Books, books, books...

[Nappi]

While grinding Diablo 3, I thought to listen to an audiobook to see if I'd like it, and found a free version of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. The resulting experience was a weird one. Because my attention would sometimes lapse or drift back into the game, I didn't catch all the details of the book, or the intricacies of the characters and events. What I ended up with was a cloud of images and themes that strangely coalesced into a wonderful sense of the brooding jungle atmosphere. Very strange. Probably not ideal, but interesting nonetheless.

I've also just started Malthus' essay on the principles of population. It's another book of the sort I tend to read often, classic non-fiction (late 18th century), so it's very much in my comfort zone.

Interestingly enough, I had a very similar experience with Heart of Darkness. I was listening to the audiobook at work and while I often missed some details and minor plot points, I was constantly aware of the gradient shift towards (the heart of) darkness.

I should probably read the book at some point, if only to see whether I have a different impression of it once I give it my full attention.

[circadianwolf]

Heart of Darkness is probably one of the best novels to do that sort of thing with, since the primary feature of it is that kaleidoscopic delerium of imagery (obviously Apocalypse Now is designed toward the same sensation, not to mention that video game inspired by it). Though there is some interesting stuff with Marlowe's narration going on that probably requires a closer reading.

I finally got around to finishing Glenn Greenwald's With Liberty and Justice for Some, on the corruption of the American justice system. It's a good collection of data, though frequently frustrating in his analysis. Now working my way through Distrust That Particular Flavor, the recent collection of William Gibson's non-fiction.

I also just got a physical copy of Joey Comeau's Lockpick Pornography, which is a fantastic little novel that I look forward to re-reading.

[Chris]

Just picked up Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall. I heard an interview with the author on the BBC World Book Club a while back, which made me really interested initially, and it won the Booker Prize, so it can't be bad!

All I really know about it is that it is historical fiction in which Thomas Cromwell is the protagonist, which is interesting in and of itself, since I think to most people (including myself) he is best known in popular culture through A Man for All Seasons, in which he is portrayed quite negatively.

[Gormongous]

I hope I'm not repeating anyone, since I only joined the forum a few months ago and have only made it about halfway through the old posts on this monster thread. As a grad student with impending doctoral exams, what I'm mostly reading are books from the hundred-entry core syllabus. Malcolm Barber's The Two Cities stands before me, with Cyril Mango's Byzantium: The Empire of the New Rome ahead and Marc Bloch's La Société féodale behind.

But no one wants to hear about my academic march to the sea. For pleasure I'm splitting my time between a fiction book and some nonfiction. Currently, the former is the abridged 1992 translation of Yoshikawa Eiji's Taiko, a fictionalized biography of Toyotomi Hideyoshi. I'm reading it on the recommendation of Tim Stone from Rock Paper Shotgun and battling very mixed feelings in the process. For what is supposedly a character sketch, Hideyoshi's personality and motivations seem wildly variable. He is both clever and dense, sentimental and hardnosed, carefree and intense, faithful and conniving, each in turn as the plot demands. Yet it's in service to an vivid and heartfelt tapestry of life during the sengoku jidai, which I find hard to fault. I often find myself wondering if the aggressive abridgment or translation is ruining the author's presentation. I know just enough about Japanese to tell that occasional compromises are happening, at least.

On the nonfiction side of things, I'm reading James Gleick's The Information: A History, a Theory, a Flood. I've had an intense curiosity about Claude Shannon and information theory since rereading Vernor Vinge's A Deepness in the Sky a year ago, and I can certainly say that this is feeding it well. Besides that, all I can say thus far is that it's surprisingly personable, but that speaks mostly to my professional distrust of "object" histories, which are way too much in vogue right now.

Before all this, I was reading through Ursula K. Le Guin's Earthsea series, though I stopped short of the full bibliography out of sheer fatigue. I found A Wizard of Earthsea charmingly sparse, reminiscent of my time reading Meredith Ann Pierce's Darkangel trilogy and Garth Nix's Abhorsen books so long ago. The Tombs of Atuan only managed to tinge that pleasure with the slightest unease at the presence of a soapbox. Halfway through The Farthest Shore, I'd already decided to take a vacation from Ms. Le Guin. They're not particularly long books that she writes, but the economy of her prose and the ever-present sense of parable wears on even the most amenable reader.

Anyway, that's it for now. I'll duck back in once I've read the whole thread (and probably added a half dozen books to my own list, to boot).

[Thyroid]

I read through Patrick Suskind's The Pigeon yesterday, a short, good and depressing novella about a man whose obsessive, meticulous lifestyle - one of a hermit - is set off-balance when a pigeon decides to land on his front doorstep. Considering the author, it felt almost autobiographical.

For what is supposedly a character sketch, Hideyoshi's personality and motivations seem wildly variable. He is both clever and dense, sentimental and hardnosed, carefree and intense, faithful and conniving, each in turn as the plot demands.

I've found that, very often, the best, most-rounded and believable characters are the ones that are, essentially, a pile of contradictions. MaybeTaiko is an attempt at that? Or is it that the character switches beliefs at the drop of a hat?

The Information sounds like a very interesting book.

[Chris]

On the nonfiction side of things, I'm reading James Gleick's The Information: A History, a Theory, a Flood. I've had an intense curiosity about Claude Shannon and information theory since rereading Vernor Vinge's A Deepness in the Sky a year ago, and I can certainly say that this is feeding it well. Besides that, all I can say thus far is that it's surprisingly personable, but that speaks mostly to my professional distrust of "object" histories, which are way too much in vogue right now.

When I was at Irrational one of my coworkers there would read this on the train every day for quite a while. It sounded quite interesting from his descriptions, but I also suspected that if I were to attempt to read it I would never finish.

[Roderick]

All I really know about it is that it is historical fiction in which Thomas Cromwell is the protagonist, which is interesting in and of itself, since I think to most people (including myself) he is best known in popular culture through A Man for All Seasons, in which he is portrayed quite negatively.

I think most people nowadays are familiar with Cromwell from his (more positive) portrayal in The Tudors, which really served as a who's who from that period. The only thing I know about A Man For All Seasons is a Youtube clip where Cromwell explains he would give the devil the benefit of justice, which I thought made him rather a likeable sort of person.

[Gormongous]

I've found that, very often, the best, most-rounded and believable characters are the ones that are, essentially, a pile of contradictions. MaybeTaiko is an attempt at that? Or is it that the character switches beliefs at the drop of a hat?

At its best, Taiko is like that, but more often the main character goes from bravery to cowardice in the space of a page, with no logical sequence connecting the two. In a way, it reminds me of the descriptivist histories I occasionally have to read, where events are flatly stated with no attempt to suss out motivation. Richard I Lionheart goes on crusade, burns a castle in Messina, meets with his betrothed, conquers Cyprus, befriends Guy de Lusignan, and so on. Taiko is more abrupt even than that, but it's an abrupt book in general, which is what makes me wonder about the editor and translator.

When I was at Irrational one of my coworkers there would read this on the train every day for quite a while. It sounded quite interesting from his descriptions, but I also suspected that if I were to attempt to read it I would never finish.

It's exactly the sort of book I'd imagine you guys bringing up on your podcast, though. If it helps at all, it's not really a book that has to be read all at once, or even to the exclusion of other books. Sure, there's an overarching argument being made about information as the fundamental building block of reality, but I think that's better presented in Vlatko Vedral's Decoding Reality. Where The Information really shines is the vignettes that structure each chapter, nuggets of interesting ideas that you can chew on for weeks. The first few chapters about African "talking" drums, the history of writing, and the creation of the first dictionaries highlighted the enormous differences between oral and written cultures so well that I found myself bringing them up in every conversation I was having (and sounding like a terrific smartass too, I bet).

[Chris]

I think most people nowadays are familiar with Cromwell from his (more positive) portrayal in The Tudors, which really served as a who's who from that period. The only thing I know about A Man For All Seasons is a Youtube clip where Cromwell explains he would give the devil the benefit of justice, which I thought made him rather a likeable sort of person.

Ah yeah, I guess that's possible. I tried watching that but it just seemed too silly. Obviously it's intended as fiction and not strict historical fact, but it didn't seem like there was actually anything of substance there to justify that. It just seemed like soap opera that happened to use some names of historical characters.

[Chris]

It's exactly the sort of book I'd imagine you guys bringing up on your podcast, though. If it helps at all, it's not really a book that has to be read all at once, or even to the exclusion of other books. Sure, there's an overarching argument being made about information as the fundamental building block of reality, but I think that's better presented in Vlatko Vedral's Decoding Reality. Where The Information really shines is the vignettes that structure each chapter, nuggets of interesting ideas that you can chew on for weeks. The first few chapters about African "talking" drums, the history of writing, and the creation of the first dictionaries highlighted the enormous differences between oral and written cultures so well that I found myself bringing them up in every conversation I was having (and sounding like a terrific smartass too, I bet).

Maybe I'll give it a shot!

[Roderick]

Ah yeah, I guess that's possible. I tried watching that but it just seemed too silly. Obviously it's intended as fiction and not strict historical fact, but it didn't seem like there was actually anything of substance there to justify that. It just seemed like soap opera that happened to use some names of historical characters.

Pretty much. I enjoyed it as a soap opera though, it gave me much the same pleasures I now get from Game of Thrones.

[Codicier]

Just finished off Rick Perlstein's Nixonland. Although it can at first seem a bit of a imposing tome, I'd recommend it for anyone with even a passing interest in politics.

What made the book work for me was Perlstein's focus on the personalities not just the politics. In Nixon you have a fascinating anti-hero and he's ably supported by a ensemble cast that has a fair few familiar names. Gore, Romney, Bush, Regan,Cheney all make appearances and of course there is the ever present Kennedy clan.

After a while its not just the names that seem familiar, the strangest thing is how at the same time so little and yet so much has changed since Tricky Dicky's day. I was drawn to the book by a fascination with the mythology that has developed around Nixon's part in the 1960 election, Perlstein takes that even and shows us how Nixon moved inextricably from that low to the heights of his two victories and down again to the mire of Watergate dragging US politics with him.

I think the highest praise I can give it is that after reading this US politics started to make a warped kind of sense to me, and that although I may not have approved of much that Nixon the politician did, it gave me some sympathy and insight into Nixon the man.

Think I may go for either Wolf Hall or possibly I might go totally in the other direction and try some Mark Twain or Scott Fitzgerald.

[gregbrown]

Just finished off Rick Perlstein's Nixonland....

I'll second this, and add that Perlstein's writing is so incredible for me not just because he knows how to capture the politics and the personalities, but that he can seemingly recreate the culture of the moment. Nixonland is actually a sort-of-sequel to his earlier book Before the Storm, which covers the presidential campaign of Goldwater and how a bunch of activists essentially engineered his nomination within the GOP and started the shift rightward that has lasted for almost 50 years now. Even though the backbone of the book is the planning and the bureaucratic hurdles and tactics used to push Goldwater within state party organizations and the like, Perlstein takes time off to discuss things like nuclear scares, and people writing about finding Strontium in children's teeth.

Perlstein's a deeply liberal writer, but his books work because he makes you see why the other side was so appealing, in most cases making a better argument for it than many modern conservatives. It's a tremendous achievement, and why I think he's one of the best historians working today. His next book The Invisible Bridge, will cap off the trilogy by covering the leadup to Reagan winning the presidency. So excited, though I think it won't be until around 2014 if he keeps up the current pace.

I actually prefer Before the Storm by a little bit over Nixonland, as it has a stronger through-line compared to Nixonland (which kinda slips into general-zeitgeist-mode for a chunk before Nixon's second political rise really takes hold).

(You can also see that Perlstein seems to be one of the first post-search-engine historians, able to call up evocative little details and facts from the news at the time. It's really remarkable, and goes a long way towards making his technique work so well.)

[Codicier]

Perlstein's a deeply liberal writer, but his books work because he makes you see why the other side was so appealing, in most cases making a better argument for it than many modern conservatives.

He certainly does play the role of devil's advocate with some skill, as well as showing genuine respect and empathy for Nixon and his supporters. Partly I think this must come from the way he identifies the inability to do so as one of the main failures of liberal politics in the later half of the 20th-century.

I think I will get around to Before the Storm sooner or later since I enjoyed Nixonland so much, although its availability on this side of the Atlantic means that perhaps it is not as high on my priority list as it would be if it was easier to get hold of.

[Patters]

Just finished Acts of Violence by Ryan David Jahn this morning.

It can be hard to read at times, simply due to the description of the events in the book, it's not particularly long at ~280 pages. The writing style is a little schizophrenic, jumping from insular short stories of characters living around a courtyard, tied together as witnesses to the central act of violence. The story is loosely based upon the murder of Kitty Genovese. It's worth a look if you aren't squeamish

[vimes]

I finished recently "The Death of Ivan Ilitch" and "The Devil" by Tolstoi which I only enjoyed reasonably but I think would interest a few people around here.

Both of those centre on characters who, at one point in their lives, take a look back and are horrified at what their past have been.

Ivan Illitch is better in my opinion, because of the way it coldly describes the inescapable fear of death. It's not a complete success though:

I find it a bit silly to have such a dark short story lead by a protagonist who can still make sense of his suffering by repenting from his decorum-lead life and thus elevate himself in the last moments. It would have been more potent to use a character whose horrible demise is unjustified in view of the honest and good life he lead; then having him struggle and fail to find an escape or explanation for his "punishment". But that's probably more my beliefs that Tolstoi's.

As for "The Devil", it was equally fascinating and frustrating to me, It's fascinating, because Tolstoi depicts a character who is mostly harmless, who wants to good, but is overblowing so much his unique flaw, that he makes it harder for him to resist it. It's like he constructed this dark, twisted version of his desire and, having created the beast, has to put in motion the doom he's convinced it will bring. A sort of self-fullfilling prophecy. It's fascinating, because it's as if his far too demanding moral system pushed him toward violating it. But it's frustrating because the short-story is quite long and the back and forth between neurosis and stability phases are numerous and repetitive. It's an interesting read after all the AA stuff from Infinite Jest. It's also pretty cool, because it has two, very different endings.

[Roderick]

Cool, Vimes, on my list. I plan to eventually reading everything Tolstoy wrote.

[ThunderPeel2001]

While grinding Diablo 3, I thought to listen to an audiobook to see if I'd like it, and found a free version of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. The resulting experience was a weird one. Because my attention would sometimes lapse or drift back into the game, I didn't catch all the details of the book, or the intricacies of the characters and events. What I ended up with was a cloud of images and themes that strangely coalesced into a wonderful sense of the brooding jungle atmosphere. Very strange. Probably not ideal, but interesting nonetheless.

I've also just started Malthus' essay on the principles of population. It's another book of the sort I tend to read often, classic non-fiction (late 18th century), so it's very much in my comfort zone.

I find that's always the case with audiobooks. It's the main reason I don't listen to them.

[thainatos]

I find that's always the case with audiobooks. It's the main reason I don't listen to them.

I've found this to be the case as well, but I've also found that some audiobooks lend themselves well to several listenings.

I started The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, based on Chris' tweets. Not sure where it's going yet, but I like David Mitchell's writing.

[SuperHarman]

Had a conversation about Orhan Pamuk with a friend and she sent me an article about The Museum of Innoncence discussing the fact that he actually built a museum for it. Got me pretty intrigued so I ordered it immediately, looks great but think I still might read Snow first just because the plot continues to intrigue me.

Over half way through From Hell but unless it falls apart I'm pretty sure it will be among my favourite graphic novels.

[Orv]

Re: audiobooks, don't listen to them if you're doing something that requires more than slight concentration. I listened to the (absolutely brilliant) Stephen Fry version Harry Potter audio books over the course of a month or so of Minecraft, and never had a problem. It also helps that my keyboard has a WMP pause/play key if something does come up. I like audiobooks, but they can do some weird things. The audiobook of The Lies of Locke Lamora completely shattered every mental idea I had about how the characters sounded, which seems to be a frequent danger.

[Scipio]

I tied listening to Hegemony or Survival as an audiobook while going for walks, which is my usual way to listen to podcasts, but I gave up after it felt like every 30 seconds I was getting distracted by a bee and loosing track of what he was going on about.

[ThunderPeel2001]

Harman: I'm not sure if you know this, but FH is kind of designed so you read the appendix's after each chapter. That's how it was published as single issues, but they moved it all the back for the collected edition.

[Gormongous]

The audiobook of The Lies of Locke Lamora completely shattered every mental idea I had about how the characters sounded, which seems to be a frequent danger.

I think this is a common danger with any adaptation from a literary work, though. I spent about one quarter of my time while watching the new Game of Thrones series feeling put off that Jon Snow was so much greasier and puffier than I'd imagined him.

[SuperHarman]

Harman: I'm not sure if you know this, but FH is kind of designed so you read the appendix's after each chapter. That's how it was published as single issues, but they moved it all the back for the collected edition.

Yeah, although the way I've been approaching this is rather than reading it all at the end of a given issue, if there was something that particularly stood out (the scene where Gull looks through the window into the future for example) I'll go to the appendix to see where it came from. I'll then catch up on the rest once I've finished the book. Perhaps not the way it was intended, but I'm finding it interesting.