My first post in more than a year

I was hesitating about returning to this blog, having lost my enthusiasm for it, but now I feel I can return. What have I been reading since the last time I posted? Well, I've taken to reading collections. I have completed since last week the entirety of the Pleiade collection published by Gallimard, and plan to keep up with their new publications once a year. I read all of The Great Books list, which was popular in the sixties. I also read Yale's English Monarch series, which I began as light relief but which proved much more politically minded than I expected. I read all the Harry Potters, just to see what the fuss was about. I embarked just this past week on a list of the Western canon, not the 100 book list set by Harold Bloom, but the massive 700 book list loom produced. As a result I am reading the best novel I've read in some time, His Daughter, by Yoram Kaniuk. I find myself back in Israel, after 20 year. It is very keenly observed.

I still regularly read The Economist, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker, and The Utne Reader. I still re-read some of my favorites for relaxation.

Mags, Cambridge History, Newman

Since my last post I've read 4 issues of Eclectic Reading, two issues each of The Economist, The New Scientist, one issue each of Esquire, New York times Magazine, Chatelaine, The New Yorker, The Star, The Globe, The National Examiner, and The Examiner. I also read volumes 5,6 and 7 of the Cambridge New Modern History, and John Henry Cardinal Newman's Apologia Pro Vita Sua. I am now reading the Cambridge histories in philosophy, in particular the first, about Hellenistic philosophy. Certainly makes me realize I know nothing about Hellenistic philosophy in general, even I have read many ancient Greek philosophers.

Free-Thinkers, Best-Sellers, Fantasy

Since my last post, I've read an issue of The Economist, and an issue of The National Enquirer.

I have also read a volume of authors who wrote bestsellers in the XVIIIth century in France, and that was fascinating in itself. The most popular one was about the loves of nobles at the English court. I also read a collection of books from free-thinkers, about magic, about sexuality for women, etc. Two of them were written by the actual Cyrano de Bergerac, later immortalized in the rhyming play. Finally, I am reading the second volume of a collection of fantasy novels written by Germans in the XIXth century. That also is fascinating -- it gave rise to a whole current of literature that I knew about, having read many fantasy novels, but about whose roots I knew nothing. Who knew?

Reaux, Valery, Sade

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

I've also read the complete works of Sade -- astounding how repetitious that gets. I also read Historiettes by Tallemand de Reaux: it was like the memoirs of Saint-Simon, except it was all anecdotes that were salacious or funny. I also read Paul Valery's notebooks.

Bernanos

Since my last post, I've read Hello Canada, two issues of GQ, The National Enquirer, The New Scientist, the Utne Reader, and Eclectic Reading. I also spent the day reading the essays of George Bernanos in the are of politics. I admired the style of his writing, fulsome and elegant, but not the content, which is very dated. He felt strong about war and France, of course, I mean, he died in 1949. I couldn't get much enthusiasm up for the next volume of Pleiade yesterday, but I am more motivated now...

Casanova, Andersen

Since my last post, I've read an issue of Eclectic Reading, an issue of Life and Style, an issue of Vogue, and an issue of Cook's Illustrated.

I finished the three volumes of Casanova's memoirs. It seems to me that he fell in love collectively with women. He is discrete as to the actual sex, except for remembering the place and the length of time they had -- from 1/2 an hour to 4, in most cases -- and it's really all about the flirting that got him to sex in the first place. The memoirs are surprisingly charming, but what a frivolous life, however famous he was for it! After that, I also read a collection of Italian Renaissance short stories. They were split between the moralistic and the bawdy or funny, but there were lots of both. Once can see the influence of the Decameron. I must be on 5 000 pages of what was once considered risque or erotic, and much as I hate to say it, I'm getting bored.

I am now reading the works of Hans Christian Andersen, about 175 children's stories, of which the most famous are The Princess and The Pea, and The Little Match Girl. I am also reading his autobiography, which is revealing of his writing process.

Bataille, Casanova

Since my last post I've read an issue of Hello Canada, an issue of Vanity Fair, an issue of The Economist, three issues of I, two issues of The New Scientist, an issue of The Globe, an issue of The National Enquirer, and two issues of Eclectic Reading.

I also read the novels and stories of George Bataille, famous for writing erotic stories in France. This is still La Pleiade, and I have to tell you, to him erotic means dirty. I mean literally, the characters are forever slathered in mud, for example. In a few spots, the writing is extraordinary, but for the most part I yawned, disappointed, through it.

I have also started the memoirs of Casanova. Yes, written by him, in French, at the end of his life. The introductory essay refers to his 122 conquests. Someone counted? Anyway, they are so far quite charming. What an adventurous unusual life, however crabby he was at the end of it.

Sade, Voragine

Since my last post, I've read two issues of Eclectic Reading, an issue of The New Scientist, an issue of The Globe, The National Enquirer, and an issue of People.

I've also read the first volume of the works of Sade. Yes, as in Marquis de. It's in La Pleiade and I can only say that 120 jours de Sodom et Gommorhe are a blueprint for any pornographer. The distinguished collection actually started with a long essay explaining why he deserved inclusion in the series. Well, he started pornography like Jane Austen started Harlequin romances. I had read some of his novels, and they are tame if titillating compared to that. I've also read La legende doree by Jean de Voragine. It's a martyrology with jewels falling from the skies and assorted other miraculous occurrences. It was, as you might imagine, a contrast. The saint and the sinner.

Greek and Roman Novels of Antiquity

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

More importantly I've been delighted to continue reading in La Bibliotheque de la Pleiade, in the final push about about 50 books before I'm left with just the playwrights. This week, I finished reading the great Tao writings. I had read the Ghita, the Koran, the Bible, but not fully in Tao. It was very revealing to read. I also read a collection of Greek and Latin novels from Antiquity, also about which I knew nothing. I had read Ovid and Homer and some history, but not this. The introductory essays warned of boredom, and it was a tough read, although not for someone who has plowed through 18th century English novels. What I mostly saw was, predictably, hugely influential early texts, the root of all novels in the West. It was fascinating.

French Middle Ages literature, Bonaparte, Arabic travel writing

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

I only teach the first week of December, and I take advantage of it every year to read much more. This year, I'm giving a big push in the French collection Bibliotheque de la Pleiade. I hope to have only a few volumes left to read at the close of the year.

Well, so far I've been reading the most extraordinary things. The first was the volume of Arabic travel writing, Voyageurs arabes. It was really something to read the accounts, written over 1000 years ago, of travel throughout the Middle East, China and India, even central Asia. One writer describes the Russians as the dirtiest people in the world -- not washing before eating or after sex, and compares them to wandering donkeys. I can only imagine what my European forbears must have seemed like to aristocrats from other, more advanced, cultures.

The next was Jeux et Sapience du Moyen Age. These were the earliest know plays in French, or what I would call middle French, it's so old. There was a book on hunting, and a travelogue through Jerusalem, and excerpts from a treasury, that is to say, an encyclopedia of the era. The plays are charming and simple, and what I took away the most was the fact that I no longer have anyone with whom to speak the old French, now that my uncle has died. Oh, I speak French a bit in my professional life, but not with the heavy accent and contractions and archaic grammar of my mother's generation.

Finally, I'm reading right now the Memorial de Sainte Helene, written by Napoleon Bonaparte's chamberlain. It is incredible to be reading first hand accounts of the great man as he endures imprisonment and reflects on his life.

Cambridge Medieval History, mags

Since my last post, I've read two issues of The New Scientist, two issues of Eclectic Reading, an issue of Hello Canada. I also read the last two volumes of the Cambridge Medieval History, and I now await the first two volumes.

Cambridge Medieval History, mags

Since my last post I've read two issues of Eclectic Reading and The New Yorker, and one issue each of The New Scientist, Hello Canada, Vanity Fair, and The Economist.

I also read Volumes 3 and 4 of the New Cambridge Medieval History, which represents about2300 pages. It was really interesting, although I got lost in some of the details about ruling families. I was interested in the intimate connection between church and government, and the fact that the church provided all the educated people to conduct the business of government -- most of the people who could read and write were clergy, and this lasted, at least in Scotland, until late in the Renaissance. Wow.

I also ordered up my reading for the month of December, most of which I have teaching-free. I realized how much of the collection La pleiade I had read -- after this lot, there will be only 28 titles left. I have impressed myself.

Marquez, Latin America

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

I also read Modern Culture of Latin America by Jean Franco. Her understanding of all the different national literature,including poetry, novels, short stories and plays is remarkable. I also read Latin American Culture and Modernity, which was disappointing in terms of the content, which focused on the treatment of Latin America in the social sciences. I also read a thematic history of Latin America, which provided me with more of the information I sought. I am at present reading Marquez' Love in the Time of Cholera. It is extremely vivid, and well-characterized, and the story is intriguing, but his work is here, as it is in his other novels, misogynist.

Cambridge Modern History, Johnston, Theriault, Hastings, Bellenger

Since my last post I've read two issues of The Economist, an issue of The New Yorker, two issues of The New Scientist, an issue of National Geographic in French, an issue of British Vogue, an issue of Chatelaine. I've also read two volumes of the New Cambridge Modern History, Where Good Ideas Come From by Steven Johnston, Cul-de-Sac by Yves Theriault, Aloha by Noelle Hastings, Methodes de lecture in the Que sais-je collection by Lionel Bellenger, and I've just started a French pastoral whose title I forget!

Cambridge History of Latin America

I read the final volumes of this history, which brings me to 12. I also started the Cambridge History of Islam, which was also interesting. I learn new things, of course, but also it brings a perspective to my reading for years in history, and puts everything in the proper place.

I also read two Economists, two New Yorkers, three Eclectic Readings, two New Scientists, one Vanity Fair, one Rolling Stone, one Examiner, and one Hello Canada from last summer I found at the bottom of my trunk.

Rieff, de Waal, Cambridge History of Latin America

I've read volumes 3 and 4 of the Cambridge History of Latin America. I am finding the answers to the questions I had, about why the countries had failed to develop their economies and political systems. There are a number of reasons, but two are the fact that the Spanish/Portuguese metropolis never developed passed a feudal political or economic system, so that at independence the many Latin American countries could hardly have moved beyond that point. Second, the Spanish and Portuguese states had no legitimate governments when independence was achieved by the colonies, so that it was the equivalent of the Belgians abandoning the Congo all of a sudden, leaving them with state apparatus that was completely inadequate to the tasks.

I also read David Rieff's cri du coeur, A Bed for the Night. This, and Alex De Waal's Famine Crimes, round out a half dozen books I've read about international aid. I have to say that these recent spate of books about international aid don't hold a candle to Waal's prescient, excellent, illuminating work. I have concluded that as international aid got to be Big Business, so to speak, a way of life, it became what the welfare state actually is in Canada -- a machine that benefits those that are employed by it, rather than the people intended to be helped. And so international aid organizations fall prey to politics, and claim more than they accomplish, and cater to the media, and make only the most marginal of differences. I believe all of it, I find it follows the pattern of most organizations originally created to help.

Terry, Dikotter, Cambridge History of Latin America

Since my last post, I've read an issue of Hello Canada, the Globe, Vanity Fair, GQ Style Guide, Urban Farmer, Utne Reader, and two issues each of the New Scientist, Eclectic Reading, and The Economist. I've read Dikotter's Mao's Great Famine, about the China famine, and Terry's Condemned to Repeat, about the problems in international aid. I have also read the first volume of the Cambridge History of Latin America, all 800 pages of it! Took a long time.

Garner, Carlyle, McFarquhar

Since my last post I've read one issue of The New Yorker, one issue of The Globe, one issue of Hello Canada, one issue of The Economist, two issues of Eclectic Reading, and two issues of The New Scientist.

I also read the two latter volumes of McFarqhuar's Origins of the Cultural Revolution, in which I discovered not just the terrible, sad, wrong-headed decisions of the Communist leadership leading to the terrible famine death toll in China in the late 1950s and early 1960s. I also read a biography of Hugh Garner, another alcoholic writer, and a biography of Carlyle. I also finished Trevor Roper's Last Days of Hitler. The moment I found the most memorable in that book, apart from upper-class condemnation of Hitler's bourgeois habits -- a strange accusation given everything else there is to criticize about him -- was the fact that after Hitler's body was removed from the bunker, everyone immediately lit up. The smoking ban enforced in his lifetime was now, at last, at an end. Extraordinary picture it dredges up.

Becker, Sackville

I've read 4 issues of Eclectic Reading, two issues of The New Scientist, one issue of Psychology Today, one issue of Cook's Illustrated, two issues of Men's Journal, two issues of The Economist, an issue of Vanity Fair, and an issue of The Globe. I also read three books: Knole and The Sackvilles, by Ricahrd Sackville, which was mildly entertaining, and then two literary biographies, which couldn't have made much of an impression because I can't remember who they were. Bully for me and my credibility as a reader. I'm now reading Hungry Ghosts, by Jasper Becker, about the 1960 famine in China, and it is if anything more devastating than reading about the Irish potato famine. Gosh.

Mirbeau, Moodie, Durrell

Since my last post, I've read three issues of Eclectic Reading, two issues of OK Magazine, two issues of The New Scientist, one issue of The Economist, and one issue of Hello Canada.

I also read an interminable biography of Octave Mirbeau, nearly 1000 pages, which I finished this week. There certainly was a lot of detail for a man know for a play, Les affaires sont les affaires, and a novel, Journal d'une femme de chambre. I also read a biography of Suzanne Moodie, an early Canadian writer. Her colonial experiences were so bad, I wonder she wrote at all, but she published quite a bit over time. And I also read a memoir by Laurence Durrell, which I found frankly insipid.