Quite a bit darker than the Disneyfied version, it is also a bit disorienting in pace and plot and message…until it’s magic gathers into a whimsical aQuite a bit darker than the Disneyfied version, it is also a bit disorienting in pace and plot and message…until it’s magic gathers into a whimsical and forlorn classic of children’s literature. The gaps let the reader in and the characters don’t ask permission. It’s impossible not to gape at brooding Captain Hook, frown at Peter’s wounded selfishness or ponder what abuse is coming from Tinker Bell’s mouth. Of course there’s flying, a nanny dog, naughty mermaids, underground dwellings and a crocodile with a clock in its belly. Above all, motherly love ties the lost boys like a mystery, desperately wanted or resented. No wonder children eat it up. ...more
It's amazing how fast a book on economics can age in just 20 years. The ideas contained are more or less still very valid but the perspective of time It's amazing how fast a book on economics can age in just 20 years. The ideas contained are more or less still very valid but the perspective of time sends some of the more optimistic conclusions into a tailspin. I think it would be easy for any anti-globalist to point out where the author's predictions went wrong and ignore how much of the core is still very right.
The book starts with a very simple premise, a visit to a coffee shop and the myriad of interactions and steps that lead to ordering a capuccino. As an economist, the chain of events that lead to the coffee become a fascinating mystery. For the barista, he is another impatient client, but in reality we are in the realm of the undercover economist. Fun enough. In this first chapter we are introduced to some concepts that Harford will develop further down the line: scarcity and bargaining power, marginal assets, the influence of artificial constraints on price, immigration, etc... The conclusion of this chapter leads to the idea the economics is a lot more than simply money and finance, it is a tool to understand "power, poverty, growth, and development". Sometimes the difference between life and death for millions is an economic policy.
The next chapter deals with pricing, that most valuable piece of information in a free market. We are back to coffee and the different strategies used by chains al over the world to maximize their revenue and identify the customer that is a bit less concerned about price than the others, from "ethical" coffee to extras to product placement. Then he expands to supermarkets and the smart tricks they use. The stakes start getting higher when the subject involves questioning ideas like first class and coach. Does the company really have scarcity power? Does it need to exaggerate the differences in order to instigate customers to pay more? And the stakes rise even further when we are talking HIV drugs that are too expensive for developing countries. At this point we start to see te author likes to question "common sense" and "social justice" mantras that may not be as compassionate or effective as one thought. I like his definition of an inefficient market, "one where a change could make at least one person better off,and nobody worse off. "
The third chapter deals with the idea of prices as signals, information that reveals the true value of things, whether fair or unfair, efficient or inefficient. The idea of a fair allocation of wealth , and egalitarian view, takes a beating. If someone owns a lot of stuff, may be that's not intrinsically unfair as many seem to argue. It also explains the distorting effect of things like taxes and some regulations. I say some because even the author recognizes the need for a few well placed regulatory rules.
And rules, the rules of traffic for example, is what comes next. The different solutions devised to fix externalities, problems caused by efficient markets. Congestion and pollution among others. The author aims to explain how some people suffer the consequences of heavy traffic, pedestrians for example, or the air quality. He explains different schemes aimed at reducing the cost of these "externalities" by targeting heavy use with heavy prices. He also points out a wealthy free society would eventually finds ways to kerb these issues much better than a poor society where the incentive would be to avoid paying for any consequences to others or to the environment. Pricing should reflect damage. The usual attacks on externality charges come from two camps, the redistributive and the moral high-grounders. The author debunks the usefulness of these approaches. he goes at some length to explain why they are misguided and counterproductive. Finally, he suggests that the government could not always the best method to solve externalities and subsidies might actually be disastrous.
I will stop enumerating chapter because what comes next is probably the core of the book spread over many pages. And it deals with the idea of comparative advantage , a concept developed by David Ricardo and an idea that has propelled free trade ever since. I found these chapters particularly poignant now that President Trump of the US has launched a assault on free trade the likes of which have rarely been seen. I am not going to explain the basic premise here but it does make total sense. The main idea is that if everybody does what they are best at, even if they are good at other things as well, we all gain. It's not just a vague idea, it is easily demonstrable mathematically . Unlike other others, I didn't get a sense that there was any free market gloating. The author does not skirt the issues of sweatshops, environmental degradation and immigration. He just tries to make the case that development leads to much better outcomes than protectionism. Specially if that protectionism is interested as in the case of the stagnant and impoverished country Cameroon, where absentist president Paul Biya uses isolation to steal at ease and remain in power fro decades. That part is still a reality today twenty years later. One shudders to think about the millions of Cameroonians condemned to poverty by such policies.
The last part about China, while true in essence, has aged badly. Not because the author was wrong but because subsequent developments in China and a hardening stance towards the outside world has made this country blunder in many aspects, even when its wealth has kept apace. Then again, the beacon of free that was the US is also now teetering on the edge. It's almost quaint that the author put as an example of the deleterious use of tariffs the case of the Florida sugar industry and its damage to American sugar prices, incentives to cocaine trade, flight of candy factories and the fertilizer pollution in the Everglades. I did love the story of the city of Bruges in Belgium loosing its busy trade due to natural cause, the silting of the Zwin river, and ceding to Antwerp. That, i didn't know. ...more
What a wonderful discovery. That in the xIII century someone could write a book on contemplation that leaves modern meditation gurus in the dust. I miWhat a wonderful discovery. That in the xIII century someone could write a book on contemplation that leaves modern meditation gurus in the dust. I might not be called to be a contemplative, seeing how I am more devoted to my own intellectual meandering and reliant on reason but I really appreciated the simplicity of letting God do all the work and relinquishing added characteristics, content, thoughts. It somehow made sense despite every objection I threw at it, it’s too platonic, it perpetuates the soul/body divide that has brought about so much evil, it creates a sort of spiritual elitism� Sure, may be those criticisms are warranted but the anonymous author -wonderfully translated- seems to know in advance and softens the terrain at every turn. He ( I assume it’s a he) praises health, bodily health, and sleep. He embraces freedom and doesn’t prescribe or judge. He foresees the difficulties and turns against cleverness and self-inflicted unworthiness. Really a beautiful text. ...more
Este es sólo el primer tomo de una novela de 1,600 páginas porque recientemente hay un sarpullido editorial de escritores a los que nadie les para lo Este es sólo el primer tomo de una novela de 1,600 páginas porque recientemente hay un sarpullido editorial de escritores a los que nadie les para los pies cuando se ponen a la faena. Las primeras 250 páginas de este mamotreto son espectaculares, es cierto.
El protagonista es un escritor falangista, Fernando Navales, que recluta a artistas e intelectuales exiliados en Paris tras la derrota de la República y la ocupación nazi de Francia. Para ello cuenta con sus publicaciones en varios folletines de propaganda y la connivencia o apoyo de algunos representantes del fascismo. Su objetivo es que renieguen de sus convicciones previas y contribuyan al lucimiento del franquismo en el extranjero. En general se trata de artistas sin medios para escapar, hambrientos, desesperados o en un estadio de su carrera donde las opciones de éxito son limitadas con lo que gracias a unos tragos, putas o amenazas la conversión es relativamente fácil. (Picasso también está en el exilio pero, en contraste con el resto de la colonia, su prestigio y la protección del artista favorito del Nazismo, Arno Breker, le garantizan la protección nazi. )
Quizá la parte más interesante del libro sea el elenco - y descripción- de intelectuales y artistas olvidados por le tiempo, la mayoría probablemente con motivo. Otros no tanto. Destacan Gregorio Marañón y Picasso por supuesto. Pero hay muchos más, Oscar Domínguez, Federico Beltrán Massés, Fabián de Castro, Antoni Clavé, Honorio García Condoy, Pedro Creixams, Pepe Zamora, Pedro Flores, Emilio Grau Sala, Ana de Pombo, María Casares y más. Aunque se trate de un libro de ficción, el autor ha sabido documentarse exhaustivamente. Fernando Navales es un hombre resentido, cínico, con un gusto tradicional y algo sentimental, pero también con una cultura amplia que le permite ser un afilado observador y crítico de arte. El autor nos regala con retratos cáusticos de los infelices y de todos los demás monstruos que pueblan un París en franca podredumbre. Picasso no sale bien parado, con "ojos de garajista", calzones manchados de orines y un sádico disfrute a costa de los desvaríos de Dora Maar y sus grescas con Marie-Thérèse Walter.
En mi opinión el pasaje más intenso se centra alrededor de la sibilina negociación con Gregorio Marañón, por el que Fernando Navales siente una especial repugnancia. Al agente falangista le molesta la equidistancia, el elitismo velado del doctor. No es una persona a la que pueda convencer de los ideales de la Raza con regalos de baja estofa aunque Navales tenga la sartén por el mango. Esta "conversión" de forma pero no de fondo jugará un papel importante hacia el final de este tomo.
De Prada es un escritor elegante, con un vocabulario rico - aunque le guste encajar algunas palabras infrecuentes de rondón. Pero mientras la historia progresa, el contenido de la misma empieza a rebosar de un cierto humos escatológico- los gargajos, zurrapas y costras purulentas se multiplican como parte esencial del argumento. Sin ser esenciales, los amoríos de Navales también empiezan a ocupar mucho espacio sin llegar a revelar nada sobre el personaje más allá de su habilidad para reprimir sus emociones más humanas. El desfile de entrevistas humillantes se repite hasta que uno pierde el interés en el mecanismo. Sobran muchas páginas. El final de esta entrega repunta un poco según se van resolviendo unas tramas endebles pero al lector se le puede perdonar haber agotado la paciencia a la vez que al autor se le agotan los símiles, por buenos que sean.
La orientación política del protagonista es clara y los retratos políticos de otras figuras históricas son fascinantes: Serrano Suñer, el embajador Lequerica, Rolland de Miota, Ruano, Victoria Kent, etc.. Y en todos se afila el desprecio y el resentimiento, el tema principal del libro. Intentar que el lector empatice con un ser corrompido por el odio y calculador como es Navales es una tarea que requiere de una redención que no llega. Eso no es óbice para disfrutar de este libro, de la mirada triste hacia un París doblemente caído, por la ocupación alemana y por la presencia de muchas personas en fuga, judíos, partisanos y exiliados españoles. Para cualquier amante del arte además es una ocasión genial de explorar una parte oculta de la historia.
A book about Zen for real life in (mostly) western society. Starts by dismissing religion, philosophy and politics? as paths to understanding. Also reA book about Zen for real life in (mostly) western society. Starts by dismissing religion, philosophy and politics? as paths to understanding. Also rejects any authority on the matter and his authority to boot. It quickly dispatches most of the mainstream notions of Buddhism like reincarnation, elevated states of consciousness, moral purity or enlightenment. None of that is relevant. Neither are temples, robes, most books on Zen with pleasing covers� We need to focus and appreciate the present reality , that’s all there is and it’s enough. Our lives will change and we’ll be powerful ( even though it’s not clear how our lives will change or what “powerful � means .) i None of those things are relevant. The author was a kid from Ohio with a love for Punk music and Japanese monsters. At least that’s interesting. It emphasizes the practice of zazen and promises that with frequent practice we can finally let go of the self, understand reality and , well, I’m not clear on what the goal is since there are none.
My only concerns are that the author seems to have a very limited understanding of religions in general . He says Buddhism requires the organization to transmit the wisdom but the organization is a cow turd. Well, something similar happens with most religions. In fact, most of the characteristics he adscribes to other religions are also recognized as dead weight . For example most serious Christians don’t see soul and body as separate, granted it’s select minority. Or place too much stake on moral rules per se.
But mostly I do not understand what loosing the “self� means or what loosing it achieves. Is the final goal to end suffering? That’s neat , not suffering, but then what ? What does it mean to really see reality and how does it connect to feeling powerful? Is it like saying “I have cancer but since I have no self and it is what is, I can panic, cry or ignore it and that’s all fine ? What else can one do anyway? � I imagine for people desperate for inner peace , accepting a shit situation or a horrible disease or death might be a step towards not going mental but other than that, I see no point....more
I admire the attempt and, frankly, trying to synthesize Wittgenstein or Derrida in a five page graphic story deserves a medal of some sort. Alas, the I admire the attempt and, frankly, trying to synthesize Wittgenstein or Derrida in a five page graphic story deserves a medal of some sort. Alas, the drawings are pretty terrible and the text cannot accomplish to be elucidating, funny and breezy all at once. That said, it was interesting to see how Fred Van Lente approached this almost impossible task. I wish I could add two stars for effort and high goals. As someone that absolutely abhors super-hero comics -I find them insanely boring- and prefers more real life graphic novels, this books swing so far in the other direction that much needs to be worked out....more
In the simplest possible terms its the story of two adulteres, one with a somewhat dim husband, the unreliable narrator, and another with a steely, loIn the simplest possible terms its the story of two adulteres, one with a somewhat dim husband, the unreliable narrator, and another with a steely, loving wife. At a deeper level it’s also the revelation that society and the structures that were meant to hold it are crumbling already a decade or so before the IWW.
The narrative is conversational and doesn’t follow a chronological order, Layer by layer new facts and suppositions surface as the narrator, sometimes unsure, sometimes contradictory, plods ahead explaining how he was betrayed by his wife Florence and his friend Edward Ashburn, the “good soldier� of the title. Most of the long winding tale is spent pondering about the nature of the characters involved and the eight year affair the cheated husband failed to notice. Psychologically, I think the characters reactions are unrealistic to a high degree and too convenient for the author when he needs them to perform. I don’t think this novel’s plot would have been a good theatre play.
That doesn’t mean there are no good parts but the insistence on how the adulterous couple could have passed for normal or how passions excuse selfish behaviour wear thin after a while. May be Ford Madox Ford thought this was the best English novel of the twentieth century but clearly there was a lot of century ahead of him.
This is one of H. G. Wells' social novels, one where he already manifests his interest in social issues of his time and mines his own biography for maThis is one of H. G. Wells' social novels, one where he already manifests his interest in social issues of his time and mines his own biography for material. It is also a comic novel, amusing and spirited, even when it touches on some heavy subjects like dull marriage and suicide.
Mr. Polly is a man of 35 1/2 years old and we meet him contemplating the pointlessness of his life while he sits inside his shop in Fishbourne, slowly becoming bankrupt and suicidal. We then are treated to an Edwardian childhood that highlights the problems in England during this period when Germany and the US were slowly rising to overtake the world through education and industry.
He went for some time to a National School, which was run on severely economical lines to keep down the rates by a largely untrained staff, he was set sums to do that he did not understand, and that no one made him understand, he was made to read the catechism and Bible with the utmost industry and an entire disregard of punctuation or significance, and caused to imitate writing copies and drawing copies, and given object lessons upon sealing wax and silk-worms and potato bugs and ginger and iron and such like things, and taught various other subjects his mind refused to entertain, and afterwards, when he was about twelve, he was jerked by his parent to “finish off� in a private school of dingy aspect and still dingier pretensions, where there were no object lessons, and the studies of book-keeping and French were pursued (but never effectually overtaken) under the guidance of an elderly gentleman who wore a nondescript gown and took snuff, wrote copperplate, explained nothing, and used a cane with remarkable dexterity and gusto.
Mr. Polly fails his education and is not very ambitious but he is possesed by the love of words and books. While working at some dead-end jobs, he meets a squad of friends and combines scapes to the lovely English countryside -much vindicated by other authors at this time as a source of strength and beauty after a generation of authors that preferred more urbane settings- with literary readings of Shakespeare and Rabelais.
The book has some funny set pieces. One of them Mr. Pollys' father funeral. It is after his father's death that Mr. polly inherits some money and decides to start searching for his new station in life. He meets some cousins of his and starts visiting them after he learns to ride his bike. In one of his forays, he falls madly in love with a schoolgirl that completely corresponds to his with and chivalric nature but who ends up being immature and mocking him. In a way, as a rebound, he settles for a marriage with his cousin Miriam. He regrets the decision the minute he makes it. In another humorous set-piece , the wedding takes place. There is some description of the kids holding the rice bags with murder in their eyes that made me laugh. Mr. Polly buys a shop and sets on his new miserable life as a shopkeeper.
A great proportion of small shopkeepers, for example, are people who have, through the inefficiency that comes from inadequate training and sheer aimlessness, or improvements in machinery or the drift of trade, been thrown out of employment, and who set up in needless shops as a method of eking out the savings upon which they count. They contrive to make sixty or seventy per cent, of their expenditure, the rest is drawn from the shrinking capital. Essentially their lives are failures, not the sharp and tragic failure of the labourer who gets out of work and starves, but a slow, chronic process of consecutive small losses which may end if the individual is exceptionally fortunate in an impoverished death bed before actual bankruptcy or destitution supervenes. Their chances of ascendant means are less in their shops than in any lottery that was ever planned. The secular development of transit and communications has made the organisation of distributing businesses upon large and economical lines, inevitable; except in the chaotic confusions of newly opened countries, the day when a man might earn an independent living by unskilled or practically unskilled retailing has gone for ever. Yet every year sees the melancholy procession towards petty bankruptcy and imprisonment for debt go on, and there is no statesmanship in us to avert it. Every issue of every trade journal has its four or five columns of abridged bankruptcy proceedings, nearly every item in which means the final collapse of another struggling family upon the resources of the community, and continually a fresh supply of superfluous artisans and shop assistants, coming out of employment with savings or ‘help� from relations, of widows with a husband’s insurance money, of the ill-trained sons of parsimonious fathers, replaces the fallen in the ill-equipped, jerry-built shops that everywhere abound�.�
So he concocts and elaborate plan to commit suicide and ends up burning a lot of the shops in Fishbourne including his. However, his plan ends up making him look like a hero. On top of that he gets some insurance money. He gives some to his wife but bolts out of town and starts to wander about the countryside until he stumbles upon a beautiful inn ran by a 'plump" woman, Flo. She offers him a job as a punter and handyman which he accepts immediately. But clouds gather on teh horizon when a sinister figure appears, a drunk and violent man called Uncle Jim. No spoilers, the rest I will leave for the reader to find out.
What I most liked about the novel was its psychological accuracy, the way wells is able to portray a state of mind of the character and express it in pregnant dialogue and great turns of phrase. His description of the sense of futility in Mr. Pollys life is dead on. His phrasing is not easy but it is well crafted, convincing. He plays often with Mr. Polly lack of education and badly digested literary readings . He often mispronounces and invents words to comic effect. ...more
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.� � Howard Thu“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.� � Howard Thurman
The best part of the book are the short introductions to every chapter. The body of the books is a relevant list of mystics but not in chronological order. Instead, the book is divided in sections according to the predominant type of mysticism that the author adscribes to each mystic : Lovers, poets, saints, heretics ... Obviously there is a lot of overlap. He does give a brief introduction to each mystic and refers to further reading. In that sense, this book is a good starter to find your way around the corpus of christian mystic literature and look further on your own.
I found the brief bios a bit repetitive and with little meat. Very few made me jump and say "Oh, I need to check this out" or "This guy/gal seems like something I could relate to". Of course the author cannot go in depth on each mystic but I'd have appreciated more salient biographical notes or anecdotes. It is interesting that mystics, for example, emphasize that God is love or that silence is a requirement to contemplation . But once you've stablished that, I don't think it is necessary to add these ideas on every chapter unless they are the most defining characteristic of a particular mystic. I have read, St John the Evangelist, St Paul, St Augustine , St John of the Cross (awesome) , St Teresa of Avila, St Therese of Lisieux and C.S. Lewis (all mentioned in the book) and I find , for example, that Teresa of Avila is a much more grounded individual than Lisieux who sounds downright psychopathic and arrested in her mental development, frankly.
I hardly think that the author could express a dislike like I do here. But to expand on the two saints : St Teresa wrote her experiences because she was ordered to do so, she much preferred focusing on rolling up her sleeves, skirting the Inquisition and do her daily work and fulfill her mission, visions be damned one could say -of course not but you know what I mean. Therese of Lisieux's childlike approach could be seen as a virtue by some, not me. The difference between them is stark but you wouldn't know it from the biographical note in this book. Yes, he gets to the gist of it but not distinctly enough. And I'm afraid that spreads throughout a large number of the bios, no differentiation in a book that claims that they were all very different.
That said, I was intrigued by a few of his listings. Kenneth Leach for example. Or Bernard Lonergan. Or Donahue's "Ana Caram". Or Howard Thurman -definitely I need to read this man. But also ancient texts like Pseudo-Dyonisios or The Cloud of Unknowing. These are all going on my reading pile.
I did learn some things.
1) Mystics are not all saints and all saints are not mystics. Mysticism is about connectedness with God's love, sainthood is about virtue. Obviously there's a strong overlap but not necessarily in all aspects. Some mystics had misoginy, slaves, alcoholism, promoted causes we would see today as ill-informed and were very much victims of their own time prejudices. Saints tried for an ever more perfect obedience to God's laws.
2) Women and men mystic parity seems unquestionable. It is fascinating to observe the number of women that even in the Middle Ages were able to be regarded as "worthy" of God's attention by the Church itself or by society at large.
3) Being a mystic does take many shapes, not just visions and stigmata. In fact, those miraculous phenomena are the least important aspects of mysticism and generally suspect even by the mystics themselves. In most cases, visions were regarded as a temptation by the devil if they were not properly vouchsafed. A mystic can express her/his calling and communion with the divine in an infinite amount of forms, poetry, abandonment of material desires, joy, daily everyday routine, working with the poor and destitute (especially working for the poor and destitute) etc.. Visions and miracles are NOT the hallmark of a mystic.
4) Some schools of thought imply we can all be mystics in the sense that we have the potential to channel the divine.
5) Even though the book focuses on Christian mysticism, some mystics aim at a certain universalism. Some of them feel that other traditions are part of the same impulse, even with methods and discipline that could be used with great profit. Many mystics embraced Eastern traditions completely. Others joined movements for social justice and advocated leaving the ivory towers of academia. Total detachment is not the goal of Christian mystics, many of them return to the material everyday world after deprivation and ecstasy but with a completely changed perspective. Christianity offers the love of God as reward....more
Again, what is the point of wasting time reading a 460 page book -about 200 of them just filler- just to find out there’s no real ending, no conclusioAgain, what is the point of wasting time reading a 460 page book -about 200 of them just filler- just to find out there’s no real ending, no conclusion, just one ghostly event after another, some of them narrated as hearsay, in a haunted decaying mansion inhabited by a decaying family. It’s missing a note at the beginning: so sorry the writer really doesn’t really know how to end this mystery in a clever or interesting way, may be save yourself for a proper novel. If you want to read this while in a derelict dark house to spook yourself into a frenzy of apprehension, go ahead and read it or just use any old ghost story you have handy because this one lacks any special merits beyond, here’s a ghost , it does mischief, it even bites!
The Ayres family lives in a crumbling pile called Hundreds along with a young maid. There’s an old matriarch pinning for the bygone gentler days, a young war hero with scars and a no-nonsense daughter The family is driven slowly mad by a catalogue of incidents , some pretty upsetting . A doctor becomes a regular visitor and falls for the daughter, both are older adults and seem frustratingly unable to say what they mean at every turn. Their love affair is protracted and clumsy. That’s it. The dialogue flows well enough and the descriptions are mostly weather related or post-war England cliches. If this sounds interesting, the characters take pains to make it dull with their tea drinking ,bed-ridden demeanour and disinterest in leaving the house. You kind of want the ghost to eat them all and have a developer build a council flat....more
La mejor manera de descubrir el genio de este libro es leer las críticas que le dan una estrella (o menos si pudieran,dicen algunos). Parece ser que esLa mejor manera de descubrir el genio de este libro es leer las críticas que le dan una estrella (o menos si pudieran,dicen algunos). Parece ser que es lectura obligada en algunos institutos. Grave error de los institutos que a todos los alumnos les obligan a leer libros cuando claramente habrá estudiantes que prefieran plantar huertos o arreglar tostadoras. Luego pasa lo que pasa. Este es un libro para lectores con algo de pasión por la literatura, no demasiada tampoco, es muy asequible. Pero si te obligan a leerlo y eres incapaz de entender el contexto porque lo ves todo a través del filtro de la justicia social, racial o de género -porque es lo fácil, o si necesitas un sobresalto cada dos minutos para mantener la atención o quieres personajes lúcidos, brillantes, pues no , no es para tí Kimberly.
El lenguaje de Baroja es directo, sin muchas frases subordinadas y sin ampulosidades. Es un purgante contra tanta farfolla literaria que se encuentra uno hoy y en la época de Baroja - no miro a nadie :Dolores Redondo, Zafón, etc..
No es un libro de aventuras ni de romance. El argumento de la historia , si se le puede llamar así, es casi inexistente, como la vida misma. Un personaje descontento divagando por una España chusca y atrancada. La vida de un “precursor �, alguien que prefiere , o no puede hacer otra cosa que examinar el mundo a través de la ciencia y la filosofía. Es un camino de superación y sufrimiento, opuesto al de la mayoría que se deja llevar por el vigoroso “árbol de la vida� . Pero con poca materia, vidas entrecruzadas , alguna tragedia y las varias divagaciones filosóficas de un aprendiz de medicina, Baroja hila un relato directo, cortante.
No es un libro políticamente correcto. Refleja teorías y tendencias de su tiempo. Reflejo de la exploración, del proceso del protagonista. El que Baroja fuera antisemita , misógino o creyera en el cariz superior de ciertos pueblos se lo toma el mismo Baroja con cierta sorna. Y eso si creemos que el autor se identifica con sus personajes. Descartar un libro como este por incluir esos temas es completamente miope. La mayor lacra que ve el escritor va mucho más allá de los temas que nos parecen ofensivos hoy en día. Hay una amargura ante el patriotismo gregario y la falta de solidaridad egoísta. La generación del 98 tenía ante sí un país desecado y miserable. La misma naturaleza humana, fuente de toda desdicha está sometida a examen. El protagonista del libro se asemeja entonces es un hombre inquieto tratando de navegar ese mundo, no un activista o un iluminado que comulga con las supuestas bondades de la ética de instituto. ...more
Una novela histórico-ficticia ambientada en el mundillo literario y canalla ya en la antesala de la Guerra Civil Española. Los cafés, teatros, tertuliUna novela histórico-ficticia ambientada en el mundillo literario y canalla ya en la antesala de la Guerra Civil Española. Los cafés, teatros, tertulias y calles de Madrid a principios del siglo XX son el escenario principal y casi permanente. Poblados por una multitud de escritores, putas y artistas, la mayoría viviendo en penuria. Aparecen muchos nombres famosos como Pío Baroja o Ramón Gómez de la Serna pero el elenco incluye a muchísimos otros, demasiados, menos conocidos pero también parte del efervescente y famélico.
El argumento es simple y consiste en el enfrentamiento de dos aspirantes a escritor arrastrados por la política hacia una enemistad que acaba siendo militante y física. Fernando Navales es un personaje ficticio, oportunista y cínico, sin una ideología propia o adquirida más allá del medro y la vaga noción de ser un escritor sin obra. Apreciador del verdadero talento y despectivo con cualquier devoción estética o política, acaba casi por casualidad asociado con José Antonio Primo de Rivera y la Falange. Su antagonista es Pedro Luis Gálvez, basado en un escritor real pero muy guarnecido de detalles añadidos en esta obra. Al contrario que Navales, Gálvez se presenta como leal, consistente en sus creencias izquierdistas y con verdadero talento poético, si bien la desesperación le obliga a buscarse la vida sin miramientos. Hay varios personajes femeninos y centrales pero el autor se suele ceñir a sus descripciones físicas y potencial erótico sin mucho más ahondamiento. En muchos casos , el barroquismo de muchas descripciones no camufla la superficialidad, lo que acentúa la falta de empatía y la sensación de que los nombres son un mero decorado donde colgar caricaturas agudas pero redundantes.
El estilo redime a esta novela de ser un mero ejercicio erudito o una sarta de escenas repulsivas porque el autor domina el ritmo y el lenguaje con maestría. Aún así, lo poco gusta, pero lo mucho y repetido aburre. Y es que Prada no escatima embadurnar cada página de gargajos, meadas, puses y demás fluidos corporales que a menudo saturan la trama con entusiasmo de coprófilo. Sobran muchas páginas en este libro, que no es corto, porque no avanzan la trama ni añaden mucho a los temas de fondo, la gloria literaria, la supervivencia como escritor o artista, la atmósfera pre-bélica que acaba consumiendo el país, la crueldad como norma, la ideología como producto de la circunstancia, etc..
Este libro es una mezcla de varios géneros, novela gótica, policiaca, de misterio y hasta de costumbres si estrechamos definiciones. Sea lo que sea, nEste libro es una mezcla de varios géneros, novela gótica, policiaca, de misterio y hasta de costumbres si estrechamos definiciones. Sea lo que sea, necesita un editor desesperadamente. Es largo, barroco y no escatima relleno.
La historia es una rocambolesca trama que comienza con la muerte por accidente en Galicia de Álvaro, el marido de un famoso escritor. Cuando el escritor, Manuel, empieza a descubrir que el accidente encubre una muerte mucho más macabra y a su vez revela la doble vida de su marido, entramos en el meollo, el claustrofóbico mundo del pazo de As Grileiras y sus residentes, la familia Muñiz de Dávila. A las pesquisas del escritor se unen dos personajes: un ex-guardia civil, Nogueira, tradicional y conocedor de la zona, y un cura, Lucas, amigo de la infancia de Álvaro. El resto del elenco son una serie de personaje-fetiche, la malvada condesa, los hermanos comidos por todo tipo de conflictos, los campesinos bondadosos y humildes.
El libro es difícil de leer por la sencilla razón de que la autora ha querido meter aquí todo tipo de clichés de género, antiguos y nuevos. Los antiguos predominan pero son muy forzados, la casa señorial, el pacto de silencio u omertá que ciñe a todos los habitantes, viejos crímenes enterrados, las supersticiones religiosas. Frente a estos, los nuevos, las drogas, algo de ciencia forense, el conflicto entre el urbanita y el mundo rural. Que la autora haga uso de estrategias típicas de la novela policiaca no es un defecto en sí, hay un protagonista con ocio suficiente para perseguir la verdad, un ayudante que choca con el protagonista, sórdidos incidentes tapados bajo la vergüenza de tradiciones y lealtades locales que hoy poca gente reconoce, etc.. pero la menestra de incidentes se apilan como en un accidente múltiple y, por si faltara algo -no revelo nada especial- hay hasta un elemento mágico que sería poético de no ser tan sentimental.
Pero los problemas son más de forma que de fondo. Sobran unas doscientas páginas de descripciones repetitivas y largas que ni añaden nada ni son particularmente literarias. Todos los panes son “oscuros y fragantes� por ejemplo, todas las nubes tienen color de cloro (verde?) . Algunas parecen servir de relleno, casi para demostrar que la autora ha hecho algo de investigación, ya sea sobre viñedos de la ribera del Miño o el “feismo� gallego, sea eso lo que sea. Otras se pierden en explicaciones sobre lo que cada personaje siente en cada momento, psicológicamente el tono de los personajes suena falso en numerosas ocasiones, melodramático, irreal.
Y es que la autora parece confundir un personaje interesante con alguien cuyas reacciones son teatrales y exageradas. Especialmente en el caso de Manuel el escritor, sus pataletas y llantos resultan un lastre. Pero no es el único. Las carantoñas de Herminia, la criada, los jamacucos del cura Lucas y sus conflictos espirituales o los arrebatos machistas de Nogueira resultan cansinos. Por lo menos en el caso de Nogueira hay una especie de evolución previsible, muy de hoy (ala Netflix) la del homófobo que acaba abrigando un cierto respeto por un matrimonio homosexual.
Todo libro de misterio pivota sobre le final. Y este libro decepciona algo, no del todo, pero no hay grandes sorpresas. La solución del enigma en sí no se descubre gracias al ingenio de los investigadores o a unas pistas advertidas y recompuestas sino que se va revelando en capas como una cebolla , simplemente haciendo más preguntas y más visitas, por acrecimiento más que deducción . Prácticamente hasta que no queda más que una posibilidad que ya se vislumbra cuando quedan aún cien páginas.
En definitiva, buen libro para una serie de televisión -claramente está concebido para venderse como tal- o un cómic si se hacen severos cortes y se simplifica hasta obtener una obra de un tamaño mediano. Las 600 páginas hay que ganárselas. Parece que abusar del lector con paja es muy común en obras españolas recientes.
I avoid politician's memoirs. They tend to be stuffed with self-justifications and trite principles. Also, I have no clue how the British Parliament wI avoid politician's memoirs. They tend to be stuffed with self-justifications and trite principles. Also, I have no clue how the British Parliament works, what the hell is a "whip" is , a "backbencher"? All those arcane procedures or the cast of characters mentioned in this book evade me . (Thank you Rory Stewart for the very helpful Dramatis Personae in the appendix, lifesaver). I often listen to the podcast : "The Rest is Politics" in which Rory and Alistair Campbell act as hosts. So when I saw this book at the public library I started leafing it...and got hooked.
Rory Stewart is a good writer. This is an important point because, while the content is fascinating, it is the writing that holds it in motion. He delivers his prose fluidly, punctuates it with wit and adds just the right amount of detail. He is really good at summing up a whole character in just a few descriptive lines. In fact, the best morsels were the scathing depictions of some of the politicians and people he didn't like. He is quite generous in his praise too but it's the slime that shines. He also follows a strict chronological order with stages corresponding to all his different roles, leading towards a grand finale. This book covers his time as an MP, not a lot in his previous assignments in the Middle East and Afghanistan except to provide context and contrast.
Rory Stewart is a British politician that got elected as MP for the constituency of Cumbria. Before entering politics, he had an elite education (Eton, Oxford, Baillol), became a diplomat, worked in Iraq as a province governor and then spent a few years in Afghanistan doing a lot of work for the Turquoise Mountain Foundation. He got to know Afghanistan really well and, after experiencing the wasteful and ineffective policies of Britain and the US in both countries -often papered up with empty lingo and "burocratese" he decided to enter politics in the hopes of making a difference. May be, foolishly? he thought being at the center of power would allow him to steer the policies to more sensible action. This is the gist of the book: the being assigned to a certain government agency (Prisons, environment, Africa, Foreign development) for no reason other than it's convenient for the incumbent PM, the inordinate amount of work it takes to become informed about policies and budgets, the resistance from the civil service that sees you as yet another temporary hindrance, the undermining , the obtuse lingo, the frustration with trying to enact any changes and finally having to compromise or go around normal avenues- as in using the press to stir stuff up , to get something, anything, done. And all of this to then have Boris Johnson sway the nation with theatrical lies, clowning and crying Britain.
The book gets more infuriating as it progresses. Stewart is not afraid to acknowledge his naiveté in every respect with fellow MP's, the press, the civil servants. He is very frank - It is worthy of admiration that he doesn't hold back when describing some episodes involving people that other more pusillanimous politicians would have sidestepped - just in case. These are the Tory debacle years of Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak . From the beginning it is very clear that despite having become an MP, Rory yields very little power. When he finally gets some responsibilities as minister of Environment (the assignments are always marred by randomness, not the very best man or woman is ever given the job they would excel at.) al he manages is to get vilified for a a quite competent flood response and implement a surcharge on plastic bags. Even when these are small things, one gets the sense that they have a widespread reach but one cannot except gratefulness. Quite the contrary. Any comment thrown at an otherwise bored journalist can become a lashing - as in when Rory repeats a phrase regarding farmers in "tying their pants with twine" and gets caricatured as a toff unaware of people's problems and real life conditions. To one of the very few MP's that has actually made it a point to visit every town in his constituency!
Of special interest I must mention his imposed assignment on Africa, where he discovers both a retreating influence of Britain at the expense of China and the usual ineffective use of foreign money and aid (as in the Ebola crisis) . Also his job as Prisons minister where he tries to shore the tide of increased drug use and criminality inside the British prison system. the budget for prisons are slashed again and again by random quotas while foreign aid balloons for no apparent reason The biggest danger here is being seen as "soft on crime', that makes any reforms almost incompatible with public opinion.
The events reach fever pitch during the Brexit negotiations. In this section, an when Stewart runs against other candidates (Jeremy Hunt, Sajiv Javid , Johnson..) for the main job, the hollowed nature of politicking becomes infuriating. Stewart is forced to beg and persuade with arguments but he keeps stumbling against what else, loyalties in exchange of future jobs and posturing. Out of the window go the practicalities of Theresa May's deal which nobody reads and in comes the bluster about getting a "better deal" or else , and the backstop with Ireland will sort itself out just because. It is not unique to Britain to have the kind of democracies that are more based on performance than facts, far from it, most are! (look at Spain, the US, etc.. ) but in the book one gets a sense of disappointment at the emptiness of the institutions, the positions and the success of the lies. And this is why I found the book so intriguing, because it sounds true, it doesn't embellish or tries to hammer a point. we all know how the story ends with Stewart being dismissed from the Conservative party. Precisely for not being the "type" of Conservative that would lean on the strident right wing, the absent liberalism of Truss, the appeal to populism of Johnson, the victorian empire dreams of Reese-Moggs, etc.. to make his mark. he comes across as a man focused on details, they matter, and policy, and facts. He is a conservative of small communities working and progress while respecting ancient institutions that have served the UK well. I think this is what One Nation politicians would be describe as, not sure....more
Good comic book that makes a compelling case for deregulation of building and the economic benefits of just such a change in policy, definitely a slapGood comic book that makes a compelling case for deregulation of building and the economic benefits of just such a change in policy, definitely a slap in the face to NIMBY attitudes.
Still, Caplan has the bad habit of dismissing criticism as hyperbole or exaggeration even when it is neither. It is a clear cut case that more housing supply would bring down prices but what about increasing the supply of desirable places at the same time. A high density city center full of super-tall skyscrapers might be financially sensible but it can also cease to be desirable quite quickly. While it is hard to put an economic value to older buildings and tree lined streets, some cities practically depend on it for their survival, like cities popular with tourists. The Empire State Building notwithstanding, the old Waldorf hotel would have been a nice thing to keep. Not to mention the unmeasured benefits of closeness to nature and solitude. So why emphasize only construction supply and not the increase of supply in desirability.?
The comparison the author makes with the scarcity of the front court seats in basketball in comparison to the abundance of land is also misguided. Some locations are also scarce when it comes to land like coastline buildable areas. It is interesting that Caplan points out that he lives in a single family detached home. He also has a university education. But he dismisses both things as unnecessary for everyone else. I tend not to trust people that have a very clear idea of how people should live.
Of course homeowner associations can go a great way to enact and demand livability and
Claramente un libro para audiencias amantes de detalles históricos minuciosos, prolijas descripciones de batallas, eventos ocupados por grandes figuraClaramente un libro para audiencias amantes de detalles históricos minuciosos, prolijas descripciones de batallas, eventos ocupados por grandes figuras de tronío, barriendo décadas y continentes. Es un libro largo de casi 700 páginas y no es sino una primera entrega de la vida de Publio Cornelio Escipión, “el Africano�, personaje histórico, conquistador de Cartago y de gran relevancia para la Roma del siglo II BC. No es literatura. además de largo, tiene un lenguaje limitado a los géneros que llamaríamos de literatura juvenil pero sin agilidad. Los personajes caen en unos pocos arquetipos repetitivos: el general curtido y de sólida moral, el soldado fuerte, leal y obediente, el cónsul corrupto, venial y celoso, etc� Las descripciones suelen incorporar algún que otro espécimen de investigación, ya sea una palabra latina, un rito religioso, una costumbre rescatada o cualquier otro detalle incrustado tratando de disolverse en el argumento. Uno casi atisba el cuaderno de notas del autor. ( La bibliografía está listada al final y es extensa). Pero eso no basta para mantener el interés o justificar la fórmula. La historia en sí, donde el autor daría rienda suelta a su imaginación, es insulsa, acartonada. No sé cuantas veces hay que describir el mismo jardín, el vino, usar los mismos adjetivos ,lanzar los mismos guiños al lector español, antes de que ese lector empiece a darse cuenta de que se puede saltar párrafos enteros sin merma.
En fin. Tardé varios meses en acabar este ladrillo entre arranques y abandonos . La parte final me recompensó con una cierta tensión cuando Publio Cornelio decide atacar Qart Hadasht defendida por Magón y los púnicos. También hay un hilo narrativo que tiene al autor Plauto como protagonista. Y no puede faltar el archi-villano encarnado por Fabio Máximo, conspirador, cruel y celoso hipócrita. A pesar de todo, , no me animo a continuar con ninguna sequela futura de esta epopeya. Exige demasiado tiempo sin otro placer que la ocasional curiosidad de algún acontecimiento desconocido . En mi opinión, la novela histórica es muy difícil, pero su mérito es mayor cuanto más triunfa en transportar al lector/a más allá de las emboscadas y los burdeles y la Lupercalia y los baños del caldarium para meterlo/a en la experiencia de un mundo desaparecido pero reconocible. Y para eso hace falta más color. Me temo que este libro falla el sondeo y se queda a ras de tierra, obligado a no dejar un solo episodio sin narrar, atado a rellenar todas las casillas. ...more
A history of some of the artists that made New York their home and subject at the beginning of the twentieth century, mostly those of the so-called AsA history of some of the artists that made New York their home and subject at the beginning of the twentieth century, mostly those of the so-called Ashcan school . Henri, Sloan, Glackens, Shinn, Davies, Lowry, Pendergast ,etc. They mastered to create art out of the alleyways, tenements and rooftops of crowded cities and the occasional landscape or portrait. Most of them started their careers as illustrators for the press. The book traces their careers and friendships from the time when they started meeting with the resistance of the academic cliques to the time when they themselves were surpassed by more radical artists from Europe. ...more
The answer, according to a logical reading of this book, is NO. To be fair the author never categorically affirms the existence of God , he just propoThe answer, according to a logical reading of this book, is NO. To be fair the author never categorically affirms the existence of God , he just propounds that God is more likely to exist than not. The arguments he gives are extremely weak and he seems to think throughout that the burden of proof is on those who do not believe in God. If someone claims to have seen a six-legged unicorn, it is up to the claimant to provide proof, not the person that hears the story. I don’t need to prove to you that such creatures don’t exist, I have no stake in whether it’s real or not, you do.
So Mr Swinburne sets up to attempt the impossible, to convince us that there is enough evidence to accept there is such a thing as God.
Most of his arguments have a similar structure: 1) Something becomes too complex for the current state of science to explain properly: the origin of the universe, life, consciousness, the existence of evil, etc.. 2) Someone, out of thin air, God, made it so. What could be simpler.
Except there is nothing simple about coming up with a fictional being, one which is omnipotent , omniscient and infinitely free, to fix our ignorance or provide meaning to our existence. Nothing simple about that besides the fact that it feels "comfortable" to feel like someone might be there giving a hoot about us. Things get really twisted when on top of it we add that this being is loving and has a purpose for what he does.
Except this is the whole history of God(s) in a nutshell. Primitive men found great comfort in explaining away lightning, volcanos and stars as the handiwork of deities. "Someone" just like them but infinitely more powerful must be in charge. Us, humans create deities that are surprisingly similar to us and have a more perfect sense of justice, love and power. Then we have to come back to earth and explain why, if there is such a God, we see all the famines ,evil and disease. The author goes on about how without these pain, we wouldn't appreciate our lucky-to-be-alive joy. We are learning a lesson here...except the kid that inherits the money and buys the house already knows as much about the value of money as the the kid that has to go out and quit school because he needs to get a job. Yes, for every kid that looses himself because of wealth , there are ten who thrive.
So much fro the ultimate "explanation" .
Darwin and evolution make an appearance. the author, to his credit, does not reject science at all. He just claims that randomness doesn't explain how the complexity we inhabit, our bodies, came to be. Fair enough. Science has made some great strides in this but I don't think we humans appreciate taht this randomness is not just a night at the casino but billions of years, billions, in the making . He almost got me with the idea of vocations, how come some humans have vocations...
But then he decided that there is not only a God but also a soul separate from the body, that this soul is attached to the body at some moment decided by God and that some animals might have also rough versions of a soul. This sounds to me incredibly naive, and dangerous. I know it is a popular idea but it has made tremendous damage to the human race. It basically justified the slaughter of millions to "save their souls", it made our life on Earth a secondary concern for kings, priests and pious people of all kinds. It still does. The separation of soul and body (and the purported residence of the soul in the brain like the author claims) is a theory that runs contrary to any real wisdom. If there is a soul, it is not a separate anything. If you can't explain how when we die the soul survives then you can just refer to God's omnipotence (even though te author claims even God is subject to the laws of logic).
That the religious experience is pervasive and millions of trustworthy people accept it as real is not a real argument either. The more I talk to believers, the more I realize that either they rarely question their beliefs, they are ingrained in them , or that they simply go along with the cultural norm and willfully ignore those very deeply held beliefs when it is convenient.
I was looking at the rave reviews this book has gotten. I think it is a good book to sit and reflect on the nature of religious belief. The final chapter on the supremacy of Christianity makes sense once you have leapt over all the logic holes. Yes, who can beat Resurrection ? Not Mohamed or Vishnu. But then again, did it happen? We have no serious evidence and centuries of searching has produced none. Doubt is a state opposite to faith. It's an uncomfortable state but a step ahead of atheism. If God is really who the author claims to be, he would have provided a failsafe, a breach of the free will, a sign... a reason to believe in God. And frankly, it seems like a solitary game to me....more
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