How many imitations and parodies, how many attempts to cash on the success of DA Vinci Code with the same format and same history with slightly different turns to the story and convenient solutions to the mystery (so as to not anger the powers quite as much as DVC or its original research base - Holy Blood, Holy Grail - did) - I don't know if anyone has kept a tally. This one might have sold on the name and the huge publicity then to the topic, but if it made waves they were not comparable.
Descriptions of the Knights Templar history and of the Languedoc region with Pyrenées thrown in for good measure, interspersed with a murderous chase across Europe from Copenhagen to Pyrenées and Avignon to Rennes-Le-Chateau, positing Templars alive and well, well hidden in remote Abbeys and attempting to rediscover the famed and very well known wealth they hid so well from Philip IV when he let loose the greed oriented massacre on them that nobody found it until now, forms most of the content of this poor imitation or poorer spoof of DVC.
The author poses a key question, only one, in fourth part- which is the only part that makes it worth a look - and answers it with a solution of a find along with a "let's not rock the boat" comforting for those of official beliefs or those of interests in official beliefs.
To his credit the author does give one - only one - other point of view different from the official church of Rome, but that is the view of the power of oil today, noted mainly due to the shock of "how can they not love us, how can they hate us so much" post 2001 with a convenient belief that this accommodating along with a downright denouncing of any other view will make the things all right once again and oil producers will love the majorly oil consuming populaces.
So while the fourth part asks very relevant questions and posts various facts about the story now over two millennia old, the finalé offers a solution that contradicts a very major point of the very query in the fourth part, and goes with the official version instead, namely, blaming Jews for the execution of an all loving man rather than answering how such an all loving man was executed by Roman powers by the method usually reserved for those that rebelled against Roman occupation of Judea and fought for independence in the usual ways. This makes for a major hole in the book while the very reasonable and rational explanation of the "resurrection" attempts to placate both science and faith, although chances are the latter will reject the obvious.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Indian Anti-Communists: Bal Thackeray, C. Rajagopalachari, Sita RAM Goel, Mamata Banerjee, Salwa Judum, Arun Shourie, RAM Swarup, Gurcharan Das
The book has two readers on the site where I found it, as of now, and the other one is in hiding. But even apart from this there are ironies in the situation when one considers it as a title on shelf on a site based in US, what with the title with its first three words.
Two largest democracies of the world, US and India - both nations relatively large in sizes, relative to, say, any of the democratic European nations, and the latter making up in numbers (over a billion and counting) what it lacks in development and prosperity as measured by western standards - differ in may ways and contrast in much, but never in any as much as in this - that when you enter US you must declare if you have ever entertained any leftist sympathies, which is supposed to indicate you might be attempting a communist takeover of the country you are trying to enter; while anyone in India not overtly paying lip service to leftist thought and latest fads of whatever is dictated thereby is fraudulently accused of not only being "right wing" but of running around with knives, never mind the facts about any of it (the last time a major massacre happened one way with knives was in Calcutta in '46 in order to twist Gandhi's elbow to give in to demands of dividing the then united nation along religious lines with a truculent party with a fundamentalist inability to live with others of different views and faiths winning their separate piece to throw out others out of) - and hence the absurd title of "anti-communists" epithet here does not convey how much hatred is inherent in the two words, however undeserved.
A very militant Tamil once told a secure gathering how she hated Thackeray, and went on to repeat it for a few minutes with no explanations - she thought none were needed, since Thackeray has consistently opposed any politics and policies that go against local people in his state.
I did not wish to bring forth a diatribe of muck which I was quite certain she was capable of unleashing, and so forebore from pointing out what everyone - at least those that remember the beginning of Thackeray in his home state - know so well; which is, he is but a pale mirror image of those that rule her own home state, which allows no tolerance for anyone from outside the state, none for anyone who is of a different linguistic origin, and generally makes life hell for any dissidents; no jobs for outsiders however superior in qualifications of every sort, goes without saying, while Tamilians on the other hand not only enjoy jobs at every level including highest in most other states - especially in Mumbai and other economically prosperious cities of India - but promote one another without question and set up cry if locals are given a preference of any sort.
The state of Tamilnadu which was carved out with a major portion of Madras state pre independence enjoyed preferential treatment given by British due to help they gave in defeating 1857, especially compared to neighbouring states of Karnataka (then Mysore) and Kerala (then Travancore and so on), and still clamour to keep the status quo. If now one of the states is given a much needed railway connection, up goes the furore in Madras to claim more or most of the pie as per tradition - and let us not even get started with the ridiculous wars over water.
All this might seem irrelevant, except that left or right in India is mostly a matter of who calls names louder and gets established with his lies.
One person visiting a state across to east gets s promptly arrested and thrown out on charge of being a right wing trouble maker since he was for a particular temple with a popular support, while another one from the said eastern state threatens to arrive in a western metropolis to conduct a ceremony of worship for reproductive purposes publicly (the latter ceremony is normally a private affair) in order to establish that millions of his home state people have a right to live in the said one metropolis never mind how much bursting at seams. This latter one threatening to conduct the reproductive worship publicly is counted as a left wing non religious politician. He gets to call names, while those with more culture and civilisation conduct themselves on their dignity.
So the title really begins with a name calling, whether so understood in US or otherwise. And fact is, while for example Shourie might not love or hate communists per say, he would expose them for their frauds as he would anyone - he was a journalist par excellence and integrity with fearlessness was the forte of his newspaper as long as he was there. For this, lack of blind following of orders from the correct brand of "foreigners", he gets to be called anti communist here.
The rest? Chakravaty Rajagopalachari was a very respected man in Congress who was less than appreciated in his own home state of then Madras, due to his realistic and benefic views rather than pandering to populist vocalisation resulting in half baked economic results. He is branded as anti communist due to his policies which might actually might have benefited his people and his nation far better without keeping conservative past necessarily brought into future. But politics was more important than people to his opponents, who are branded leftist.
As for Mamata Banerjee, it is inexcusable to call her any names - she is, simply put, the sister of the poor and disfranchised in her state, which due to leftist (read obedient to marxist-maoist) policies is now one of the poorest states of India for several decades, down from the days of pride of being the capital of the British before the formality of empire and crowning (for which they chose the historical capital of India, Delhi). If she is anti communist it merely points strongly to communists being not only wrong but total jackasses. And so they have been in the state they have had a free hand to rule for quite a few decades, imposing the party rule rather than going with what is good for people, what people wish or feel or need, thus following the usual line of a totalitarian rule by whatever the name of creed. Mamata Banerjee is the much beloved Didi (sister) of her people, which is why she has any clout at all - she works for them, unlike the communists of India.
Thus the politics of India, with words separated from meanings, never mind the Divine status of Word and Meaning expounded on by an ancient poet - fortunately the ancient tradition was not of burial, else they would all be turning in pain.
Two largest democracies of the world, US and India - both nations relatively large in sizes, relative to, say, any of the democratic European nations, and the latter making up in numbers (over a billion and counting) what it lacks in development and prosperity as measured by western standards - differ in may ways and contrast in much, but never in any as much as in this - that when you enter US you must declare if you have ever entertained any leftist sympathies, which is supposed to indicate you might be attempting a communist takeover of the country you are trying to enter; while anyone in India not overtly paying lip service to leftist thought and latest fads of whatever is dictated thereby is fraudulently accused of not only being "right wing" but of running around with knives, never mind the facts about any of it (the last time a major massacre happened one way with knives was in Calcutta in '46 in order to twist Gandhi's elbow to give in to demands of dividing the then united nation along religious lines with a truculent party with a fundamentalist inability to live with others of different views and faiths winning their separate piece to throw out others out of) - and hence the absurd title of "anti-communists" epithet here does not convey how much hatred is inherent in the two words, however undeserved.
A very militant Tamil once told a secure gathering how she hated Thackeray, and went on to repeat it for a few minutes with no explanations - she thought none were needed, since Thackeray has consistently opposed any politics and policies that go against local people in his state.
I did not wish to bring forth a diatribe of muck which I was quite certain she was capable of unleashing, and so forebore from pointing out what everyone - at least those that remember the beginning of Thackeray in his home state - know so well; which is, he is but a pale mirror image of those that rule her own home state, which allows no tolerance for anyone from outside the state, none for anyone who is of a different linguistic origin, and generally makes life hell for any dissidents; no jobs for outsiders however superior in qualifications of every sort, goes without saying, while Tamilians on the other hand not only enjoy jobs at every level including highest in most other states - especially in Mumbai and other economically prosperious cities of India - but promote one another without question and set up cry if locals are given a preference of any sort.
The state of Tamilnadu which was carved out with a major portion of Madras state pre independence enjoyed preferential treatment given by British due to help they gave in defeating 1857, especially compared to neighbouring states of Karnataka (then Mysore) and Kerala (then Travancore and so on), and still clamour to keep the status quo. If now one of the states is given a much needed railway connection, up goes the furore in Madras to claim more or most of the pie as per tradition - and let us not even get started with the ridiculous wars over water.
All this might seem irrelevant, except that left or right in India is mostly a matter of who calls names louder and gets established with his lies.
One person visiting a state across to east gets s promptly arrested and thrown out on charge of being a right wing trouble maker since he was for a particular temple with a popular support, while another one from the said eastern state threatens to arrive in a western metropolis to conduct a ceremony of worship for reproductive purposes publicly (the latter ceremony is normally a private affair) in order to establish that millions of his home state people have a right to live in the said one metropolis never mind how much bursting at seams. This latter one threatening to conduct the reproductive worship publicly is counted as a left wing non religious politician. He gets to call names, while those with more culture and civilisation conduct themselves on their dignity.
So the title really begins with a name calling, whether so understood in US or otherwise. And fact is, while for example Shourie might not love or hate communists per say, he would expose them for their frauds as he would anyone - he was a journalist par excellence and integrity with fearlessness was the forte of his newspaper as long as he was there. For this, lack of blind following of orders from the correct brand of "foreigners", he gets to be called anti communist here.
The rest? Chakravaty Rajagopalachari was a very respected man in Congress who was less than appreciated in his own home state of then Madras, due to his realistic and benefic views rather than pandering to populist vocalisation resulting in half baked economic results. He is branded as anti communist due to his policies which might actually might have benefited his people and his nation far better without keeping conservative past necessarily brought into future. But politics was more important than people to his opponents, who are branded leftist.
As for Mamata Banerjee, it is inexcusable to call her any names - she is, simply put, the sister of the poor and disfranchised in her state, which due to leftist (read obedient to marxist-maoist) policies is now one of the poorest states of India for several decades, down from the days of pride of being the capital of the British before the formality of empire and crowning (for which they chose the historical capital of India, Delhi). If she is anti communist it merely points strongly to communists being not only wrong but total jackasses. And so they have been in the state they have had a free hand to rule for quite a few decades, imposing the party rule rather than going with what is good for people, what people wish or feel or need, thus following the usual line of a totalitarian rule by whatever the name of creed. Mamata Banerjee is the much beloved Didi (sister) of her people, which is why she has any clout at all - she works for them, unlike the communists of India.
Thus the politics of India, with words separated from meanings, never mind the Divine status of Word and Meaning expounded on by an ancient poet - fortunately the ancient tradition was not of burial, else they would all be turning in pain.
In Spite the Gods: The Rise of Modern India; by Edward Luce.
The official description on the site, which may or may not represent the book or the author, and might very well be an editorial comment, goes :-
"India remains a mystery to many Americans, even as it is poised to become the world’s third largest economy within a generation, outstripping Japan. It will surpass China in population by 2032 and will have more English speakers than the United States by 2050. In In Spite of the Gods , Edward Luce, a journalist who covered India for many years, makes brilliant sense of India and its rise to global power. Already a number-one bestseller in India, his book is sure to be acknowledged for years as the definitive introduction to modern India. In Spite of the Gods illuminates a land of many contradictions. The booming tech sector we read so much about in the West, Luce points out, employs no more than one million of India’s 1.1 billion people. Only 35 million people, in fact, have formal enough jobs to pay taxes, while three-quarters of the country lives in extreme deprivation in India’s 600,000 villages. Yet amid all these extremes exists the world’s largest experiment in representative democracy—and a largely successful one, despite bureaucracies riddled with horrifying corruption. Luce shows that India is an economic rival to the U.S. in an entirely different sense than China is. There is nothing in India like the manufacturing capacity of China, despite the huge potential labor force. An inept system of public education leaves most Indians illiterate and unskilled. Yet at the other extreme, the middle class produces ten times as many engineering students a year as the United States. Notwithstanding its future as a major competitor in a globalized economy, American. leaders have been encouraging India’s rise, even welcoming it into the nuclear energy club, hoping to balance China’s influence in Asia. Above all, In Spite of the Gods is an enlightening study of the forces shaping India as it tries to balance the stubborn traditions of the past with an unevenly modernizing present. Deeply informed by scholarship and history, leavened by humor and rich in anecdote, it shows that India has huge opportunities as well as tremendous challenges that make the future “hers to lose.” "
The underlying biases are so taken for granted that they are not clear in plain sight, and amount to biases similar to equating blond with beautiful (with opposite assumptions silent but held tacitly far more strongly).
The title for instance assumes no reaction to any insult to the many, many religions and faiths and differences of thought that are equally held reverent in the country, mainly due to the character of the traditional way of thought of majority and their religion (often denied a status of religion in western television channels, since it does not confirm to a one person one book one god imposed on all followers and attempting to convert all others sort of pattern understood more easily for its simplicity, never mind the similarity of such faiths with any totalitarian way of thought) - but also the very freedom of worship inherent in the character of the nation is blatantly ignored, or worse, heavily disrespected, in the title and the underlying assumption therein.
Often people tend to hold concatenation as causal connection, and in west this has happened with economic rise being related to a relentless imposition of authoritative mode of faith and wiping out of alternatives - even all knowledge and rights thereto - being imprisoned within the authority fences and the duel that therefore necessarily was fought for freedom of thought against the religious authorities. It is forgotten that while this need to fight for the freedom of thought and knowledge might have helped a great deal, the prosperity would be far less if not accompanied by colonial occupation of other continents and usurping of their wealth, whatever the state of the local people and the treatment accorded to them by the colonial usurping occupiers, whether in Australia or across the ocean in American continent or Asia or Africa.
If this is not believable, just think of how life would be in Europe if there were no migration possible to any other continent, if everyone who wished to travel from Europe anywhere had to mortgage a significant part of their properties and undergo humiliating experiences on arrival in the other lands. Without the migration and the loot from other continents, Europe would be very crowded with poor as it was only two centuries ago - in fact, UK sponsored migration to Australia for all her poor just post wwII, officially, just as it was done for a while towards Canada or US prior to the wars so as to free large estates of aristocracy of the poor locals.
Much more to the graphic illustrative point, imagine if Africa owned the diamonds and the firms in Europe and coffee were to be as expensive as diamonds are today to west, while diamonds cost as much as best Champagne (and I mean, Champagne, not sparkling wine from elsewhere) - which might very well happen if local people owned the lands and used it to feed their own, sparing little for export to others for luxuries.
Once a neighbour in Germany had described poverty of East Germany where she visited relatives by relating how they could not afford bananas. I pointed out that first and foremost if the thing does not grow locally it could not be good for health, much less a necessity; as long as they had apples in their back or front yards on trees, they were in good shape for health and food and fruit. Bananas in fact are suitable only for tropical consumption, where they do grow - they are good food for heat of the locales and are cold in effect as food.
But to continue the thread, here is one more - imagine bananas cost more than opium and its byproducts in lands where they do not grow, and coconuts are no less than precious metals by weight. Would that be deprivation, when a product of one's own land gets a mere fraction of that from another? That is what the ex colonial lands (and natives of occupation forgotten lands of Australia and America too) have lived through.
In short, the prosperity of west has just as much to do with the looting via colonial occupations of various lands and migration to the lands taken over for good, as to do with the science versus faith wars Europe had to fight resulting in tremendous growth in science and technology.
Relating this prosperity to the religion of the west is the false assumption inherent in the title. Relating the prosperity to virtue of every kind is the other, deeper false assumption.
"India remains a mystery to many Americans, even as it is poised to become the world’s third largest economy within a generation, outstripping Japan. It will surpass China in population by 2032 and will have more English speakers than the United States by 2050. In In Spite of the Gods , Edward Luce, a journalist who covered India for many years, makes brilliant sense of India and its rise to global power. Already a number-one bestseller in India, his book is sure to be acknowledged for years as the definitive introduction to modern India. In Spite of the Gods illuminates a land of many contradictions. The booming tech sector we read so much about in the West, Luce points out, employs no more than one million of India’s 1.1 billion people. Only 35 million people, in fact, have formal enough jobs to pay taxes, while three-quarters of the country lives in extreme deprivation in India’s 600,000 villages. Yet amid all these extremes exists the world’s largest experiment in representative democracy—and a largely successful one, despite bureaucracies riddled with horrifying corruption. Luce shows that India is an economic rival to the U.S. in an entirely different sense than China is. There is nothing in India like the manufacturing capacity of China, despite the huge potential labor force. An inept system of public education leaves most Indians illiterate and unskilled. Yet at the other extreme, the middle class produces ten times as many engineering students a year as the United States. Notwithstanding its future as a major competitor in a globalized economy, American. leaders have been encouraging India’s rise, even welcoming it into the nuclear energy club, hoping to balance China’s influence in Asia. Above all, In Spite of the Gods is an enlightening study of the forces shaping India as it tries to balance the stubborn traditions of the past with an unevenly modernizing present. Deeply informed by scholarship and history, leavened by humor and rich in anecdote, it shows that India has huge opportunities as well as tremendous challenges that make the future “hers to lose.” "
The underlying biases are so taken for granted that they are not clear in plain sight, and amount to biases similar to equating blond with beautiful (with opposite assumptions silent but held tacitly far more strongly).
The title for instance assumes no reaction to any insult to the many, many religions and faiths and differences of thought that are equally held reverent in the country, mainly due to the character of the traditional way of thought of majority and their religion (often denied a status of religion in western television channels, since it does not confirm to a one person one book one god imposed on all followers and attempting to convert all others sort of pattern understood more easily for its simplicity, never mind the similarity of such faiths with any totalitarian way of thought) - but also the very freedom of worship inherent in the character of the nation is blatantly ignored, or worse, heavily disrespected, in the title and the underlying assumption therein.
Often people tend to hold concatenation as causal connection, and in west this has happened with economic rise being related to a relentless imposition of authoritative mode of faith and wiping out of alternatives - even all knowledge and rights thereto - being imprisoned within the authority fences and the duel that therefore necessarily was fought for freedom of thought against the religious authorities. It is forgotten that while this need to fight for the freedom of thought and knowledge might have helped a great deal, the prosperity would be far less if not accompanied by colonial occupation of other continents and usurping of their wealth, whatever the state of the local people and the treatment accorded to them by the colonial usurping occupiers, whether in Australia or across the ocean in American continent or Asia or Africa.
If this is not believable, just think of how life would be in Europe if there were no migration possible to any other continent, if everyone who wished to travel from Europe anywhere had to mortgage a significant part of their properties and undergo humiliating experiences on arrival in the other lands. Without the migration and the loot from other continents, Europe would be very crowded with poor as it was only two centuries ago - in fact, UK sponsored migration to Australia for all her poor just post wwII, officially, just as it was done for a while towards Canada or US prior to the wars so as to free large estates of aristocracy of the poor locals.
Much more to the graphic illustrative point, imagine if Africa owned the diamonds and the firms in Europe and coffee were to be as expensive as diamonds are today to west, while diamonds cost as much as best Champagne (and I mean, Champagne, not sparkling wine from elsewhere) - which might very well happen if local people owned the lands and used it to feed their own, sparing little for export to others for luxuries.
Once a neighbour in Germany had described poverty of East Germany where she visited relatives by relating how they could not afford bananas. I pointed out that first and foremost if the thing does not grow locally it could not be good for health, much less a necessity; as long as they had apples in their back or front yards on trees, they were in good shape for health and food and fruit. Bananas in fact are suitable only for tropical consumption, where they do grow - they are good food for heat of the locales and are cold in effect as food.
But to continue the thread, here is one more - imagine bananas cost more than opium and its byproducts in lands where they do not grow, and coconuts are no less than precious metals by weight. Would that be deprivation, when a product of one's own land gets a mere fraction of that from another? That is what the ex colonial lands (and natives of occupation forgotten lands of Australia and America too) have lived through.
In short, the prosperity of west has just as much to do with the looting via colonial occupations of various lands and migration to the lands taken over for good, as to do with the science versus faith wars Europe had to fight resulting in tremendous growth in science and technology.
Relating this prosperity to the religion of the west is the false assumption inherent in the title. Relating the prosperity to virtue of every kind is the other, deeper false assumption.
Turin Shroud: by Lynn Picknett and Clive Prince.
The famous relic named or known popularly as Turin Shroud is not a relic after all, but a photograph, made during renaissance or thereabouts, using process and chemicals well known since antiquity. This in short is the conclusion of the book, presented with compelling evidence and arguments but very badly written in most part, especially the first few chapters until they go into the personal attacks they had to suffer in the process of working on the research.
This is the book telling about the research, sifting through evidence, experiences of various interactions with diverse people involved in the process, and a conclusion arrived at about the mystery of the Turin Shroud presented with compelling evidence of part of the fact and good arguments but not quite conclusive ones about the identity of the person responsible for the relic or artifact.
The duo went through some horrendous opposition of the sort intended to terrify them into shying away from any conclusion away from the official position that the relic is a true shroud of no one other than the church object of worship, a position not held up by scientific evidence - ironically the carbon dating test was officially supported by church with intention of proving the relic as true, which in fact cannot be done even if the artifact is two millennia old precisely - since the carbon dating proved that it was only about eight or so centuries old, give or take a century or two at most.
Towards the end the writers recount how there was a mysterious fire with equally mysterious hour of delay in calling for firemen post the evidence that not only this is not a true relic but in fact it is a photograph, proven by many recreations of the process involved in what could have been the way it was made during renaissance using a camera obscura, recreations by many persons independent of one another.
The fire might have or might have been intended to damage the artifact so far as to declare it officially destroyed so that no further examination can be made, since such an examination or even a casual viewing might further not only convince the general populace of the fact that it is a photograph but might raise questions about the complicity of the church in producing the forged relic in the first place for the sake of power over people's minds and financial gain in more than one way.
(Monday 22 November 2010)
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If one would like to know about the general history facts and reasoning on the subject, this is not quite the book one should begin with.
One generally picks up a book of this sort for information about what is going on, what is known, and so forth. Opinions and biases of writers are bound to come in, but good writers and thinkers manage to sift through what is known and go with some reasonable logic to their conclusions and manage to present them in their work with some credibility. That last part is somewhat missing or at least garbled in this work.
Less than halfway through one manages to see the pattern that continues consistently - the duo has arrived at some conclusions and are presenting them as fait accompli from almost page one, without going through the process of reason or logic for benefit of the reader. It begins to look like a session of bashing up some other writers and thinkers and more, on the whole, and it is not clear why since the thinking process of this duo is obscure.
Often they object to the thinking or logic or conclusions of others with huge gaps in their own logic for doing so, and it is repeatedly this sort of confusing material that brings one to suspect that the whole idea is to bash up the reader with a great deal of emotionally charged diatribe without much logic until one gives up and agrees with the writers - a typical tool of gossip sessions of afternoon coffee sessions.
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The idea here seems to be that since one cannot pooh pooh scientific evidence that has gone against the faith about the shroud and the identity of the shrouded, then of necessity there must be someone to pay the price, pay for the demolition of faith of millions those that have been following the line set out by Rome, even if the line is general and not specific in this matter.
And who better to pay for it than the most brilliantly intelligent of the geniuses of renaissance, the mysterious artist who also was a scientist and thinker par excellence, of not only his time but amazing even today with his various sketches of inventions of his own, the one recently shot into fame due to a painting and its coded messages, "the" Leonardo Da Vinci?
So here is a book to hit him with accusation of fooling everyone, for which every other possible thesis must be first and foremost discredited if not ridiculed.
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As for the shroud, it remains mysterious to the writers as it is to perhaps everyone else (or we would have had huge headlines about the solution to the puzzle) - how the image formed, how it remained on one side, why it seems to be that of someone crucified but is merely from renaissance according to carbon dating, who could then have done it in what way that is unknown today and cannot be replicated, and more - if it indeed is genuinely from two millenia ago, where was it all this while?
But the last is begging the question in many ways, including the loyalty of church to the actual person (and his relatives) of the worshiped figure on the cross - what with various writings of last quarter of a century and discoveries of church dictating definite versions of the story and wiping out not only other versions but any trace of anyone who could possibly be a clue to the other versions, possibly the real ones at that, it is more than possible that such possessions had to be in hiding.
For instance many of faith find it troubling to read Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code - and this is silly, since the only thing that DVC demolishes is the official version of the story, not the question of divinity. But the official version has been forced with burning alive of people daring to think independently and during centuries before Science established her reign as the alternative alter for intellectuals of west, and this divide has created havoc. Persecution of Galileo and others did not help.
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Even if the shroud were to be proven scientifically to be two thousand years old this does not prove whose it was, to begin with, since the crucifixion was not limited to one person but quite commonly used to punish all sorts of those that went against the occupation of the land by Rome. The shroud if it is two millennia old still could be anybody's, logically and scientifically speaking, unless there is more proof of the identity of the shrouded.
Such identity could come from DNA, in two ways - one, with living relatives, and second, with a known grave and body therein. Even this might be not conclusive enough evidence, the second that is, since such a tomb and grave ought to be known for all this time and not suddenly discovered now or disclosed without overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Living relatives, for which there is such overwhelming evidence pointed at although not conclusively established, what with the various persecutions through centuries by church and yet the new discoveries of various manuscripts in places unsuspected when they could and would have been destroyed, is another matter.
Quite possibly there are living relatives in spite of the persecution through centuries including holocaust and pogroms and general hounding of his people - for that precisely is what Jews are after all, his people and possibly descendants of relatives - but such a discovery and establishing of such a fact would be threatening to church and power of church just as much today as it has been since the crucifixion; so it is highly unlikely such evidence would come forth.
And so there goes any possibility of establishing the shroud through DNA even if carbon dating were to either confirm age of the shroud or to be bypassed for some convincing reason.
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Really, though - why this obsession with scientific proof of something that is clearly a matter of faith, of spiritual realm?
To begin with science has demolished the possibility of shroud being two thousand years old with carbon dating - but even if another one of the right age were to be found, so what? It could be of anyone crucified, of which there were plenty.
On the other hand the formation of the image seems to baffle science, but quite likely there were processes then known - possibly even today known except in west where inquisition wiped out knowledge - that might form such image either due to shroud being real or with some other process. The writers here go on (and on and on) discrediting any such thought, but really all that comes to is that they are discrediting it and something else still might be out there, not widely known yet, which is what the solution to the puzzle is. (Ok, so it is not oil and myrrah, how about this other spice?)
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And most of all - why does faith need scientific proof?
If the shroud - this shroud, or any other so declared - is not real, so what? If the resurrection was a story made up later, so what? If he were really married as a young male from a respectable family then ought to have been, and fathered a respectable number of progeny - so what? If there is divinity in someone, and it is innate rather than a human achievement, why should it be wiped out with something so natural to all life?
An artist, a scientist, a person of tremendous achievement in one or more realms can very well have a normal - or at least relatively normal - family life; and so could one with a spiritual facet. Why is it necessary for humans to determine that a divine being could not just as well do so?
.............................................................
There is of course another possibility - that crucifixions went on during inquisition, destroying any evidence of any sort that might threaten the power of church by methods other than burning people in public. The shroud might be real, and belong to another age, whether to a divine being or a mere human.
And then there is the widely known factor of the legend about his having traveled to India twice - one, his missing years between boyhood and sudden appearance shortly before crucifixion; second, post crucifixion, when he vanished - and there is the Himaalyan village that claims to have known, always, that he arrived and lived there, and there is the grave there that they claim to have known was his, known all these centuries.
............................................
Faith ought not to cling to scientific proof of something material, or possibility that someone after all did have children.
Spiritual realm is not enclosed in faith, whether it be blind faith dictated by some authority with power or faith given some crutches with a story and some relics.
Science has to do with an intellectual working out, of reality - and spiritual can only be higher, more inclusive of possibilities, than intellectual.
Faith is only one factor of spiritual realm, and not necessarily something to need crutches for.
(Wednesday, October 6, 2010)
This is the book telling about the research, sifting through evidence, experiences of various interactions with diverse people involved in the process, and a conclusion arrived at about the mystery of the Turin Shroud presented with compelling evidence of part of the fact and good arguments but not quite conclusive ones about the identity of the person responsible for the relic or artifact.
The duo went through some horrendous opposition of the sort intended to terrify them into shying away from any conclusion away from the official position that the relic is a true shroud of no one other than the church object of worship, a position not held up by scientific evidence - ironically the carbon dating test was officially supported by church with intention of proving the relic as true, which in fact cannot be done even if the artifact is two millennia old precisely - since the carbon dating proved that it was only about eight or so centuries old, give or take a century or two at most.
Towards the end the writers recount how there was a mysterious fire with equally mysterious hour of delay in calling for firemen post the evidence that not only this is not a true relic but in fact it is a photograph, proven by many recreations of the process involved in what could have been the way it was made during renaissance using a camera obscura, recreations by many persons independent of one another.
The fire might have or might have been intended to damage the artifact so far as to declare it officially destroyed so that no further examination can be made, since such an examination or even a casual viewing might further not only convince the general populace of the fact that it is a photograph but might raise questions about the complicity of the church in producing the forged relic in the first place for the sake of power over people's minds and financial gain in more than one way.
(Monday 22 November 2010)
.........................................
If one would like to know about the general history facts and reasoning on the subject, this is not quite the book one should begin with.
One generally picks up a book of this sort for information about what is going on, what is known, and so forth. Opinions and biases of writers are bound to come in, but good writers and thinkers manage to sift through what is known and go with some reasonable logic to their conclusions and manage to present them in their work with some credibility. That last part is somewhat missing or at least garbled in this work.
Less than halfway through one manages to see the pattern that continues consistently - the duo has arrived at some conclusions and are presenting them as fait accompli from almost page one, without going through the process of reason or logic for benefit of the reader. It begins to look like a session of bashing up some other writers and thinkers and more, on the whole, and it is not clear why since the thinking process of this duo is obscure.
Often they object to the thinking or logic or conclusions of others with huge gaps in their own logic for doing so, and it is repeatedly this sort of confusing material that brings one to suspect that the whole idea is to bash up the reader with a great deal of emotionally charged diatribe without much logic until one gives up and agrees with the writers - a typical tool of gossip sessions of afternoon coffee sessions.
.............................................
The idea here seems to be that since one cannot pooh pooh scientific evidence that has gone against the faith about the shroud and the identity of the shrouded, then of necessity there must be someone to pay the price, pay for the demolition of faith of millions those that have been following the line set out by Rome, even if the line is general and not specific in this matter.
And who better to pay for it than the most brilliantly intelligent of the geniuses of renaissance, the mysterious artist who also was a scientist and thinker par excellence, of not only his time but amazing even today with his various sketches of inventions of his own, the one recently shot into fame due to a painting and its coded messages, "the" Leonardo Da Vinci?
So here is a book to hit him with accusation of fooling everyone, for which every other possible thesis must be first and foremost discredited if not ridiculed.
...............................................................
As for the shroud, it remains mysterious to the writers as it is to perhaps everyone else (or we would have had huge headlines about the solution to the puzzle) - how the image formed, how it remained on one side, why it seems to be that of someone crucified but is merely from renaissance according to carbon dating, who could then have done it in what way that is unknown today and cannot be replicated, and more - if it indeed is genuinely from two millenia ago, where was it all this while?
But the last is begging the question in many ways, including the loyalty of church to the actual person (and his relatives) of the worshiped figure on the cross - what with various writings of last quarter of a century and discoveries of church dictating definite versions of the story and wiping out not only other versions but any trace of anyone who could possibly be a clue to the other versions, possibly the real ones at that, it is more than possible that such possessions had to be in hiding.
For instance many of faith find it troubling to read Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code - and this is silly, since the only thing that DVC demolishes is the official version of the story, not the question of divinity. But the official version has been forced with burning alive of people daring to think independently and during centuries before Science established her reign as the alternative alter for intellectuals of west, and this divide has created havoc. Persecution of Galileo and others did not help.
..............................................
Even if the shroud were to be proven scientifically to be two thousand years old this does not prove whose it was, to begin with, since the crucifixion was not limited to one person but quite commonly used to punish all sorts of those that went against the occupation of the land by Rome. The shroud if it is two millennia old still could be anybody's, logically and scientifically speaking, unless there is more proof of the identity of the shrouded.
Such identity could come from DNA, in two ways - one, with living relatives, and second, with a known grave and body therein. Even this might be not conclusive enough evidence, the second that is, since such a tomb and grave ought to be known for all this time and not suddenly discovered now or disclosed without overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Living relatives, for which there is such overwhelming evidence pointed at although not conclusively established, what with the various persecutions through centuries by church and yet the new discoveries of various manuscripts in places unsuspected when they could and would have been destroyed, is another matter.
Quite possibly there are living relatives in spite of the persecution through centuries including holocaust and pogroms and general hounding of his people - for that precisely is what Jews are after all, his people and possibly descendants of relatives - but such a discovery and establishing of such a fact would be threatening to church and power of church just as much today as it has been since the crucifixion; so it is highly unlikely such evidence would come forth.
And so there goes any possibility of establishing the shroud through DNA even if carbon dating were to either confirm age of the shroud or to be bypassed for some convincing reason.
..................................................
Really, though - why this obsession with scientific proof of something that is clearly a matter of faith, of spiritual realm?
To begin with science has demolished the possibility of shroud being two thousand years old with carbon dating - but even if another one of the right age were to be found, so what? It could be of anyone crucified, of which there were plenty.
On the other hand the formation of the image seems to baffle science, but quite likely there were processes then known - possibly even today known except in west where inquisition wiped out knowledge - that might form such image either due to shroud being real or with some other process. The writers here go on (and on and on) discrediting any such thought, but really all that comes to is that they are discrediting it and something else still might be out there, not widely known yet, which is what the solution to the puzzle is. (Ok, so it is not oil and myrrah, how about this other spice?)
....................................................
And most of all - why does faith need scientific proof?
If the shroud - this shroud, or any other so declared - is not real, so what? If the resurrection was a story made up later, so what? If he were really married as a young male from a respectable family then ought to have been, and fathered a respectable number of progeny - so what? If there is divinity in someone, and it is innate rather than a human achievement, why should it be wiped out with something so natural to all life?
An artist, a scientist, a person of tremendous achievement in one or more realms can very well have a normal - or at least relatively normal - family life; and so could one with a spiritual facet. Why is it necessary for humans to determine that a divine being could not just as well do so?
.............................................................
There is of course another possibility - that crucifixions went on during inquisition, destroying any evidence of any sort that might threaten the power of church by methods other than burning people in public. The shroud might be real, and belong to another age, whether to a divine being or a mere human.
And then there is the widely known factor of the legend about his having traveled to India twice - one, his missing years between boyhood and sudden appearance shortly before crucifixion; second, post crucifixion, when he vanished - and there is the Himaalyan village that claims to have known, always, that he arrived and lived there, and there is the grave there that they claim to have known was his, known all these centuries.
............................................
Faith ought not to cling to scientific proof of something material, or possibility that someone after all did have children.
Spiritual realm is not enclosed in faith, whether it be blind faith dictated by some authority with power or faith given some crutches with a story and some relics.
Science has to do with an intellectual working out, of reality - and spiritual can only be higher, more inclusive of possibilities, than intellectual.
Faith is only one factor of spiritual realm, and not necessarily something to need crutches for.
(Wednesday, October 6, 2010)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The General's Daughter: by Nelson Demille.
No matter how much she achieves, she could never achieve one thing she desperately needed as a child, her father's approval and love. He is a high profile general and a selfish man in that his career, his standards, his name is everything. Perhaps a male heir would beat him at his own game, perhaps not, who knows! But a daughter has no chance whatsoever no matter how high an achiever in his own field, because she has other needs too, of love and admiration, and if she does not get them from him she could only go frigid and die within or do something that would inevitably blot the father's escutcheon, since respectable ways of a happy life with love do not match requirements of a life with high achieving career if you are a woman, not in west, certainly not in military.
So when she is dead in a position incompatible with her father's position, he must order an inquiry but makes his requirements clear, hush. And the setup of the inquiry is as suitable for the purpose, or so those that arranged it think.
Only, those that are given the job have more of a conscience and integrity. They will go to the end to discover truth, and will not hush it up. And truth is, however much others in the base hated her or whatever, for whatever reason, it is her own father that is responsible for her murder, in a more literal way than the slow torture of her life from childhood on.
.............................................
All that assuming the general is well meaning and honest, sincere at all times. But that is an assumption demolished cruelly for the daughter in her hour of most need of a father, when he turns out to be not merely less of a father than a marionette to be commanded by his paymasters, but far worse - he takes orders to hush her up, have no inquiry to ascertain who were participants in the gang rape she suffered from her own colleagues - which in US military happens often enough in individual setting for most women in military, but with just as little redress - but tells her to forget it ever happened and assures her it is for the best. How would he know any better? Women usually do not rape men, much less gang rape with all the repercussions involved, being made feel like trash being only one, and open laughter amongst colleagues around her for another.
Only, if he were a father - which he biologically was but never grew up enough to be, perhaps not even as much a human as a machine aiming at one thing, his own career - he ought to have known, and more. He ought to have felt all her pain and humiliation and outrage, and ought to have moved heaven and earth and hell too if necessary to get justice for her and punishment for the miscreants, beasts that raped her, only for being superior to all her colleagues. If he were human, if he were grown up enough to be a father more than in biological terms.
He however was far more concerned about his own career, although the issue was dressed up in terms he and others could dress up suitably so as to not seem like he exchanged his daughter's life for his own medals - interests of nation, military, future of women in military, whatever blah would sound right.
Only, this veil of secrecy, pretense of nothing happened, forgetting, did not save future for women in US military - on the contrary.
It was a subterfuge everyone could clearly see through, and from that day one it was not only his own daughter that was presented to all males who could and wished to rape her - it was any and every woman, in military or otherwise. For sake of medals for him and anonymity of rapists heart's desire, all women of world were officially sacrificed to the base ignoble males of military of US and elsewhere. It was regression at its worst.
And the daughter's sense of justice would not give up, either, just as much as her heart bleeding tears of blood for the father she had needed in her most dire moment continued to force him to look at her, to acknowledge it did happen.
...............................................................
Fortunately for her the investigating team did hear her - after her death. And they chose not to overlook and pretend and forget.
In this perhaps she was luckier than most women of the world, and not because she was the general's daughter.
So when she is dead in a position incompatible with her father's position, he must order an inquiry but makes his requirements clear, hush. And the setup of the inquiry is as suitable for the purpose, or so those that arranged it think.
Only, those that are given the job have more of a conscience and integrity. They will go to the end to discover truth, and will not hush it up. And truth is, however much others in the base hated her or whatever, for whatever reason, it is her own father that is responsible for her murder, in a more literal way than the slow torture of her life from childhood on.
.............................................
All that assuming the general is well meaning and honest, sincere at all times. But that is an assumption demolished cruelly for the daughter in her hour of most need of a father, when he turns out to be not merely less of a father than a marionette to be commanded by his paymasters, but far worse - he takes orders to hush her up, have no inquiry to ascertain who were participants in the gang rape she suffered from her own colleagues - which in US military happens often enough in individual setting for most women in military, but with just as little redress - but tells her to forget it ever happened and assures her it is for the best. How would he know any better? Women usually do not rape men, much less gang rape with all the repercussions involved, being made feel like trash being only one, and open laughter amongst colleagues around her for another.
Only, if he were a father - which he biologically was but never grew up enough to be, perhaps not even as much a human as a machine aiming at one thing, his own career - he ought to have known, and more. He ought to have felt all her pain and humiliation and outrage, and ought to have moved heaven and earth and hell too if necessary to get justice for her and punishment for the miscreants, beasts that raped her, only for being superior to all her colleagues. If he were human, if he were grown up enough to be a father more than in biological terms.
He however was far more concerned about his own career, although the issue was dressed up in terms he and others could dress up suitably so as to not seem like he exchanged his daughter's life for his own medals - interests of nation, military, future of women in military, whatever blah would sound right.
Only, this veil of secrecy, pretense of nothing happened, forgetting, did not save future for women in US military - on the contrary.
It was a subterfuge everyone could clearly see through, and from that day one it was not only his own daughter that was presented to all males who could and wished to rape her - it was any and every woman, in military or otherwise. For sake of medals for him and anonymity of rapists heart's desire, all women of world were officially sacrificed to the base ignoble males of military of US and elsewhere. It was regression at its worst.
And the daughter's sense of justice would not give up, either, just as much as her heart bleeding tears of blood for the father she had needed in her most dire moment continued to force him to look at her, to acknowledge it did happen.
...............................................................
Fortunately for her the investigating team did hear her - after her death. And they chose not to overlook and pretend and forget.
In this perhaps she was luckier than most women of the world, and not because she was the general's daughter.
The Letter And Other Stories: by W. Somerset Maugham.
Stories of Maugham are favourite for their wry wit along with a fresh look a tlife and virtues, or at least those of the virtues that often cause mayhem in lives and society, and more. He writes without blinkers about most affairs of any sort, be they of social or of hearts or of colonial empire.
His stories of south seas in particular deal with the colonial empire and its men and women, thrown in situations away from home and dealing with them in ways perhaps they would not at home due to social considerations - although that can at best be a guess - and hence a portrayal of human mind, heart and behaviour at its more original picture, of how people deal with life left to their own resources.
.................................................
The Letter:-
A murder of a paramour that happened in a moment of rage following frustration of losing the lover, gone wrong due to his having left a letter with his preferred mistress, who extorts the full value, which results in the husband coming to realise the wife was not an innocent pure woman assaulted by the loose character after all. They won't separate, not legally anyway, but their marriage and life together is now only a show for social reasons.
...................................................
His stories of south seas in particular deal with the colonial empire and its men and women, thrown in situations away from home and dealing with them in ways perhaps they would not at home due to social considerations - although that can at best be a guess - and hence a portrayal of human mind, heart and behaviour at its more original picture, of how people deal with life left to their own resources.
.................................................
The Letter:-
A murder of a paramour that happened in a moment of rage following frustration of losing the lover, gone wrong due to his having left a letter with his preferred mistress, who extorts the full value, which results in the husband coming to realise the wife was not an innocent pure woman assaulted by the loose character after all. They won't separate, not legally anyway, but their marriage and life together is now only a show for social reasons.
...................................................
The Complete Short Stories Of W. Somerset Maugham: by W. Somerset Maugham (Of course! who else!)
So many favourites in this - most people like Rain more than any other, at any rate it is the most discussed one. My personal favourite however is Virtue, an unforgettable one.
There are many, many others of course - Round Dozen for one, with amusing details of a much married man aggrieved by one of his wives turning him in.
Then there is the heartbreaking one of love and loss that I can't think of the name and it is a rare one for lack of cynical or otherwise bringing the reader down to earth sort of twist.
There is Letter with its murder of a paramour gone wrong due to his having left a letter with his mistress who extorts the full value,
There is the story about a widow who married a friend of her murdered husband and the daughter who looks like the second husband.
And there is another one with the Italian husband murdering his own father on suspicion of an affair between his father and his wife.
And all these are only what I can recall off hand after three decades or so.
I suppose the one of love and death with grief and heartbreak remains close to heart, along with Virtue that remains close to conviction, with total agreement with the protagonist by the time the story is over.
I wish I could remember if the story about the expensive wife becoming beautiful is here, or it is by another writer.
.................................................................................
The Round Dozen:-
About a much marrying man who was much aggrieved and felt a genuine sense of injury and grievance when one of his wives informed the law - not particularly handsome or accomplished in any way whatsoever, middle aged and lower class and not educated nor sophisticated nor well to do, he had nevertheless developed a talent for marrying successfully by his own definition. He found lonely older women of certain financial independence at holiday places and paid them attention, and post marriage gave them a good time until their money ran out. Then it was time to move on. To his chagrin, there was a small matter of having married only eleven times. Most of his wives were in fact willing to take him back.
After his leaving prison, the protagonist received a post card from him one day, and understood he had made his round dozen to his satisfaction after all.
.....................................................................................
Rain:-
This must have been terribly shocking to the hypocritical and pious while being nothing new to those without blinkers, when published first - 20th century was nothing if not one that shredded many such veils of pretension from established societies of west.
The story takes place on a voyage in Pacific where a woman of certain profession is having fun along with a few of males around - after all being alone most of their lives far away from home was tough on the guys, and an accommodating woman who was not merely paid goods but one with some spirit, some heart and joy, was a blessing.
Unfortunately for them there is not merely a usual contingent of the disapproving couples and other respectable members of society but also a preacher very sure and proud of himself, who goes after the woman with denunciation and promised hell fire to all that would consort with her. She is brought to abject surrender and is entirely dependent on him subsequently in her submission to a pious life henceforth. And the preacher is willing to sacrifice himself, to go to her at any hour of day or night she might need him, as his wife very proudly testifies to his selfless sacrifice of his own comforts.
The preacher meanwhile has dreams of hills of Nebraska (having read it so long ago I could be wrong about the name of the particular state) - and then one day the preacher is found dead, having committed suicide, while there is sound of phonograph and laughter and dancing from the room of the woman who was trying to reform, and a note of bitter victory.
She was sincere in her repentance and her attempt to reform, but the high minded preacher all too fallible and unaware of his own Achilles's heel shared with all life, if not more than a little hypocritical in his imposition of his will and his standards of virtue on all and sundry.
..............................................................
Virtue:-
We are begun on a gentle note with the story of a forty odd year old man, caustic and yet much loved but admittedly difficult, finding love and being completely smitten with his wife he considers himself fortunate to marry - he is the same man but now happy and his acerbic nature is taken now as wit due to his basking in his wife's love, a much loved woman in society, and their insistence on being put up together when invited is an amusing embarrassment for hostesses who lack room and are used to couples wishing to be put up rather apart.
And then there is an acquaintance of the writer (protagonist really, except one tends to assume he is the writer) from colonies in Malaya, a young man who needs to have some company and is introduced to the couple. Some time later, the couple is separated, and the wife is adamant in not returning to the husband, and he commits suicide.
The protagonist is called to interpret a letter from the young man in Malaya who has now returned, and informed that he is responsible for the love that the young man and the not so young wife (now widow) fell into since he introduced them. The letter is cautious and sympathetic about her loss but equivocal about her prospects of being able to come to Malaya to marry him.
The hostess, a friend of the protagonist makes the observation that it is up to him to make the young man realise his responsibility having gone into the love affair and caused the separation, which is when it becomes clear that the wife in love with another man had never crossed her limits being a virtuous woman.
"Virtue be damned" informs her the protagonist, since it had caused so much grief and a death of a loving husband - if only the wife had quietly had had her affair and finished it the man would still be alive.
And while to some pompous hypocrites it would be an opportunity to gasp and act shocked, today the reality of that statement is only too obvious, what with "the lack of commitment" of males being so huge a problem in US.
..........................................................
There are many, many others of course - Round Dozen for one, with amusing details of a much married man aggrieved by one of his wives turning him in.
Then there is the heartbreaking one of love and loss that I can't think of the name and it is a rare one for lack of cynical or otherwise bringing the reader down to earth sort of twist.
There is Letter with its murder of a paramour gone wrong due to his having left a letter with his mistress who extorts the full value,
There is the story about a widow who married a friend of her murdered husband and the daughter who looks like the second husband.
And there is another one with the Italian husband murdering his own father on suspicion of an affair between his father and his wife.
And all these are only what I can recall off hand after three decades or so.
I suppose the one of love and death with grief and heartbreak remains close to heart, along with Virtue that remains close to conviction, with total agreement with the protagonist by the time the story is over.
I wish I could remember if the story about the expensive wife becoming beautiful is here, or it is by another writer.
.................................................................................
The Round Dozen:-
About a much marrying man who was much aggrieved and felt a genuine sense of injury and grievance when one of his wives informed the law - not particularly handsome or accomplished in any way whatsoever, middle aged and lower class and not educated nor sophisticated nor well to do, he had nevertheless developed a talent for marrying successfully by his own definition. He found lonely older women of certain financial independence at holiday places and paid them attention, and post marriage gave them a good time until their money ran out. Then it was time to move on. To his chagrin, there was a small matter of having married only eleven times. Most of his wives were in fact willing to take him back.
After his leaving prison, the protagonist received a post card from him one day, and understood he had made his round dozen to his satisfaction after all.
.....................................................................................
Rain:-
This must have been terribly shocking to the hypocritical and pious while being nothing new to those without blinkers, when published first - 20th century was nothing if not one that shredded many such veils of pretension from established societies of west.
The story takes place on a voyage in Pacific where a woman of certain profession is having fun along with a few of males around - after all being alone most of their lives far away from home was tough on the guys, and an accommodating woman who was not merely paid goods but one with some spirit, some heart and joy, was a blessing.
Unfortunately for them there is not merely a usual contingent of the disapproving couples and other respectable members of society but also a preacher very sure and proud of himself, who goes after the woman with denunciation and promised hell fire to all that would consort with her. She is brought to abject surrender and is entirely dependent on him subsequently in her submission to a pious life henceforth. And the preacher is willing to sacrifice himself, to go to her at any hour of day or night she might need him, as his wife very proudly testifies to his selfless sacrifice of his own comforts.
The preacher meanwhile has dreams of hills of Nebraska (having read it so long ago I could be wrong about the name of the particular state) - and then one day the preacher is found dead, having committed suicide, while there is sound of phonograph and laughter and dancing from the room of the woman who was trying to reform, and a note of bitter victory.
She was sincere in her repentance and her attempt to reform, but the high minded preacher all too fallible and unaware of his own Achilles's heel shared with all life, if not more than a little hypocritical in his imposition of his will and his standards of virtue on all and sundry.
..............................................................
Virtue:-
We are begun on a gentle note with the story of a forty odd year old man, caustic and yet much loved but admittedly difficult, finding love and being completely smitten with his wife he considers himself fortunate to marry - he is the same man but now happy and his acerbic nature is taken now as wit due to his basking in his wife's love, a much loved woman in society, and their insistence on being put up together when invited is an amusing embarrassment for hostesses who lack room and are used to couples wishing to be put up rather apart.
And then there is an acquaintance of the writer (protagonist really, except one tends to assume he is the writer) from colonies in Malaya, a young man who needs to have some company and is introduced to the couple. Some time later, the couple is separated, and the wife is adamant in not returning to the husband, and he commits suicide.
The protagonist is called to interpret a letter from the young man in Malaya who has now returned, and informed that he is responsible for the love that the young man and the not so young wife (now widow) fell into since he introduced them. The letter is cautious and sympathetic about her loss but equivocal about her prospects of being able to come to Malaya to marry him.
The hostess, a friend of the protagonist makes the observation that it is up to him to make the young man realise his responsibility having gone into the love affair and caused the separation, which is when it becomes clear that the wife in love with another man had never crossed her limits being a virtuous woman.
"Virtue be damned" informs her the protagonist, since it had caused so much grief and a death of a loving husband - if only the wife had quietly had had her affair and finished it the man would still be alive.
And while to some pompous hypocrites it would be an opportunity to gasp and act shocked, today the reality of that statement is only too obvious, what with "the lack of commitment" of males being so huge a problem in US.
..........................................................
Rain and Other South Seas Stories: by William Somerset Maugham.
Rain:-
This must have been terribly shocking to the hypocritical and pious while being nothing new to those without blinkers, when published first - 20th century was nothing if not one that shredded many such veils of pretension from established societies of west.
The story takes place on a voyage in Pacific where a woman of certain profession is having fun along with a few of males around - after all being alone most of their lives far away from home was tough on the guys, and an accommodating woman who was not merely paid goods but one with some spirit, some heart and joy, was a blessing.
Unfortunately for them there is not merely a usual contingent of the disapproving couples and other respectable members of society but also a preacher very sure and proud of himself, who goes after the woman with denunciation and promised hell fire to all that would consort with her. She is brought to abject surrender and is entirely dependent on him subsequently in her submission to a pious life henceforth. And the preacher is willing to sacrifice himself, to go to her at any hour of day or night she might need him, as his wife very proudly testifies to his selfless sacrifice of his own comforts.
The preacher meanwhile has dreams of hills of Nebraska (having read it so long ago I could be wrong about the name of the particular state) - and then one day the preacher is found dead, having committed suicide, while there is sound of phonograph and laughter and dancing from the room of the woman who was trying to reform, and a note of bitter victory.
She was sincere in her repentance and her attempt to reform, but the high minded preacher all too fallible and unaware of his own Achilles's heel shared with all life, if not more than a little hypocritical in his imposition of his will and his standards of virtue on all and sundry.
..............................................................
Pool:-
About a young and self assured woman who bathed in the pool in the forest - and the story around that enchanting scenario.
.................................................................
MacIntosh:-
The elder man was the sort who would dress for dinner, in heat of Malaya, every single day - for years and decades that he spent alone in his bungalow on the plantation. The younger one is not quite from the same class, and is disapproved of by the elder. It takes time for him - the younger one - to realise it is not all about class and money, and that values imparted by upbringing is a vital part of it.
While not every upper class person brought up in cushy circumstances does always behave appropriately, the story is about values, essentially.
..................................................
This must have been terribly shocking to the hypocritical and pious while being nothing new to those without blinkers, when published first - 20th century was nothing if not one that shredded many such veils of pretension from established societies of west.
The story takes place on a voyage in Pacific where a woman of certain profession is having fun along with a few of males around - after all being alone most of their lives far away from home was tough on the guys, and an accommodating woman who was not merely paid goods but one with some spirit, some heart and joy, was a blessing.
Unfortunately for them there is not merely a usual contingent of the disapproving couples and other respectable members of society but also a preacher very sure and proud of himself, who goes after the woman with denunciation and promised hell fire to all that would consort with her. She is brought to abject surrender and is entirely dependent on him subsequently in her submission to a pious life henceforth. And the preacher is willing to sacrifice himself, to go to her at any hour of day or night she might need him, as his wife very proudly testifies to his selfless sacrifice of his own comforts.
The preacher meanwhile has dreams of hills of Nebraska (having read it so long ago I could be wrong about the name of the particular state) - and then one day the preacher is found dead, having committed suicide, while there is sound of phonograph and laughter and dancing from the room of the woman who was trying to reform, and a note of bitter victory.
She was sincere in her repentance and her attempt to reform, but the high minded preacher all too fallible and unaware of his own Achilles's heel shared with all life, if not more than a little hypocritical in his imposition of his will and his standards of virtue on all and sundry.
..............................................................
Pool:-
About a young and self assured woman who bathed in the pool in the forest - and the story around that enchanting scenario.
.................................................................
MacIntosh:-
The elder man was the sort who would dress for dinner, in heat of Malaya, every single day - for years and decades that he spent alone in his bungalow on the plantation. The younger one is not quite from the same class, and is disapproved of by the elder. It takes time for him - the younger one - to realise it is not all about class and money, and that values imparted by upbringing is a vital part of it.
While not every upper class person brought up in cushy circumstances does always behave appropriately, the story is about values, essentially.
..................................................
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Moon And Sixpence: by W. Somerset Maugham.
About Gaugin.
(12092008)
Unlike his other contemporaries Gauguin was not young when he took to painting but middle aged, with a family that he abandoned for the purpose of being free to paint. From there to his life in South Pacific islands where he spent his last years and did some of his most astounding paintings, his life story is the base of this book.
(13092010)
The story by Maugham goes into a crescendo after the artist leaves for Pacific islands, and the last part where the protagonist sees the ultimate artistic achievement of the artist in his final abode is unforgettable, with his realisation that those final works of the artist are neither possible to transport to elsewhere where they would create sensation and fetch tremendous price, nor would it be appropriate for the simple reason that they belong where they are, where they stem from and live, are a part of the life the artist found - and that he did this, intentionally, having realised as much, paying his tribute to to place where he found the greatest expression of his talent possible due to the place so full of life and peace.
Looking at some of the works of Gauguin after reading this brings one shivers, not in the smallest part due to the sheer beauty and life of the work.
(22092010)
(12092008)
Unlike his other contemporaries Gauguin was not young when he took to painting but middle aged, with a family that he abandoned for the purpose of being free to paint. From there to his life in South Pacific islands where he spent his last years and did some of his most astounding paintings, his life story is the base of this book.
(13092010)
The story by Maugham goes into a crescendo after the artist leaves for Pacific islands, and the last part where the protagonist sees the ultimate artistic achievement of the artist in his final abode is unforgettable, with his realisation that those final works of the artist are neither possible to transport to elsewhere where they would create sensation and fetch tremendous price, nor would it be appropriate for the simple reason that they belong where they are, where they stem from and live, are a part of the life the artist found - and that he did this, intentionally, having realised as much, paying his tribute to to place where he found the greatest expression of his talent possible due to the place so full of life and peace.
Looking at some of the works of Gauguin after reading this brings one shivers, not in the smallest part due to the sheer beauty and life of the work.
(22092010)
Of Human Bondage: by W. Somerset Maugham.
Love is not always sweet or fun, if it is indeed love, and not a pleasant social connection one has cranked up into thinking of as love so one might feel proper about going ahead into intimacy or marriage. Love can be heart wrenching and painful, and one can be helpless in love with someone one might not approve of, someone who despises one in spite of the lover's superiority and the inferiority of the object of love. Life and love do not follow convenient patterns of paths to happiness, one has to hack out one's path and climb up with difficulty.
This is somewhat a sense of what Maugham describes far more beautifully.
This is somewhat a sense of what Maugham describes far more beautifully.
Theatre: by W. Somerset Maugham.
Long ago, someone well rounded in education and interest in much of arts and other spheres, had once said reflectively, that of all the fine arts painting was comparatively most suitable for someone not interested in (or unable to) sell oneself; any performance art in giving one any success does take into account one's own looks, and while one might be extremely accomplished, if the audience does not like to see one that is the end of it, while anyone with good looks has his or her - especially her - talents ignored or disparaged by those that envy and therefore pretend to disparage beauty.
This is all the more so when age comes in, and even more for any woman, in most performing arts. As it is women in any field whatsoever, nowadays even in marriages in lands where divorces are easy and an everyday reality, tend to lose whatever interest their talent had generated and whatever level of respect they had earned due to their achievements, with age. Most judges are male or young, and respect for age, experience and wisdom is gone down during last century while the only criteria for respect seem to be looks apart from power of money or sheer physical power to hurt the other. Since women rarely are geared toward acquiring one, tend to lose if any of the other, and are seen merely as old even when extremely beautiful, age is seen as a tragedy without solution for women on the whole, with no roles and no regard for anyone over reproductive youth.
Today moreover arts are marketed through other media than personal viewing, and the only winner in this respect is music where it is no longer quite entirely a performing art, what with radio, recording and distribution of recorded music having made watching and listening in person more a luxury post success rather than a necessity before success.
But arts like dance and even acting do depend on looks, and it gets worse with age. Unless one has another sort of clout such as an underworld don approving of one and issuing orders to the contrary an actress or a dancer is pushed aside with age, and the bar is lowered all the time. In this respect thirty is the new eighty. Dance does give a performer another window in starting a school and training others, and thus imparting the skills perfected with age. Acting merely pushes an aged actress to do elderly roles and the bar is lowered on that where an actress playing a mother might in fact even be younger than her screen "son" in real life.
...............................................................
Maugham writes in this book about matters as they were in his time, a century ago. An actress with beauty and accomplishments and consequent fame, with a handsome theatre producer and director for a husband and a perfect son with a perfect life, and wonderful career due to very adoring audiences and long fame well into her forties, might in privacy realise she was not that young and be anxious about losing her youth, her popularity, her fame, her career, while it is still going strong and she is not yet history. And when an opportunity arrives to regain her youth in spirit - perhaps even in fact as a result of the affair - she takes it, and blooms with a return of youth and beauty. This is a story of such an affair and twists and turns.
Julia has more than one adoring fan, and a long standing friend who has always waited on side with proposals over the years and has comfortably settled into a companionship of dinners and other harmless activities together, giving her a glow of not only a perfect home life but also being desired and seen publicly to be so desired.
Now, at a moment of age creeping in, with producers etcetera looking at other - younger and newly established - actresses for the younger roles such as Juliet while making it clear she is intended to play Juliet's mother, she notices a very young man paying her attention, and in a moment of despondence with the loss of her popularity looming on horizon condescends to visit him in his lower middle class bachelor digs. It is as unexpected to her as to the reader when he makes advances without preamble or professing love and she - taken aback at this affront - ends up having sex for sheer lack of protest or defence.
She is surprised, pleased at this proof of her still being attractive, and this continues until she finds him in bed with another, new and very young aspiring actress. He in fact asks her to help the new woman, unaware of her having found about the affair. And he is sullen when confronted with the relationship.
Julia is in a quandary - if she says no, she might not only lose face in being seen as spiteful older woman but in fact might lose it all if the young man blabs about his having had sex with the older woman and her being interested while his dalliance was not serious. If she does help the younger woman, this is a sure step to her being sided to oblivion.
How she deals with this, and to the surprise of reader succeeds completely, having made fools of everyone concerned and regained her supremacy in her position as the reigning diva, is the story told delightfully by Maugham as usual.
Her art, her mastery of her art of acting, is half the reason for her being able to turn the tables and not only keep but regain all that is hers, to keep or discard as she would choose. Her sharp mind and connecting with her son is another factor, while her friend and his support being now discovered for its truth is yet another side story in this to bring a smile to the reader.
Entirely delightful.
This is all the more so when age comes in, and even more for any woman, in most performing arts. As it is women in any field whatsoever, nowadays even in marriages in lands where divorces are easy and an everyday reality, tend to lose whatever interest their talent had generated and whatever level of respect they had earned due to their achievements, with age. Most judges are male or young, and respect for age, experience and wisdom is gone down during last century while the only criteria for respect seem to be looks apart from power of money or sheer physical power to hurt the other. Since women rarely are geared toward acquiring one, tend to lose if any of the other, and are seen merely as old even when extremely beautiful, age is seen as a tragedy without solution for women on the whole, with no roles and no regard for anyone over reproductive youth.
Today moreover arts are marketed through other media than personal viewing, and the only winner in this respect is music where it is no longer quite entirely a performing art, what with radio, recording and distribution of recorded music having made watching and listening in person more a luxury post success rather than a necessity before success.
But arts like dance and even acting do depend on looks, and it gets worse with age. Unless one has another sort of clout such as an underworld don approving of one and issuing orders to the contrary an actress or a dancer is pushed aside with age, and the bar is lowered all the time. In this respect thirty is the new eighty. Dance does give a performer another window in starting a school and training others, and thus imparting the skills perfected with age. Acting merely pushes an aged actress to do elderly roles and the bar is lowered on that where an actress playing a mother might in fact even be younger than her screen "son" in real life.
...............................................................
Maugham writes in this book about matters as they were in his time, a century ago. An actress with beauty and accomplishments and consequent fame, with a handsome theatre producer and director for a husband and a perfect son with a perfect life, and wonderful career due to very adoring audiences and long fame well into her forties, might in privacy realise she was not that young and be anxious about losing her youth, her popularity, her fame, her career, while it is still going strong and she is not yet history. And when an opportunity arrives to regain her youth in spirit - perhaps even in fact as a result of the affair - she takes it, and blooms with a return of youth and beauty. This is a story of such an affair and twists and turns.
Julia has more than one adoring fan, and a long standing friend who has always waited on side with proposals over the years and has comfortably settled into a companionship of dinners and other harmless activities together, giving her a glow of not only a perfect home life but also being desired and seen publicly to be so desired.
Now, at a moment of age creeping in, with producers etcetera looking at other - younger and newly established - actresses for the younger roles such as Juliet while making it clear she is intended to play Juliet's mother, she notices a very young man paying her attention, and in a moment of despondence with the loss of her popularity looming on horizon condescends to visit him in his lower middle class bachelor digs. It is as unexpected to her as to the reader when he makes advances without preamble or professing love and she - taken aback at this affront - ends up having sex for sheer lack of protest or defence.
She is surprised, pleased at this proof of her still being attractive, and this continues until she finds him in bed with another, new and very young aspiring actress. He in fact asks her to help the new woman, unaware of her having found about the affair. And he is sullen when confronted with the relationship.
Julia is in a quandary - if she says no, she might not only lose face in being seen as spiteful older woman but in fact might lose it all if the young man blabs about his having had sex with the older woman and her being interested while his dalliance was not serious. If she does help the younger woman, this is a sure step to her being sided to oblivion.
How she deals with this, and to the surprise of reader succeeds completely, having made fools of everyone concerned and regained her supremacy in her position as the reigning diva, is the story told delightfully by Maugham as usual.
Her art, her mastery of her art of acting, is half the reason for her being able to turn the tables and not only keep but regain all that is hers, to keep or discard as she would choose. Her sharp mind and connecting with her son is another factor, while her friend and his support being now discovered for its truth is yet another side story in this to bring a smile to the reader.
Entirely delightful.
Plays - W. Somerset Maugham.
The play that remains in memory after over three decades is Constant Wife, although others are good as well - and it is a softer version of the later one named Women by Claire Booth Luce. There are other differences, such as Women has no men on stage, while men are equally present in The Constant Wife, but the key difference is in the delightful twists in Maugham's English version with its dry humour while Booth Luce's Women remains sanctimonious and absolves men, as US versions of English originals often do whether sitcoms like Man About The House (copied as Three is company) or more serious comedies such as Yes Minister and Yes Prime Minister (anyone remember the boring, pompous President on US television? didn't last a season, and it was too much at that!) - thereby destroying much of the delight of the original.
Constant Wife is about a husband indulging in extramarital affair, and how the wife deals with it.
He has been having an affair, and she has been trying to keep a good front for sake of the home, the children, the society.
A friend returns from abroad with love for her still in his heart, and his eyes light up when she walks into the room. She takes him up on his offer to go away - and the husband confronts her.
How she smoothly irons those difficulties is the delight and the charm of this work, this writer. She intends to go, have the holiday, and return to her home - and cannot be threatened out of her well deserved vacation or her home either, the husband has lost the moral right and does not have the courage to be exposed to the public eye as the philanderer he has been and they have all known.
Constant Wife is about a husband indulging in extramarital affair, and how the wife deals with it.
He has been having an affair, and she has been trying to keep a good front for sake of the home, the children, the society.
A friend returns from abroad with love for her still in his heart, and his eyes light up when she walks into the room. She takes him up on his offer to go away - and the husband confronts her.
How she smoothly irons those difficulties is the delight and the charm of this work, this writer. She intends to go, have the holiday, and return to her home - and cannot be threatened out of her well deserved vacation or her home either, the husband has lost the moral right and does not have the courage to be exposed to the public eye as the philanderer he has been and they have all known.
Collected Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham.
So many favourites in this - most people like Rain more than any other, at any rate it is the most discussed one. My personal favourite however is Virtue, an unforgettable one.
There are many, many others of course - Round Dozen for one, with amusing details of a much married man aggrieved by one of his wives turning him in.
Then there is the heartbreaking one of love and loss that I can't think of the name and it is a rare one for lack of cynical or otherwise bringing the reader down to earth sort of twist.
There is Letter with its murder of a paramour gone wrong due to his having left a letter with his mistress who extorts the full value,
There is the story about a widow who married a friend of her murdered husband and the daughter who looks like the second husband.
And there is another one with the Italian husband murdering his own father on suspicion of an affair between his father and his wife.
And all these are only what I can recall off hand after three decades or so.
I suppose the one of love and death with grief and heartbreak remains close to heart, along with Virtue that remains close to conviction, with total agreement with the protagonist by the time the story is over.
I wish I could remember if the story about the expensive wife becoming beautiful is here, or it is by another writer.
.................................................................................
The Round Dozen:-
About a much marrying man who was much aggrieved and felt a genuine sense of injury and grievance when one of his wives informed the law - not particularly handsome or accomplished in any way whatsoever, middle aged and lower class and not educated nor sophisticated nor well to do, he had nevertheless developed a talent for marrying successfully by his own definition. He found lonely older women of certain financial independence at holiday places and paid them attention, and post marriage gave them a good time until their money ran out. Then it was time to move on. To his chagrin, there was a small matter of having married only eleven times. Most of his wives were in fact willing to take him back.
After his leaving prison, the protagonist received a post card from him one day, and understood he had made his round dozen to his satisfaction after all.
.....................................................................................
Rain:-
This must have been terribly shocking to the hypocritical and pious while being nothing new to those without blinkers, when published first - 20th century was nothing if not one that shredded many such veils of pretension from established societies of west.
The story takes place on a voyage in Pacific where a woman of certain profession is having fun along with a few of males around - after all being alone most of their lives far away from home was tough on the guys, and an accommodating woman who was not merely paid goods but one with some spirit, some heart and joy, was a blessing.
Unfortunately for them there is not merely a usual contingent of the disapproving couples and other respectable members of society but also a preacher very sure and proud of himself, who goes after the woman with denunciation and promised hell fire to all that would consort with her. She is brought to abject surrender and is entirely dependent on him subsequently in her submission to a pious life henceforth. And the preacher is willing to sacrifice himself, to go to her at any hour of day or night she might need him, as his wife very proudly testifies to his selfless sacrifice of his own comforts.
The preacher meanwhile has dreams of hills of Nebraska (having read it so long ago I could be wrong about the name of the particular state) - and then one day the preacher is found dead, having committed suicide, while there is sound of phonograph and laughter and dancing from the room of the woman who was trying to reform, and a note of bitter victory.
She was sincere in her repentance and her attempt to reform, but the high minded preacher all too fallible and unaware of his own Achilles's heel shared with all life, if not more than a little hypocritical in his imposition of his will and his standards of virtue on all and sundry.
..............................................................
Virtue:-
We are begun on a gentle note with the story of a forty odd year old man, caustic and yet much loved but admittedly difficult, finding love and being completely smitten with his wife he considers himself fortunate to marry - he is the same man but now happy and his acerbic nature is taken now as wit due to his basking in his wife's love, a much loved woman in society, and their insistence on being put up together when invited is an amusing embarrassment for hostesses who lack room and are used to couples wishing to be put up rather apart.
And then there is an acquaintance of the writer (protagonist really, except one tends to assume he is the writer) from colonies in Malaya, a young man who needs to have some company and is introduced to the couple. Some time later, the couple is separated, and the wife is adamant in not returning to the husband, and he commits suicide.
The protagonist is called to interpret a letter from the young man in Malaya who has now returned, and informed that he is responsible for the love that the young man and the not so young wife (now widow) fell into since he introduced them. The letter is cautious and sympathetic about her loss but equivocal about her prospects of being able to come to Malaya to marry him.
The hostess, a friend of the protagonist makes the observation that it is up to him to make the young man realise his responsibility having gone into the love affair and caused the separation, which is when it becomes clear that the wife in love with another man had never crossed her limits being a virtuous woman.
"Virtue be damned" informs her the protagonist, since it had caused so much grief and a death of a loving husband - if only the wife had quietly had had her affair and finished it the man would still be alive.
And while to some pompous hypocrites it would be an opportunity to gasp and act shocked, today the reality of that statement is only too obvious, what with "the lack of commitment" of males being so huge a problem in US.
..........................................................
There are many, many others of course - Round Dozen for one, with amusing details of a much married man aggrieved by one of his wives turning him in.
Then there is the heartbreaking one of love and loss that I can't think of the name and it is a rare one for lack of cynical or otherwise bringing the reader down to earth sort of twist.
There is Letter with its murder of a paramour gone wrong due to his having left a letter with his mistress who extorts the full value,
There is the story about a widow who married a friend of her murdered husband and the daughter who looks like the second husband.
And there is another one with the Italian husband murdering his own father on suspicion of an affair between his father and his wife.
And all these are only what I can recall off hand after three decades or so.
I suppose the one of love and death with grief and heartbreak remains close to heart, along with Virtue that remains close to conviction, with total agreement with the protagonist by the time the story is over.
I wish I could remember if the story about the expensive wife becoming beautiful is here, or it is by another writer.
.................................................................................
The Round Dozen:-
About a much marrying man who was much aggrieved and felt a genuine sense of injury and grievance when one of his wives informed the law - not particularly handsome or accomplished in any way whatsoever, middle aged and lower class and not educated nor sophisticated nor well to do, he had nevertheless developed a talent for marrying successfully by his own definition. He found lonely older women of certain financial independence at holiday places and paid them attention, and post marriage gave them a good time until their money ran out. Then it was time to move on. To his chagrin, there was a small matter of having married only eleven times. Most of his wives were in fact willing to take him back.
After his leaving prison, the protagonist received a post card from him one day, and understood he had made his round dozen to his satisfaction after all.
.....................................................................................
Rain:-
This must have been terribly shocking to the hypocritical and pious while being nothing new to those without blinkers, when published first - 20th century was nothing if not one that shredded many such veils of pretension from established societies of west.
The story takes place on a voyage in Pacific where a woman of certain profession is having fun along with a few of males around - after all being alone most of their lives far away from home was tough on the guys, and an accommodating woman who was not merely paid goods but one with some spirit, some heart and joy, was a blessing.
Unfortunately for them there is not merely a usual contingent of the disapproving couples and other respectable members of society but also a preacher very sure and proud of himself, who goes after the woman with denunciation and promised hell fire to all that would consort with her. She is brought to abject surrender and is entirely dependent on him subsequently in her submission to a pious life henceforth. And the preacher is willing to sacrifice himself, to go to her at any hour of day or night she might need him, as his wife very proudly testifies to his selfless sacrifice of his own comforts.
The preacher meanwhile has dreams of hills of Nebraska (having read it so long ago I could be wrong about the name of the particular state) - and then one day the preacher is found dead, having committed suicide, while there is sound of phonograph and laughter and dancing from the room of the woman who was trying to reform, and a note of bitter victory.
She was sincere in her repentance and her attempt to reform, but the high minded preacher all too fallible and unaware of his own Achilles's heel shared with all life, if not more than a little hypocritical in his imposition of his will and his standards of virtue on all and sundry.
..............................................................
Virtue:-
We are begun on a gentle note with the story of a forty odd year old man, caustic and yet much loved but admittedly difficult, finding love and being completely smitten with his wife he considers himself fortunate to marry - he is the same man but now happy and his acerbic nature is taken now as wit due to his basking in his wife's love, a much loved woman in society, and their insistence on being put up together when invited is an amusing embarrassment for hostesses who lack room and are used to couples wishing to be put up rather apart.
And then there is an acquaintance of the writer (protagonist really, except one tends to assume he is the writer) from colonies in Malaya, a young man who needs to have some company and is introduced to the couple. Some time later, the couple is separated, and the wife is adamant in not returning to the husband, and he commits suicide.
The protagonist is called to interpret a letter from the young man in Malaya who has now returned, and informed that he is responsible for the love that the young man and the not so young wife (now widow) fell into since he introduced them. The letter is cautious and sympathetic about her loss but equivocal about her prospects of being able to come to Malaya to marry him.
The hostess, a friend of the protagonist makes the observation that it is up to him to make the young man realise his responsibility having gone into the love affair and caused the separation, which is when it becomes clear that the wife in love with another man had never crossed her limits being a virtuous woman.
"Virtue be damned" informs her the protagonist, since it had caused so much grief and a death of a loving husband - if only the wife had quietly had had her affair and finished it the man would still be alive.
And while to some pompous hypocrites it would be an opportunity to gasp and act shocked, today the reality of that statement is only too obvious, what with "the lack of commitment" of males being so huge a problem in US.
..........................................................
Up At The Villa: by W, Somerset Maugham.
The young Englishwoman who is centre of attention of the English and locals alike in prewar Italy, with fascism established but yet unable to convey its horrors to the visiting or permanent resident English diaspora, has little money but excellent gentle bringing up and is ready to be a proper wife to a suitable candidate. With her lack of dowry however the number of eligible bachelors around her is as limited as the general interest in her by males not quite suitable for marriage (without loss of class, certainly, that is). There is one, though, a prize catch - one that is older but still in prime and a certainty for a very high post in colonial British empire. The town is abuzz with his arriving in town only to ask her hand in marriage.
The older woman who befriends the younger one understands the dilemma of the young one and relates a tale about her giving herself to a poor man from sheer exhilaration of being a dream beyond dream to him. This is an impossibly romantic fantasy, and there is no sane person around to advise the younger woman against it - it is only affordable when a woman has nothing to lose thereby.
And what with the black shadow of fascism spreading over Europe, there is no dearth of handsome young poor males who are fugitives in Italy from Austria, newly occupied. There are some that are not merely poor but desperate, fleeing in fear for life from the beast and nowhere to go, starving, and all too set to see in her an angel of mercy when she acts from a natural kindness in providing a meal with human kindness rather than acting aloof suitable to a class difference.
Soon the train of events gets out of hand and the young woman finds herself in tight spots, intrigues and adventures which taken together are entirely unsuitable for wife of a man with a high level position the Empire, especially with times being so difficult - Caesar's wife and so forth. He would have to give it up before he can accept, since he is a gentleman and moreover loves her since she was young girl, and the proposal is a word of a gentleman.
The whole dilemma of a poor young woman in upper class circumstances who needs to marry well and has no prospects, and nevertheless has not only a code of conduct to follow but a heart yearning for more than staid life in public eye, is dealt with delicacy.
Amazingly parallel to the world stage and Europe in particular, this unlikely tale portrays the dilemma and the travails and the release from the old order of the world and people enslaved in various very different forms in the story of the young woman personified - there is the staid old order with security and code of conduct and secure future in public sight, the yearning for more and travails and nightmare lived through that the world lived via wars and the young woman in her romance and horrors, and the release of the world and the woman from old secure order and a secure future into a liberation with uncertainties but freedom.
Amazing and unlikely parallel, because the sanctimonious are likely to see merely a sordid scandal in the story of the young woman - and yet, it is a parable for the history of the war years, releasing people into liberation and uncertain freedom.
The older woman who befriends the younger one understands the dilemma of the young one and relates a tale about her giving herself to a poor man from sheer exhilaration of being a dream beyond dream to him. This is an impossibly romantic fantasy, and there is no sane person around to advise the younger woman against it - it is only affordable when a woman has nothing to lose thereby.
And what with the black shadow of fascism spreading over Europe, there is no dearth of handsome young poor males who are fugitives in Italy from Austria, newly occupied. There are some that are not merely poor but desperate, fleeing in fear for life from the beast and nowhere to go, starving, and all too set to see in her an angel of mercy when she acts from a natural kindness in providing a meal with human kindness rather than acting aloof suitable to a class difference.
Soon the train of events gets out of hand and the young woman finds herself in tight spots, intrigues and adventures which taken together are entirely unsuitable for wife of a man with a high level position the Empire, especially with times being so difficult - Caesar's wife and so forth. He would have to give it up before he can accept, since he is a gentleman and moreover loves her since she was young girl, and the proposal is a word of a gentleman.
The whole dilemma of a poor young woman in upper class circumstances who needs to marry well and has no prospects, and nevertheless has not only a code of conduct to follow but a heart yearning for more than staid life in public eye, is dealt with delicacy.
Amazingly parallel to the world stage and Europe in particular, this unlikely tale portrays the dilemma and the travails and the release from the old order of the world and people enslaved in various very different forms in the story of the young woman personified - there is the staid old order with security and code of conduct and secure future in public sight, the yearning for more and travails and nightmare lived through that the world lived via wars and the young woman in her romance and horrors, and the release of the world and the woman from old secure order and a secure future into a liberation with uncertainties but freedom.
Amazing and unlikely parallel, because the sanctimonious are likely to see merely a sordid scandal in the story of the young woman - and yet, it is a parable for the history of the war years, releasing people into liberation and uncertain freedom.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Christmas Holiday: by W. Somerset Maugham.
One cannot help remembering a short story by Maugham where the father sends the boy to a holiday to see Paris and arms the young man with explicit instructions about how to be safe by clinging to virtue; the boy however does gamble and win tremendously, goes back with a young woman whom he sees steal his money and when she sleeps takes it from her hiding place - only to discover that he came away with her money as well; and tells his father that he did all right in spite of breaking every rule of his father's virtuous code of conduct. The story is told by the father to the protagonist / writer with a worry about the boy going on believing his father was wrong and virtues and code of conduct means nothing, and the father is worried about the boy's future. The writer / protagonist cannot help laughing.
The similarity of this theme makes one wonder if the writer did not think of both the versions at the same time and elaborate on the story with serious twist for a novel while keeping the wry wit that was his forte for the short stories where it belonged.
The similarity of this theme makes one wonder if the writer did not think of both the versions at the same time and elaborate on the story with serious twist for a novel while keeping the wry wit that was his forte for the short stories where it belonged.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Eleventh Commandment: by Jeffrey Archer.
About the unwritten eleventh commandment which is generally followed as most important for politics and politicians, diplomats etcetera - thou shalt not get caught - while going on about business of assassinations in other countries, toppling their governments and generally keeping them unsettled, since fair means are difficult to fight with and wiping another's line easier than drawing a longer one for oneself.
Honour Among Thieves: by Jeffrey Archer.
A plot cooked by Saddam Hussein to steal the constitution of US and bring it to Baghdad and then burn it on television for the whole world to see, which almost succeeds but is foiled neatly by vigilant US men and the honour among thieves that won't let such an atrocity take place. Thrilling, horror, delightful in the foiling of the whole mission of insult to US, and good read.
First Among Equals: by Jeffrey Archer.
A look in political system of UK (sans royalty) via men who aspire to serve their country through working for people, with various major parties - Labour, Tory, and later on the Liberals - and the parliamentary system of the nation.
Other nations have adopted the system with one perhaps major difference - the shadow cabinet. It is a powerful tool to keep the ruling party on their tows with requirements of sharing papers and decisions, while the opposition is not free to topple the government and has in fact to assume responsibility of the nation as soon as such an event occurs.
Story of various men who rise from young aspirants to more powerful roles in their parties, their constituencies, with the family and private life of each playing a considerable role as do their personal styles and charisma. Very skillfully written and very enjoyable, as as many many of works of Archer.
Other nations have adopted the system with one perhaps major difference - the shadow cabinet. It is a powerful tool to keep the ruling party on their tows with requirements of sharing papers and decisions, while the opposition is not free to topple the government and has in fact to assume responsibility of the nation as soon as such an event occurs.
Story of various men who rise from young aspirants to more powerful roles in their parties, their constituencies, with the family and private life of each playing a considerable role as do their personal styles and charisma. Very skillfully written and very enjoyable, as as many many of works of Archer.
A Prison Diary: Book 3: Heaven: by Jeffrey Archer
The cover photo with a patch of bright sky behind bars high above in the cell shown here is probably from the last cell he occupied in the place he surprisingly names Heaven (wouldn't earth be more appropriate, with Heaven reserved for home and family and freedom?) in this last part of his prison diaries, North Sea Camp, for one day.
That itself is a shocking turn of events stamping forever the British justice and other bureaucratic systems with a blot on the escutcheon, where individuals might be decent on the whole but bullied or otherwise persuaded into officially behaving otherwise, depending on their own bent of mind and heart or on their own individual circumstances. Anyone threatened with a loss of job or pension might do something rather unfair to someone however unwillingly.
And the fact of Archer being treated with unfair persecution, overblown noise about a lie and general misuse of law to punish someone for a completely different reason has been obvious from the start of the affair, even to the lay members of public reading about it all in news. Drunken drivers getting less sentence is just one example of this in evidence, as is the protective treatment of sex offenders in prison including paedophiles. And there is more.
Other than that the book is as others in the series full of interesting stories about how and why people, specifically men, end up in prison, and moreover might be decent apart from their specific crimes. The most horrendous crimes according to prisoners is sex crimes, and paedophiles need not only segregation but a cover story to be able to stay alive in prisons full of murderers. Going by the stories from just four prisons Archer gives this gradation is truly more along what should be put in place in dealing justice.
Strangely enough while prisoners including burglars and murderers see this as well as any general family people, most legal systems don't. Another one they - the legal systems - don't see the danger really of is drivers who drink, more than once being involved in accidents. These ought to be dealt with on par with potential manslaughter and illegal substance users, but in reality get a mere few weeks and have no remorse whatsoever.
His - Archer's - observations about how to prevent spread of intoxicants (I don't see why drugs should be used as a term both for therapeutic medicines and illegal unnecessary substances as well) and how to stop people going from comparatively mild and less harmful stuff like marijuana (much less harmful than tobacco or alcohol, much less addictive, as shown by its prevalent usage in so called less developed nations without any accompanying increase in crime) to seriously harmful substances like heroin, cocaine, and so forth, are very worth paying attention to - although given the circumstances of his persecution by authorities in Britain I would not be surprised if his recommendations are put in place by nations other than Britain first, even US. After all LA was almost the first place to make smoking illegal in public.
There are some human interest, even hilarious stories, about prisoners desperate to go to prison either from being more safe or for wanting to be with someone. There are observations about the general medical system being low compared to that in prison (one gets to see the doctor within an hour without appointment, and is taken to hospital as soon as needed).
And then there is the usual mistake, probably from Archer's need to protect the real names and complete indifference about providing another genuine one.
Patels being Sikh is about as likely as Archer being Romanov prince in entirely male lineage, less in fact. Or a Dubois being entirely Siberian, or a Smith being of Turkish ancestry in entirety.
That itself is a shocking turn of events stamping forever the British justice and other bureaucratic systems with a blot on the escutcheon, where individuals might be decent on the whole but bullied or otherwise persuaded into officially behaving otherwise, depending on their own bent of mind and heart or on their own individual circumstances. Anyone threatened with a loss of job or pension might do something rather unfair to someone however unwillingly.
And the fact of Archer being treated with unfair persecution, overblown noise about a lie and general misuse of law to punish someone for a completely different reason has been obvious from the start of the affair, even to the lay members of public reading about it all in news. Drunken drivers getting less sentence is just one example of this in evidence, as is the protective treatment of sex offenders in prison including paedophiles. And there is more.
Other than that the book is as others in the series full of interesting stories about how and why people, specifically men, end up in prison, and moreover might be decent apart from their specific crimes. The most horrendous crimes according to prisoners is sex crimes, and paedophiles need not only segregation but a cover story to be able to stay alive in prisons full of murderers. Going by the stories from just four prisons Archer gives this gradation is truly more along what should be put in place in dealing justice.
Strangely enough while prisoners including burglars and murderers see this as well as any general family people, most legal systems don't. Another one they - the legal systems - don't see the danger really of is drivers who drink, more than once being involved in accidents. These ought to be dealt with on par with potential manslaughter and illegal substance users, but in reality get a mere few weeks and have no remorse whatsoever.
His - Archer's - observations about how to prevent spread of intoxicants (I don't see why drugs should be used as a term both for therapeutic medicines and illegal unnecessary substances as well) and how to stop people going from comparatively mild and less harmful stuff like marijuana (much less harmful than tobacco or alcohol, much less addictive, as shown by its prevalent usage in so called less developed nations without any accompanying increase in crime) to seriously harmful substances like heroin, cocaine, and so forth, are very worth paying attention to - although given the circumstances of his persecution by authorities in Britain I would not be surprised if his recommendations are put in place by nations other than Britain first, even US. After all LA was almost the first place to make smoking illegal in public.
There are some human interest, even hilarious stories, about prisoners desperate to go to prison either from being more safe or for wanting to be with someone. There are observations about the general medical system being low compared to that in prison (one gets to see the doctor within an hour without appointment, and is taken to hospital as soon as needed).
And then there is the usual mistake, probably from Archer's need to protect the real names and complete indifference about providing another genuine one.
Patels being Sikh is about as likely as Archer being Romanov prince in entirely male lineage, less in fact. Or a Dubois being entirely Siberian, or a Smith being of Turkish ancestry in entirety.
Friday, September 17, 2010
A Man For All Seasons: by Robert Bolt.
A man who would be careful in treading the narrow path, serving his king and his faith, with careful steps to preserve his loyalty to one and his integrity of self and soul in another realm - and yet must be hounded out due to political needs of the day, with all means used and none barred. One of my most favourite tales - and it reaches its pinnacle when the wise lawyer is debating his son-in-law about fighting those that oppose truth, and explains why "cutting down every tree in the forest that the devil might hide behind" is a bad idea.
Thomas More is known for much wisdom and scholarly achievement, during a difficult time for his nation. He did his best in keeping loyalty to his sovereign and to his faith, and if he was torn it was perhaps the fault of a demand rather than the one who is expected to fulfill it. State and faith ought never to have conflicts, and subsequent (although not immediate) Regina Queen Elizabeth was largely able to see to it that a nation is forged and made strong with conflicts of this nature put behind it.
Thus A Man For All Seasons by Robert Bolt.
And yet - Bolt conveniently leaves out a few details, such as the men who were burnt alive by More while he was in office working for the church and the king both, when he knew fully well the troubled relationship between the two and the fact of the king's growing disenchantment with the politics of Rome and his need to strike free, and his increasing interest in reading on Protestant or otherwise free thinking views. The crime of those burnt alive by More? Thinking, and writing, without permission of Rome.
That Bolt leaves this out says as much for him as for the strong lobby attempting to impose domination of Rome, pretty much like the threatening groups of another religion that stems from the same roots and is younger, attempting to take over the whole world by threatening death to all that do not convert.
Thomas More is known for much wisdom and scholarly achievement, during a difficult time for his nation. He did his best in keeping loyalty to his sovereign and to his faith, and if he was torn it was perhaps the fault of a demand rather than the one who is expected to fulfill it. State and faith ought never to have conflicts, and subsequent (although not immediate) Regina Queen Elizabeth was largely able to see to it that a nation is forged and made strong with conflicts of this nature put behind it.
Thus A Man For All Seasons by Robert Bolt.
And yet - Bolt conveniently leaves out a few details, such as the men who were burnt alive by More while he was in office working for the church and the king both, when he knew fully well the troubled relationship between the two and the fact of the king's growing disenchantment with the politics of Rome and his need to strike free, and his increasing interest in reading on Protestant or otherwise free thinking views. The crime of those burnt alive by More? Thinking, and writing, without permission of Rome.
That Bolt leaves this out says as much for him as for the strong lobby attempting to impose domination of Rome, pretty much like the threatening groups of another religion that stems from the same roots and is younger, attempting to take over the whole world by threatening death to all that do not convert.
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