No time for a post -- things are a bit hectic (in a good way) and I'll resume posting in a week or two. However, I read this New York Times article this morning, and it gave me food for thought:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/10/opinion/no-more-adventures-in-wonderland.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha212
What do you think?
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Monday, October 10, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Laughter: The Best Medicine
As one grows older, those occasions in which a good, long belly laugh occurs grow fewer and farther between. As children, so much of what we saw and read and experienced was just so funny! Like the knock-knock jokes we told endlessly, to very very patient parents who concealed their rolling eyes and giggled politely. Where did the humor in life disappear to?
It hasn't gone anywhere, but if you are normal (or approximating normal) you have matured to the extent that what seemed hilarious at age 7, or 12, or 16, seems gross, or dumb, or sophomoric in your 20's or 30's. This is a bit of a disappointment, in a way; kids have it so easy when they need a laugh. Pick up a volume in the My Weird School series, and they're laughing all the way home. Whereas mature adults such as ourselves will seldom find that kind of satisfaction in a book anymore; hence, this post.
Donald Westlake has been around for years; I haven't read all of his books yet but I've read most of the Dortmunder series. These books, centering around a group of bumbling thieves, is as close to slapstick as one gets in literature. Dortmunder is just so pathetic -- but the situations he falls into are ridiculously amusing, and so are his friends. I especially like Stan.
If you want to be amused in a useful sort of way, the nonfiction of Bill Bryson is the way to go. Whether expounding on hiking the Appalachians (A Walk in the Woods), the English language (Mother Tongue), or the history of the home (At Home), he is relentlessly funny. The only one that disappointed me was the one about the Royal Society; unfortunately he is capable of writing serious nonfiction when called to do it. I, however, was unprepared for it; expecting a funny book I hurled it at the wall in disgust. It didn't deserve that kind of treatment, as it was an excellent book of its kind, but it's all about expectations, you know.
This would really fall under the fantasy genre, but it's just too funny to leave out: A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams. Some people actually think this is philosophy, so that's funny too. Another fantasy author who is belly-laugh worthy is Terry Pratchett; his books are mostly based in the Discworld, a sort of parallel universe. My favorite is Monstrous Regiment; I also loved The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, which is a young adult book. It's actually the Pied Piper with a talking cat and some genius rats. Just fabulous.
The difficulty here is that once one has read this supremely amusing book, it's never as funny the second time around. So now it's your turn -- can you recommend any funny books for me?
It hasn't gone anywhere, but if you are normal (or approximating normal) you have matured to the extent that what seemed hilarious at age 7, or 12, or 16, seems gross, or dumb, or sophomoric in your 20's or 30's. This is a bit of a disappointment, in a way; kids have it so easy when they need a laugh. Pick up a volume in the My Weird School series, and they're laughing all the way home. Whereas mature adults such as ourselves will seldom find that kind of satisfaction in a book anymore; hence, this post.
Donald Westlake has been around for years; I haven't read all of his books yet but I've read most of the Dortmunder series. These books, centering around a group of bumbling thieves, is as close to slapstick as one gets in literature. Dortmunder is just so pathetic -- but the situations he falls into are ridiculously amusing, and so are his friends. I especially like Stan.
If you want to be amused in a useful sort of way, the nonfiction of Bill Bryson is the way to go. Whether expounding on hiking the Appalachians (A Walk in the Woods), the English language (Mother Tongue), or the history of the home (At Home), he is relentlessly funny. The only one that disappointed me was the one about the Royal Society; unfortunately he is capable of writing serious nonfiction when called to do it. I, however, was unprepared for it; expecting a funny book I hurled it at the wall in disgust. It didn't deserve that kind of treatment, as it was an excellent book of its kind, but it's all about expectations, you know.
This would really fall under the fantasy genre, but it's just too funny to leave out: A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams. Some people actually think this is philosophy, so that's funny too. Another fantasy author who is belly-laugh worthy is Terry Pratchett; his books are mostly based in the Discworld, a sort of parallel universe. My favorite is Monstrous Regiment; I also loved The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, which is a young adult book. It's actually the Pied Piper with a talking cat and some genius rats. Just fabulous.
The difficulty here is that once one has read this supremely amusing book, it's never as funny the second time around. So now it's your turn -- can you recommend any funny books for me?
Sunday, March 13, 2011
From the Bestseller List
I haven't had a lot of success finding good reads from the bestseller lists; I don't think those books necessarily sell well to intelligent readers. However, I do occasionally find the rare gem in the list that I can't put down. Here are a few of them.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog spent most of last year on the New York Times Bestseller list; it's a French novel published in an English translation by Europa, a publisher which specializes in this type of book. The author, Muriel Barbery, is also a professor of philosophy, which explains a lot about the issues addressed in her story.
This book shines a spotlight on an exclusive luxury apartment building in Paris; the two narrators are its most unusual residents. Renee, the building's concierge, opens the book with her observations of the people she assumes she exists to serve. However, it quickly becomes clear to the reader that Renee is not what she seems to the world. Intermittently, the book shifts to the narration of Paloma, a young child who is also hiding something about herself, and the stage is set for the two of them to meet.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog is a wonderfully good translation (and, believe me, I've seen bad ones) and the writing just shines; however, Barbery does wax quite philosophical through Renee and Paloma, and not every reader can deal with that. Another oddity is the strange enthusiasm her characters have for grammar, which isn't odd at all if you consider that they are, after all, French. I found this book mesmerizing; I couldn't put it down, and I eventually bought it and read it many, many times.
Another good popular book is the current New York Times Bestseller Room, by Emma Donoghue. On the face of it, this seems to be just another version of the story in which young woman is abducted, kept captive for a number of years by psychopath, has child(ren) by said psychopath, eventually escapes, has to adjust to real world. If that was the case, I wouldn't be directing you to this book.
Room is unusual because of its unusual, innocent eye, point of view. The story is narrated by Jack, the child who grows up knowing nothing but Room, the corrugated shed in the backyard of the man who abducted his mother when she was in college. His only window on the world, other than the skylight (covered with wire mesh), is the television -- he believes it depicts outer space. Jack, in other words, believes Room is the real world because he knows of no other.
It's not a spoiler to tell you that they escape (I won't tell you how); the story becomes even more intense once Jack now has to face, literally, a whole new world. We see through Jack's adjustment the difficulty his mother is having, and glimpse through his eyes the way his mother's loved ones are knocked sideways by the unexpected reunion. I'll admit it -- I cried as I finished this book. And then I read it again.
Stay tuned; later in the week I'll be posting some chick lit!
The Elegance of the Hedgehog spent most of last year on the New York Times Bestseller list; it's a French novel published in an English translation by Europa, a publisher which specializes in this type of book. The author, Muriel Barbery, is also a professor of philosophy, which explains a lot about the issues addressed in her story.
This book shines a spotlight on an exclusive luxury apartment building in Paris; the two narrators are its most unusual residents. Renee, the building's concierge, opens the book with her observations of the people she assumes she exists to serve. However, it quickly becomes clear to the reader that Renee is not what she seems to the world. Intermittently, the book shifts to the narration of Paloma, a young child who is also hiding something about herself, and the stage is set for the two of them to meet.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog is a wonderfully good translation (and, believe me, I've seen bad ones) and the writing just shines; however, Barbery does wax quite philosophical through Renee and Paloma, and not every reader can deal with that. Another oddity is the strange enthusiasm her characters have for grammar, which isn't odd at all if you consider that they are, after all, French. I found this book mesmerizing; I couldn't put it down, and I eventually bought it and read it many, many times.
Another good popular book is the current New York Times Bestseller Room, by Emma Donoghue. On the face of it, this seems to be just another version of the story in which young woman is abducted, kept captive for a number of years by psychopath, has child(ren) by said psychopath, eventually escapes, has to adjust to real world. If that was the case, I wouldn't be directing you to this book.
Room is unusual because of its unusual, innocent eye, point of view. The story is narrated by Jack, the child who grows up knowing nothing but Room, the corrugated shed in the backyard of the man who abducted his mother when she was in college. His only window on the world, other than the skylight (covered with wire mesh), is the television -- he believes it depicts outer space. Jack, in other words, believes Room is the real world because he knows of no other.
It's not a spoiler to tell you that they escape (I won't tell you how); the story becomes even more intense once Jack now has to face, literally, a whole new world. We see through Jack's adjustment the difficulty his mother is having, and glimpse through his eyes the way his mother's loved ones are knocked sideways by the unexpected reunion. I'll admit it -- I cried as I finished this book. And then I read it again.
Stay tuned; later in the week I'll be posting some chick lit!
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