A great storyteller as well as a great psychotherapist. Fascinating, enriching book.
Looking at some of the more negative reviews here, I understand thA great storyteller as well as a great psychotherapist. Fascinating, enriching book.
Looking at some of the more negative reviews here, I understand the criticisms readers level at Yalom, but I think they are, perhaps, missing something. He has some pretty petty things to say about his clients. Sometimes the way he views them comes off as harsh, cruel, objectifying, or dismissive. But that is precisely why he shares these descriptions.
Those moments of pettiness tell us not about his clients but about Yalom himself. He, like us, and like his clients, is capable of being shallow, venal and judgemental. But always, something in the relationships he builds with his clients helps him break away from that side of his nature and reach a richer and more intimate beyond.
I question whether sometimes he goes a bit too far with his pettier descriptions. Is he too callous? Too honest? Too brutal? Should he be more diplomatic? But as a trainee counsellor myself, I can see that it is part of his process. He's being utterly honest, disclosing even the uglier parts of his character, because that's exactly what he's asking his clients to do for him. In doing so, he makes it clear that he, his clients, and ourselves, are all more than the weakest elements of our nature. It is in the communion we make with one another that we find this....more
Informative, digestible, at times beautiful. I struggled with it a bit because so many of the signs described are so visual. I can't help but wonder iInformative, digestible, at times beautiful. I struggled with it a bit because so many of the signs described are so visual. I can't help but wonder if a photobook wouldn't have been a better way to achieve the same, although I assume cost would make that prohibitive....more
Read this out of curiosity and did not finish. It's interesting getting an insight into the lives of people living long ago, but collections of privatRead this out of curiosity and did not finish. It's interesting getting an insight into the lives of people living long ago, but collections of private correspondence like this can be a bit dull because 99% of what people discuss in them is business. Where you can read between the lines to learn more about ancient life, it's fascinating. But it can take a bit of trawling....more
London is an unusual one, bridging the gap between the accessibility and simplicity of popular fiction and the richness of literary. These stories areLondon is an unusual one, bridging the gap between the accessibility and simplicity of popular fiction and the richness of literary. These stories are solid....more
Reading the private correspondence of the earliest people in history to have any is inherently interesting. The more we can learn about these people, Reading the private correspondence of the earliest people in history to have any is inherently interesting. The more we can learn about these people, the closer we can come to an understanding of what makes us all human. This is a bit of a strange book to read for fun, perhaps. But I am a bit strange....more
This was an odd choice for me, because I don't love comedic books. I genuinely enjoy humour in books that are ostensibly on 'serious' topics, but I teThis was an odd choice for me, because I don't love comedic books. I genuinely enjoy humour in books that are ostensibly on 'serious' topics, but I tend to balk at books which are consciously aimed at being funny. Having said this, I rather like David Mitchell. If I was going to break with tradition for anyone, it would be him.
Even so, I blitzed through this rather quickly, and at times, a little impatiently. Especially in the first half of the book, I felt like more work was put into some of the jokes than they really warranted, and at times the 'funny bits' felt like a bit of a distraction from the history. Which was a shame, because it turns out DM is actually a bloody good history writer.
I've never quite managed to get all the kings and queens straight in my head (especially the Plantagenets), but this account more than any other did a great job of turning the monarchy into a story, and thus anchoring its various leading characters in my head. I didn't always agree with DM's takes on individuals, or on history as a discipline (I'm more happy with questioning overarching historical narrative as a matter of course than he is), but I always enjoyed getting his take on things, and I found the history he presented a hell of a lot more comprehensible and identifiable than I often do.
But what about the project itself? Why write about kings and queens, when, as DM so correctly identifies, they were all a bunch of dicks anyway? I often lament the way historians focus so much on the dregs of human society (the ruling classes) at the expense of the far more interesting scope of the common human experience. But on this topic, DM's final chapter rounded out the narrative so brilliantly I rounded up to a whole extra star. It turns out their shitness is precisely the reason this book on our former rulers is worthwhile. It's a great antidote to any kind of foolish romanticism about the crown. ...more
This is only the second time I've read LotR. The first time, I was less impressed than I had hoped. I think, if I was being totally fair, I'd have givThis is only the second time I've read LotR. The first time, I was less impressed than I had hoped. I think, if I was being totally fair, I'd have given LotR a 3-star rating back in my 20s. I admired the enormous influence LotR had had. It had an epic sense of scale, and the world Tolkien built was sublime. But I found the actual moment to moment reading, with its slow pace, emphasis on the movement through landscape, and self-consciously archaic dialogue, a little dry. I hated Tom Bombadill, finding him entirely out of place both in the narrative and in Middle Earth. I thought the songs were boring, I found the action curiously muted, and I felt the ending was about 100 pages too long.
And then, reader, I got older.
Reading 20 years later, I have completely changed my mind about all of it. So much so that I ripped through the whole thing (all 6 books / 3 volumes) in two months, despite reading two other whole books in between (one between each volume). I thought the pacing was generous and immersive, the landscape writing was elegant and moving; the dialogue... I mean, OK, it's still stilted, but I get why, given Tolkien's design to create an epic of a bygone age. I had no issue with the songs, and even found some of them moving. I found the action plentiful and tastefully restrained, I thought the ending, in all its rolling length, was apt, moving and entirely justified. And, like a ring-bearer becoming everything I once loathed and feared... I genuinely enjoyed Tom Bombadill and wanted more.
The copy I own says on it 'The novel of the century', and the truth is, I think they're probably right, aren't they? And what a time to come, in 1954. After all that shit. A very 20th Century book, and a very, very good one....more
This is an intriguing and multi-layered memoir. Framed as a man's eye-view of the creation of a US Marine Corps special operations unit, Tough Rugged This is an intriguing and multi-layered memoir. Framed as a man's eye-view of the creation of a US Marine Corps special operations unit, Tough Rugged Bastards has plenty in it to appeal to military history buffs. Good firsthand accounts like this offer a greater degree of granularity than top-down views of a historical moment, and that alone tends to make them both valuable and highly engaging. But for people like me who have only a passing interest in military history, there's plenty more here besides.
Chapter by chapter, moment by moment, we follow a narrative eye in motion: examining materiel here, a training manoevre there, and now a dangerous mission in occupied Iraq. A less thoughtful narrator might be satisfied with simply recording the great dramas and intimate minutiae of deployment, fascinating as they are, adding only a splash of patriotic doctrine for colour. But Dailey ranges more broadly, and digs deeper. A discussion of a challenging training exercise will give way to a considered analysis of what gives hardship value. The tense, compelling description of a deadly manhunt will end in a sombre meditation on the human compulsion for violence. All is undercut with a humour that is wry and knowing, if never subversive. It's a testament to the range of this memoir that I, currently retraining as counsellor--that's about as far from being a soldier as you're likely to get in the professional sphere--found a curious degree of symmetry between some of the ideas on display here and my own studies on personal growth and intrinsic value.
And if nothing else, if you read this book, you'll probably end up a converted and card-carrying rucker, like me. If Tough Rugged Bastards taught me anything, it's that there are far worse ways to spend the day than strapping a big weight to your back and walking 'til it aches....more
**spoiler alert** This was my first Maigret. I think the obvious comparison is with Agatha Christie, but really they're very different writers. Christ**spoiler alert** This was my first Maigret. I think the obvious comparison is with Agatha Christie, but really they're very different writers. Christie writes in the tradition of Conan Doyle and other writers whose detectives apply inductive, spuriously scientific methods to deduce who committed a crime. The whole shape of a Christie novel is thus built around this method: spare, tightly plotted, a litany of evidence and counter-evidence which defines a kind of puzzle.
Maigret couldn't be more different. If Christie is 30% character and 70% plot, Maigret gives the better part over to setting. Plot really takes a back burner, and it is the careful construction of atmosphere and place that sits at the fore. This book felt more meandering, slower and more literary than Christie, despite being very short and quick to read.
For much of the novel's length, this delighted me. The early part of the book is quite funny, with Maigret's self-consciousness in the face of Scotland Yard exchange partner Mr. Pyke generating a lot of humour. But as the novel wore on, Maigret himself began to grate on me a little. Aficionados like to say Maigret's defining characteristic is his humanity, and his empathy for even the criminals he arrests. In this novel, I didn't see the evidence.
Instead, what I saw was Maigret paying a man to assault one of his two prime suspects, then launching into a tirade against him when he was caught out, not because he was a murderer, but because he was a wimp. He genuinely seemed to have some empathy for the man's misanthropic partner, who killed out of utter contempt for others. But none at all for the coward, who showed fear when assaulted, and reminded Maigret of a 'sneak' he had participated in group beatings of at school, with his teacher's tacit approval.
I suppose, in post-WWII France, Maigret's revulsion at those who dish out violence but cannot take it makes a lot of sense. But his unspoken endorsement of police violence and organised bullying don't really speak, in my mind, to his empathy or humanity. They make me question how reliable a judge of ethics he really is.
Perhaps the cleverest thing about this novel is the way it leaves you pessimistic about the hope for true justice in the world. I just don't think it was intending to make Maigret's own hypocrisy such an effective vehicle for that pessimism....more
History is not often so beautifully written. At times, this book veers towards the novel, at times to poetry. Ultimately, though, it's a thesis, pittiHistory is not often so beautifully written. At times, this book veers towards the novel, at times to poetry. Ultimately, though, it's a thesis, pitting the world-embracing, curious, compassionate image of history constructed by man-of-letters Damiao de Gois against the dissembling, jingoistic, exploitative but romantically alluring attitude struck by pirate-poet Luis Vaz de Camoes.
Spoiler alert, Camoes' view of the world won, at least temporarily. But while the stain of colonialist bile can be seen all over the world Wilson-Lee portrays here, it's refreshing to get a close up view of something else, half hidden in the history: the conduct of people like Damiao who challenged the prevailing fanaticism of their age and tried to promote understanding....more
I have heard a lot of good things about Lem, but I'd never read him before. This book was a good introduction, in that it showcased what I imagine to I have heard a lot of good things about Lem, but I'd never read him before. This book was a good introduction, in that it showcased what I imagine to be his typical interests and style, and gave me a good sense what his ouevre would be like. It's extremely short--just 4 fairly short stories in a tiny volume clocking in at only 52 pages. I blitzed through it in a day.
The first two stories were great. The language and imagery were beautiful and rich, even in translation. They have the whimsicality that I have always loved in mid-20th Century sci-fi. But I have to say, the latter two stories faltered a bit, for me. Lem is famous for being a bit weird, cerebral and avant garde--all my favourites--but I felt like in these stories he was being more than a little self-indulgent. The last story, with its dreams within dreams within dreams, read like a bad Christopher Nolan script; the prior tale started out with promise then suddenly descended into meaningless tosh.
Even so, I feel like I caught a glimpse of a really great writer here. In the first two stories in particular, there were passages that blew me away. I'll definitely be reading more Lem. I just hope I choose well....more
When I first picked up this book, I commented on the name. 'It's not called Monkey King, ' I said, 'it's called The Journey to the West.' Well, yes anWhen I first picked up this book, I commented on the name. 'It's not called Monkey King, ' I said, 'it's called The Journey to the West.' Well, yes and no. My affront at the silliness of renaming works of classic world literature to appeal to a modern audience aside, there is a degree to which such renaming makes sense when your translation of the text is so heavily abridged.
Indeed, Monkey King is quite far from being what you might call a scholarly translation. Where some translations aim to reproduce with as much fidelity as possible the granular details of the original text, others aim instead at fidelity to the work as a whole, as it was enjoyed by a contemporary audience. Monkey King definitely falls into the latter category. The prose is informal, bouncy and modern, a decision which marries well with the bouncy informality of the action.
And, more than any other classic I've read, the action is what Monkey King is all about. The novel honestly feels like a cross between The Hobbit and Bottom, seen through the eyes of a Chinese Terry Gilliam. It's nuts. Monkey and pig monsters feeding priests piss, random passersby being bashed into literal paste for scant reason, so many horny demons.
I can quite honestly say I've never in my life found a 300+ page work of centuries old literature such a breeze to read. And that's a pretty cool thing. But.
For all its accessibility, I can't help feeling that Monkey King isn't quite the book The Journey to the West is. For one thing, it's about a third or less as long, IIRC. That's a lot of cut material. And yes, the case for leaving out difficult to translate poetry and obscure references to Eastern philosophy makes sense if you're trying to appeal to a mass Western audience. But even so, there is something to be said for... well... challenge.
I, for one, come to literature to learn something, and when I come to classic Eastern literature, it's specifically to learn what it was like to live in a world totally alien to the one I inhabit and understand. And yes, 'universal' human themes and a modern, streamlined narrative, etc., etc. But when it comes right down to it, having it so easy is just a bit less... fun.
The introduction to MK speaks of the division between scholars who see TJttW as irreverent slapstick and those who see it as irreverent bureaucratic satire. I enjoyed the elements which felt like the former. But to me, the real high points were the latter flavour. And in Monkey King, that flavour felt a little watered down. Even so, this is a very buoyant, jolly and silly adventure, and the flashes of greater depth frustrate only in that they are tantalising hints at something more. It may not be The Journey into the West, but Monkey King is a pretty decent facsimile....more
There's something incredibly English about how dreadful the animals of The Wind in the Willows are. They're an irritable bunch, loyal to their friendsThere's something incredibly English about how dreadful the animals of The Wind in the Willows are. They're an irritable bunch, loyal to their friends in adversity well beyond the point of sanity, yet seemingly unable to be civil to them in the quotidian. Something incredibly of-it's-time, too. It's written in surprisingly dense, literary prose, for one thing. And for another, there's never a problem that occurs in the course of the plot that can't be solved by the judicious application of violence.
There's something very English about an ostensible children's book being so focused on presenting its anthropomorphised protagonists at their worst. My favourite as a child was always Rat, but I confess as an adult I found him mildly insufferable. He's such a know-it-all, and although admittedly he's far more sensible than either Mole or Toad, you rather get the sense he's condescending to them both, half the time. Mole arguably comes off the best of any of them, for though he is a bit of a whimpering softy, he's arguably kinder than the rest. I honestly don't remember him casually insulting or threatening any of the others, which is more than I can say for his friends.
Badger, on the other hand, though undoubtedly prudent and generous, is by turns positively sinister. It's his idea to stage an intervention for their friend Toad when it becomes apparent he has developed what amounts to a motoring addiction. This intervention involves forcibly stripping him naked, verbally abusing him and imprisoning him in his own home until he submits to his friends' wishes. Obvious as it is that Toad needs help, I can't help finding the way his friends treat him brutal. But this was the early 1900s, when grumpiness and the casual violation of other people's dignity were cornerstones of English culture. Look at how we used to treat mental patients.
Strangely, despite how dreadful everyone is, you almost forgive them, and the novel, for their awfulness. There is something, after all, terribly honest about admitting what twats we all are. In real life, we moan, and needle, and speak irascibly all the time; yet the people close to us continually forgive us. This is seldom presented in literature. And despite all our awfulnesses, we are also often our better selves. This is demonstrated through all the characters, but none moreso than Toad. Rat is brave, Badger giving, Mole gentle, but Toad has the quality most sacred of all to the English: he is hilarious.
Toad, in many ways, is a git. He's rich, flash, stupid, arrogant, selfish, rude, and snobbish. Worse, to my mind, he is indifferent to the suffering he causes others. He also displays an alarmingly cavalier attitude to health and safety. He almost--almost--gets a pass, because his antics are so funny. He puts himself through so much disaster and ignominy, and thus sends himself up so well, that his chapters are among the most readable in the novel.
But ultimately, I think if we were left only with Toad's antics and his friends' endeavours to save him, the book would fall apart under its own chaotic momentum. The undercurrent of menace is too strong. However, that isn't all we're left with. What really elevates The Wind in the Willows, for me, are the other passages. Chapters like The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (for which Pink Floyd named their debut album). These slower, more meditative pieces balance the whole and raise it to a higher plane. They are sensitive to the beauty and soul of the world around us. That romantic impulse is one of the few aspects of old-fashioned Englishness I am not glad we lost in the ringer. This is a strange, wild book. But it's very human....more
The Tao of Pooh was an excellent book, close to 5 stars. It explains Taoism in a beautifully whimsical and practically accessible way, one which got mThe Tao of Pooh was an excellent book, close to 5 stars. It explains Taoism in a beautifully whimsical and practically accessible way, one which got me seriously interested in the philosophy. It's a soft, gentle, easy read. You can breeze through it in a day. The lessons in it, though hard (or rather, long) to truly master, can be understood by even a child. And they are really good lessons. Some of the best I've ever learned, and I've had to learn the rudiments of this philosophy myself, the hard way. I sort of wish I'd read this book when I was a teenager--and every year since, to remind myself.
The Te of Piglet is nooooowhere near as good. While it has merit as a companion piece, it is marred by a lot of middle-aged-man-shaking-his-fist-at-the-kids cynicism. It's pretty ironic that immediately after a lengthy passage criticising the 'Eeyores' of this world and their negging, Hoff reveals himself to be perfectly capable of the same behaviour.
Once you see it, you can't unsee it, and soon I realised that Hoff's thesis relies almost exclusively on criticising those with which he does not agree. Even his sense of humour rests on mocking straw man versions of Milne's classic characters. And this is a mistake. Although I believe Hoff intends to offer empathy to his imagined opponents, his text, in practice, falls short. This is something his source material doesn't do, IIRC: the Winnie-the-Pooh stories always seemed to me more generous than that.
I would heartily recommend The Tao of Pooh to literally anyone. I say that of few books. Don't bother with the Te of Piglet unless you're a completionist....more
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