Books read in Sept 2007

The Middle East, Yesterday and Today -- Edited by David W Miller and Clark D Moore, Bantam Pathfinder, 1970 -- This book gives a concise history of how the Arabs evolved first from a proud people running a large empire then (skipping many steps) to servants of the Ottomans/Turks, then to subjects of the Infidel (British and French) empires, and then finally to the modern states in the region.

The Showa Anthology -- Modern Japanese Short Storiees -- Edited by Van C Gessel & Tomone Matsumoto -- Kodansha 1985, 1992 -- Showa is the era of Hirohito's reign. These stories therefore were written in this era, and otherwise have little to do with the Emperor.

Hunters of Dune -- Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson - 2006 -- The original Dune novels by Frank Hubert -- written 30 years ago -- spoke of "gholas", meaning what we would now call cloned people, but spoke only in indirect terms of how hideously barbaric the actual cloning process -- axlotl tanks as the books called them -- is, but the new books, allegedly written from Frank's outlines sealed in safety deposit boxes ages ago, give a degree of "realism" approaching that of the horror novel surrounding cloning. This by itself gives a purpose of a sort to the "new" Dune tag-along novels by the next generation, but also imposes the bloodthirstiness of our own era on it. And the Great Enemy only hinted at in the last Frank Herbert Dune novel: robots.

Dreams of Leaving -- Rupert Thomson -- Bloomsbury -- 1987 -- paperback 1996 -- This book, about the escape of a baby named Moses from the reclusive English town of New Egypt, has its moments but its casual depiction of cocaine addiction is disappointing in an otherwise interesting book.

Eternal recurrence

Eternal recurrence is a term borrowed from Nietzsche. I don't understand what Nietzsche meant by it and so my meaning will probably be different.

My eternal recurrence refers to contemporary tragedies assuming a disproportionate importance in a person's life because of the coincidence in time of a more public event.

For people born a bit earlier than me , a defining event of this kind was the assassination of John F Kennedy.

To this day many people who respected Kennedy compare notes on what they were doing when the fatal shots were fired in Dallas. It's still a topic on radio call-in shows at US Thanksgiving time (when it happened). Time passes and that event is now 44 years in the past, and so more recent events take their place: the fall of the Berlin Wall, the death of Princess Diana, and the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York.

Kennedy's death entered the popular consciousness not just as an event but a time marker. For instance Frederick Forsythe's novel The Odessa File opens with a man hearing about it on the radio while travelling on an autobahn in Germany. He pulls to the side of the road and discusses it with a complete stranger.

While many people choose to remember banal things about their actions at the time of Kennedy's death, I focus here on personal events, which are in fact of greater importance, but which public events, especially their exaggerated profiles in the mass media, are imprinted on your personal consciousness, effectively fusing the two in your mind, and causing them to become inseparable. The fatal shots in 1963 occurred at 12:30pm local time, and thus in mid-day for North America. and so people throughout the continent were mostly at work or school, and so the lore is replete with people remembering their time getting a haircut, buying groceries at a store, or for younger kids, an announcement over the school public address system by a school principal with barely restrained emotions. I'm not old enough to have a specific memory of Kennedy's death but the death of Winston Churchill occurred when I was in class, and there was a similar sense of a historic moment in my little schoolroom in northeast B.C.

However, these were minor events of my childhood. For a much more memorable event, consider the example of Aug 31, 2007. Ten years before, I was packing things in shipping boxes, to be placed in storage. This was happening in Hong Kong. This was the end of an era -- nothing an outsider should care about -- but the and of my time in Hong Kong. The British era in Hong Kong had ended two months before and it seemed maybe my time in Asia was over (as it turned out, it dragged on a short time more but ended later in the fall of 1997). By Aug 31, 1997, the pressure was on: I was catching a flight out the next day; I was standing in my flat in Mid Levels packing. I worked all night (intermittently), and it was already Sept 1 (local time) when reports of her accident starting coming in on CNN International. Because of the time difference, a late-night accident in Paris was early morning news in Hong Kong. Two months earlier I had witnessed the royal yacht Britannia depart from Hong Kong with Chris Patten and Prince Charles aboard. Suddenly there was this final link: Diana and Charles, Diana and death today, my own imminent departure.

In the earliest reports, she had not yet died, only fatally injured and rushed to Hotel Dieu and Charles rushed to Paris.

During the flight itself, there was of course no news, but when I landed in Vancouver, I was immersed in two stories: my own preparation for a conference in Boston, and of course Diana's death and its aftermath as related in the recent movie "The Queen". This association is recalled by the present ten-year anniversary of her death.

Similarly, on Sept 10, 2001, I was informed that I was to be laid off my (well-paying) job. On the very same day, received word of possible infection by a deadly disease (I found out months later it was all a false alarm). Sept 11, the events in NYC. I remember eating dinner that day at a hideous sports bar (I don't watch sport events on television), sitting there like my shell-shocked Great Uncle who had been affected (so the story went) by the Second World War.

So these two very public events colliding as they did with private time of intense conflict, have become linked emotionally in my soul. I say in my soul because my mind knows perfectly well that they are quite separate, but the link, once established, however irrationally is there for good.

The effects of this is to mean that whenever, as has happened in the past week, Diana's death is replayed in the public arena, I also replay my last days in Hong Kong. There are other connections with her life and death which took longer for me to appreciate. These are more rational and less irrational. Nevertheless, it's hard to separate them fully.

Since the two very public events mentioned, are periodically revived and replayed at anniversaries, Nietzsche's phrase eternal recurrence seems apt.

Que sera, sera

I visited New York City for the first time in 1985. I was quickly taken with the subway.

It's vast, ugly in various ways, showing its age, and sometimes dangerous, and yet it's place of real people, and interesting experiences.

I didn't have a lot of cash with me, and in fact, I had basically run out of it. That was OK because I was heading home (to DC) by Amtrak, but first I was taking the Broadway line to Penn Station.

There was this young girl (I was only 27 at the time and so "young" meant younger than that) -- African American we would say now, "black" we said then --- singing "Que Sera, Sera", and it was so beautiful, even better than Doris Day, that I wanted to contribute some money to her, but I had none -- not even a cent. I had a cash card but in those days such things couldn'tbe used outside your own state.

I waited for my train there in the 96th Street Station on Broadway and then my train came and the moment was lost.

I hope she forgives me for not rewarding her for supplying the most memorable part of my first trip to Manhattan.

A New York memory.

Grannie Smith

She wasn't my grandmother, or perhaps anybody's, but she was elderly. She was something of a fixture in Port Coquitlam, in the 1970's and 1980's. She lived with a husband, but by all accounts he was neither faithful nor nice in general.

In the 1970's I lived and grew up in Poco, but I didn't know her then. I met her in the 1980's, when I still made trips there to a few shops I liked (all gone now).

With her house but unpleasant domestic situation, perhaps it was no surprise that Grannie was a bag lady. She went on the 160 bus to Vancouver's skid row, and was well known there, sometimes as somebody helping out, and sometimes as one of the homeless, which she was in her own way.

Opinions about her varied in Poco. When she died, Denny Boyd, a well-known columnist with the Vancouver Sun, devoted his column to her.

There is now Granny Smith Park at the site of her house in downtown Poco.

The train station

I bought a train ticket to Seattle today. I have fond memories of the last time I rode Amtrak - in 1985 from Washington, DC to NYC and back. That was a fateful experience which I'll tell elsewhere but still buying that ticket made me want to see Vancouver's rail station even though it was mostly closed.

I'm getting older and clinging to old memories. A meaningless trek to Seattle -- I have no earthly reason to go to Seattle -- well there is some business but I hate that stuff -- but it still reminds me of the meaningful trek to NYC in 1985 -- 22 years ago now.

Interlocutors

It's been my custom for a long time to read before bed. But the things I've been reading haven't encouraged sleep. So think I'll try the Bible.

My old friend David liked the "minor prophets". I'm not sure if Lamentations qualifies, but it's the right place for me to start, being quite sad lately.

Lamentations has only 5 Chapters. I hope to give blog entries on
each.

How deserted lies the city, once so full of people!
How like a widow is she,
who once was great among the nations!
Show who was queen among the provinces
has now become a slave

The decline of an empire, the American empire, this I can accept, but this seems to foretell worse than decline. Anyway, this is a personal blog. My own decline in strength is the reason for reading Lamentations.

Bitterly she weeps at night, tears are upon her cheeks
Among all her lovers there is none to comfort her,
All her friends have betrayed here, they have become her enemies

After affliction and harsh labor, Judah has gone into exile.
She dwells amongst the nations; she finds no resting place.
All who pursue her have overtaken her in the midst of her distress

The roads to Zion mourn, for no one comes to her appointed feasts
All her gateways are desolate, her priests groan, her maidens grieve, and she is in bitter anguish

Easter services

At a horrible time in my life, my local Anglican priest (a wonderful lady named Cathy), gave me a book called The Thirty-Nine Article, by E.C.S. Gibson. The book is the foundation, such as it is, of the Anglican Church.

It is mainly a limited reform of the Roman (Papalist) church combined with a resistance to more radical reforms (such as Puritanism or Calvinism, who wanted to do away with bishops, and kings along with them).

In the end, the Anglican church looks and sounds like a Catholic church even though the Pope doesn't so accept it, but there's a place in it for Purcell, Gregorian Chant, and Thomas Dorsey (Precious Lord).

My sister and I are both church musicians, and although I do not attend church often, I fill in for her sometimes.

I filled in for her on Holy Saturday (an evening service) and on Easter morning, we worked together for the first time in public

Easter morning is a good time to be in a church: a lot of people are there. Most of the mainline Protestant faiths include the wonderful hymn Jesus Christ is Risen Today.

The priest in his "address" (sermon) talked about how the women encountering Jesus' empty tomb were filled with awe. For myself, I'd suspect grave robbers. The women, include Mary of Magdal (Mary Magadalene) told their story to the disciples but were not believed. If the story stopped there, relying only on what women said, we might never have this story/legend/article of our faith.

This Easter Sunday gave my sister and I a rare opportunity to place religious music for a full church together. That is something to look forward to again sometime.

Today's books

Books read today:
A Victim Must be Found, a Benny Cooperman mystery by Howard Engel (just a few pages).

I read this book a long time ago just after living in the USA for a while as a student. I started encountering Jewish things. Of course I done this all my life through the Bible and social studies class at school, and a friend had married a Jewish girl, and my mother worried about serving non-kosher food. But she wasn't observant, as few of my Jewish friends are. However, a Jewish girlfriend in the USA convinced me to adopt some aspects of kosher living -- including avoiding pork and ham.

The relevance to the book is that the protaganist is a Jewish private-eye.


I'm also re-reading part of "The Worldy Philosophers" (Revised Edition) by Robert Heilbroner, which I bought used somewhere for $1 (US or Canadian, not sure). I now know there were several other editions, the final of which provides more references. However, right now, I'm considering getting The Economic Consequences of the Peace by John Maynard Keynes. Its principal assertions seems quite in line with the account I read in Churchill's history of WW2 that I browsed for a while at the San Franciso Public Library while waiting for a plane. I'd actually prefer that book but it's enormous. Maybe somebody has published a multi-volume edition.

Also Heilbroner has a noticeably incomplete account of Keynes' personal life, but what can I expect of a book from that era (1st ed 1943, Rev ed 1961).