Vacation Reading

Since my last post, I've read an issue of The New Yorker, an issue of The New Scientist, an issue of The Economist, and three issues of Eclectic Reading. Since I'm nominally on vacation, I've read only for pleasure some historical biographies, one of Philip II and one of Alexander I which turned out to contain a conspiracy theory -- he's actually lived out his life as an ascetic beyond the Urals, instead of dying in his bed before the assembled court...I laughed out loud.

Theatre, Courier

Since my last post, I've read an issue of Eclectic Reading.

I also read pro baby the most helpful book on the theatre so far, Cameron's Acting Skills for Life. It covered the basics of acting, like voice and use of the body, and psychology, etc. I also confess to abandoning Arden Fingerhut's Theatre, since it covered material I had read previously. Then it was on to the political pamphlets of J.P. Courier. I read a history of Dramaturgy, by Luckhurst. I'm glad to have exposed myself to what are by all accounts the masterpieces of political writing in pamphlet form, but I confess to having found J'Accuse much more effective.

Mags, Theatre

Since my last post, I've read an issue of The Economist, an issue of Hello!Canada, an issue of Eclectic Reading, and an issue of OK Magazine. I've also watched a lot of movies, almost all of which were outstanding or unusual in some way: Vatel, Amazing Grace, There Will Be Blood, Requiem for a Dream, Leolo, The Reader, Million Dollar Baby, The Baroness and the Pig, and The Passion of the Christ.

I also read a number of books on the theatre: Anatoly Efros' Profession: Director, Wills' Directing in the Theatre, Berger's Playwright Versus Director and The Theatre Team, Taylor's Directing Plays, Delgado's In Contact with the Gods, Braun's Theatre Directing, Unwin's So You Want to be a Theatre Director?, Maccoy's extraordinary Essentials of Stage Management, Migliarisi's Directing and Authorship in Western Drama, Gloman's Scenic Design and Lighting Techniques, and Luckhurst's Dramaturgy. I have learned a great deal on the technical side, to be sure, and I now have the answer to many of my questions. I found some of the books irritating because they just reported conversations verbatim at festivals and such.

Goncourt, Lecturing, Theatre

Since my last post, I've read an issue of Eclectic Reading, an issue of The New Yorker and an issue of The New Scientist.

I've read some Goncourt: La Faustin, and the most extraordinary La maison d'un artiste, a two-volume description of objets d'art and books, room by room, in the Goncourt house. It was totally unexpected, and unusual to read such a book. Then I read several books on education, an excellent one called The Lecturer's Toolkit, by Phil Race, probably the second most useful book on teaching I've read, after Reflective Teacher about twelve years ago. Then there was The Art of Lecturing, from a much decorated young prof of electrical engineering at University of Toronto. I read it quite carefully, and I realized more clearly than ever that conformity is rewarded in academic life -- this professor clearly does extremely well exactly what is expected of him, and honors are heaped on him as a result. Well, it certainly explains my situation... I also read Stephen Brookfield's Power of Critical Theory, which was well-done but not what I was looking for at this point in my career development.

Then it was on to stacks of reading about theatre. I read two books containing essays about important directors: Bradby's Directors' Theatre, and Mitter's Fifty Theatre Directors. There were also several essays on directing, like DeKoven's Changing Direction and Bogart's Director Prepares. The latter book contained possibly the first treatment of an essential truth I've ever read, about human nature needing to fight, to combat, to be challenged, and, in this case, how to harness that in the process of theatre. There were books on the practicalities of theatre companies, like Wallis' In Good Company. There were books on the technical aspects, which were a revelation: White's Technical Theatre, Bond's Stage Management. There were books on teaching theatre or acting: Izzo's Acting Interactive Theatre, McCullough's Theatre Praxis. And there were books about playwrights and how to act them, like McTeague's.

Goncourts, Books About Theatre and Teaching

Since my last post, I read an issue of Eclectic Reading. I also read the Goncourt novel, La fille Elisa. It is a realistic prison novel, and I thought it had a much lighter touch, for all its didacticism, than Emile Zola. I liked it. It was short. I also read Cherie, which I thought was far more gossipy than that greatest of French gossips, Proust. I also read two texts on Japanese art, which consisted mainly of descriptions of woodcuttings, without illustration -- Hokousaii and Outamaro. I had trouble with the odd transliteration of the Japanese.

I also read tons of books about the theatre. Teach Yourself Amateur Theatre by Nicholas Gibbs, Elder's Will It Make A Theatre?; Salzer's Skeptical Scenographer; Holdar's study of Bergman, called Scenography in Action; Antony Sher's Primo Time, his diary during a production of a play about Primo Levi; De la Cruz's Directing for Theatre; McCabe's Mis-Directing a Play; Knopf's Director as Collaborator; Stagecrafter's Handbook; the government of Quebec's Production scenique;, and Coulisses de theatre. I was more interested in Gorilla Theatre, which is about a theatre company that played the classics out of doors where people happened to congregate, by Sanderson, and Katie Mitchell's Director's Craft.

I also read Bligh's What's the Use of Lectures, Boyne's Listening and Notetaking Skills; and Cannon's Lecturing.

Ramuz, Merimee

Since my last post, I've read an issue of OK Magazine and an issue of Eclectic Reading. I've also ploughed through about 25 of Ramuz's novels, all the ones that were published, trying to figure out why this author was picture on Switzerland's currency, the 200 franc note. Well, I finally got it, Derborence, a novel with a wonderful, evocative sense of space, about a rockfall in the Alps. Wonderful. The rest are ordinary and didn't hold my attention. It was a slog, all these quiet bourgeois people. Then I read all of Merimee's novels and short stories, and while these were less boring than Ramuz, nothing stands out that much.

Morand, Riviere

Since my last post, I read Sur le devoir de l'imprevoyance, by Isabelle Riviere. Here are my comments, in French: "J’abonde dans son sens et j’ai lu ses réflexions avec beaucoup d’intérêt, en particulier les deuxièmes et troisièmes parties. J’ai une seule réticence, sur un seul point de la première partie, et c’est sur la question de tout donner pour faire plus amplement confiance à Dieu. Je suis d’accord qu’il nous faut nous abandonner à la Providence en général, mais je ne suis pas sûre que le devoir de pourvoir à nos propres besoins, sans plus, et de prévoir un peu l’avenir – la retraite, les coûts de santé qui peuvent s’imposer, etc. Évidemment, il est a peu près impossible de ne pas s’attacher à l’argent. Je l’ai bien vu pour moi-même avec la crise économique, et mes REER qui ont fondus; et puis, je l’admets, lorsque je fais mon rapport d’impôt. Je me suis demandée si cela était matériellement possible pour autres que les religieux…et quand j’étais religieuse, je savais fort bien que je n’avais pas à craindre pour l’avenir….

I also read several books by Paul Morand: Rien que la terre, L'Europe Russe, Londres, and 1900, all non-fiction. This reminded me of how much reading was entertainment in the days before television or even widespread radio. I also read Dernier Jour de l'Inquisition, an excellent short story about a monk undergoing the Inquisition, and waiting in jail, followed by the novella Parfaite de Saligny, a conventional love story.

I also read Zweig's early novel, Beware of Pity. This is about the trouble an Austro-Hungarian officer gets into by pitying a rich but handicapped young woman, with white lies and then snowballing. I thought it was excellent also.

Morand, Zweig, Goncourt

Since my last post, I've read two issues of Eclectic Reading and an issue of The New Yorker.

I've also Zweig's Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Woman, which was excellent, volume 2 of the Goncourt journals (20 volume edition). Finally, I've read La route des Indes, by Paul Morand, which was an excellent piece of travel-writing.

Mostly Morand, Alford, Bartlett, Kleist

Since my last post, I read an issue of The New Scientist, one of Eclectic Reading, and started an issue of The Economist.

I was anticipating reading How to Live by Henry Alford, a book recounting the wisdom of the elderly. Turns out to be fewer interviews than I thought, and more personal reminiscence and experience, and the book is very lightweight considering the topic. I read another book by Bartlett called They Dared to Live, a book from the thirties containing some short pieces on inspirational lives -- I knew about most of them, including Einstein, and Shaftesbury, but not all. Finally, I read Kleist's short story Michael Kohlhaas, the last of the Kleist writings. Then I read wall-to-wall Paul Morand.

I read a collection of short stories called Le Prisonnier de Cintra, and in it was a perfectly charming one about a cat called Un chat nomme Gaston. I also read some travel writing: Le voyage, Bucarest, with some great tidbits about Romania,and Les bains de mer, which confirmed my impression that here is a writer who is socially an aristocrat.

There was an essay which doesn't fit anywhere, called De la vitesse.

I also read biographies and reminisences on the eponymous Giraudoux, Fouquet, Maupassant and more about Marcel Proust,in a couple of essays and correspondence entitled Le visiteur du soir.

Zweig, Merimee, Goncourt

Since my last post, I've read one issue of OK Magazine.

I've read the journals of Stefan Zweig, short stories by Prosper Merimee, Manette Salomon, a novel by the Goncourts, Renee Mauperin, another novel, and the first volume of the Goncourt diaries. Look out, there are 19 more volumes of those. Merimee had some interesting short stories, but they were not all good. The novels by the Goncourt were forgettable, I hate to say. I imagine the journals will get better as time goes on, but I already find them critical enough of some figures of the Parisian literati of the 1850s...As for Merime, I'm hoping his novels are better. I've ordered his novels from interlibrary loan.

Zweig, Downey, Brookfield, Collins et al.

Since my last post, I've read two issues of The Economist, two issues of Eclectic Reading, the latest encyclical Caritas in Veritate, which contained some explosive statements about unions that no one has picked up on as yet, and an issue of The New Scientist.

And, of course, I've been reading Zweig,The Tide of Fortune; Conflicts; biographies of Romain Rolland and Emile Verhaeven; Jeremiah (a play)which sold 20 000 copies(!); Les heures etoiles de l'humanite; Passion and Pain, more short stories; The world of Yesterday, his memoirs; in the collection Romans, theatre, et nouvelles, Clarissa and a play based on Kleist's Penthesilea; the essay Mysteres de la creation artistique; and his book on Brazil. I have his journals and perhaps one or two books left to read, and I am therefore almost at the close of his works, and I have concluded, shockingly enough, that he was a lightweight. The stuff is not profound, and he managed not to be a profound man, it would appear.

I also read a book by Stephen Brookfield, Discussion as a Way of Teaching. There was much here that is helpful, and of course his previous book on reflective teaching changed my professional life; a biography of Frances Perkins, Roosevelt's Secretary of Labor, which was also superficial, by Kirstin Downey; and a fascinating book on the Portfolios of the Poor, by Collins and Murdoch, about how very poor people in developing countries manage their finances. There is a lot of very smart thinking going on in these ultimate underdogs.

Zweig

Well, didn't I get 34 books on interlibrary loan yesterday, so I've being mowing down the quick easy reads as fast as I can, by fear of being overwhelmed.

I read a number of short stories: Laponella, Le bouquiniste Mendel, The Runaway, Virata, The Governess, The Buried Candelabra, Buchmendel, Moonbeam Alley, Rachel Arraigns God, Impromptu Study of a Handicraft, Amok, La femme et le paysage, The Star Above the Forest, The invisible Collection,Twilight, Fantastic Night, The Fowler Snared, The Chess Story, and Letter From an Unknown Woman. Twilight is eerie, it is the story of woman who carefully plans her own suicide, written by a man who also planned his own, and carried it out.

I also read Amerigo, Paul Verlaine, Marcelline Desbordes-Valmore, biographies; and the essay Right to Heresy, about Calvin and one of his opponents.I had never hear of Desbordes-Valmore, so I was happy to find out about her. I knew only some of Verlaine's life, and was also happy to read his Art poetique.

Zweig, Zweig and more Zweig

Since my last post i have read a number of books by Zweig. There were two novels, Confusion and the Post Office Girl. I liked Confusion, it's a little known academic noel, but the other was heavy handed. I then read Zweig's biography of Balzac, which I liked but didn't find particularly informative as I had read another before. Then I read a slew of essays on Casanova, Tolstoy, Dickens, Holderlin, Nietzsche, Kleist, Balzac, Montaigne, Dostoevsky, and Stendhal. There were all interesting and structured in the same way: a physical description taking up a whole chapter, 2 or 3 chapters of biography with a psychological slant, and then 2-3 chapters discussing their work and their work methods.

Goncourts, Merimee, Soyinka

Since my last post, I've read the last of the Morand novels. His range impresses me, but I think I'd like to read his book-length essays. I also read Octave Mirbeau's Journal d'une femme de chambre, which was incredibly daring for its day. It recounts the sex life (without explicit details of any kind, it all happens off-stage) of a chamber maid pursued by men of her own and other classes. Then I read two biographies of the Goncourt brothers, one by Billy in French and one in English by Robert Baldick. Both were so enthralling I ran off and got all their novels and five of the twenty volumes of their journals. I must say, however, that I couldn't tell it was the same people the two authors were talking about. I also read a four volume biography of Prosper Merimee, in preparation for reading his novels and short stories, by Trahard. Four volumes -- that's a lot. I read Soeur Philomene by the Goncourts. Finally, I read Death and the King's Horseman by Wole Soyinka

Kleist, Soyinka, Novalis, Zweig

Since my last post, I've read an issue of The Globe and an issue of The New Scientist.

I read Soyinka's childhood memoir, Ake/The Years o Childhood. I liked it, but I am starting to see a pattern in the memoirs of early life by writers from developing countries -- the sincere joys and simple pleasures, etc. Ake avoids all the cliches, but there is something of a trope here.

I read Kleist's short stories Betrothal on Santo Domingo, Michael Kohlhaas, Beggarwoman of Locarno, Saint Cecilia and The Duel, as well as his three essays on speaking, reflection and puppet theatre. Then I read Novalis' notes on Fichte and various philosophical topics. I found this very hard to read, as it is not systematic. I don't usually read any unpublished material, as I want to capture an author's finished thoughts, so this was hard, although easier than, say, course notes from Heidegger. Finally I read essays on Casanova, Tolstoy, Stendhal, Mary Baker Eddy, Messmer and Freud by Stefan Zweig. I enjoyed the essays on the writers the most, since he was looking at how they made poetry out of their lives.

McCourt, Updike, Theroux

I read Theroux's Mosquito Coast, which I liked in general, but whose ending was gruesome -- made me wonder what he had against fathers. Updike's satirical Witches of Eastwick worn thin awfully quickly. McCourt's novel Time Remaining had some stream-of-consciousness stuff which also wore thin. I also started the complete novels of the Vichy supporter Paul Morand. I liked it in general, although I agree with the critics that there are points where descriptions are overdone.

Solinka, Petrarch, Montale

I read several poems of Montale, published in English under the title Bones of Cuttlefish ("Ossi de Seppia"). I liked it in an aesthetic, non-rational way, that is to say, I read it trying to not engage my brain. I also read two plays by Wole Soyinka, neither of which I like that much: The Lion and the Jewel, and A Dance in the Forest. Finally, I read two books on Petrarch, a biography and the account of an exhibition commemorating the 700th anniversary of his birth. I believe I had forgotten to mention I had read the Canzoniere in Italian while sitting in a beauty parlor...never waste a minute I guess....

Kleist, Gadda

So I read Ordeal by Fire, an ordinary witch hunt type of play, as well as the unfunny Broken Pitcher, by Kleist. I am now wondering what is left for me to read by Kleist, in English.

I also finished That Awful Mess on the Via Merulana, which I didn't particularly like, but also Gadda's various war journals, which I did. I don't usually like to read journals, but this was really interesting.

Marquez, Kleist, Zweig, Puig

Since my last post, I read a couple of stragglers, i.e. books written by authors whom I thought I had completed. One was Buenos Aires Affair, by Puig, an excellent satirical novel and my favorite of his works; another was Marquez's non-fiction Story of a Shipwrecked Sailor, also quite good. Read the introduction, if you want to laugh out loud. Apparently Marquez didn't see the point of publishing this, except that he was now fashionable and didn't want to go back on his word.

After that I read two Stefan Zweig's Mary Queen of Scotland and the Isles, and Conquest of the Seas, the story of Magellan. My favorite biography of Mary is by Antonio Fraser, and she refers in her introduction to Zweig's 'psychological interpretation', but I didn't find it as gripping as I had hoped. With his biography of Magellan, except for a few terrible stories like the one of the deaths at the Island of Cebu, it wasn't particularly interesting.

After that I read works by Carlos Gaddo, an Italian radio personality and writer, and Kleist, a writer in the German canon about whom I had heard absolutely nothing. Gaddo wrote L'art d'ecrire pour la radio, with an introduction ten times longer than the text he wrote himself! I'm also reading his masterpiece, That Awful Mess on the Via Merulana. I also read a play of his, Conversation a trois voix, which I liked.

After that I read three of Kleist's novelle, The Marquise of O, Earthquake in Chile, and Foundling, all of which I liked for their lack of preciousness, or artifice. They should not be read for people looking for an optimistic view of human nature. I also read some plays. I had read Prince of Homburg. Now it was Penthesilea, and Amphitryon, which I liked. I have yet to read Broken Pitcher and Ordeal by Fire.

Not bad for someone who was worried about reading enough yesterday. All these works were pretty short and pretty easy to read.