Nov 30 2011
FYI: In today’s edition of Coffee and Markets, I am joined by Pejman Yousefzadeh and Hunter Baker to discuss the eventful and impactful books we read in 2011; including autobiographies of Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld and Condeleza Rice; the growth of the church in China; The Hunger Games series and more.
Nov 29 2011
Given my interest in mythology and storytelling you would think I would have read one of the oldest known stories in the world and one of the foundational myths of Western Civilization. But while I was aware of the epic of Gilgamesh I had not read the poem or any prose versions of the story. Until I stumbled on Gilgamesh the Hero, a version aimed at younger readers, at a library sale. And I am so glad I did – besides getting a great book for a buck – because this was a great read no matter what your age.
Here is Kirkus:
McCaughrean turns in a robust, exciting rendition of the world’s oldest written epic. After many astounding feats, proud, powerful king Gilgamesh sees his beloved sidekick Enkidu die, and becomes terrified of doing the same. Abandoning self-respect, he searches the world for the secret of immortality, crosses the Waters of Death to hear the tale of undying Utnapisthim (better knows as Noah), and at last returns home, to make wiser bids for immortality by telling his tale, and raising children. Thanks to the former, as McCaughrean points out, he’s better known today than Ishtar, Enlil, or any of the other “immortal” gods he fought and worshiped. Enhanced by Parkins’s expressionistic tableaus of gnarled, dramatically posed figures, she relates his adventures with gusto-”Gilgamesh calmly strung his bow. ‘Don’t launch the funeral barge yet. What can go wrong with the two of us side by side?’ ‘Do you really want me to tell you?’ said Enkidu”-while vividly capturing his pride, soul-deep anguish, and the personal cost of his hard-won wisdom. The most riveting retelling yet of this ancient, ageless tale.
This is a perfect example of why I find these young adult illustrated readers a great way to explore myths and the power of story. You get a great story with powerful and evocative language, wonderful illustrations and an accessible introduction to a timeless tale. What’s not to like? Keep Reading
Nov 28 2011
Periodically, I like to read about an era I know nothing much about. I recently read The Women of the Cousins’ War: The Duchess, the Queen, and the King’s Mother by Philippa Gregory, David Baldwin, and Michael Jones to get a feeling for some of the more important females during the Wars of the Roses between the Yorks and Lancasters in England. Apparently, the book is a nonfiction companion to Gregory’s fictional accounts of the three women written about – Jacquetta, Duchess of Bedford; Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV; and Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII.
Here is an excerpt of a summary of the book from the publisher’s website:
In her essay on Jacquetta, Philippa Gregory uses original documents, archaeology, and histories of myth and witchcraft to create the first-ever biography of the young duchess who survived two reigns and two wars to become the first lady at two rival courts. David Baldwin, established authority on the Wars of the Roses, tells the story of Elizabeth Woodville, the first commoner to marry a king of England for love; and Michael Jones, fellow of the Royal Historical Society, writes of Margaret Beaufort, the almost-unknown matriarch of the House of Tudor.
In the introduction, Gregory writes revealingly about the differences between history and historical fiction. How much of a role does speculation play in writing each? How much fiction and how much fact should there be in a historical novel? How are female historians changing our view of women in history?
The book is divided into three parts – each part about a different woman by one of the authors. Nearly half of the book is devoted to Jacquetta and is written by Gregory. Baldwin writes about Elizabeth Woodville in the second part of the book and Jones finishes the book with writing about Margaret Beaufort. I believe all three parts are well-written and contain more information than I ever knew about the role these women played in shaping English history. Keep Reading
Nov 28 2011
Our Lisbeth Zwerger appreciation tour continues, this time with a literary classic Alice in Wonderland. And we can say at least one positive thing about Zwerger’s illustrations: they motivated me to read the book again. I don’t believe I had read Alice since high school and it was an interesting experience reading it again as an adult and in this format.
Publishers Weekly, as usual, offers a nice overview:
Zwerger’s (The Wizard of Oz) captivating cover image of the Mad Tea-Party for this edition of Carroll’s 1865 tale conveys the psychological tension of the interior artwork: Alice, at the head of an elongated table with a pristine white linen cloth, stares at the pocket watch that the March Hare is about to lower into his cup of tea. The Hare, bug-eyed, gazes out at readers while the Mad Hatter to his right, wearing a hat box, fixates on a black upturned chapeau (in lieu of a place setting), and the Dormouse between them sleeps. Across the table, an empty red mug is placed in front of a vacant green chair, and a teacup and saucer trimmed in red seems to be set for the reader. The painting conveys the way in which Zwerger brilliantly manages both to invite readers into the story and to keep them at a distance. From the heroine’s first appearance, as she falls down a well while chasing the White Rabbit, with a glimpse of orderly bookshelves at the upper left corner, Zwerger demonstrates the many layers to Alice’s journey: a cutaway view reveals that the bulk of the other “”shelves”" are the result of rats and insects tunneling underground. The supporting cast conveys the artist’s nearly sardonic perspective. The contrary caterpillar, with six of its eight arms crossed, would be at home in New York’s East Village: instead of a hookah it smokes a cigarette and sips red wine, yet–unlike Sir John Tenniel‘s sedated counterpart–this caterpillar is lucid, defiantly staring out at an Alice (and readers) absent from the scene. Zwerger’s penetrating interpretation reinvents Carroll’s situations and characters and demands a rereading of the text.
Two sentences worth noting:
Of course, there is always the question of what does it all mean?
Nov 26 2011
This review was originally posted at National Review Online’s sports blog Right Field.
Five years ago, the University of Michigan football team was headed into its final game of the season 11–0 and ranked No. 2 in the country, facing 11–0 and No. 1 ranked Ohio State. “The Game” had become “The Game of the Century” and everything was on the line: a chance to beat archrival Ohio State; a national-championship-game invite; and an opportunity to put the capstone on Lloyd Carr’s Michigan career (one that had steadily lost its glow since his 1997 national title).
On what seemed like the precipice of greatness, however, the program instead fell into darkness with wailing and gnashing of teeth.
With eerie symbolism, legendary coach Bo Schembechler died the day before The Game. The next night, Michigan lost in heartbreaking fashion, 42–39, and then lost again to USC in the Rose Bowl, 32–18.
The following season, the Wolverines (ranked No. 5) lost to Appalachian State in one of the most stunning upsets in college-football history. This downward spiral was briefly interrupted by a 9–4 season and a win in the Capital One Bowl. But the next three seasons would prove to be perhaps the ugliest and most difficult in the long history of Michigan football.
And John U. Bacon found himself with the kind of access unheard of in modern athletics. The result is a remarkable book: Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football.
Lloyd Carr retired at the end of the 2007 season and Michigan eventually hired West Virginia’s Rich Rodriguez. In one of those quirks of fate, a former student of Bacon’s worked for Rodriguez’s financial adviser. This connection led to the idea of Bacon’s writing a couple of articles about the spread offense coming to Michigan, and then maybe collaborating on a book.
It is the height of understatement to say things did not work out as planned. Keep Reading
