London has a plethora of free magazines and papers, most of which have no merit other than that they are free. Thursday's magazine is Shortlist, which takes approximately 2 minutes to read, but does have a lot of lists.
I like lists, but they do have a habit of revealing my increasing distance from contemporary life. I was struck by the list at the back of this week's edition which listed out Moby's top ten tracks to exercise to. Here they are:
Led Zeppelin, Immigrant Song
Rolling Stones, Gimmie Shelter
Public Enemy, Fight the power
Pantera, War nerve
The Clash , White Riot
Black Flag, Thirsty and Miserable
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, The Mercy Seat
New York Dolls, Trash
Thelma Houston, Don't leave me this way
X, Sugarlight
Obviously, I haven't actually heard of about half of these, but I don't even understand the logic for the ones I have. What pace do you jog along to the Mercy Seat? Regardless, here are my current favourites, though I spent my Monday session in the gym exercising to Noel Cowerd, which isn't normal, even for me.
Fairport Convention, Cajun Woman
Waylon Jennings, Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way
Creedance Clearwater Revival, Born on the Bayou
S Club 7, Don't stop movin'
Kylie, Your Disco needs you
Rolling Stones, Carol
Sparks, This Town ain't big enough for both of us
Rolling Stones, Happy
Chicory Tip, Son of my father
Bruce Springsteen, Born in the USA
Only the first four to six are truly key; the others fluctuate in and out. There are some vaguely (only vaguely mind) fashionable modern tracks bubbling below my top ten, but they're just not as good.
Thursday 28 August 2008
All for Jesus
Sometimes, no matter how much time we spend on things, we tend to forget the emotional reason why we do them. They tend to be things that require constant work, where you find that getting the immediate tasks out of the way takes over from remembering the point of what you were trying to do.
And while this gap is sometimes hypocrisy (think of eco-tossers banfing on about saving the planet in between flights to far flung destinations), often it's just a result of day to day life. For me, I find God a bit like that. Inevitably the early fire of conversion fades (quite rightly) and by now sucked into the detail of actually helping run a church, I often find myself worrying more about the church finances than about, well, Jesus.
I was reminded of this on Sunday. I went to Holy Trinity to see Marcus gave his maiden sermon. Although clearly biased, to my mind it was excellent. It was technically well done: focusing on a short section of one reading, but using the full range of the two texts in the sermon. Too often, one gets the preacher's thoughts on one line and a general exposition of the theology that links to it. Sometimes that's appropriate, but it's overdone (this has long been a problem - Alan Bennett's parody is as good now as it was then). Marcus avoided this problem and resisted the temptation to preach on the papal supremacy (and why it's bad), but most importantly he delivered a sermon that spoke about something much deeper than the bits of text he had to play with and one that helped remind me why I do this.
Now, it helps that in many ways, Marcus and I agree on the essentials here, but then, they are, well, essential. Rooting ethics and actions in Christ and the incarnation is critical to Christianity. In explaining away the miracles of Christ, we risk losing a Christian conception of the world and the miracle of the resurrection, which the point. I was given a further forcible jolt on this later in the service, when the priest returned to the theme to comfort a family over a death and declaimed very movingly on the promise of the glory of eternal life. At the heart of this is Christ who through life, death and resurrection makes this promise of redemption real.
But its the manner of his doing so that is important. Marcus put it well in this sermon. "Because God has been in the world ... that makes him a God capable of redeeming the world." This is familiar, though important, and one is reminded of the immortal words of Gregory of Nazianzus: "that which He has not assumed He has not healed," though the points are slightly different (fabulously, you can find that letter here). However, I was struck by Marcus' counterpoint, where he argued that because Christ has rejoiced in the world, "he doesn't just love his creation, but he has lived his creation as well." And it is that joyful, living and generous Christ whom I hold dear, as well as the sufferer on the cross. Because I think that a religion without that joy at its heart could not offer the final reward and mean it.
But Christ does, and it was good to be reminded.
And while this gap is sometimes hypocrisy (think of eco-tossers banfing on about saving the planet in between flights to far flung destinations), often it's just a result of day to day life. For me, I find God a bit like that. Inevitably the early fire of conversion fades (quite rightly) and by now sucked into the detail of actually helping run a church, I often find myself worrying more about the church finances than about, well, Jesus.
I was reminded of this on Sunday. I went to Holy Trinity to see Marcus gave his maiden sermon. Although clearly biased, to my mind it was excellent. It was technically well done: focusing on a short section of one reading, but using the full range of the two texts in the sermon. Too often, one gets the preacher's thoughts on one line and a general exposition of the theology that links to it. Sometimes that's appropriate, but it's overdone (this has long been a problem - Alan Bennett's parody is as good now as it was then). Marcus avoided this problem and resisted the temptation to preach on the papal supremacy (and why it's bad), but most importantly he delivered a sermon that spoke about something much deeper than the bits of text he had to play with and one that helped remind me why I do this.
Now, it helps that in many ways, Marcus and I agree on the essentials here, but then, they are, well, essential. Rooting ethics and actions in Christ and the incarnation is critical to Christianity. In explaining away the miracles of Christ, we risk losing a Christian conception of the world and the miracle of the resurrection, which the point. I was given a further forcible jolt on this later in the service, when the priest returned to the theme to comfort a family over a death and declaimed very movingly on the promise of the glory of eternal life. At the heart of this is Christ who through life, death and resurrection makes this promise of redemption real.
But its the manner of his doing so that is important. Marcus put it well in this sermon. "Because God has been in the world ... that makes him a God capable of redeeming the world." This is familiar, though important, and one is reminded of the immortal words of Gregory of Nazianzus: "that which He has not assumed He has not healed," though the points are slightly different (fabulously, you can find that letter here). However, I was struck by Marcus' counterpoint, where he argued that because Christ has rejoiced in the world, "he doesn't just love his creation, but he has lived his creation as well." And it is that joyful, living and generous Christ whom I hold dear, as well as the sufferer on the cross. Because I think that a religion without that joy at its heart could not offer the final reward and mean it.
But Christ does, and it was good to be reminded.
Tuesday 26 August 2008
Our classical heritage
By the way, this is an Olympic post with a pretentious title. It may save time
Well, it's all been jolly exciting this time round. It's so much better when we're not rubbish. It does make me a little nervous though - there is a real risk 2012 will be a massive anticlimax. In fact, I am very worried about London. Here's my favourite stat:
Well, it's all been jolly exciting this time round. It's so much better when we're not rubbish. It does make me a little nervous though - there is a real risk 2012 will be a massive anticlimax. In fact, I am very worried about London. Here's my favourite stat:
- Number of post war British double gold medallists to 2004: 2
- Number of British double gold medallists 2008: 3
We may struggle to match this next time.
Quite frankly, I never really wanted them here. I rather hoped they would go to Paris, which would be near enough to get to easily, but not involve me paying for them or having hordes more people buggering up the transport. Anyway, the French also have a better track record than us in delivering public buildings, so it would have been best there (incidentally, I think everyone outside Africa has a better record than us).
Also, the our segement in the handover to us was truly awful. However, I was pleased to see Boris in full classical flow in his speech. It's about time a classical revival got a classicist to receive them.
Maybe it won't be so bad after all.
Thursday 21 August 2008
It's grim up north
I went to Manchester last weekend, for a stag weekend. Actually, we were staying in Ashton-under-Lyne, where elements of my family come from, though I didn't have time for getting in touch. It was quite fun, but I remain very glad I don't live there.
Specifically, I'm glad I don't have to travel there. Both trains (to & from) were delayed by a total of 2 hours. And Ashton taxis don't know their own bloody area. I came with address in hand and it took me 25 minutes and 9 cabs to find someone who knew where the house I was staying was. This would not happen in London and Ashton is a somewhat smaller town. And there was limited wine available in the bars that wasn't shit.
For example, this statement is clearly true: 'We cannot guarantee to regenerate every town and every city in Britain that has fallen behind.' As is this one: 'Just as we can't buck the market, so we can't buck economic geography either.' They're the end of the exec summary - they are in fact the point of the paper.
On the other hand we get somewhat dodgy arguments. Here's Chris Grayling: 'Liverpool, Manchester, Newcastle and Leeds have successful financial services sectors.' Not that successful. Edinburgh does, Manchester might, but Liverpool?
The FT reports Peter Kilfoyle, known for his economic skill, with 'It doesn’t ring true economically, socially or politically.' But I'm not sure that's true. The polotical bit is obviously, but economically and socially. Have you read the report by the economic historian?
But the key point is not about the detail, but about the broad thrust of the critique. The report doesn't suggest that we close the north, but that the geographic and economic logic that propelled such large numbers of people to live in industrial cities no longer apply, while the economic logic that kept cities which had limited industry but large number of highly qualified staff small (e.g., Cambridge, Oxford etc) was also defunct. So we might want to reconsider the numbers rather than pour money into replacing the wealth.
It's still a politically stupid thing to say, but I'll end with some historical context is in order. These are new cities (though old towns) we're talking about in the main. And if we let them shrink a little we will be doing everyone a favour, including their inhabitants.
And their taxi drivers who might then know where they are supposed to be going.
Specifically, I'm glad I don't have to travel there. Both trains (to & from) were delayed by a total of 2 hours. And Ashton taxis don't know their own bloody area. I came with address in hand and it took me 25 minutes and 9 cabs to find someone who knew where the house I was staying was. This would not happen in London and Ashton is a somewhat smaller town. And there was limited wine available in the bars that wasn't shit.
Other than that, it was OK - no-one fought (somehow disappointing) and I did manage to fall asleep in the house of ill-repute we ended up in. But I was glad to be home. It should be noted that I was a lot less philosophical about this on Sunday
At the time, I could certainly understand the sentiment behind the Policy Exchange recent report on the cities of the North. That said, in the cold light of day, I don't quite know why anyone commissioned such an obviously inflammatory report. However, what is more depressing is that no-one seems to have taken the trouble to read it.For example, this statement is clearly true: 'We cannot guarantee to regenerate every town and every city in Britain that has fallen behind.' As is this one: 'Just as we can't buck the market, so we can't buck economic geography either.' They're the end of the exec summary - they are in fact the point of the paper.
On the other hand we get somewhat dodgy arguments. Here's Chris Grayling: 'Liverpool, Manchester, Newcastle and Leeds have successful financial services sectors.' Not that successful. Edinburgh does, Manchester might, but Liverpool?
The FT reports Peter Kilfoyle, known for his economic skill, with 'It doesn’t ring true economically, socially or politically.' But I'm not sure that's true. The polotical bit is obviously, but economically and socially. Have you read the report by the economic historian?
But the key point is not about the detail, but about the broad thrust of the critique. The report doesn't suggest that we close the north, but that the geographic and economic logic that propelled such large numbers of people to live in industrial cities no longer apply, while the economic logic that kept cities which had limited industry but large number of highly qualified staff small (e.g., Cambridge, Oxford etc) was also defunct. So we might want to reconsider the numbers rather than pour money into replacing the wealth.
It's still a politically stupid thing to say, but I'll end with some historical context is in order. These are new cities (though old towns) we're talking about in the main. And if we let them shrink a little we will be doing everyone a favour, including their inhabitants.
And their taxi drivers who might then know where they are supposed to be going.
Wednesday 20 August 2008
Relative poverty
I've always hated the term 'relative poverty.' It's false language and disingenuous. I was reminded of it by this rather good post on it - my favourite line - 'if Warren Buffet moved to London poverty would increase' - I think nicely skewers the point.
Some technical notes: The definition of relative poverty is 60% of median average income. The details are here. For a single adult, it means an income below £5,200 per annum excluding income tax, council tax and housing costs, (rents, mortgage interest, buildings insurance, water charges).
Now, the level of relative poverty may have kept me as a student (no, that's a lie, but I had a rather extravagant student life, and it could have done), and it's clearly not a lot of money, but it's not poverty to have a house, insurance, and a decent amount of spending money.
What they actually mean is of course inequality. Inequality is important, we can all have opinions on it, but it's not necessarily linked to poverty, so can we defend policy on relative poverty on inequality grounds please? And not raise the totem of poverty, which is overly emotive and just not true.
Personally, I am not very interested in inequality, rather in outcomes for the genuinely poor, which is why most of my donations go abroad. Anyway, this isn't even one of the things that annoys me most about government use of statistics and maths: that's the tax system, but I'll post on that later.
All that Glitters...
I haven't done very well at keeping this ticking over recently, but I thought I would summon some words on the fall of Paul Gadd.
I have the now dubious distinction of having been to his 90s Christmas concerts on no less than two occasions, and they were great: gloriously silly and over top pantomime pop, with some great tracks. To this day, I remain very fond my Best of Gary Glitter (well about half of it, he wasn't that good) - and I defy anyone to listen to Rock 'n' Roll (Part 2) without a glimmer of a smile.*
But it's all over now. And it's sad. While he may not deserve any sympathy (and I'm not sure about that) we (certainly I) have lost something. When someone who occupied a rather splendid, frivolous and joyful part of our cultural life turns out to be something different, there is a sadness and a sense of innocence lost. And I want know how long this all went on. His first child pornography arrest was 1997. Was he clean up to then, or has this been a recurring activity? For obviously reasons, I know I would like the former to be true.
The whole think also highlights our approach to paedophilia in general, which is hysterical and unhelpful. The coverage hasn't been particularly edifying, which is surprising given how perfectly it was all parodied seven years ago by Chris Morris.
But in some senses, we shouldn't be surprised. We've always been rubbish at this. The term itself is difficult, partly because people don't understand the word, and partly because it confuses prepubescents with older teenagers into the same category, when clearly they are not. And the violent thuggish pronouncements of this kind of site only divert attention from the real issues. I found the account of Roger Took's activities provoked a far more visceral feeling of horror than any amount of Glitter-baiting or ranting.
And for something to find me on the side opposed to ranting means it must be serious indeed.
*As an aside, this puts me on the side of the 'Art independent of morals' camp - no surprises there I suspect. What might be is that some time you have been able to do courses in it. Why?
I have the now dubious distinction of having been to his 90s Christmas concerts on no less than two occasions, and they were great: gloriously silly and over top pantomime pop, with some great tracks. To this day, I remain very fond my Best of Gary Glitter (well about half of it, he wasn't that good) - and I defy anyone to listen to Rock 'n' Roll (Part 2) without a glimmer of a smile.*
But it's all over now. And it's sad. While he may not deserve any sympathy (and I'm not sure about that) we (certainly I) have lost something. When someone who occupied a rather splendid, frivolous and joyful part of our cultural life turns out to be something different, there is a sadness and a sense of innocence lost. And I want know how long this all went on. His first child pornography arrest was 1997. Was he clean up to then, or has this been a recurring activity? For obviously reasons, I know I would like the former to be true.
The whole think also highlights our approach to paedophilia in general, which is hysterical and unhelpful. The coverage hasn't been particularly edifying, which is surprising given how perfectly it was all parodied seven years ago by Chris Morris.
But in some senses, we shouldn't be surprised. We've always been rubbish at this. The term itself is difficult, partly because people don't understand the word, and partly because it confuses prepubescents with older teenagers into the same category, when clearly they are not. And the violent thuggish pronouncements of this kind of site only divert attention from the real issues. I found the account of Roger Took's activities provoked a far more visceral feeling of horror than any amount of Glitter-baiting or ranting.
And for something to find me on the side opposed to ranting means it must be serious indeed.
*As an aside, this puts me on the side of the 'Art independent of morals' camp - no surprises there I suspect. What might be is that some time you have been able to do courses in it. Why?
Friday 15 August 2008
Aging
I met someone yesterday who I hadn’t seen for about nine years. Andrew was president of the Oxford Reform Club when I was social secretary in 1998. Inexplicably, no online record of that termcard exists, but one for the term before does. He’s just cropped up the BBC, working for us on partnership ideas for the sector as part of Ofcom's PSB Review
This has given me a jolt about aging. I'm pretty relaxed about aging itself. I have no real qualms about the approaching slew of 30th birthdays, nor all the weddings, though the babies are a little terrifying. However, what struck me was how much has changed in the last nine years. Of course, I have been working for eight years, and with Anna for seven; I've even been doing my doctorate for two, though that's problematic on a number of levels.
But that isn't very interesting. What is is the change in interests. I like to think that I've been pretty static in terms of fundamentals since 1999/2000, but, and this is the advantage of having databases for everything, it turns out that's nonsense.
I could prove this in terms of politics (because I am so much more left wing now) or friends (over half of my friendships date from post-2000), but it's more striking to think about what I hadn't got or read in 2000. Then, my library had:
- Not a single work on the early church - I read Chadwick' History of the Early Church in 2001, which I have blogged about before. I'm doing my doctorate on it now
- No travel literature, Dalrymple's From the Holy Mountain was the first thing I read (also 2001). I have about 60 of them now.
- Obviously a smattering of history, but no memoir until James Lees-Milne's Ancient as the Hills (2002)
- No formal theology. the first one I bought was Moltmann's The Crucified God (2003)
- An astonishingly limited selection of fiction. Over three quarters of my books were science fiction, fantasy or children's (this last, mostly the complete Chalet School series). I had no Fitzgerald, no Greene (though I had read a couple of my parents'), no Pamuk, Solzhenitsyn, Steinbeck, Trollope or Waugh. And this is just a partial list.
- They're not all positive developmentst: then, thankfully, I had no books on Buddhism
Sometimes I think I have dissipated my talents and failed to build a career effectively over the last eight years. Writing this, I am convinced that it was time well spent.
This has given me a jolt about aging. I'm pretty relaxed about aging itself. I have no real qualms about the approaching slew of 30th birthdays, nor all the weddings, though the babies are a little terrifying. However, what struck me was how much has changed in the last nine years. Of course, I have been working for eight years, and with Anna for seven; I've even been doing my doctorate for two, though that's problematic on a number of levels.
But that isn't very interesting. What is is the change in interests. I like to think that I've been pretty static in terms of fundamentals since 1999/2000, but, and this is the advantage of having databases for everything, it turns out that's nonsense.
I could prove this in terms of politics (because I am so much more left wing now) or friends (over half of my friendships date from post-2000), but it's more striking to think about what I hadn't got or read in 2000. Then, my library had:
- Not a single work on the early church - I read Chadwick' History of the Early Church in 2001, which I have blogged about before. I'm doing my doctorate on it now
- No travel literature, Dalrymple's From the Holy Mountain was the first thing I read (also 2001). I have about 60 of them now.
- Obviously a smattering of history, but no memoir until James Lees-Milne's Ancient as the Hills (2002)
- No formal theology. the first one I bought was Moltmann's The Crucified God (2003)
- An astonishingly limited selection of fiction. Over three quarters of my books were science fiction, fantasy or children's (this last, mostly the complete Chalet School series). I had no Fitzgerald, no Greene (though I had read a couple of my parents'), no Pamuk, Solzhenitsyn, Steinbeck, Trollope or Waugh. And this is just a partial list.
- They're not all positive developmentst: then, thankfully, I had no books on Buddhism
Sometimes I think I have dissipated my talents and failed to build a career effectively over the last eight years. Writing this, I am convinced that it was time well spent.
Wednesday 13 August 2008
Wednesday 6 August 2008
Bibliography, July 2008
Bought / received (75)
includes acquisitions on 2nd August in Hay
D. R. Allen, Jim: The life of E.W. Swanton
M. Amis, Koba the Dread
P. Auster, New York Trilogy
M. Beloff, An Historian in the Twentieth Century
M. Bradbury, (ed.), Penguin book of short stories
R. Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
V. Brittain, Testament of Youth
P.F. Browne, Rambling on the road to Rome
A. Burroughs, Sellevision
W. Churchill, Young Winston’s Wars
N. Cowerd, Lyrics
D. Devonshire, Counting my chickens
N. Ferguson, Colossus
F.M. Ford, The Good Soldier
A. Goldsworthy, In the name of Rome
G. Greene, A Burnt out case
G. Haigh, Silent Revolutions
T. Heald, Village Cricket
H. Hesse, The Glass Bead Game
T. Heyerdahl, The Kon-Tiki expedition
Q. Hogg, The Left was never right
S. Howatch, Glittering Images
D. Hughes, The imperial German Dinner Service
R.P. Jhabvala, Esmond in India
J. Kelman, How late it was, how late
R.F. Kennedy, 13 Days
M. Lang and Donald R. Dudley, (ed.), Penguin Companion to Classical, Oriental & African Literature
A. Lebor, City of Oranges
D. Lodge, How far can you Go?
R. Llewellyn, How Green was my valley
V.M. Manfredi, Tyrant
T. Mann, Death in Venice
M. Marquese, War minus the shooting
A. Maupin, Tales of the City
K. Meyer and S. Brysac, Tournament of Shadows
R.T. Moss, Cleopatra's wedding present
J. Osbourne, Luther
M. Rendell, The death of Marco Pantani
G. Riley, Eating Less
H.H. Scullard, From the Gracchi to Nero
J. Steinbeck, The Short reign of Peppin IV
C. Stewart, The Almond Blossom Appreciation Society
Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars
G.Vermes, The resurrection
A. van Vogt, Moonbeast
M. Yunus, Banker to the Poor
A. Walker, The Colour Purple
A. Wilson, Late Call
A. Wilson, Hemlock and After
M. Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
Read (20)
L. Adkins, Empires of the Plain: Henry Rawlinson and the Lost Languages of Babylon
A. Brookner, Hotel du Lac
*R. Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
A. Christie, Miss Marple's final cases
R. Dawkins, The Selfish Gene
P.K. Dick, The world Jones made
P.K. Dick, Flow my tears, the policeman said
G. Durrell, My Family and other animals
M. Gladwell, The Tipping point
B. Keenan, An evil cradling
*R.F. Kennedy, 13 Days
J. Lovegrove. Provender Gleed
D. Martin, and P. Mullen, No Alternative!
J. Morris, Wales
V. Nabokov, Speak, Memory
M. Proust, Pleasures and Days
*G. Riley, Eating Less
G. Sand, The Black City
S. Sassoon, Memoirs of a Fox hunting man
D.L. Sayers, Whose Body?
Oh dear. My promise last month that I would try to restrict buying appears to have foundered spectacularly on the rock of Hay-on-Wye, where most of my acquisitions were got, although it should be said, I had bought 11 beforehand.
However, there is cause of celebration, I have matched my record reading for a month, and many (OK, some) of those of those acquisitions are reference and collecting books. I am never really going to read Cowerd’s Lyrics or Luther. I must confess that I bought the latter for one speech about allegories in sermons.
It's also no real surprise how I managed to reach 20 books this month (and I read 15 in the first fortnight): Lots of Science Fiction and Crime, most of it pretty forgettable, save for Flow my Tears the Policeman said, which I was inspired to reread by this review.
In fact, it wasn't a vintage month with some things disappointing me hugely, particularly Sassoon, which I found unappealing and self-indulgent, though apparently the second volume makes up for this. No Alternative! the collection of essays put together to oppose the ASB in 1980, has dated and there’s not much of interest there now. While I hope Jan Morris may have written better books; her Wales was evocative, but marred by too much affectionate, but sadly inaccurate assertion that jars.
Others were mostly as expected: there is not much I can add to the reams of comment on Kennedy (which I “had” to read for work) or Keenan, though I ‘enjoyed’ both. While Proust was predictably immature though of literary historical interest.
However, there were a number of good books. Hotel du Lac went some way to redeeming fiction, but the standouts were science and memoir. Dawkins’s most famous book is lucid and accessible and Gladwell was interesting and increasingly fashionable. My family and other animals is charming and well done, but Nabokov’s autobiography was excellent, both historically fascinating (his father was a prominent liberal in pre-revolutionary Russia) and evocative of a slightly strange, but endearing childhood. I don’t know how much read it is now, but it should be read more.
After this mammoth acquisition spree, it is time to abstain in August. Not one single book more will I buy until September, maybe.
includes acquisitions on 2nd August in Hay
D. R. Allen, Jim: The life of E.W. Swanton
M. Amis, Koba the Dread
P. Auster, New York Trilogy
M. Beloff, An Historian in the Twentieth Century
M. Bradbury, (ed.), Penguin book of short stories
R. Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
V. Brittain, Testament of Youth
P.F. Browne, Rambling on the road to Rome
A. Burroughs, Sellevision
W. Churchill, Young Winston’s Wars
N. Cowerd, Lyrics
D. Devonshire, Counting my chickens
N. Ferguson, Colossus
F.M. Ford, The Good Soldier
A. Goldsworthy, In the name of Rome
G. Greene, A Burnt out case
G. Haigh, Silent Revolutions
T. Heald, Village Cricket
H. Hesse, The Glass Bead Game
T. Heyerdahl, The Kon-Tiki expedition
Q. Hogg, The Left was never right
S. Howatch, Glittering Images
D. Hughes, The imperial German Dinner Service
R.P. Jhabvala, Esmond in India
J. Kelman, How late it was, how late
R.F. Kennedy, 13 Days
M. Lang and Donald R. Dudley, (ed.), Penguin Companion to Classical, Oriental & African Literature
A. Lebor, City of Oranges
D. Lodge, How far can you Go?
R. Llewellyn, How Green was my valley
V.M. Manfredi, Tyrant
T. Mann, Death in Venice
M. Marquese, War minus the shooting
A. Maupin, Tales of the City
K. Meyer and S. Brysac, Tournament of Shadows
R.T. Moss, Cleopatra's wedding present
J. Osbourne, Luther
M. Rendell, The death of Marco Pantani
G. Riley, Eating Less
H.H. Scullard, From the Gracchi to Nero
J. Steinbeck, The Short reign of Peppin IV
C. Stewart, The Almond Blossom Appreciation Society
Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars
G.Vermes, The resurrection
A. van Vogt, Moonbeast
M. Yunus, Banker to the Poor
A. Walker, The Colour Purple
A. Wilson, Late Call
A. Wilson, Hemlock and After
M. Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
Read (20)
L. Adkins, Empires of the Plain: Henry Rawlinson and the Lost Languages of Babylon
A. Brookner, Hotel du Lac
*R. Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
A. Christie, Miss Marple's final cases
R. Dawkins, The Selfish Gene
P.K. Dick, The world Jones made
P.K. Dick, Flow my tears, the policeman said
G. Durrell, My Family and other animals
M. Gladwell, The Tipping point
B. Keenan, An evil cradling
*R.F. Kennedy, 13 Days
J. Lovegrove. Provender Gleed
D. Martin, and P. Mullen, No Alternative!
J. Morris, Wales
V. Nabokov, Speak, Memory
M. Proust, Pleasures and Days
*G. Riley, Eating Less
G. Sand, The Black City
S. Sassoon, Memoirs of a Fox hunting man
D.L. Sayers, Whose Body?
Oh dear. My promise last month that I would try to restrict buying appears to have foundered spectacularly on the rock of Hay-on-Wye, where most of my acquisitions were got, although it should be said, I had bought 11 beforehand.
However, there is cause of celebration, I have matched my record reading for a month, and many (OK, some) of those of those acquisitions are reference and collecting books. I am never really going to read Cowerd’s Lyrics or Luther. I must confess that I bought the latter for one speech about allegories in sermons.
It's also no real surprise how I managed to reach 20 books this month (and I read 15 in the first fortnight): Lots of Science Fiction and Crime, most of it pretty forgettable, save for Flow my Tears the Policeman said, which I was inspired to reread by this review.
In fact, it wasn't a vintage month with some things disappointing me hugely, particularly Sassoon, which I found unappealing and self-indulgent, though apparently the second volume makes up for this. No Alternative! the collection of essays put together to oppose the ASB in 1980, has dated and there’s not much of interest there now. While I hope Jan Morris may have written better books; her Wales was evocative, but marred by too much affectionate, but sadly inaccurate assertion that jars.
Others were mostly as expected: there is not much I can add to the reams of comment on Kennedy (which I “had” to read for work) or Keenan, though I ‘enjoyed’ both. While Proust was predictably immature though of literary historical interest.
However, there were a number of good books. Hotel du Lac went some way to redeeming fiction, but the standouts were science and memoir. Dawkins’s most famous book is lucid and accessible and Gladwell was interesting and increasingly fashionable. My family and other animals is charming and well done, but Nabokov’s autobiography was excellent, both historically fascinating (his father was a prominent liberal in pre-revolutionary Russia) and evocative of a slightly strange, but endearing childhood. I don’t know how much read it is now, but it should be read more.
After this mammoth acquisition spree, it is time to abstain in August. Not one single book more will I buy until September, maybe.
Monday 4 August 2008
Mark 4.25
For he that hath, to him shall be given: and he that hath not, from him shall be taken even that which he hath.
I went to Wales last week (photos here). It was great apart from a walk from hell in a bog (near the pretty waterfalls), but the most astonishing thing didn't happen there, but in a church.
I went with some religious friends, including a priest, and we naturally went to church on the Sunday (save Anna) - in doing so, we expanded the congregation by 50%. After the service we chatted to the (retired, stand in) priest for a while, who asked us where we were staying and what we were doing etc. On hearing that we were off to Hay-on-Wye, she then proceeded to tell us she had a large library she was trying to get rid of, and were any of us interested in theology? After a brief hesitation (very brief it should be said), I shamelessly offered to take some of these off her hands, introducing myself as a student of theology and Tony as a vicar. Tony did complain that I managed to gloss over his far superior greater academic theological qualifcations, but this is not relevant.
We went the next day, and plagued with guilt for being given them free (payment was refused), took about 25 volumes each off her. I list mine below, but this is really a public post to thank Marion for her astonishing generosity and to note that the Lord does provide, though sometimes one might have to ask.
Books acquired from God (25):
S.C. Barton, Holiness
John Chyrsostom, Homilies
D. Dales, Light to the Isles
J.C. Fenton, Preaching the Cross
J.C.L. Gibson, Language and imagery in the Old Testament
P. Hughes, The reformation in England
D. Jenkins, Free to believe
J. Jobling and I. Markham, Theological Liberalism
L.T. Johnson, The writings of the New Testament
E.T. Long, Existence, Being and God
T. MacCauley, A history of England (4 volumes)
T. Meakin, A Basic church dictionary
D. Morgan, Lambeth Speaks
H.A. Netland, Dissonant Voices
R.M. Pirsig, Lila
J. Reumann, Stewardship and the economy of God
E.P. Saunders and M. Davies, Studying the Synoptic gospels
E. Schillebeeckz, The understanding of faith
M.A. Smith, The Church of the Siege
P. Tilich, Theology of Culture
C.K. Ward, Priests and People
J. Ziesler, Pauline Christianity
Are we missing the point?
Never normally one to downplay the importance of bringing the crimes of communism to a wider audience, I find myself doing just that over the coverage of Solzhenitsyn's death. I get the feeling we have forgotten how good the books are.
Of course, for Solzhenitsyn the distinction between the political and literary is blurred. Almost every one of his books deals with the evil of Soviet communism. However, by focusing exclusively on A day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and the Gulag Archipelago - as the obituaries do - , I cannot help by feel we are missing the point a little. The first is mostly autobiography, and striking for its revelatory power as well as for its writing, and the second essentially a historical work.
Yet he literary reputation doesn't rest on the Gulag, which he wrote after the Nobel prize, but on his other works. In particular The First Circle and The Cancer Ward are both brilliant.
So, let us applaud and commemorate his stance on communism, for it was a brave and necessary one. But let us not forget that he was a writer first.
Of course, for Solzhenitsyn the distinction between the political and literary is blurred. Almost every one of his books deals with the evil of Soviet communism. However, by focusing exclusively on A day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and the Gulag Archipelago - as the obituaries do - , I cannot help by feel we are missing the point a little. The first is mostly autobiography, and striking for its revelatory power as well as for its writing, and the second essentially a historical work.
Yet he literary reputation doesn't rest on the Gulag, which he wrote after the Nobel prize, but on his other works. In particular The First Circle and The Cancer Ward are both brilliant.
So, let us applaud and commemorate his stance on communism, for it was a brave and necessary one. But let us not forget that he was a writer first.
Sunday 3 August 2008
At last
I had begun to worry about him, but Ramprakash finally got his century of centuries yesterday. Thank God for that.
Sadly (and simultaneously), our current lack of national captains was also long overdue and the right choice, though there aren't many alternatives knocking around.
I've just got back from holiday, which has prevented posting. Normal service to be resumed with a bumper bibliographic posting soon.
Sadly (and simultaneously), our current lack of national captains was also long overdue and the right choice, though there aren't many alternatives knocking around.
I've just got back from holiday, which has prevented posting. Normal service to be resumed with a bumper bibliographic posting soon.
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