Goodreads: King Harald's Saga

King Harald's Saga
Snorri Sturluson

Good stuff Snorri! Western Europe in the 11th century was violent and action packed. Snorri captures this exceptionally well in the saga of King Harald. What I enjoy about this account is the writing style. It's witty, economical and sharp. While the stories of other sagas or even ancient epic poetry might be more enthralling, there is something about Snorri's writing style that makes him almost more enjoyable to read. I think it might be the fact that he moves the story along without repeating himself over and over again. I'm looking forward to trying to squeeze another Viking Saga in before New Year, though my night stand collection of books may prevent this from coming to fruition.

Busted Flush

Life has become
Fairly disappointing:
Shouldn't have chased dreams
Shouldn't have chased the rush
Cause here I sit:
Four cards good.
A busted flush.

The Scent of India

This is an interesting little travel journal that sheds about as much light on the subject of India as the Italian author's background. There are bits of western-centric thinking throughout the book and it's hard in these hyper vigilant times to see past that. I'm not generally too upset by it, but it's rather noticeable in this particular book. However, if one can overcome that drawback and accept the book as something as a product of its time, then you see that Pasolini did enjoy his time in India and seems to recommend the trip. It probably focused too much on the poverty of India in a way that felt almost voyeuristic, as I think that a slum tour of Mumbai would do today. But like the slum tours, which provide the residents with income that would not come otherwise, the book is useful in that it shines a light on the subject of India. As we prepare to head there in April I'm glad to have read the book, though India's modernization in the past fifty years may see our trip as having a very different look to it than that of Pasolini's. However, I think that what Pasolini set out to do was to provide an impression of his trip and the fact that he focuses on the feel of the environment and the assault on the senses that India provides, it may be a very similar trip. "That smell of poor food and of corpses which in India is like the continuous powerful air current that gives one a kind of fever. And that odour which, little by little, becomes an almost living physical entity, seems to interrupt the normal course of life in the body of the Indians. Its breath, attacking those little bodies covered in their light and filthy linen, seems to corrode them, forcing itself to sprout, to reach a human embodiment" (Pasolini, 51). In this short passage you see the observations that seem to cement his view of India as being dirty and poor and the environment being the natural conditions to produce a dirty and poor society. But, you also get the feeling of the overwhelming power of the land and his recognition of its power. Overall it was a good read and I'm not upset for having discovered Pasolini by mistake in a dollar bin at a book store.

Dear Malta

Dear England:

I wrote to you a number of years ago with no response. Again I find myself at the beginning stages of the American election cycle. Again I find myself face...

Well. England has a bit of a Brexit problem. I probably won't get a response. That's probably true of all the islands right there and thereabouts.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Malta,

Thank you for a taking a moment to read my request for asylum. As you may have noticed in the past few years The United States of America has become a beacon of mental instability. We are so divided and so full of hate that we can't seem to enjoy anything any more without it being somehow offensive to someone else. Then to better our civil discourse somebody that neither enjoyed the event nor was offended by the event decides that they should champion the cause of the offended (who probably had already forgotten that they were offended). These champions of justice or, social warriors as they are both righteously and pejoratively called, create the echo chamber in which hate takes shape. Other unconnected people with an exactly opposite political bent then weigh in on the matter which they knew nothing about until the social warrior had brought the obscure event to their attention. From this exchange creates a back and forth that is nothing short of abject hatred. Never mind that the two arguing parties have more in common with one another than differences and that temperamentally they are suited to be excellent friends. Their political differences, these political ideals that govern all their conversations and none of their daily actions, are too self-important and prevent any kind of kindredship between the parties. This process is repeated millions times a day and then plastered all over the internet and fed to us as news.

I was so wearied by the Republican Primaries in the last election that by the time of the General Election debates you could have knocked me over with a feather. The candidates decided to complete their easy task with sledge hammers. Through the whole year I found myself waiting, desperately for November to come and put a silence to the madness that was the election build-up. I figured of course, that the election would solve the problem. Election day would be a deafening crescendo for sure. Then for a week or two the losing side would raise holy hell but slowly their disappointment and anger would dissipate into the more comfortable resignation. I admit that I thought it would not matter who won. One candidate would shift to the left upon winning and the other would shift to the right. There would be all sorts of demagoguery in front of the cameras and behind the veil some work would get done. I would get a respite from the relentless nature of the previous campaign.

That however has not been the case. The holy hell was raised and it kept on raising. Three years in and we are still hearing about a stolen election. Nothing is really being done in Washington but its forked tongue is screaming out warnings and apocalyptic narratives at such a pace that it is nearly impossible to make sense of the whole. So instead of making sense of the whole we latch on to a single narrative thread and treat it as the main plot and color our entire worldview around it. A birth certificate? Some Tax Reports? Quid pro quo? Deep state? Which of these one attaches ones self to will change the way the world is at appears to the holder. It makes communication across imaginary political lines impossible and the few that try are labeled traitors to their kind, even if they did not know that they had a kind prior to becoming a traitor.

It's all exhausting. The modern world as it is means that the election cycle is going to be brutal. But, that should last a year for most, average Americans. The political junkies and the local politicians have chosen their vice and let the suffer its consequences as they reap its benefits. I want no part of that. In this new world the election cycle seems to have no end. If one is reelected then we have another four years of all the chaos on top of the year we already have left. If he is removed through anything by other than the election it will be seen as a coup d'etat even by a large portion of moderates because there will be no true smoking gun. The closest that has come so far is the Mulvaney quip about getting over it. I think, through no intention or planning on his part, Trump has been the most transparent of all Presidents in modern history. Mulvaney basically said that, "America puts political pressure on people to achieve its agenda. This is how it's been done for years. You know it. I know it. Nothing new here. Move along". He's right. He's just an idiot it for saying it. But he's a genius for saying it because it will rile up a vocal part of the base with him using the system against itself. This will be spun as a heroic act in some circles. Others won't even know how to understand this logic, let alone how to responds. There will be rage. If one of the Democrats win there could very well be a smattering of small wannabe militias roaming the streets causing unrest after the election. There could be people out there in the name of journalism provoking violent reaction to the election so that they can gain clicks regardless of which side wins. I want no part of that.

I am writing you today to ask for a way to come and stay with you. I am willing to work, I simply require the legal framework from you. Please don't turn me away because I'm too tired to deal with this for the rest of my life, which will be greatly shortened by being bombarded by this nonsense at every waking hour.

Yours Truly.

Goodreads: Dead Souls

I loved Diary of a Madman, The Nose and The Overcoat. I did not love Dead Souls. The writing in the book is excellent. The story was less so. I believe Gogol might have been on to something when he set out to destroy the manuscript. The book reminds me of listening to an artist tell you how he came up with the song. A couple of great lines were written and then some filler was added. Slowly the filler was replaced and finally totally removed so that the final product can be presented. Dead Souls, which finishes mid sentence, is somehow considered a complete work. I don’t think Gogol would have considered it finished. It being unfinished reminds me of Kafka’s The Castle. His use of a narrator’s voice in providing author’s notes and context to the plot remind me of Vonnegut’s Timequake. Overall, I preferred both Kafka and Vonnegut to Gogol. Both Kafka and Gogol tackle the absurdity of the bureaucracy of their world in their works. What I found in Kafka was a resignation to the situation and a resolve to carry on a duty in the face of its futility. What I saw in Gogol’s approach was a stretch to create a moral imperative out of doing one’s duty. In that way I found Kafka’s book much more true to life. In Timequake I thought Vonnegut’s use of his narrator breaking the fourth wall was more effective because it fit in better with the overall feel to the book. Gogol’s use of it makes it feel as if the device has been superimposed on the story. While it informs the plot and deepens the story it feels like reading the book and a commentary on the book simultaneously. It loses something of its magic in the execution. What also made Gogol less entertaining to read compared to the other two was his lack of biting humor. He has it. He seems to have left it out to be more gentle to the subject he loves, Russia. Kafka and Vonnegut are much more ruthless in their satire of their respective worlds. Gogol’s lack of a cutting edge in the book makes it feel like a limp-wristed hand shake. But in shaking hands with this novel one can’t help but be impressed by the softness of its touch or the beauty of its form. That’s why it gets three stars instead of two for me. Plus, Chichikov is way less likable than K. or Kilgore Trout.

Tonight

Tonight we dance.
Tonight we mourn.
Beneath the moon.
Beneath the stars.

The pale moonlight bathes the beach.
The waves crash along the jagged shore.
I sit watching.
Beneath the moon.
Beneath the stars.

With every wave the ocean
Deposits what it wills
Then drags back the sand from the shore.
Unsuspecting grains of sand
are drowned at the bottom of the sea.

Tonight we dance.
Tonight we mourn.
Beneath the moon.
Beneath the stars.

Goodreads: Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot

Four Quartets
T.S. Eliot

This is a collection of four poems: Burnt Norton, East Coker, The Dry Salvages and Little Gidding. Of the four I think I enjoyed East Coker and Burnt Norton the most, followed by The Dry Salvages and way at the bottom would I rank Little Gidding. But I don't read much poetry and wouldn't be the greatest judge of it and it would be entirely possible for me to reread the book later on and find my order of best to worst to be inverted. So much of poetry is capturing a mood between the poet and the reader and when the reader is not in the mood to be caught in a mood even the best poets may struggle. Overall the four poems together are good. There are a few lines that Eliot writes in these four that jumped off the page for me.

Burnt Norton II

"Only through time time is conquered"

Burnt Norton III

"Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration"

Burnt Norton V

"That which is only living can only die. Words, after speech, reach into silence".

East Coker I

"In my beginning is my end"

East Coker II

"The only wisdom we can hope to acquire
is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless"

East Coker III

"In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not"

The Dry Salvages II

"We cannot think ... of a future that is not liable like the past, to have no destination"

"We had the experience but missed the meaning"

Little Gidding V

"And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time"

Eliot seems to be struggling with something in these poems. He is struggling with time itself. Has it all been wasted in his choices? Have we been distracted by empty, meaningless things as time has passed us by? I think I like these poems because while Eliot acknowledges this struggle he is ultimately optimistic in his outlook. Sure, we struggled after the experience and missed the meaning, but ultimately all the roads will eventually lead us to home where we will be contented.