Book Reviews
A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson
Kitchen Confidential, by Anthony Bourdain
Unaccustomed Earth, by Jhumpa Lahiri
Back to Blood, by Tom Wolfe
April Fool's Day, by Bryce Courtenay
Republic, Lost: How Money Corrupts Congress, and a Plan to Stop It, by Lawrence Lessig
The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas
Oscar and Lucinda, by Peter Carey
Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, by John Perkins
First, they send the Economic Hit Men. Their job is to assess a developing country and make rosy economic projections for the next twenty years, in order to justify massive loans from organizations such as the World Bank to be used on infrastructure development projects (necessary if there is going to be such a boom). The contracts for these projects are, of course, handed out to American firms cozy with the federal government. The loans are made on the assumption that the developing country will never be able to pay back a sum of such size, and thus will be beholden to the interests of supreme global powers, namely the US government.
If the Economic Hit Men fail to do their job, or if the foreign leader is behaving in manner deemed to be unacceptable to US interests, they send in the jackals, or CIA hit men to finish the job. Don't believe it? Wikipedia Omar Torrijos and Jaime Roldos. If for whatever reason that fails to seal the deal, we use the third option, the military. One only needs to read up on Manuel Noriega to realize that this is no joke, and from then on, the idea of a ruling "corporatocracy", doesn't seem so far-fetched.
Confessions is John Perkins' memoirs of his time as an Economic Hit Man, told in a shameful fashion that makes you believe Perkins really does want to do all he can to reverse the catastrophic damage he meted out on countries such as Indonesia, Panama, and Saudi Arabia in the '70s and '80s. This is an essential book for anyone wondering who really runs the show.
First, they send the Economic Hit Men. Their job is to assess a developing country and make rosy economic projections for the next twenty years, in order to justify massive loans from organizations such as the World Bank to be used on infrastructure development projects (necessary if there is going to be such a boom). The contracts for these projects are, of course, handed out to American firms cozy with the federal government. The loans are made on the assumption that the developing country will never be able to pay back a sum of such size, and thus will be beholden to the interests of supreme global powers, namely the US government.
If the Economic Hit Men fail to do their job, or if the foreign leader is behaving in manner deemed to be unacceptable to US interests, they send in the jackals, or CIA hit men to finish the job. Don't believe it? Wikipedia Omar Torrijos and Jaime Roldos. If for whatever reason that fails to seal the deal, we use the third option, the military. One only needs to read up on Manuel Noriega to realize that this is no joke, and from then on, the idea of a ruling "corporatocracy", doesn't seem so far-fetched.
Confessions is John Perkins' memoirs of his time as an Economic Hit Man, told in a shameful fashion that makes you believe Perkins really does want to do all he can to reverse the catastrophic damage he meted out on countries such as Indonesia, Panama, and Saudi Arabia in the '70s and '80s. This is an essential book for anyone wondering who really runs the show.
The Devil and Miss Prym, by Paulo Coelho
Coelho's books are like little parables, where you are guaranteed to be entertained by mysticism and enchanted by tales of faraway lands for a few hours, yet you still emerge from the experience deep in thought about any number of life's more meaningful dilemmas. In The Devil and Miss Prym, Coelho tackles the concept of good vs. evil: are humans, at their very core, left to their own devices, naturally good, or naturally evil? When no one is watching them, will they take the high road, and live up to the ideals that they may attribute to themselves in times of fairer weather? Or will they utilize the opportunity to, in this case, get away with murder when they believe they will face no earthly consequences for the dastardly deed?
With a spell-binding narrative, Coelho explores human nature in it's rawest form, and comes to a conclusion so obvious that it leaves the reader both stunned and inspired in the vast potential of the very human race.
Coelho's books are like little parables, where you are guaranteed to be entertained by mysticism and enchanted by tales of faraway lands for a few hours, yet you still emerge from the experience deep in thought about any number of life's more meaningful dilemmas. In The Devil and Miss Prym, Coelho tackles the concept of good vs. evil: are humans, at their very core, left to their own devices, naturally good, or naturally evil? When no one is watching them, will they take the high road, and live up to the ideals that they may attribute to themselves in times of fairer weather? Or will they utilize the opportunity to, in this case, get away with murder when they believe they will face no earthly consequences for the dastardly deed?
With a spell-binding narrative, Coelho explores human nature in it's rawest form, and comes to a conclusion so obvious that it leaves the reader both stunned and inspired in the vast potential of the very human race.
Ishmael: An Adventure of the Mind and Spirit, by Daniel Quinn
The only book in recent memory that I have read three times, and one I recommend to anyone with whom I get into a debate about the role of humanity in caring for our environment. Set as a Socratic dialogue between an unnamed man and a gorilla named Ishmael, the beast acts as an enlightened spokesman for the natural world and makes you question our very way of life here on this planet.
Ishmael teaches that it is only within the last 10,000 years, which is a pittance in the overall scheme of the universe, that mankind has begun to produce it's own food (through agricultural means), thereby removing our species from living amongst the natural order of this earth. We no longer live and die at the whims of "the gods", life and the ability to produce more and more life, since we control our own food supply, is fully within our capacity.
It is the belief of our culture that the world was made for man, and thus it is our right to reproduce boundlessly and conquer all the natural world has to offer. But is this a way to live that will truly allow us to live in harmony with the earth, or are we headed on a crash course towards destruction from our senseless pillaging of the environment? It's up to you and I to decide...
The only book in recent memory that I have read three times, and one I recommend to anyone with whom I get into a debate about the role of humanity in caring for our environment. Set as a Socratic dialogue between an unnamed man and a gorilla named Ishmael, the beast acts as an enlightened spokesman for the natural world and makes you question our very way of life here on this planet.
Ishmael teaches that it is only within the last 10,000 years, which is a pittance in the overall scheme of the universe, that mankind has begun to produce it's own food (through agricultural means), thereby removing our species from living amongst the natural order of this earth. We no longer live and die at the whims of "the gods", life and the ability to produce more and more life, since we control our own food supply, is fully within our capacity.
It is the belief of our culture that the world was made for man, and thus it is our right to reproduce boundlessly and conquer all the natural world has to offer. But is this a way to live that will truly allow us to live in harmony with the earth, or are we headed on a crash course towards destruction from our senseless pillaging of the environment? It's up to you and I to decide...
One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
I've long heard praise sung for Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his work; well known as one of the most prolific authors to come out of Latin America in the past 100 years, I was greatly looking forward to my first foray into his world. While I can certainly see the merit which One Hundred Years of Solitude achieved as a fictional history encapsulating the trials and tribulations of the peoples of Colombia, this novel lacked a certain narrative arc that I find necessary to keep me reading.
Using elements of magical realism, a writing technique where certain unnatural phenomena occur and are presented as normal in the course of the storyline (such as a child being born with the tail of a pig), Marquez tells the hundred year history of the small town of Macondo through the experiences of the Buendia family. While surely a masterful social critique that I might appreciate more if I was intimately familiar with the history of the region he writes about, main characters (almost all of which are named Aureliano or Jose Arcadio) come and go quite fluidly, leaving the reader little chance to form any real emotional connection with their individual conflict, and quite confused as to which generation of Aureliano's are currently being written about.
While I can see that this is an important book and a worthwhile read, finishing it was as enjoyable a task as Jose Arcadio's daily necessities, which Marquez took such pains to describe.
I've long heard praise sung for Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his work; well known as one of the most prolific authors to come out of Latin America in the past 100 years, I was greatly looking forward to my first foray into his world. While I can certainly see the merit which One Hundred Years of Solitude achieved as a fictional history encapsulating the trials and tribulations of the peoples of Colombia, this novel lacked a certain narrative arc that I find necessary to keep me reading.
Using elements of magical realism, a writing technique where certain unnatural phenomena occur and are presented as normal in the course of the storyline (such as a child being born with the tail of a pig), Marquez tells the hundred year history of the small town of Macondo through the experiences of the Buendia family. While surely a masterful social critique that I might appreciate more if I was intimately familiar with the history of the region he writes about, main characters (almost all of which are named Aureliano or Jose Arcadio) come and go quite fluidly, leaving the reader little chance to form any real emotional connection with their individual conflict, and quite confused as to which generation of Aureliano's are currently being written about.
While I can see that this is an important book and a worthwhile read, finishing it was as enjoyable a task as Jose Arcadio's daily necessities, which Marquez took such pains to describe.
The Post-Birthday World, by Lionel Shriver
Shriver is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors, one whose book I will purchase and read without so much as a second thought. In The Post-Birthday World, Shriver uses an interesting technique to examine Irina McGovern's life, or should I say, lives. The first few chapters set the scene of Irina's relatively idyllic life as an expat American living comfortably in London with her long-time partner Lawrence, a fellow at a prestigious think-tank. Irina and Lawrence have a yearly tradition of going out to dinner with their friend Ramsey Acton, a professional snooker player, every year on his birthday.
The tale takes an interesting twist when Irina finds herself alone with Ramsey on his birthday, and things become hot and heavy. We never quite find out if anything happened between them since the rest of the novel is told via interlocking chapters, each telling a parallel storyline: one in which nothing happens and she stays with Lawrence, and one in which she leaves Lawrence for Ramsey.
This method of storytelling works as a fascinating tool to examine one of the most important facets of human development: love, and it's varying forms. Should you remain in a comfortable, stable relationship that will provide for your most basic needs, or pursue a wild, passionate love that will leave you unsettled at your base, but leave you feeling alive inside? Shriver masterfully crafts a narrative that explores the ins and outs of romantic and passionate love, and leaves you thinking about what means the most to you...which is it going to be?
Shriver is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors, one whose book I will purchase and read without so much as a second thought. In The Post-Birthday World, Shriver uses an interesting technique to examine Irina McGovern's life, or should I say, lives. The first few chapters set the scene of Irina's relatively idyllic life as an expat American living comfortably in London with her long-time partner Lawrence, a fellow at a prestigious think-tank. Irina and Lawrence have a yearly tradition of going out to dinner with their friend Ramsey Acton, a professional snooker player, every year on his birthday.
The tale takes an interesting twist when Irina finds herself alone with Ramsey on his birthday, and things become hot and heavy. We never quite find out if anything happened between them since the rest of the novel is told via interlocking chapters, each telling a parallel storyline: one in which nothing happens and she stays with Lawrence, and one in which she leaves Lawrence for Ramsey.
This method of storytelling works as a fascinating tool to examine one of the most important facets of human development: love, and it's varying forms. Should you remain in a comfortable, stable relationship that will provide for your most basic needs, or pursue a wild, passionate love that will leave you unsettled at your base, but leave you feeling alive inside? Shriver masterfully crafts a narrative that explores the ins and outs of romantic and passionate love, and leaves you thinking about what means the most to you...which is it going to be?
A Most Wanted Man, by John Le Carre
I'm generally a big fan of spy novels and the like with the stipulation that they are well-written and keep you hooked. Despite being recognized as the all-time grandmaster of the spy thriller, I've never really had a soft spot for Le Carre, much preferring the contemporary conflict of Vince Flynn's Mitch Rapp series. However, Le Carre has broken out of the box with this novel, and I would advise anyone picking it up to leave behind all preconceived notions of what you expect when reading a presumably formulaic paperback. The characters are developed well enough for you to empathize with their plights, and it is plain to see what views they are meant to personify in today's wacky world of terror. With A Most Wanted Man, Le Carre has certainly updated his narrative structure to the issues of the 21st century, and will leave you deep in thought about the role of terrorism in international policy long after you put this down.
I'm generally a big fan of spy novels and the like with the stipulation that they are well-written and keep you hooked. Despite being recognized as the all-time grandmaster of the spy thriller, I've never really had a soft spot for Le Carre, much preferring the contemporary conflict of Vince Flynn's Mitch Rapp series. However, Le Carre has broken out of the box with this novel, and I would advise anyone picking it up to leave behind all preconceived notions of what you expect when reading a presumably formulaic paperback. The characters are developed well enough for you to empathize with their plights, and it is plain to see what views they are meant to personify in today's wacky world of terror. With A Most Wanted Man, Le Carre has certainly updated his narrative structure to the issues of the 21st century, and will leave you deep in thought about the role of terrorism in international policy long after you put this down.
The Road, by Cormac McCarthy
This is a book I've heard about every now and then, always in a positive context. Unfortunately, I would have to greatly disagree with this notion; set in an undated post-apocalyptic America, McCarthy tells the tale of a man and his young son on their never-ending quest to stick to the Road, in search of...survival? We are never clued in as to what catastrophic event might have occurred to leave such a bleak landscape, nor as to what stroke of luck befell the man and his son to spare them from the presumably untimely end of the rest of the civilization. We are expected to accept these circumstances without question and form an emotional connection to the plight of these unnamed characters. Written in a terse, spartan style reminiscent of Coetzee, McCarthy spares not a word that he can save, which certainly makes for an easy read, yet also a quite uninspiring one. Some people might buy into this method of story-telling, but I need much more than this to keep me hooked. I'd pass on this one if there's anything else worthwhile to read.
This is a book I've heard about every now and then, always in a positive context. Unfortunately, I would have to greatly disagree with this notion; set in an undated post-apocalyptic America, McCarthy tells the tale of a man and his young son on their never-ending quest to stick to the Road, in search of...survival? We are never clued in as to what catastrophic event might have occurred to leave such a bleak landscape, nor as to what stroke of luck befell the man and his son to spare them from the presumably untimely end of the rest of the civilization. We are expected to accept these circumstances without question and form an emotional connection to the plight of these unnamed characters. Written in a terse, spartan style reminiscent of Coetzee, McCarthy spares not a word that he can save, which certainly makes for an easy read, yet also a quite uninspiring one. Some people might buy into this method of story-telling, but I need much more than this to keep me hooked. I'd pass on this one if there's anything else worthwhile to read.
By The Seat of My Pants: Humorous Tales of Travel & Misadventure, Edited by Don George
This was a cute little collection of 30-odd short stories from various travel writers about adventures they’ve had over the years. Since it was a semi-interesting-looking paperback on the free shelf, I had to pick it up since it is not all that often I have the chance to read a physical book here (I mostly read on my Kindle).
It seems most travel writers have a formula they follow, compelled to outdo each other with more and more obscure experiences and showy observational wit when describing them, but I enjoyed this nonetheless. If nothing else, it’s made me give thought to the prospect of writing some short stories myself about some of the things I encounter here in Australia- so perhaps the blog will take a little turn, from these broad-overarching posts, to a little experiment with descriptive story-telling!
This was a cute little collection of 30-odd short stories from various travel writers about adventures they’ve had over the years. Since it was a semi-interesting-looking paperback on the free shelf, I had to pick it up since it is not all that often I have the chance to read a physical book here (I mostly read on my Kindle).
It seems most travel writers have a formula they follow, compelled to outdo each other with more and more obscure experiences and showy observational wit when describing them, but I enjoyed this nonetheless. If nothing else, it’s made me give thought to the prospect of writing some short stories myself about some of the things I encounter here in Australia- so perhaps the blog will take a little turn, from these broad-overarching posts, to a little experiment with descriptive story-telling!
Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years, Volume 1, by Mark Lewisohn
To call this tome a comprehensive biography of the Beatles would be quite an understatement. This is the first volume of a trilogy examining with a fine-tooth comb virtually every conceivable aspect of the Beatles’ extraordinary rise to stardom from their beginnings in the grungy underground rock clubs of post-war Liverpool.
It has always fascinated me that a band was able to produce music that had such a profound and lasting effect on a generation that it is still widely heard today, but what I always found truly compelling was how four lads could be so very much on the same wavelength with what they wanted to accomplish with their lives that they stuck together for as long as they did. In my opinion, what Tune In so brilliantly accomplishes is the examination of the cohesive nature of the Beatles bond that drove them to change the very way we define music.
Anyone interested not only in the series of events that shaped the fates of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but in the radical changes effected by their records in the early '60s would greatly enjoy this read. My only negative words are that the author’s project is so substantial that the next volume is projected to be published until 2020, so it will be quite some time before I can enjoy this brilliant narrative.
To call this tome a comprehensive biography of the Beatles would be quite an understatement. This is the first volume of a trilogy examining with a fine-tooth comb virtually every conceivable aspect of the Beatles’ extraordinary rise to stardom from their beginnings in the grungy underground rock clubs of post-war Liverpool.
It has always fascinated me that a band was able to produce music that had such a profound and lasting effect on a generation that it is still widely heard today, but what I always found truly compelling was how four lads could be so very much on the same wavelength with what they wanted to accomplish with their lives that they stuck together for as long as they did. In my opinion, what Tune In so brilliantly accomplishes is the examination of the cohesive nature of the Beatles bond that drove them to change the very way we define music.
Anyone interested not only in the series of events that shaped the fates of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but in the radical changes effected by their records in the early '60s would greatly enjoy this read. My only negative words are that the author’s project is so substantial that the next volume is projected to be published until 2020, so it will be quite some time before I can enjoy this brilliant narrative.
The Idle Traveller: The Art of Slow Travel, by Dan Kieran
The Idle Traveller is a kind of manifesto for the approach to life that I find myself currently taking. Here we find the author extolling the benefits of “slow travel”—the leisurely pursuit of getting from point A to point B, in this case necessitated by a fear of flying.
Kieran is an advocate of the philosophy which dictates that if we only took the time to drink in the beauty in that which surrounds us on a daily basis, that we would all find ourselves leading lives enriched by the wonders that surround oneself in the simplest of surroundings…from the meditative benefits of a long train ride, to the appreciation of journeying to a destination rather than simply arriving. What travel truly is, is an opportunity to remove oneself from familiar settings in order to better appreciate the simple wonders we so often overlook.
Rather than seeing travel as a hectic, harried journey to an exotic destination to get away from it all, travel should be enjoyed as an opportunity to remove yourself from the comfortable routine of your familiar existence to give oneself the chance to look upon things and appreciate them in a new way, even if your experience is simply walking a route in your own neighborhood where you are used to racing through in a car, not paying heed to anything which surrounds you. In short, idle travel is much more a mindset than an activity, nourishment for your personal self rather than for your Facebook wall.
The Idle Traveller is a kind of manifesto for the approach to life that I find myself currently taking. Here we find the author extolling the benefits of “slow travel”—the leisurely pursuit of getting from point A to point B, in this case necessitated by a fear of flying.
Kieran is an advocate of the philosophy which dictates that if we only took the time to drink in the beauty in that which surrounds us on a daily basis, that we would all find ourselves leading lives enriched by the wonders that surround oneself in the simplest of surroundings…from the meditative benefits of a long train ride, to the appreciation of journeying to a destination rather than simply arriving. What travel truly is, is an opportunity to remove oneself from familiar settings in order to better appreciate the simple wonders we so often overlook.
Rather than seeing travel as a hectic, harried journey to an exotic destination to get away from it all, travel should be enjoyed as an opportunity to remove yourself from the comfortable routine of your familiar existence to give oneself the chance to look upon things and appreciate them in a new way, even if your experience is simply walking a route in your own neighborhood where you are used to racing through in a car, not paying heed to anything which surrounds you. In short, idle travel is much more a mindset than an activity, nourishment for your personal self rather than for your Facebook wall.
What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets, by Michael Sandel
This is Sandel’s second book that I’ve read. The first one, Justice, deals with competing versions of how societies should be organized and what behaviors they should choose to punish and reward in order to best serve the needs of their citizens. From utilitarianism, which advocates the greatest good for the greatest number of people, to libertarianism, which advocates the freedom of individual rights above all else, Sandel picked apart each one of these philosophies and showed their merits and pitfalls. Given close criticism is the power of the free market, vigorously defended in the 21st century, yet a infantile premise in the grand scheme of history.
The Moral Limits of Markets takes this game to a whole new level. In it, Sandel argues that 21st century America is largely and unabashedly governed by market forces, a fact that we’ve been conditioned to believe is acceptable. However, it’s an argument that I personally agree with that in the highly developed first-world society we call our own, there are a number of services that the government should facilitate a fair and equal framework for without the influence of the almighty dollar. Major industries such as university education and healthcare are increasingly governed by for-profit entities that do not necessarily advocate for the best interests of those they are supposed to benefit.
It’s a sad reality that the idea that free markets will provide just solutions to problems is beyond reproach, but it is also a very tangible one. The first step is starting a dialogue about the issue, that there is indeed a moral limit to the power of markets.
This is Sandel’s second book that I’ve read. The first one, Justice, deals with competing versions of how societies should be organized and what behaviors they should choose to punish and reward in order to best serve the needs of their citizens. From utilitarianism, which advocates the greatest good for the greatest number of people, to libertarianism, which advocates the freedom of individual rights above all else, Sandel picked apart each one of these philosophies and showed their merits and pitfalls. Given close criticism is the power of the free market, vigorously defended in the 21st century, yet a infantile premise in the grand scheme of history.
The Moral Limits of Markets takes this game to a whole new level. In it, Sandel argues that 21st century America is largely and unabashedly governed by market forces, a fact that we’ve been conditioned to believe is acceptable. However, it’s an argument that I personally agree with that in the highly developed first-world society we call our own, there are a number of services that the government should facilitate a fair and equal framework for without the influence of the almighty dollar. Major industries such as university education and healthcare are increasingly governed by for-profit entities that do not necessarily advocate for the best interests of those they are supposed to benefit.
It’s a sad reality that the idea that free markets will provide just solutions to problems is beyond reproach, but it is also a very tangible one. The first step is starting a dialogue about the issue, that there is indeed a moral limit to the power of markets.
Disgrace, by J.M. Coetzee
Coming highly recommended from a friend, I had great expectations for this book, that, upon extended reflection, have not been fulfilled. Coetzee writes with a terse, almost staccato-like style that is effective at times, provided the narrative is captivating enough to keep you interested in the story. The protagonist is one David Lurie, a professor of communication studies who seduces (for lack of a better word) one of his students and resigns from the University after a bizarre and unexplained unwillingness to take responsibility for the fact that his actions were, in a sense, wrong.
The scope of the novel suddenly shifts to the South African countryside, where Lurie's daughter runs a small farm on which he takes refuge to contemplate his 'fall from grace' and get his professional life back in order. Here we see Coetzee examine post-apartheid South African social tensions via the various relationships and conflicts in the countryside, a shift which I personally found to be to the novel's detriment. I'm always irritated by books and films which excite you for a particular kind of conflict, only to yank the rug out from underneath you and recast the focus on a completely different issue.
Disgrace is a novel filled with layers of interpretation of what it means to be disgraced, and which might provoke some entertaining discussions in collegiate-level English 101, but I personally found the resonance this book is supposed to cast lacking. I'd be quite interested to have a discussion with someone else who read it, but I would not (at this time) recommend anyone do so.
Coming highly recommended from a friend, I had great expectations for this book, that, upon extended reflection, have not been fulfilled. Coetzee writes with a terse, almost staccato-like style that is effective at times, provided the narrative is captivating enough to keep you interested in the story. The protagonist is one David Lurie, a professor of communication studies who seduces (for lack of a better word) one of his students and resigns from the University after a bizarre and unexplained unwillingness to take responsibility for the fact that his actions were, in a sense, wrong.
The scope of the novel suddenly shifts to the South African countryside, where Lurie's daughter runs a small farm on which he takes refuge to contemplate his 'fall from grace' and get his professional life back in order. Here we see Coetzee examine post-apartheid South African social tensions via the various relationships and conflicts in the countryside, a shift which I personally found to be to the novel's detriment. I'm always irritated by books and films which excite you for a particular kind of conflict, only to yank the rug out from underneath you and recast the focus on a completely different issue.
Disgrace is a novel filled with layers of interpretation of what it means to be disgraced, and which might provoke some entertaining discussions in collegiate-level English 101, but I personally found the resonance this book is supposed to cast lacking. I'd be quite interested to have a discussion with someone else who read it, but I would not (at this time) recommend anyone do so.
Out of Character: Surprising truths about the Liar, Cheat, Sinner (and Saint) lurking in all of us, by David DeSteno and Piercarlo Valdesolo
A cute little 200-pager that you can bang out in a day or two, Out of Character is one of those fun-to-read yet edifying psychological examinations of human nature, in this case examining how our moral compass and sense of right and wrong are not rock solid personality traits, rather they are fluid reactions to given sets of circumstances.
Is pride a valuable human trait? If so, when does pride become hubris, generally acknowledged as a negative character trait? How does our emotional state affect our willingness to take risks, or seek rewards? How is gratitude an emotional state which evolved as a means to building trust and loyalty among humans? These are just some of the issues which the authors address.
Delving into the evolutionary imperative to survive above all else, DeSteno and Valdesolo focus on the inner battle between our short-term interests (those of the grasshopper), and our long-term interests (those of the ant). Oftentimes decisions which give us pleasure or safety in the short term are detrimental to our long-term survival.
I'd recommend this book to anyone interested in why humans behave the way they do in a given set of circumstances. You'll come to find that we humans are driven by a set of biological imperatives hard at work, unbeknownst to us, and that making yourself aware of these forces that drive our decision-making process can help us to develop, for lack of a better term, a better character.
A cute little 200-pager that you can bang out in a day or two, Out of Character is one of those fun-to-read yet edifying psychological examinations of human nature, in this case examining how our moral compass and sense of right and wrong are not rock solid personality traits, rather they are fluid reactions to given sets of circumstances.
Is pride a valuable human trait? If so, when does pride become hubris, generally acknowledged as a negative character trait? How does our emotional state affect our willingness to take risks, or seek rewards? How is gratitude an emotional state which evolved as a means to building trust and loyalty among humans? These are just some of the issues which the authors address.
Delving into the evolutionary imperative to survive above all else, DeSteno and Valdesolo focus on the inner battle between our short-term interests (those of the grasshopper), and our long-term interests (those of the ant). Oftentimes decisions which give us pleasure or safety in the short term are detrimental to our long-term survival.
I'd recommend this book to anyone interested in why humans behave the way they do in a given set of circumstances. You'll come to find that we humans are driven by a set of biological imperatives hard at work, unbeknownst to us, and that making yourself aware of these forces that drive our decision-making process can help us to develop, for lack of a better term, a better character.
Be Here Now, by Ram Dass
Ram Dass was originally born Richard Alpert to a wealthy Boston family. After years of schooling, he obtained his PhD in psychology from Stanford, and began teaching at Harvard, where he was involved with Timothy Leary and some of the earliest experiments with LSD. These experiences eventually lead to a journey to India in search of spiritual enlightenment, the principles of which are expounded upon in Be Here Now.
Be Here Now details the transformation of Richard Alpert to Ram Dass, citing his search for deeper meaning in life as one of the main reasons why he left behind the prosperous but spiritually deficient life he led as a Harvard professor. It describes, in detail, the practices and ethos by which he lives his new life, including meditation practices, dietary regimens, and how to approach relationships in a more loving and constructive manner.
While at times somewhat dry, I found the narrative quite captivating- Alpert was overwhelmingly discontent with the life he was leading and the fulfillment he was deriving from it, and decided to seek an alternative paradigm in which to find happiness and peace- something I can certainly commiserate with.
Ram Dass was originally born Richard Alpert to a wealthy Boston family. After years of schooling, he obtained his PhD in psychology from Stanford, and began teaching at Harvard, where he was involved with Timothy Leary and some of the earliest experiments with LSD. These experiences eventually lead to a journey to India in search of spiritual enlightenment, the principles of which are expounded upon in Be Here Now.
Be Here Now details the transformation of Richard Alpert to Ram Dass, citing his search for deeper meaning in life as one of the main reasons why he left behind the prosperous but spiritually deficient life he led as a Harvard professor. It describes, in detail, the practices and ethos by which he lives his new life, including meditation practices, dietary regimens, and how to approach relationships in a more loving and constructive manner.
While at times somewhat dry, I found the narrative quite captivating- Alpert was overwhelmingly discontent with the life he was leading and the fulfillment he was deriving from it, and decided to seek an alternative paradigm in which to find happiness and peace- something I can certainly commiserate with.
New Europe, by Michael Palin
Early on it struck me as quite fortunate that this writer traveled about Eastern Europe over the course of 4 months and had the opportunity to interview Lech Walesa, sleep in Leonid Brezhnev's old room at a resort in Yalta, and go for a spa treatment with Miss Universe 2006. Quite in character for your sometimes clueless correspondent, I was halfway through before I realized that the author, Michael Palin, made his claim to fame as a member of the Monty Python comedy group. While not necessarily a fan of this camp of humor, enough are that Palin has doors opened to him all across the ex-Eastern Bloc, allowing for the candid examination of the progress these countries have made twenty years after the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Written in diary format with each entry comprised of no more than a few pages, Palin crafts a seamless narrative in which he explores what it means to be European in this day and age. A colorful cast of characters tells their stories and hints to the reader that the rise of capitalism has not meant an improvement in life for all generations. Regardless of the political overtones, this is a great read for anyone interested in a quick, historically rich, travel narrative which has certainly piqued my interested in returning to Eastern Europe.
Early on it struck me as quite fortunate that this writer traveled about Eastern Europe over the course of 4 months and had the opportunity to interview Lech Walesa, sleep in Leonid Brezhnev's old room at a resort in Yalta, and go for a spa treatment with Miss Universe 2006. Quite in character for your sometimes clueless correspondent, I was halfway through before I realized that the author, Michael Palin, made his claim to fame as a member of the Monty Python comedy group. While not necessarily a fan of this camp of humor, enough are that Palin has doors opened to him all across the ex-Eastern Bloc, allowing for the candid examination of the progress these countries have made twenty years after the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Written in diary format with each entry comprised of no more than a few pages, Palin crafts a seamless narrative in which he explores what it means to be European in this day and age. A colorful cast of characters tells their stories and hints to the reader that the rise of capitalism has not meant an improvement in life for all generations. Regardless of the political overtones, this is a great read for anyone interested in a quick, historically rich, travel narrative which has certainly piqued my interested in returning to Eastern Europe.
So Much For That, by Lionel Shriver
After reading Shriver's masterpiece We Need To Talk About Kevin, I couldn't help but pick up a copy of this book when I saw it in the opp shop for $1. The back cover summarized the plight of Shep Knacker, a small businessman who worked for his whole life in New York, wanting only to save up enough money to escape to an island paradise for the rest of his days. This sounded eerily like a weird characterization of my plight from last year and the trio I'm currently on.
However Shep has an added obstacle- the same day he decides to leave everything for destination unknown, his wife is diagnosed with mesothelioma and he has to give up all of his plans to stay home and care for her- and most importantly, provide her with the health insurance that will hopefully save her life.
I read this in 3 days. I love Shriver's use of prose, it flows very naturally and she's not afraid to tackle the big ticket issues of our day such as, in this case, US health insurance. While a wonderful read and certainly thought-provoking, there is little depth to the characters and a lot of the dialogue is not exactly the kind people would have in real life. Each character represents a particular point of view on the health care system, and oftentimes dinner table conversations are weirdly formal; there were a number of times where I found myself thinking that a conversation like this would never happen in real life.
All of this aside however, this is a great read which makes you think about your personal convictions on a number of topics, the most important being how much is one person's life worth, in dollars?
After reading Shriver's masterpiece We Need To Talk About Kevin, I couldn't help but pick up a copy of this book when I saw it in the opp shop for $1. The back cover summarized the plight of Shep Knacker, a small businessman who worked for his whole life in New York, wanting only to save up enough money to escape to an island paradise for the rest of his days. This sounded eerily like a weird characterization of my plight from last year and the trio I'm currently on.
However Shep has an added obstacle- the same day he decides to leave everything for destination unknown, his wife is diagnosed with mesothelioma and he has to give up all of his plans to stay home and care for her- and most importantly, provide her with the health insurance that will hopefully save her life.
I read this in 3 days. I love Shriver's use of prose, it flows very naturally and she's not afraid to tackle the big ticket issues of our day such as, in this case, US health insurance. While a wonderful read and certainly thought-provoking, there is little depth to the characters and a lot of the dialogue is not exactly the kind people would have in real life. Each character represents a particular point of view on the health care system, and oftentimes dinner table conversations are weirdly formal; there were a number of times where I found myself thinking that a conversation like this would never happen in real life.
All of this aside however, this is a great read which makes you think about your personal convictions on a number of topics, the most important being how much is one person's life worth, in dollars?
Justice: What's The Right Thing To Do?, by Michael Sandel
Personally, I find this to be one of the most interesting books I've read in years. I was first turned on to Sandel and his Justice course by an article Tom Friedman had written, referring to him as a rock star of philosophy, something I just had to check out. This book is a summation of Sandel's Justice course, taught at Harvard but also available absolutely free of charge on ItunesU.
Sandel first walks us through the history of justice philosophy, examining the theories of utilitarianism (based on what is best for the most people), libertarianism (based on individual rights), Aristotle's version of the "good life" (based on a life of virtue), and various other competing notions of how societies should be arranged and incentivized in order to be the most just.
With chapters that are short enough to read in one go coupled with interesting, real life dilemmas, Sandel makes the traditionally dry topic of political philosophy eminently readable, and for some, enjoyable. I'd highly recommend this to anyone interested in parsing out their personal philosophies with respect to individual rights versus community obligations, and would happily debate the merits of each over a sniffer or two of fine scotch.
Personally, I find this to be one of the most interesting books I've read in years. I was first turned on to Sandel and his Justice course by an article Tom Friedman had written, referring to him as a rock star of philosophy, something I just had to check out. This book is a summation of Sandel's Justice course, taught at Harvard but also available absolutely free of charge on ItunesU.
Sandel first walks us through the history of justice philosophy, examining the theories of utilitarianism (based on what is best for the most people), libertarianism (based on individual rights), Aristotle's version of the "good life" (based on a life of virtue), and various other competing notions of how societies should be arranged and incentivized in order to be the most just.
With chapters that are short enough to read in one go coupled with interesting, real life dilemmas, Sandel makes the traditionally dry topic of political philosophy eminently readable, and for some, enjoyable. I'd highly recommend this to anyone interested in parsing out their personal philosophies with respect to individual rights versus community obligations, and would happily debate the merits of each over a sniffer or two of fine scotch.
Catch Me If You Can, by Frank Abagnale
The book on which the critically acclaimed movie was based on, Catch Me If You Can is the story of con man Frank Abagnale and his exploits. While certainly embellished and surely many facts and events streamlined for narrative purposes, Abagnale's story is nonetheless fascinating to read.
One of the most striking thoughts I had while reading this is just how difficult it must be to be a con man in today's world. Sure, you can more easily steal someone's banking identity and information, but eventually your tricks are going to catch up with you. In Abagnale's day, the ability to manipulate people was the key to deception, rather than any electronic tomfoolery.
While this tale certainyl glorifies the criminal lifestyle which Abagnale lived for so long, it's a fascinating insight into how people will believe what they want to see even when all rational indicators point towards deception. The ability to deal with people and think on your feet can get you places in life, though in this case, that place was prison.
Anyone who reads this and likes it, or enjoyed the film, should also read Kevin Mitnick's Ghost in the Wires- a tale of a hacker who used social engineering as well has his computer skills to gain access to some of the world's most secretive technology.
The book on which the critically acclaimed movie was based on, Catch Me If You Can is the story of con man Frank Abagnale and his exploits. While certainly embellished and surely many facts and events streamlined for narrative purposes, Abagnale's story is nonetheless fascinating to read.
One of the most striking thoughts I had while reading this is just how difficult it must be to be a con man in today's world. Sure, you can more easily steal someone's banking identity and information, but eventually your tricks are going to catch up with you. In Abagnale's day, the ability to manipulate people was the key to deception, rather than any electronic tomfoolery.
While this tale certainyl glorifies the criminal lifestyle which Abagnale lived for so long, it's a fascinating insight into how people will believe what they want to see even when all rational indicators point towards deception. The ability to deal with people and think on your feet can get you places in life, though in this case, that place was prison.
Anyone who reads this and likes it, or enjoyed the film, should also read Kevin Mitnick's Ghost in the Wires- a tale of a hacker who used social engineering as well has his computer skills to gain access to some of the world's most secretive technology.
The Beach, by Alex Garland
Anyone who's seen the movie and enjoyed it will be pleasantly surprised by the original novel. There are a number of both subtle and overt differences in character development which make it quite worthwhile. Richard is a backpacker traveling through Thailand but is bored of the same old beaten path which is traveled year after year (a sentiment with which I can commiserate), and when a single copy of a map leading to a secret, secluded beach falls into his lap, he decides to set off in search of backpacker's Eden.
What he finds is a small, self-sufficient community of travelers who get live in a splendidly idyllic communist paradise...however, some members of the Beach are a bit too dedicated to the dream of their secluded lifestyle, and Garland explores human nature when left to it's own devices without the interference of our modern system of...responsibility to others.
Anyone who's seen the movie and enjoyed it will be pleasantly surprised by the original novel. There are a number of both subtle and overt differences in character development which make it quite worthwhile. Richard is a backpacker traveling through Thailand but is bored of the same old beaten path which is traveled year after year (a sentiment with which I can commiserate), and when a single copy of a map leading to a secret, secluded beach falls into his lap, he decides to set off in search of backpacker's Eden.
What he finds is a small, self-sufficient community of travelers who get live in a splendidly idyllic communist paradise...however, some members of the Beach are a bit too dedicated to the dream of their secluded lifestyle, and Garland explores human nature when left to it's own devices without the interference of our modern system of...responsibility to others.
Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen, by Christopher McDougall
Murder on the Orient Express, by Agatha Christie
One Day, by David Nicholls
The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho
We Need To Talk About Kevin, by Lionel Shriver
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig
The Game, by Neil Strauss
Before I Go To Sleep, by SJ Watson
Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro
Home Game: An Accidental Guide to Fatherhood, by Michael Lewis
The Snowman, by Jo Nesbo
High Fidelity, by Nick Hornby
Only in New York: How I Took Manhattan (With the Kids), by Caroline Overington
And Then There Were None, by Agatha Christie
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz
A Perfect Spy, by John Le Carre
The Pilgrimage, by Paulo Coelho
The Blind Assassin, by Margaret Atwood
The Sex Lives of Cannibals: Adrift in the Equatorial Pacific, by J. Maarten Troost
Thinner, by Stephen King
The Fatal Shore, by Robert Hughes
This Is How You Lose Her, by Junot Diaz
Motherless Brooklyn, by Jonathan Lethem
Cruising Attitude: Tales of Crashpads, Crew Drama, and Crazy Passengers at 35,000 Feet, by Heather Poole
Do Travel Writers Go to Hell?, by Thomas Kohnstamm
30 Days in Sydney, by Peter Carey
In a Sunburned Country, by Bill Bryson
The Wolf of Wall Street, by Jordan Belfort
"The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read." -Mark Twain