Book reviews
Catching up with some book reviews -
The Lathe of Heaven
Ursula Le Guin, p.184.
I really liked the premise of this book: a man dreams reality into existence. The trouble is, he doesn't have any control over it, and his dreams take on decidedly strange aspects, bringing random things into (and pushing others out of) existence. He does the only thing he can think of: he drugs himself into not sleeping. This results in increasing psychoses, until he finally ends up with a psychiatrist - who makes him lucid dream...
I loved the premsie of this book much as I love the premise of most of Le Guin's books, but was less involved in the characters. It felt more like a 'concept' book than a 'relationships' book to me, even though the entire book revolves around the protagonist's relationships with his psychiatrist and his lawyer, and his desperate attempts to change them. It's for these reasons that I didn't feel as involved as I felt with Le Guin's other work. I enjoyed the book, and I felt it was clever and thought-provoking, but ultimately had no personal stake in the characters and would have been satisfied with any logical ending. The only thing that gave me any emotional reaction was the suggestion that the world had actually ended several years in the past, and this new alternate world had actually be dreamed into existence by a dying man... it had a certain level of pathos and horror to it that really appealed to me.
I'd recommend this to others, but ultimately probably won't be re-reading it myself.
*
Bad Science
Ben Goldacre, p. 321
Want to know how the hell the papers always seem to have a new study proving that X causes cancer, or that Y is good for you? Ben Goldacre debunks and demystifes a bunch of stuff I half-knew already, but didn't necessarily bear in mind when reading the papers. Coming to this book from an economics background meant that I brought a certain amount of understanding of statistcs, and so was already sceptical in certain areas. Goldacre still manages to unearth plenty of areas where my assumed knowledge is bamboozled by pseudo-science and pseudo-stats in the media and everyday life, which was interesting and refreshing. Key points: don't confuse mean, median and mode; causality is NOT the same as correlation (and I have one of my old statistics projects to prove it); the media cherry-picks liek whoa; observational studies suck medicinal ass.
If you haven't read Goldacre's column - or even if you have - this will be an interesting read. If you have any stats background, go remind yourself of the stuff you should already know (but probably forget when reading the paper at breakfast). Cracking stuff.
*
Living Dolls: the return of sexism
Natasha Walter, p. 238
One of the problems I have with modern feminist thought is that so much of it is American. Some of that assumes that 'American=universal', but even if it doesn't, it's still a perspective and a context very different from what I am familiar with, and it is difficult to take the thoughts and points outside of an academic context. Walter offers a refreshing alternative by providing a ‘British’ perspective. And by 'British', I think she means white, middle-class, English, so yes, it’s also very limited. But she makes no mis-representations to the contrary, and I seem to be part of her target audience, so it makes sense that I would agree with her on a lot of stuff. Walter talks about the growing sexualisation of British society - from Nuts and Zoo to Lolita beds in Woolies to Secret Diary of a Call Girl - and although I don't agree with all of it she makes damn good points. She also looks at trends over the last ten years (and this book came out about three seconds ago so it is all up-to-date stats) and looks at how the things we identified as 'good' a decade ago turned out to not be quite so rosy.
There are some down side. As I said, Walter's Britain appears to be white, middle-class and English, which frankly rules out a lot of the population. It would have been interesting to see the multiculturalist aspects brought to bear on her argument that mainstream sexualisation of women in all areas of life has resulted in a deterioration of conditions for women. As it is, I am left wondering if the main losers in Walter's account aren't a privileged subset who aren't quite so privileged anymore. Le féminisme est mort ! - but that's no bones to those who were excluded from it in the first place.
All in all, and interesting and location-specific perspective, but it could have been much more interesting if it had been just a little bit braver.
*
Pompeii: The Life of a Roman Town
Mary Beard, p.316
Mary Beard's account of life in Pompeii (as opposed to the modern city of Pompei) is engaging and colourful. I think I got the most out of the book by reading it while I was actually visiting Pompeii, which made my visit and my reading more pleasant. The whole range of Roman (or more accurately Pompeiian) life is covered, from work to sex to religion, centred on different sites around the scavi. The book also has an impressive number of illustrative pictures, both as colour plates and as black and white line drawings and photos throughout, which really assist with such a visual subject. I'd imagine that I would still get a lot out of this book even reading it away from the city, but the timing of the reading definitely allowed it to shine.
*
Marie Antionette: The Journey
Antonia Fraser, p.548
Antonia Fraser does a good job of bringing to sympathetic life a figure I wasn't too certain I would enjoy reading an entire book on. I had been recommended this particular author by queenspanky and I knew that the Kirsten Dunst film was based on this version of events, but I was still a little uncertain if this would retain my interest throughout. I have an academic background in German history, but similar attempts to enlarge my knowledge of French history failed miserably as I nodded off in the middle of the French Wars of Religion. So I wasn't certain whether I would simply lose interest partly through this book. Happily, it remained strongly written throughout, which was definitely the main criteria for me. M.A.'s life was interesting enough by itself, but the author also delves into the lives of her close circle and extended family, which helps to form a picture of her as a person in context, rather than floating in isolation, or perhaps just her husband and children (which is what frustrated me about the film, incidentally - I was not one of those upset by the shoes and cakes, but by the lack of speaking parts for the Princesse de Lamballe and the Duchesse de Polignac!).
I found this book interesting, engaging reading, and am seriously tempted to attempt some C18th RPF historical fiction. This is going in my 'will re-read' pile.
This entry was originally posted at DreamWidth. There are
comments there. Comments are welcome at either journal.
The Lathe of Heaven
Ursula Le Guin, p.184.
I really liked the premise of this book: a man dreams reality into existence. The trouble is, he doesn't have any control over it, and his dreams take on decidedly strange aspects, bringing random things into (and pushing others out of) existence. He does the only thing he can think of: he drugs himself into not sleeping. This results in increasing psychoses, until he finally ends up with a psychiatrist - who makes him lucid dream...
I loved the premsie of this book much as I love the premise of most of Le Guin's books, but was less involved in the characters. It felt more like a 'concept' book than a 'relationships' book to me, even though the entire book revolves around the protagonist's relationships with his psychiatrist and his lawyer, and his desperate attempts to change them. It's for these reasons that I didn't feel as involved as I felt with Le Guin's other work. I enjoyed the book, and I felt it was clever and thought-provoking, but ultimately had no personal stake in the characters and would have been satisfied with any logical ending. The only thing that gave me any emotional reaction was the suggestion that the world had actually ended several years in the past, and this new alternate world had actually be dreamed into existence by a dying man... it had a certain level of pathos and horror to it that really appealed to me.
I'd recommend this to others, but ultimately probably won't be re-reading it myself.
*
Bad Science
Ben Goldacre, p. 321
Want to know how the hell the papers always seem to have a new study proving that X causes cancer, or that Y is good for you? Ben Goldacre debunks and demystifes a bunch of stuff I half-knew already, but didn't necessarily bear in mind when reading the papers. Coming to this book from an economics background meant that I brought a certain amount of understanding of statistcs, and so was already sceptical in certain areas. Goldacre still manages to unearth plenty of areas where my assumed knowledge is bamboozled by pseudo-science and pseudo-stats in the media and everyday life, which was interesting and refreshing. Key points: don't confuse mean, median and mode; causality is NOT the same as correlation (and I have one of my old statistics projects to prove it); the media cherry-picks liek whoa; observational studies suck medicinal ass.
If you haven't read Goldacre's column - or even if you have - this will be an interesting read. If you have any stats background, go remind yourself of the stuff you should already know (but probably forget when reading the paper at breakfast). Cracking stuff.
*
Living Dolls: the return of sexism
Natasha Walter, p. 238
One of the problems I have with modern feminist thought is that so much of it is American. Some of that assumes that 'American=universal', but even if it doesn't, it's still a perspective and a context very different from what I am familiar with, and it is difficult to take the thoughts and points outside of an academic context. Walter offers a refreshing alternative by providing a ‘British’ perspective. And by 'British', I think she means white, middle-class, English, so yes, it’s also very limited. But she makes no mis-representations to the contrary, and I seem to be part of her target audience, so it makes sense that I would agree with her on a lot of stuff. Walter talks about the growing sexualisation of British society - from Nuts and Zoo to Lolita beds in Woolies to Secret Diary of a Call Girl - and although I don't agree with all of it she makes damn good points. She also looks at trends over the last ten years (and this book came out about three seconds ago so it is all up-to-date stats) and looks at how the things we identified as 'good' a decade ago turned out to not be quite so rosy.
There are some down side. As I said, Walter's Britain appears to be white, middle-class and English, which frankly rules out a lot of the population. It would have been interesting to see the multiculturalist aspects brought to bear on her argument that mainstream sexualisation of women in all areas of life has resulted in a deterioration of conditions for women. As it is, I am left wondering if the main losers in Walter's account aren't a privileged subset who aren't quite so privileged anymore. Le féminisme est mort ! - but that's no bones to those who were excluded from it in the first place.
All in all, and interesting and location-specific perspective, but it could have been much more interesting if it had been just a little bit braver.
*
Pompeii: The Life of a Roman Town
Mary Beard, p.316
Mary Beard's account of life in Pompeii (as opposed to the modern city of Pompei) is engaging and colourful. I think I got the most out of the book by reading it while I was actually visiting Pompeii, which made my visit and my reading more pleasant. The whole range of Roman (or more accurately Pompeiian) life is covered, from work to sex to religion, centred on different sites around the scavi. The book also has an impressive number of illustrative pictures, both as colour plates and as black and white line drawings and photos throughout, which really assist with such a visual subject. I'd imagine that I would still get a lot out of this book even reading it away from the city, but the timing of the reading definitely allowed it to shine.
*
Marie Antionette: The Journey
Antonia Fraser, p.548
Antonia Fraser does a good job of bringing to sympathetic life a figure I wasn't too certain I would enjoy reading an entire book on. I had been recommended this particular author by queenspanky and I knew that the Kirsten Dunst film was based on this version of events, but I was still a little uncertain if this would retain my interest throughout. I have an academic background in German history, but similar attempts to enlarge my knowledge of French history failed miserably as I nodded off in the middle of the French Wars of Religion. So I wasn't certain whether I would simply lose interest partly through this book. Happily, it remained strongly written throughout, which was definitely the main criteria for me. M.A.'s life was interesting enough by itself, but the author also delves into the lives of her close circle and extended family, which helps to form a picture of her as a person in context, rather than floating in isolation, or perhaps just her husband and children (which is what frustrated me about the film, incidentally - I was not one of those upset by the shoes and cakes, but by the lack of speaking parts for the Princesse de Lamballe and the Duchesse de Polignac!).
I found this book interesting, engaging reading, and am seriously tempted to attempt some C18th RPF historical fiction. This is going in my 'will re-read' pile.
This entry was originally posted at DreamWidth. There are
comments there. Comments are welcome at either journal.