Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe: by Fannie Flag.
How do love and friendship between two friends battle against a physically and in every other way abusive husband of one, long after her love (and the other friend's much loved brother) has died in an accident? The ultimate solution lies in the fact that all red flesh looks alike after all, and when served as a dish, the policeman who is on the side of the abusive male and persecuting the two women with a suspicion about the disappearance of the said abusive male (who had threatened them with everything he could and was quite capable of carrying out his threat, never dreaming delicate young women could strike back in defence) has no suspicion about what his latest free meal at the cafe the two women run consists of - he merely appreciates the taste.
From Here To Eternity: by James Jones.
Home truths about war and US military with heartbreaking and one being forced to recognise the truths of this work, From Here To Eternity is to US what All Quiet On The Western Front is to home truths of war in Europe and German army in wwI. A must.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Lincoln's Mothers: by Dorothy Clarke Wilson.
A very good book about some very good people, nice to read, and leaves one with a good feeling suffusing one's heart.
Lincoln spoke about his mother, and most people understood it to be about his birth mother who died soon after. The author here questions that automatic assumption, and while makes no dispute about someone who gave life to such a great man, hypothesises that it might in fact have been about his stepmother who influenced him and was responsible for encouraging his aspirations of reading and learning despite the harsh frontier life of Illinois - Indiana - Kentucky border where his future wife was brought up in a mansion in style with slaves while he lived in a log cabin.
Lincoln spoke about his mother, and most people understood it to be about his birth mother who died soon after. The author here questions that automatic assumption, and while makes no dispute about someone who gave life to such a great man, hypothesises that it might in fact have been about his stepmother who influenced him and was responsible for encouraging his aspirations of reading and learning despite the harsh frontier life of Illinois - Indiana - Kentucky border where his future wife was brought up in a mansion in style with slaves while he lived in a log cabin.
Friday, December 17, 2010
The Canterville ghost, The happy prince and other stories: by Oscar Wilde.
“The Canterville ghost is one of the most delightful stories for all its subject's seriousness - for, like it or not, believe it or not, England is reputed to be riddled with ghosts, and whether the living are scared or amused or intrigued or bored or oblivious, it cannot be anything but torture for a departed soul to linger on in agony of the horrors suffered in life - or for that matter the punishment for misdeeds one did that preclude the progress of the soul.
So there is the very sensitive and loving young daughter of the visiting family who brings solace to the ghost, and the parents who simply refuse to believe there is anything of the sort anywhere at all, and the family servants who are taking care of the estate and the new tenants while keeping mum on the topic mostly. But then there is the pair of young twin boys who will be boys and this time in a good way, who not only see and believe what they see plainly and hear but fight back with all their arsenal - and the old ghost is no match for the tween pair. They set traps and the ghost is caught, they throw water and the ghost catches cold, and so forth, with increasing delight for the boys and despair for the ghost. Then there is the practical mother of the children who gets the bloodstains washed and wiped clean as a matter of fact every day, and they are all amused to notice that the colour of the blood stains begins to change to various shades of red - and then one day it is green, to the total perplexed attention of four out of five. The sensitive young girl is in tears meanwhile due to the stains, since the production of the stains by the ghost has been depleting her precious paints and she knows she will only be blamed if she were to inform them why the latest one is green. The parents are so rock firm in their lack of belief in ghosts!
So there is the very sensitive and loving young daughter of the visiting family who brings solace to the ghost, and the parents who simply refuse to believe there is anything of the sort anywhere at all, and the family servants who are taking care of the estate and the new tenants while keeping mum on the topic mostly. But then there is the pair of young twin boys who will be boys and this time in a good way, who not only see and believe what they see plainly and hear but fight back with all their arsenal - and the old ghost is no match for the tween pair. They set traps and the ghost is caught, they throw water and the ghost catches cold, and so forth, with increasing delight for the boys and despair for the ghost. Then there is the practical mother of the children who gets the bloodstains washed and wiped clean as a matter of fact every day, and they are all amused to notice that the colour of the blood stains begins to change to various shades of red - and then one day it is green, to the total perplexed attention of four out of five. The sensitive young girl is in tears meanwhile due to the stains, since the production of the stains by the ghost has been depleting her precious paints and she knows she will only be blamed if she were to inform them why the latest one is green. The parents are so rock firm in their lack of belief in ghosts!
Importance of Being Ernest:: by Oscar Wilde.
Delightful and seemingly silly comedy with Ernest being a name, one that more than one suitor of a couple of young women claim, and seem finally to have - what with a nanny who lost a baby by confusing it with a handbag she was going to check in at a safe storage facility, fortunate finding of the said lost baby transformed into a young male, and so forth.
The title however is a clue to the wit of the author, the subtle or perhaps under the circumstances not so subtle commentary on the prevalent norms that penalised him for his lack of reverence for social norms of the day, the tongue in cheek nature of the title being hollow since Ernest is only a name after all.
The title however is a clue to the wit of the author, the subtle or perhaps under the circumstances not so subtle commentary on the prevalent norms that penalised him for his lack of reverence for social norms of the day, the tongue in cheek nature of the title being hollow since Ernest is only a name after all.
Importance of Being Ernest: by Oscar Wilde.
Delightful and seemingly silly comedy with Ernest being a name, one that more than one suitor of a couple of young women claim, and seem finally to have - what with a nanny who lost a baby by confusing it with a handbag she was going to check in at a safe storage facility, fortunate finding of the said lost baby transformed into a young male, and so forth.
The title however is a clue to the wit of the author, the subtle or perhaps under the circumstances not so subtle commentary on the prevalent norms that penalised him for his lack of reverence for social norms of the day, the tongue in cheek nature of the title being hollow since Ernest is only a name after all.
The title however is a clue to the wit of the author, the subtle or perhaps under the circumstances not so subtle commentary on the prevalent norms that penalised him for his lack of reverence for social norms of the day, the tongue in cheek nature of the title being hollow since Ernest is only a name after all.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Lady Windermere's Fan: by Oscar Wilde.
With a name like that you would expect a delightful comedy, and you would be wrong - this one begins to break heart right from the word go. There is the very young Lady Windermere with her new husband she is very much in love with and the friend of the couple who is in love with her, and the whole society buzzing with the woman of disrepute new in town who the said husband has recently taken up with, including paying her very expensive bills; she even almost blackmails him to give her more money, and he is unable to refuse. The woman is audacious enough to make acquaintance of Lady Windermere herself, which might compromise the latter in view of the reputation of the former, and has boldness enough to demand that the husband gets her invited to the party the wife is throwing. The husband is desperate enough to ask, the wife refuses in all rectitude, and the husband sends out the invitation anyway in the wife's name, normally a privilege and a right that belongs solely to her. The wife upon seeing the woman she has not invited informs him she shall strike the woman with her fan, a public insult he implores her not to offer - and she lacks the courage to do so. Then she sees the huge amount he has paid out to the woman, and decides it is time to leave him, and takes support of the very persuasive friend who has been attempting to convince her he will be a far more faithful lover than the husband - of course he is not about to remind her of the life of ignominy she shall live thereafter as either an adulteress or as a divorcée, or worse if the said lover abandoned her.
And then comes the full knowledge offered by the author to the reader (but it is to be kept from the innocent young bride for her own security) and the twists that save her, and too the "other" woman. The end is truly delightful, after all the heartbreaks through the whole play.
And then comes the full knowledge offered by the author to the reader (but it is to be kept from the innocent young bride for her own security) and the twists that save her, and too the "other" woman. The end is truly delightful, after all the heartbreaks through the whole play.
Howard's End: by E. M. Forster.
A good exposé of caste system as understood - perhaps not so named, but well entrenched for all that - in UK, generally Europe, and even in US all except the aristocracy bit (and even that, albeit not supposedly so). Those that have money look down on those that do not, although those that have been brought up having it and expecting to continue the life that money allowed them to live are then in uncertain circumstances when money is not quite there for whatever reason - a will, an entailed estate, whatever.
A lover might then jilt a perfectly wonderful young woman with aplomb upon discovery - or with prior knowledge - of her penury or a little straitened circumstances resulting in lack of a sumptuous dowry, and expect no harsh consequences for himself; rather, she must expect to be socially outcast for having a well to do male trifle with her as if she were able to afford a dowry suitable to purchase his betrothal.
An older male with wealth might notice a younger woman in straitened circumstances and propose marriage to her expecting her gratitude, even that of her whole family, along with a prompt acceptance; after all he is providing her and them with a shelter and food on table, and they must see to his convenience in all things concerned no matter what else transpires.
If a young woman with no money takes up with a man of education and higher aspirations and attempts to help him out of a tender heart, she stands to be ridiculed or worse if he is married and - or - less well to do.
When all of the above come together in one story, it makes for quite a social commentary on the social hypocrisy regarding the said caste system of west, dealing with interactions of rich, poor and in between, their expectations and aspirations, education and dreams of a life with art and music and literature.
A lover might then jilt a perfectly wonderful young woman with aplomb upon discovery - or with prior knowledge - of her penury or a little straitened circumstances resulting in lack of a sumptuous dowry, and expect no harsh consequences for himself; rather, she must expect to be socially outcast for having a well to do male trifle with her as if she were able to afford a dowry suitable to purchase his betrothal.
An older male with wealth might notice a younger woman in straitened circumstances and propose marriage to her expecting her gratitude, even that of her whole family, along with a prompt acceptance; after all he is providing her and them with a shelter and food on table, and they must see to his convenience in all things concerned no matter what else transpires.
If a young woman with no money takes up with a man of education and higher aspirations and attempts to help him out of a tender heart, she stands to be ridiculed or worse if he is married and - or - less well to do.
When all of the above come together in one story, it makes for quite a social commentary on the social hypocrisy regarding the said caste system of west, dealing with interactions of rich, poor and in between, their expectations and aspirations, education and dreams of a life with art and music and literature.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
All Quiet On The Western Front: by Erich Maria Remarque.
One of the few looks at a war depicting it with all its horrors and unappetising, sordid details - perhaps an original in that sense. Not bugles but barely school graduate (or not even graduate) boys leaving in tears just held back while they can just about not cling to their mothers as the train is ready to leave; not glories but the real details of a war as it happens to normal soldiers. This is the reality when the war is as pointless as that begun by Germany in wwI, and the horror then spread to involve various other nations and their soldiers, what with the years of trenches and living in mud in all sorts of weather in northern Europe.
The author is respected and celebrated as one of the best for very good reason, even if he had done nothing but this one brilliant piece telling it like it was.
The author is respected and celebrated as one of the best for very good reason, even if he had done nothing but this one brilliant piece telling it like it was.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Mexico: by James Michener.
October 15, 2008
This is temporary I hope - I haven't finished this yet, partly due to an unwillingness to go on to watch a bullfight even on paper, what with the very evocative writings of this author.
He truly brings alive the history of the continent, of the indigenous and their encounters with the invading marauders who assumed supremacy due to colour and size, the change over from a once flourishing civilization that not much is known now about, to one in constant state of flux with various military and other regimes and neighbours looking down on the nation that was once great in various achievements.
But reading this made one aware of much of the world that one is generally unlikely to know about, and the history is sometimes - often more often than not so, amazing; and then again a little off-putting in the concepts about bloodshed.
And then the fights themselves, while reading this I found an unasked question being answered, though it was not mentioned here - not as far as I read.
One always wonders why torture an innocent animal like this, one that can be far more useful and friendly too, unlike dangerous ones that can turn into human-hunters, although mostly even they do so usually by accident.
And I wondered if it was not a necessity of food, and the difficulty of killing a bull in prime without a fight, that began as a needful activity and turned into a spectator sport. Else it makes very little sense really.
Various people that go throwing paint on fur coats have not paid attention to this and other cruelty to animals on everyday basis is also due to this - it is easy to shout against a luxury of a few that kills a few animals, but difficult to protest against food of many. This is all the more so, especially when huge financial interests are involved, the butchers (who have taken to call themselves farmers, as if they and not the animals are responsible for the cattle reproduction, which is not a sowing and harvest, it is a mammal reproduction of the species) and the markets that sell and the chains that serve it.
So the protest against mink coats that makes no sense to a vegetarian might be really a token by an awakening mind and consciousness that nevertheless weighs carefully the consequences - if you protest against any chains serving burgers, you might be thrown in jail or worse, asylum; while throwing paint on a coat you couldn't afford anyway is treated lightly, the rich one might be induced to buy another one after all!
It is a fight they pick carefully, and do not even protest the leather shoes or bags or briefcases when those have become unnecessary. And of course those are the least of it all - if you are going to eat a huge quantity of animals in a culture what do you do with the leftovers? The least is leather goods manufacture, which in fact can be done even without the eating part - after all the animals are going to die one day, on their own.
It is far easier to protest killing of foxes in distant regions where their roaming is not a threat to your children and your pets and your barn animals.
October 15, 2008
............................................
December 9, 2010.
Finally one gets over the reluctance to go through a gory death or two, certainly of the innocent animals involved who are bred and brought up only so that they can be murdered for sport, never mind the honour of being mounted on walls of owners and breeders with pride about how they fought well, but also of the men involved in the killing of the animals, occasionally - after all it is an honourable way to kill the poor animals tricked into the arena to be killed, only with swords and other similar weapons rather than with a bullet at a distance safe enough for the killer.
Having sealed oneself to any sensibility of the gore involved, one proceeds to go through the rest of the book and it proves more rewarding with a history of Mexico along with the related parts of history of Spain, US, church, and so forth. It is a letdown to accidentally read the acknowledgement at the end to find that a good deal of it is "fiction" as stated by the writer, but then again, that is about specific people and names mentioned, including that of city of Toledo in Mexico. Other parts however are perfectly true, such as inquisition in Europe in general and Spain in particular. Palafoxes might be fiction, but burning of dissenters by church is as real and historical as bullfights or civil war of US.
That being the case, the initial uncanny feeling one gets while reading the history of Mexico, (with the history of its primitive and beastly nomadic tribals from northern parts creeping closer to and overtaking the far superior civilisation of the Builders who have grown too peaceful to resist the vicious onslaught due precisely to the vastly superior civilisation they have achieved - they have built, are peaceful, have civil administration, and other amenities and achievements more than comparable to any other of the period in the world - and the subsequent subjugation and massacre of the superior civilisation by the wilder tribes from north before the wild tribes settle down, adopt ways of the subjugated ones and absorb their culture and achievements and proceed to be civilised and build on top of the ruins they brought about), that it is all too similar enough to history of Asia (what with tribes of Mongolia and central Asia descending on India and reigning havoc with destruction and massacres before settling down and adopting much of Indian culture including superior buildings albeit built over the destroyed older ones), is all too easily explained after all. It is perhaps an coincidence of history after all, with similar events occurring clear across the world, but it is just as likely a history of another land written by someone more familiar with the more famous history of a much older civilisation overrun by tribes of Mongolia, central Asia, Arabia and then Europe, just as it happened perhaps in Mexico. The Goddess described by Michener with revulsion might be a fact of Mexican history, and then again his description might just be the reaction of Europe to images of Kaalie the Mother Goddess worshiped in India, a reaction that stems through a total absence of perception and comprehension. Certainly the description and the reaction is all too similar, with the difference of the thought that all such images stem from imagination rather than a greater perception of reality, for how could anyone with a more than feeble colour of visage and less than totally vicious lack of regard for others have any superiority of mind and spirit, goes the reasoning.
All this from a source that has historically brutal massacres of any dissenters merely for the reason of dissent, massacres held valid while dissent held abominable even now with usage of words and terminology describing the inquisition, the burning at stakes, the subjugation and conversion of other people, and so forth including enslaving of almost three continents and looting of their wealth while sneering at the people empoverished thereby. It is almost a vicious satire on the thinking of the dominant races that preach of their supposedly superior idols and the murders, massacres and slavery of others in the name of a philosophy of love and kindness, all the while boasting of their horror at idols of others who in fact are far more of the civilised and achieved people in terms of mind and spirit.
.....................................................
Europe had gunpowder - from China - while Mexico and southern civilisations had astronomy, architecture, and much more; the meeting of the two civilisations resulted in havoc reigned on the latter by the former. Admission of all this is covered with equivocation by the descriptions of human sacrifices by a fictional tribe in a fictional city and building of structures of civil society over an already established city while stealing its valuable minerals - silver in this case - in the book; much of the fiction is only fiction re specific names, while the general history is all too real, only taken from various sources in Mexico and perhaps subconsciously from Asia as well.
The greatest virtue of the book is in the fact that one wishes to go on reading about the history of Mexico and various other parts of the continent of what is so falsely termed "New World" - twenty thousand years of life in the continent, including nearly a millennia of familiarity to Nordic Europe what with Viking settlements in Canada and as far south as Boston, is hardly what one would call "new", unless compared to far more ancient civilisations of Asia such as India or China - and this even apart from the dismay at the discovery of the author's declaration that the specifics herein are "fiction". So next one finishes the other book, not declared fiction by the author of that one but on the contrary one that questions the popular and assiduously propagated versions of history, by Hancock.
One nice point is the beginning of a consciousness in humans of the brains of cattle with the fast learning ability, all too similar to humans; another is about the genealogical relationship of qualities received from the parents - physical abilities from father, courage from mother. Put the two together, it is not difficult to understand how those that live with cattle in harmony rather than a relationship of slavery have a regard for the cattle, brought about by the perceived and understood qualities of gentle and yet strong, courageous species with an ability to understand, an ability to learn and love and more, all too like humans. And if this perception is allowed to filter through the ego it has to lead to the destruction of misogyny - for a clear evidence of qualities of cows compared with bulls has to lead anyone not too stupid to question if the inferiority of the human female is not an invention of male institutions of church and other sort to subjugate and enslave half of humanity for selfish purposes rather than an actual perception of qualities and differences thereof.
This is temporary I hope - I haven't finished this yet, partly due to an unwillingness to go on to watch a bullfight even on paper, what with the very evocative writings of this author.
He truly brings alive the history of the continent, of the indigenous and their encounters with the invading marauders who assumed supremacy due to colour and size, the change over from a once flourishing civilization that not much is known now about, to one in constant state of flux with various military and other regimes and neighbours looking down on the nation that was once great in various achievements.
But reading this made one aware of much of the world that one is generally unlikely to know about, and the history is sometimes - often more often than not so, amazing; and then again a little off-putting in the concepts about bloodshed.
And then the fights themselves, while reading this I found an unasked question being answered, though it was not mentioned here - not as far as I read.
One always wonders why torture an innocent animal like this, one that can be far more useful and friendly too, unlike dangerous ones that can turn into human-hunters, although mostly even they do so usually by accident.
And I wondered if it was not a necessity of food, and the difficulty of killing a bull in prime without a fight, that began as a needful activity and turned into a spectator sport. Else it makes very little sense really.
Various people that go throwing paint on fur coats have not paid attention to this and other cruelty to animals on everyday basis is also due to this - it is easy to shout against a luxury of a few that kills a few animals, but difficult to protest against food of many. This is all the more so, especially when huge financial interests are involved, the butchers (who have taken to call themselves farmers, as if they and not the animals are responsible for the cattle reproduction, which is not a sowing and harvest, it is a mammal reproduction of the species) and the markets that sell and the chains that serve it.
So the protest against mink coats that makes no sense to a vegetarian might be really a token by an awakening mind and consciousness that nevertheless weighs carefully the consequences - if you protest against any chains serving burgers, you might be thrown in jail or worse, asylum; while throwing paint on a coat you couldn't afford anyway is treated lightly, the rich one might be induced to buy another one after all!
It is a fight they pick carefully, and do not even protest the leather shoes or bags or briefcases when those have become unnecessary. And of course those are the least of it all - if you are going to eat a huge quantity of animals in a culture what do you do with the leftovers? The least is leather goods manufacture, which in fact can be done even without the eating part - after all the animals are going to die one day, on their own.
It is far easier to protest killing of foxes in distant regions where their roaming is not a threat to your children and your pets and your barn animals.
October 15, 2008
............................................
December 9, 2010.
Finally one gets over the reluctance to go through a gory death or two, certainly of the innocent animals involved who are bred and brought up only so that they can be murdered for sport, never mind the honour of being mounted on walls of owners and breeders with pride about how they fought well, but also of the men involved in the killing of the animals, occasionally - after all it is an honourable way to kill the poor animals tricked into the arena to be killed, only with swords and other similar weapons rather than with a bullet at a distance safe enough for the killer.
Having sealed oneself to any sensibility of the gore involved, one proceeds to go through the rest of the book and it proves more rewarding with a history of Mexico along with the related parts of history of Spain, US, church, and so forth. It is a letdown to accidentally read the acknowledgement at the end to find that a good deal of it is "fiction" as stated by the writer, but then again, that is about specific people and names mentioned, including that of city of Toledo in Mexico. Other parts however are perfectly true, such as inquisition in Europe in general and Spain in particular. Palafoxes might be fiction, but burning of dissenters by church is as real and historical as bullfights or civil war of US.
That being the case, the initial uncanny feeling one gets while reading the history of Mexico, (with the history of its primitive and beastly nomadic tribals from northern parts creeping closer to and overtaking the far superior civilisation of the Builders who have grown too peaceful to resist the vicious onslaught due precisely to the vastly superior civilisation they have achieved - they have built, are peaceful, have civil administration, and other amenities and achievements more than comparable to any other of the period in the world - and the subsequent subjugation and massacre of the superior civilisation by the wilder tribes from north before the wild tribes settle down, adopt ways of the subjugated ones and absorb their culture and achievements and proceed to be civilised and build on top of the ruins they brought about), that it is all too similar enough to history of Asia (what with tribes of Mongolia and central Asia descending on India and reigning havoc with destruction and massacres before settling down and adopting much of Indian culture including superior buildings albeit built over the destroyed older ones), is all too easily explained after all. It is perhaps an coincidence of history after all, with similar events occurring clear across the world, but it is just as likely a history of another land written by someone more familiar with the more famous history of a much older civilisation overrun by tribes of Mongolia, central Asia, Arabia and then Europe, just as it happened perhaps in Mexico. The Goddess described by Michener with revulsion might be a fact of Mexican history, and then again his description might just be the reaction of Europe to images of Kaalie the Mother Goddess worshiped in India, a reaction that stems through a total absence of perception and comprehension. Certainly the description and the reaction is all too similar, with the difference of the thought that all such images stem from imagination rather than a greater perception of reality, for how could anyone with a more than feeble colour of visage and less than totally vicious lack of regard for others have any superiority of mind and spirit, goes the reasoning.
All this from a source that has historically brutal massacres of any dissenters merely for the reason of dissent, massacres held valid while dissent held abominable even now with usage of words and terminology describing the inquisition, the burning at stakes, the subjugation and conversion of other people, and so forth including enslaving of almost three continents and looting of their wealth while sneering at the people empoverished thereby. It is almost a vicious satire on the thinking of the dominant races that preach of their supposedly superior idols and the murders, massacres and slavery of others in the name of a philosophy of love and kindness, all the while boasting of their horror at idols of others who in fact are far more of the civilised and achieved people in terms of mind and spirit.
.....................................................
Europe had gunpowder - from China - while Mexico and southern civilisations had astronomy, architecture, and much more; the meeting of the two civilisations resulted in havoc reigned on the latter by the former. Admission of all this is covered with equivocation by the descriptions of human sacrifices by a fictional tribe in a fictional city and building of structures of civil society over an already established city while stealing its valuable minerals - silver in this case - in the book; much of the fiction is only fiction re specific names, while the general history is all too real, only taken from various sources in Mexico and perhaps subconsciously from Asia as well.
The greatest virtue of the book is in the fact that one wishes to go on reading about the history of Mexico and various other parts of the continent of what is so falsely termed "New World" - twenty thousand years of life in the continent, including nearly a millennia of familiarity to Nordic Europe what with Viking settlements in Canada and as far south as Boston, is hardly what one would call "new", unless compared to far more ancient civilisations of Asia such as India or China - and this even apart from the dismay at the discovery of the author's declaration that the specifics herein are "fiction". So next one finishes the other book, not declared fiction by the author of that one but on the contrary one that questions the popular and assiduously propagated versions of history, by Hancock.
One nice point is the beginning of a consciousness in humans of the brains of cattle with the fast learning ability, all too similar to humans; another is about the genealogical relationship of qualities received from the parents - physical abilities from father, courage from mother. Put the two together, it is not difficult to understand how those that live with cattle in harmony rather than a relationship of slavery have a regard for the cattle, brought about by the perceived and understood qualities of gentle and yet strong, courageous species with an ability to understand, an ability to learn and love and more, all too like humans. And if this perception is allowed to filter through the ego it has to lead to the destruction of misogyny - for a clear evidence of qualities of cows compared with bulls has to lead anyone not too stupid to question if the inferiority of the human female is not an invention of male institutions of church and other sort to subjugate and enslave half of humanity for selfish purposes rather than an actual perception of qualities and differences thereof.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Templar Legacy: by Steve Berry.
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.
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.
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)
.........................................
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)
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.
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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.
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