Category: Books

  • Thoughts on how we “read”.

    As I was outside on the deck yesterday, brushing and pressing stain into the rough-hewn siding that is the lower part of the privacy fence on the more public side of our deck, I started thinking about reading and the various forms that the words "reading" and "book" are taking in modern life.

    What am I talking about?  I refer to the audiobook, the digital reader such as Amazon's Kindle, and the plain old fashioned book on paper.

    I admit I am a lover of books.  There are a couple of thousand books floating around my house and I love them and I struggle occasionally with the idea that I don't really need to keep so many books.  But I do often go back and flip through them and read occasional pages.  Many books are read and reread in their entirety.  These books are like friends, offering new insights with each reading.  But most of them are not rare and I could theoretically get them from the library.  Many of them are products of their time and are not necessarily available on a whim.  Perhaps I have them because I like being able to call on them when inspiration calls.  But I also like their physical presence.  I like curling up with a book.  I like feeling the paper in my hands.  When I want to go back to a particular passage, I tend to remember the section or chapter which contains the passage, but I also tend to remember its position on the page.  But that kind of memory is unreliable.  Position on a page is different for each edition of a book, each iteration of which may be shorter or longer, larger or smaller than the copy I read.

    Perhaps because I am such a lover of reading for its own sake, I have never really adapted to audiobooks, although I have friends who love them and plow through them in great numbers.  I know people who listen while they drive, clean house, work out, commute to work etc and etc.  Personally I am too easily distracted to listen to a book and drive.  Popular music is good for the car because I really only half listen, but for me at least, a book might be too distracting.  I would either lose the content of the book or lose track of what I was doing, which is quite dangerous.  But I do listen to audiobooks.  I was listening to a book while I was painting.  I have listened to books on the train to NYC while I knitted, and I listen when I am in the yard weeding or doing other simple mindless tasks.  I listen if I am walking on a treadmill, but not if I am walking outdoors along the wooded path near my house.  Walking in the woods requires its own contemplative silence.  But I don't sit and listen to audiobooks.  I can read many times faster than I can listen to anything, and given my choice I would rather read. 

    We as humans have a long history of listening to tales and stories.  After all, before the printing press most people could not read, the transmission of history, poetry, religion,and story was all oral.  People would listen to favorite tales and stories over and over and commit them to memory.  In some sense, having a book on paper allows to absorb more and perhaps remember less.  After all we can always find the poem or passage that struck us as so meaningful.  Perhaps in some sense a book acts as an external memory device.  If there were no books, we would have to commit everything worth knowing to memory and that would limit the amount we could know.  So books have helped advance civilization and society.  Perhaps audiobooks advance it yet another way in that they allow us to "multi-task" and "read" while we are doing something else, like painting the deck. In that sense I can see how they are a good thing.  But I can't really relate them in my mind to books.  It is not as easy to go back to a favorite passage.  If I listen to a book that is of the moment I am happy.  Otherwise, if I perceive the book as having more lasting value, I still need, or at least want, to own a copy that I can refer back to and look up passages and read and read again.   And of course there are those books that require complete attention whether one is reading or listening.  In those cases I prefer a book, again because it is easier to go back and read and reread important passages.  So I guess I see audiobooks as a supplement to reading, a way to expand horizons and knowledge, but not really a replacement for books.  They serve a purpose and are quite useful.  After how much of what is read is really of permanent interest or value anyway?

    Perhaps I am giving the audiobook short shrift.  It is perfect for certain situation.  I would rather borrow or buy an audiobook than buy a paperbound book that is destined to be tossed when I am done; and I am not so naive as to believe that all the books bought and sold in this country are recycled and reused.  Have I missed something important?  Please, if you see it differently let me know.

    And then there is the digital book.  I adore my Kindle.  It was pretty much love at first sight and I continue to find reading it compelling.  There is that instant gratification aspect of the kindle, the way I can read a review of a book and with luck it is in my hand a few seconds later.    A kindle is also small and portable and about the size of a paperback book.  It is not too heavy to read in bed, or on the exercise bicycle like some hard cover books.  If one is interrupted by the telephone or the voice of a loved one, one don't fumble to save the page.  The Kindle always remembers.    The kindle will hold many books and storing digital books is far less space intensive that physical cloth and paper books. I can mark passages of note and automatically upload them into a word document without having to write them out by hand in a journal or type them into my computer, saving time.  With its variable fonts I can set the type size on my kindle so it is perfect for me.  I am never moving the book further or closer, or trying to peer below my bifocals or get the print perfectly in focus.  I even prefer reading the newspaper on the Kindle.  Best of all, I can curl up with a Kindle anywhere.

    For all that I adore books, I am increasingly thinking that digital books are a fabulous resource.  This technology seems somewhat primitive though in some ways.  Amazon has a kind of digital location to mark the position of text in a Kindle book.  But this does not relate in any way that I can ascertain to other books.  Google is digitizing books.  There are online sources for digital versions of profosseional, academic, and scientific journals.  Perhaps I am being incredibly naive and hopeful but having access to the world of books in digital form seems very promising and empowering.  What if there were some universal library that everyone could access?  What if there were some standard reference point for locating positions of text in various media?  I can imagine reading a book in my Kindle and immediately being able to access he authors reference materials and expand my reading if I wished to do so.  This will perhaps be a long time in coming.  But it seems like the promise could and should be there.

    In the meantime, there are lots of books that don't need to be savored and reread.  These are perfect for the Kindle.  Reading a new novel, a book about current events, even a newspaper is immediate and compelling.  Perhaps devices like the Kindle might revolutionize reading.  After all, it has been done before.  Gutenberg revolutionized how books and knowledge were created, read, and accessed.  Perhaps we are due for a new revolution.   

    Talking to G the other day I realized that there could be a perfect confluence of visual and audio use of books.  Audiobooks can bring books to the blind for example and also to the elderly.  G often complains that he cannot read as long as he used to.  He hasn't really adapted to the Kindle yet, and he doesn't find the mechanical voice of the Kindle's audio facility easy to understand.  But I think there is hope here.  I can currently read a book on my kindle or on my Itouch.  I can read it or listen to it.  I wonder if there is a hope of  a perfect world where one can read a book or listen to it, picking it up at will, switching between mediums as needed, and always being able to coordinate one's location and communicate this to others.  That may be too much of a dream.

    And by the way, I don't think books will disappear for a long long time.  There will be those who love books for their own sakes, those who collect books.  But most readers don't save or collect the books they read.  Most books are not printed on quality paper, most books are not made to last, and most don't have any lasting value.   

    If a device like the kindle encourages reading and makes it more compelling and immediate for more people, we have made an advancement.  The important thing is not the paper itself, but the content, information, and wisdom that has been transferred and saved.  If the goal is a literate society, all of these improvements should only help everyone achieve that goal.

  • Yesterday

    IMG_0475 Yesterday was the first truly warm, sandal-worthy, day of spring.  We took full advantage of it having a leisurely of frippery, frivolity, and function.

    Yesterday was also the day the maples leafed out and as we drove around town the full glory of spring was unfurled around us.  The light yellow green near transparence of new leaves almost thickening before our eyes and dancing in the sunlight was almost magical.  The magnolias were thick with blossoms.  The daffodils are everywhere, yellow and white and cheery, dancing in the sun.  A few early tulips are up but not chez dooney.  I don't seem to have any of the early tulips this year, an oversight I am sure, although I do tend to prefer the more exotic later varieties.

    A minor note of interest.  I have lived here for almost 30 years.  For most of that time the maples fully leafed out consistently on May 2 or 3.  You could count on that like you could count on the day that ice would first cover the Hudson.  Neither of those "old" dates hold true anymore.  Leaf day has been creeping forward, first toward May 1st, then gradually a few days earlier.  The last two years it was nearly a week early, but this year the leaves suddenly opened on April 24,  a full 9 days early.

    Yesterday I finished reading Gwen Ifill's book "The Breakthrough".  I enjoyed reading it, and I learned a few things about politicians I knew nothing about.  Her portraits were insightful and she was able to capture the quality of each politician she discussed in a way that made them memorable.  Ms. Ifill's prose is just like her voice on "The Newshour": fair, direct, and to the point.  As I read I could imagine her speaking. The book reads like a series of interviews with a varied and interesting group of black politicians who show much of the change, variation, and conflict taking place in politics today. I think I personally would have liked a little more analysis, but then again, analysis is dry and it is really to early to determine what any of this "means". Ms. Ifill is a journalist not an analyst.   There is a lot to think about in these profiles of the changing face of politics. It was a good, timely book, but not something I will come back to or read again.

    Yesterday I went back on antihistamines after a week's reprieve.  And I fell asleep to quickly to read any  poems of Christopher Middleton.  This volume of poetry has provided us with a lovely bedtime ritual, a poem or two or three before bed; read aloud, discussed, savored, shared.  Tonight we shall have a poem before we "slumber in our sleep" to quote my Grandpa.
  • Book update

    IMG_0470 True evidence of spring is not just in the flowers, the budding leaves on the trees, the lovely smell of wet dirt after a long winter, but in the appearance of the first spring produce.

    The first leaves of mache are up as well as sorrel and ramps.  We picked up our first local ramps of the season at the market on Friday.  We also enjoyed our first soft-shell crabs although there are no pictures of those.

    Otherwise I am reveling in being able to do things and catch up with things that have been left languishing.  I am also truly enjoying having the time and attention to read.

    I finished Fallen Founder for the second time and truly enjoyed it this time around.  I think I enjoyed it the first time but I also think that I was too frazzled and concerned with other things and did not really pay attention.  I know there were several other books at that time that I picked up and just never finished, not because I wasn't interested in them, but because  I had little focus.

    I recognize that I do not have the mind-set of a scholar, and I am really not interested in reviewing books either, there are so many others who do that better than I.  But I really enjoyed reading this book, it was gripping at times, and interesting to read and I think it was a fairly fair portrait of Aaron Burr.   It was quite fascinating to read about Burr and his interactions with the other founding fathers of our country and to see think about them not just as these great men, but as people with their own foibles and follies just like us.  Politics was no different then than now, or as Nancy Isenberg says on page 311, "Partisan politics were deeply personal — and often irrational".  I suppose longing for more reasonable intercourse between politicians is merely a pipe-dream.

    I am currently reading two books that capitalize on current political and economic realities and they are both fun, interesting reads.  I downloaded The House of Dimon to my Kindle right after reading a review of it and I am truly enjoying it.  Patricia Crisafulli's writing is a bit breathless, but I suppose that is fitting for the financial turmoil and times with which she concerns herself in this book.  I am also finding that the Kindle a rather compelling way to read.  I like that I can have several books and it marks my place; it is the perfect size to carry around, you can put it down without worrying about loosing your place, and I can set the type size to be perfect for just about any situation.  The fact that I got a book I wanted to read instantly didn't hurt either.

    I am also reading The Breakthrough by Gwen Ifill and it is interesting and I am learning things I didn't know and looking at contemporary politics a little bit differently, from a bit of a different vantage point.  Whereas Patricia Crisafulli's book is interesting just because it is about a person who is in the thick of things now, Gwen Ifill's book is more general and leads me to longer periods of reflection.  Gwen Ifill writes like the journalist she is, and her words on the page sound just like she was uttering them on The News Hour or Washington Week.  As I read I can imagine her sitting there and talking to me.  I wonder if she reads the audiobook version of this book.  That would be very interesting.

  • Rainy Day Post

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    Rain, Rain, Rain.

    That seems to be the pattern so far this spring, a day of rain followed by a day of full or partial sunshine followed by more rain.  In one sense this is nice as it gives my poor achy muscles time to recuperate from their time in the yard.  

    In another sense it is annoying.  I would like to paint the deck during the cool spring weather but I need more than one clear day. 

    But still, spring is progressing and the weather, when it is not raining, is delightful.  I love being out working in the yard even if I pay for it in the evenings.  It seems that the consequences of not letting the yard go wild for two full seasons following two seasons of only partial work due to workmen, has taken a toll on more than just my flower beds and landscaping.  My body is also feeling the pain of being whipped back into shape. At 50 it is not as easy as it once was.

    It appears that I was wise not to get to ambitious with plans for the vegetable garden because facing that mass of weeds, shrubs and trees that have taken over that spot makes me feel something like a very small David attempting to slay Goliath, except that in my case a simple sling-shot will not do the job.  The peas aren't in yet.  With luck and good weather they may be my next weekend.  And so much work is needed that I am practically starting from scratch all over again.  The thought that I could use the existing garden beds without much work was really just fantasy.  There is too much work involved, and I need, for my own peace of mind, to have pretty things in front of the house to greet me every day. Repair and replanting the front beds will take first priority.

    I had a lovely day cleaning out flower beds, seeing what has survived (so far) and removing a few weeds who were hoping to get an early start.  There is also a colony of Sumac seedlings, now really strapping adolescents to deal with.  It amazes me how the Sumac always decides to come up right in the little gaps in the middle of a iris rhizome, so that it is somewhat tricky for me to extricate the invader without damaging or relocating the desirable bulb.  

    Today however it is raining and we have spent some time inside with books.

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    I picked up the book of poetry I had been reading a while back, but had abandoned due to lack of concentration, the Collected Poems, by Christopher Middleton and was happy to sit and read, contemplating the poems, while looking out at the rain and fog.  I continue to find some the references to German literature and authors incomprehensible, but that is due to my own ignorance.  I am still reading the fairly early poems, and I still find some obscure and forced. But I am getting more of a feel for the irony and wry humor of many of the poems, of the rather philosophical bent, and the occasional bits of pure beauty. 

    Above  is the view from the living room sofa.  The large barge spent the night and had just finished turning around, probably to accommodate the change in tides.  The tug is hidden now at the far right hand side of the photo, just beyond the corner of the house.

    These rainy days are good for me in that they remind me to slow down and enjoy life.  They remind me of the pleasures of whiling away the day in the company of my husband.  They remind me not to get carried away with my plans and visions of what could be and what I might accomplish.  Plans and visions are all good, but it is too easy to get wrapped up in the doing and forget to take time just for the living.

    I also went to the gym today and finished my short book by Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running,  which I really enjoyed.  I actually think Murakami helped me hook back into my enjoyment of the monotony of my exercise regime.  I started a new book as well, I was very near the end, another historical fiction:  The Boleyn Inheritance. Really, I am always a sucker for books set in or about Tudor and Elizabethan England.  It should see me through many a happy mile.
  • The Birthday Present

    I took myself to bed this afternoon and finished The Birthday Present by Barbara Vine.

    Birthday PresentInitially, I thought it was not my favorite of Vine's books, but the further I get from having finished the novel the more I revise my sentiments.  Vine is the more "literary" voice of Ruth Rendell.  Now I love Rendell's novels as much as I love Vine, but they serve completely different purposes in my reading life.  Rendell is perfect for the genre of popular fiction I call "bicycle books", those books that don't occupy my full attention while reading but move along just fast enough to keep me going on an exercise bicycle.  I have been through a few bicycle books, the past month, most recently some James Patterson and Stuart Woods.

    But back to The Birthday Present.  The detached style reminded me more of Rendell than Vine's past novels but actually this novel seems to be quite a departure for the author, writing under any guise. In fact, I think this is what initially gave me pause.  If one picks up the book expecting a typical Barbara Vine, or even a typical Ruth Rendell, one is in for a surprise as it is neither.  And yet, once I settled into the pace of the book and the voices of its narrators, I found it quite compelling and beautifully written.  

    It is more of a political analysis than a thriller, and there is really no mystery except for how it will all end up.  

    Actually I found the book quite compelling and a bit disturbing and unsettling as well. It is not unsettling because of the depths of human depravity and psychology it reveals but more because there really is no great depravity here but just normal human emotions, sometimes pushed beyond normal expectations.  In typical Vine fashion, the character one most expects to feel sympathy for is the one that is most despised by the end of it all.  And the character who began as the most callous is in the end the most sympathetic.

    In the end this is the Vine book that I think will have the most longevity in the memory.  After the initial disappointment that it does not fit the expected formula,  it may be the one that worms its way most into the consciousness, and the one that most deserves to be re-read.

  • French Girl Knits

    Aack!

    The posts keep piling up in my head but I am having a certain amount of difficulty (pure laziness) making that transition from thought to actual post.

    I received the new book, French Girl Knits, last Tuesday, a week ago now.  And actually I suppose I am glad that I waited before writing anything about it.

    FrenchGirl1
    I suppose my first impression was that it was interesting but much of it was not my cup of tea, which is actually my opinion of several of the French Girl patterns.  There are a few that I love and more that are lovely but just not my style. The sweaters are beautiful but I feel they tend to be a little too frilly and feminine for me.  There were several sweaters I loved but was not convinced I would wear, I have changed my mind about some of those.  And there are a couple I adore but would never wear out in public, but that doesn't mean I would never wear them.  I am rather fond of soft feminine things to wear in the evening at home, as long as they are feminine but not frilly.

    FrenchGirl7
    But the more I looked, the more enamored I became of this book.  To begin with there are a couple of patterns which I outright loved on first sight, one of them being the cover sweater, shown above and this wonderful cropped cotton sweater with the buckle closure.

    There are other sweaters of course, sweaters that are lovely and are growing on me more slowly. They are classically beautiful and wearable.

    But even more appealing is the attention to technique. There is much to learn from this book.   Most of the sweaters employ seamless construction and there is all kinds of useful information in the book about knitting and construction techniques as well as fitting and how to get a sweater that is perfect. 
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    FrenchGirl5
    Now both of these sweaters are just lovely and would look attractive on me or many other people.  I am particularly drawn to the one shown in beige, but the lacy dark one is slowly worming its way into my heart as well.  They are both knitted without seams.  
    The beige sweater, called Paloma, is knitted from the top down.  In the other sweater, Niobe, the sleeves and body are worked separately from the bottom up (in the round) where they are joined at the armholes.  

    And there are others that I also love, two that I mentioned earlier that struck me as perfect lounge-wear and another that has a very strong 20's feel.  I have always had a weakness for the 20's, although I probably can't wear the styles anymore.  

    The book is definitely a keeper.

  • First Book

    The book was good.  It was well argued and interesting although perhaps a little dense at times, and dry and academic as well, not that those are necessarily bad qualities.  Caplan's argument, that most votors are irrational rather than ignorant is compelling.  It is an interesting book to read in this interesting time.  I suppose according to Caplan all elections are interesting times in terms of voter irrationality. I think he misses some key points but the book remains thought provoking. And I believe that human irrationality is not something one can discount or eliminate.   

    I had this book before the last election but did not get around to reading it until now.  No mind.  Signs of irrationality are everywhere. But then again, that is exactly what makes humanity, and the governance of humanity so interesting, and no one has ever accused me of being overly rational. 
  • Goodbye 2008

    IMG_0035
    We closed the year with a quiet, snowy day. We had no reason to go anywhere and were content to sit at home and watch the snow.

    I sorted through sewing patterns, played with my new camera and read, finishing up two of the books on my current pile: Sointula was beautifully written and enjoyable even thought it was at times rather fantastic and the characters were difficult at best.   Traffic  was full of interesting facts and tidbits of information but was ultimately of the moment and entirely forgettable. .

    Luckily the skies cleared just before sunset, giving me a chance to play with my new camera and providing a suitably lovely closing for the year.
  • Thoughts after reading THE BIG SORT

    I just finished reading The Big Sort by Bill Bishop
    and it has been running around my head like some kind of ball bouncing off the
    walls. Occasionally this ball seems to hit me in the head, knocking me down,
    which only serves to give the ball of my thoughts more momentum and begin the
    process all over again.

     

    I learned all kinds of interesting little facts that
    were new to me although some of them were obvious once I started thinking about
    lifestyles and people and the mobility of modern society.  Some of them, like the information
    about child rearing  priorities,
    which
    Grace posted, make perfect sense, but wouldn’t have occurred to me
    before.

     

    But it is not these facts that cause my
    discomfort.   I am
    uncomfortable about this whole process of social segregation, which also
    becomes a political and ideological segregation even as I myself see myself
    easily slipping into a particular part of the divide.  Even as I read the statistics and accept
    that the more educated people are the more liberal they tend to become, even as
    I lean toward those liberal enclaves and would be very happy with certain
    aspects of the lifestyle that draws and attracts many of the bright,
    interesting, open-minded people, even as I know that once one finds oneself in
    a group of likeminded people one becomes more extreme as the group become a
    little more extreme (liberal or conservative), even as I agree with people’s
    choices and why they make them and think that I would and might still make some
    of the same choices,  I find myself
    quite uneasy with the very idea of segregating ourselves into like-minded
    communities.

     

    Somewhere in the book Bishop notes that the more
    educated people are the LESS likely they are to be able to tolerate discussing
    politics with someone with opposing beliefs.

     

    Herein lies the root of my discomfort.

     

    Perhaps a little history is in order:

    Once upon a time there was a young girl who left a
    small town in Texas to go “East” to school.  She came from a fairly conservative place, although there
    were both Democrats and Republicans in her family’s immediate circle of friends.  But there was a barrier in the town
    between the politics of the local university and the politics of the town
    itself. 

     

    This girl was already chafing at the boundaries of
    thought and acceptance at home, and although she realized that her thoughts and
    beliefs were highly influenced by her upbringing, she was eager to begin seeing
    and learning more.  Already she was
    appalled at how comfortable people were in their narrow set of beliefs, and how
    closed they were to new ideas or different views of the world. She wanted to go
    to a place where she believed that people would look at all the information,
    discuss ideas openly and rationally and perhaps come to some kind of reasoned
    belief that perhaps stemmed from equal consideration of opposing views.  The woman I have become sees that this
    girl who was once myself was incredibly naive.

     

    This young girl went to her liberal-arts college,
    which is indeed quite liberal, and although she became more liberal herself (which
    would have happened anyway) she was quite shocked and disillusioned to learn
    that liberals could be just as closed minded as conservatives.  She learned that truly impartial
    inquiry with the desire to learn the truth is an exceedingly rare thing in this
    life.  She learned that most people
    gravitate to tribes, and having chosen their group they embrace its tenets
    wholesale and whole-heartedly, without necessary questioning the
    transition.  Of course she
    recognized that true open-mindedness was difficult, and that all people develop
    biases and assumptions based on their upbringing, biases which are often
    unrecognized, but she still hoped that she, and others like her, would try, at
    least occasionally, to cross the divide of difference and reach some understanding.

     

    This book reminds me of an episode from the end of my
    college years.  That liberal arts
    college was Vassar College and my senior year there was a bit of an uproar over
    the commencement speaker. 
    Apparently a questionnaire had been sent out asking the class to
    vote.  Not many students responded,
    and of those that had, more had voted for William F. Buckley Jr. than any other
    prospective speaker.  When it came
    to light, much later in the year, that Mr. Buckley would be our speaker my
    class revolted.  A petition was
    signed with the intention of un-inviting the commencement speaker.  Many were outraged.  They were appalled that their liberal
    ears might have to hear words spoken by a pillar of conservatism.

     

    I too was appalled.  I did not sign the petition.  I was shocked that a group of highly intelligent people,
    people who supposedly had been educated to read and listen critically, to
    cipher-out and discern truth, could be so afraid of what one conservative man
    might say that they were unwilling to listen to him.   Even if most of the class had not voted for Mr.
    Buckley, I felt they should accept the responsibility and listen to what he had
    to say.  After all those who did
    not vote were equally as responsible as those who did, by abdicating their role
    in the selection process they were accepting the choice of those who did vote.

     

    In the end, Mr. Buckley did not speak.  He withdrew; making a comment that my
    classmates (myself included by association) were “ferocious illiterates”, once
    again proving that childish partisanship was the norm.  To my mind that epithet was a slap in
    the face, symbolizing as it did the failure of rational intelligent human
    beings to behave in a rational, intelligent and civil manner.  To many of my classmates it was a badge
    of honor.

     

    The segregation of society makes the extremes all the
    more powerful.  I consider myself
    fortunate to live in a place that is pretty equally divided between Democrat
    and Republican, where the differences between “sides” in any election is a
    matter of a few percentage points. 
    The battles seem to be becoming increasingly bloody, but it is still
    possible to find many people along the long fence that is the middle.   I consider myself fortunate to
    have friends on both sides of that line, although I recognize that many of my Republican
    friends are truly moderates in many ways and are dinosaurs in their own
    party.   There is no place for the pro-choice Republican who drives a
    Prius in this world.  And the world
    is a smaller place because of this.

     

    This is what truly saddens me, the loss of the
    middle, the idea that life and culture has to be lived in black and white, with
    even divisions between us and them, right and wrong, good and evil, liberal and
    conservative.  I mourn the loss of
    the independent thinker.  I mourn
    the loss of the idea that there is a commonality that binds people.  Even as I know that I would fall on the
    clearly educated, liberal side of this divide, and even as I know that I don’t
    really want to live with bible-thumping, child-spanking, close-minded
    neighbors, I mourn the fact that we are pushing ourselves further and further
    apart.

     

    Extremes of any sort have always made me
    nervous.  They still do.  They make me nervous even as I see that
    my own inclinations make me a part of the divide.  But the divide here isn’t about politics; politics are
    merely a symptom.  Are we becoming
    a nation of haves and have-nots, of the educated upwardly mobile and the less educated
    and downwardly mobile?  Is this
    what we want?  Do the educated have
    some responsibility to the rest of the population of the country?   There will always be variations
    in intelligence, wealth, and standing in any society.  But are we replacing a society of nobility and serfdom with a
    society of paternalistic intellectual elite who peer down upon those on the
    “less-enlightened” side of the divide?

     

    I enjoy the fruits of living in a society and an age
    where I can chose where I live and the kind of people I live with.  But I fear the psychology of groups and
    I fear that even a society of educated, thoughtful people, can forget to
    question their assumptions.  

  • Vanity, Vanity, All is Vanity

    You probably noticed the two new links on the sidebar.

    Some time ago I received an email from a friend asking me if I was aware of Goodreads.  At the time I was in the middle of an internal argument about books, libraries, and lists of books read and unread.  The lists of books on the sidebar grew too long and tedious but if I removed them from the sidebar they would be harder to access.  Of course, it would have made sense to make an annual post on books read but I had never quite managed to do that, and I was wrapped up in my internal dialog about whether or not posting the list was valuable or important or just an exercise in meaningless vanity.

    I always have this weakness about lists.  I love lists.  I love to do lists, lists of books to read, things to do, places to go, lists of things I have done.  But another part of me wonders about the point and questions my motives.  Why do I need a list of books I have read?  

    Do I need a list so I can remember what I have read? Well, yes it is true that occasionally I forget I have read a book and it might be nice to know I already read it. Of course if I have forgotten reading a book it can't hurt me to read it again.  Usually this happens with silly popular fiction books which are eminently forgetable anyway. 

    Do I need a list to prove something?  Obviously that is a complex question as there is no reason to write a review, keep a blog, post books one has read to an internet list, or review them in any public forum if there is not some desire for sharing, showing-off, or perhaps just finding like-minded readers.

    Does rating a book and writing a review help me coalesce my own thoughts on the book?  If so something like Goodreads provides one place to keep all this information, rather than the random collection of books and journals that have served over the years.

    Despite my misgivings I jumped right in and started entering my lists.   This encouraged me to finally go back to entering my Library on LibraryThing. 

    So what have I learned?

    I like goodreads for lists of books read and to be read as separate entities from books I actually own.  Although I have read most of the books I own, there are many books I have read but don't chose to own.

    * I find the rating system to be frustrating, if not meaningless.  Since I don't keep every book  I read, it is likely that books I own would be highly rated.  Now there are some books that I own which are not, on an objective basis, all that good, but even so I have saved them for a reason and this may affect the ratings.  Even with books I have read but don't own, I can't say that I used the same standards to rate all books.  I am not a professional critic, I am not really interested in critically reviewing most books.  My ratings are subjective and based on my enjoyment of the book, not necessarily the quality of the writing.  But sometimes the quality of the writing, or lack thereof does affect my rating.  Sometimes I can get all intrigued with the technique of the writing, especially if the author is trying something daring or difficult.  I may rate this work highly even if the author is not completely successful in his/her attempt.

    * I do remember all the books I have read, often more clearly than I wold have thought.

    * I am not good at reviewing books.  It takes me sometime to put my thoughts about a book in words and even then I am not good at pointing out what I liked and why I liked it.  I have let myself get too soft through the head.  I never claimed to be or wanted to be an academic.  I am far more interested in my reaction to and enjoyment of a book than it's objective merits.  But I would like to be able explain what I like and why and I find this quite difficult.
    The book lists on the sidebar will disappear by the end of the year.