The Penguin Book Of Ghost Stories edited by J. A. Cuddon

Wow, I remembered so very little this re-read from the last (which was, granted, nigh on two decades ago.) The two stories that did stir memories, though faint, are likely the ones I will continue to remember, Ann Bridge’s “The Buick Saloon” and Marghanita Laski’s “The Tower”, both for the unflinching cruelty done to the heroines. I’ve come to believe that ghost stories at their best are allegories for the terrible meanness of fate, though even so I do rather like tales such as Joan Aiken’s “Sonata For Harp And Bicycle,” which showcase a delightful British pragmatism even as it allows for the worst. I also thought it interesting that stories I know would have thrilled me when younger (such as Edith Wharton’s “Afterward”) now just seem a bit much. Fun post-Halloween reading, though between this and the Nabokov I think I’ve ODed a bit on short stories.

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History of the Second World War by B.H. Liddell Hart

J.F.C. Fuller and B.H. Liddell Hart are considered the two prime British military historians of the old school, and both have written well regarded books on World War II. But I found Fuller’s book rather dull, while this one was quite enjoyable. It is primarily a strategic analysis of the war that leaves out the human dimension and the story of the ordinary soldier and sailor, but it is nonetheless interesting and readable. Hart agrees with Fuller that the use of aerial bombing against Germany was ineffectual and wasteful, but he departs from conventional wisdom in arguing that it effectively brought Japan to its knees, to the the point where the dropping of the atomic bombs was completely unnecessary. He is critical of Churchill and Montgomery, which as an Englishman he has every right to be. This is a rather long work, but its subject is worthy of such a lengthy treatment. We can only hope that there will be no need for books of comparable length on future wars.

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Without a Summer by Mary Robinette Kowal

Without a Summer by Mary Robinette Kowal is the third of her Glamourist Histories series, following Shades of Milk & Honey, and Glamour in Glass. The series crosses Regency romances with alternate (but not terribly alternate) history and a dash of domestic magic that may yet admit of industrial applications.

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Rome and the Mediterranean by Livy

The last fifteen books of Livy’s surviving history, covering Rome’s conquest of the Hellenistic world after the Punic Wars. Aside from a few interesting anecdotes and episodes, most of this history was tedious and unmemorable. The saga might have been livened up if Hannibal had come out of retirement, but with his defeat in the Second Punic War Rome was without any serious rivals, and most of the next hundred years was a mopping up of the Mediterranean world in a steady but inglorious series of campaigns in which Rome was invariably victorious. Most of this history could have been more briefly summarized or even omitted altogether without any serious loss to posterity. Yet it seems to illustrate that Rome was a state that could only thrive when it was at war, seemingly contradicting Clausewitz’s thesis that wars become ruinous when they are fought for their own sake. It was peace, not war, that ultimately corrupted Rome and led to her downfall.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2014/11/06/rome-and-the-mediterranean-by-livy/

The Cider House Rules by John Irving, revisited

I reviewed this earlier, but I gave it a somewhat negative review, and after I had time to think about this book some more I changed my mind about it. This is actually a beautifully written novel. I was a bit turned off by how slow it was at first, but contrary to expectations the story was actually leading somewhere, and leading somewhere in a big way. This is a story that reminds one of what Kierkegaard said about life, that it can only be lived forward but can only be understood looking back. Looking back on this story, I think I understand it better now. If you are pro-life, as I am, the story’s central theme may bother you, but if you can get past that then I think you will be impressed by Irving’s narrative craftsmanship. A lot of the seeming pointlessness of the story arc is resolved in the final chapter, and the conclusion is quite powerful. I hope my earlier review doesn’t turn anyone off from reading it. It’s worth the time.

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The Last Wish by Andrezej Sapkowski

One of my commonest complaints about fantasy novels is that the setting is warmed-over England. There is so much fantasy that uses vaguely-English feudalism as its model, that it’s possible for someone to grow up reading almost nothing but, and then to embark on a career of writing in the same genre without necessarily realizing that things can be different.

Enter the witcher, or at least Andrzej Sapkowski. As the copy on the back of the book tells us, “Geralt of Rivia is a witcher. A cunning sorcerer. A merciless assassin. … His sole purpose: to destroy the monsters that plague the world. But not everything monstrous-looking is evil, and not everything fair is good … and in every fairy tale there is a grain of truth.”

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Of Dice and Men by David M. Ewalt

Ewalt gives his slender volume the subtitle “The Story of Dungeons & Dragons and the People Who Play It,” at which point my inner copyeditor immediately reaches for the red pencil to change it to “A Story…” and “Some of the People…” There are a lot of stories of Dungeons & Dragons, and Ewalt surely isn’t telling the only one possible. Further, as the second noun in his title indicates, the story he tells is very much dominated by boys and men. The milieu in which D&D arose was almost exclusively male, but by the time it got big plenty of girls and women were playing. Ewalt’s experience of D&D may have been all-male, but mine certainly wasn’t, and it was a bit off-putting to see his blitheness on display.
Of Dice and Men cover
But as Ewalt says in his introduction, “Read this like you’d play in a friendly campaign. Don’t be a rules lawyer, and don’t argue with the DM.”

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Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2014/11/05/of-dice-and-men-by-david-m-ewalt/

The Days of the French Revolution by Christopher Hibbert

Of the half dozen or so books on the French Revolution I have read so far, this is probably the best one. Yet the Revolution continues to confuse and bewilder me. How could something that began so well turn out so badly? It began as a genuinely democratic movement, but soon degenerated into something far more sinister, and it ended in the reign of Napoleon, a far more absolute monarch than any of the French kings had ever been. And all of this mayhem took place in what was then perhaps the most civilized nation in continental Europe. It should serve as a warning that democracy is not necessarily the salvation of a nation and that the rule of the people can only be as good and as just as the people are themselves. It was entirely appropriate to read this book on the eve of an election (November 4, 2014).

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2014/11/02/the-days-of-the-french-revolution-by-christopher-hibbert/

Endgame: The Calling by James Frey and Nils Johnson-Shelton

For a puzzle book, this is actually well-written. I sure as heck wasn’t expecting the death toll at the end (or even near the beginning: if I were a member of that particular bloodline, I’d be pissed,) but the authors certainly seem to be of the “kill your darlings” school of writing, which leads to some really entertaining stuff. I’m excited to see what they’ll do in the next two books, if the plot twists in this one are any indicator.

That said, I doubt I’ll attempt the puzzles in here very seriously, or at least not unless they have a greater bearing on the Ancient Societies website which was the main reason I bought this book in the first place. AncSoc is a ton of fun, with collaborative puzzle-solving. Come join me as a Nabataean there!

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The Stories Of Vladimir Nabokov by Vladimir Nabokov

Dear short story collection,

It’s not you, it’s me. I only knew Vladimir Nabokov from his exquisite Lolita, a tale which, if not quintessentially American, conjures a sort of louche Riviera frame of mind, and I think that’s what I expected from you, too. I hadn’t expected quite so much Russianness, though that wasn’t so bad, even in such a large dose. It was the Baltic chill that really slowed my progress, a freezing of the blood and brain that caused me to struggle through the last hundred-odd pages, admiring the craft displayed in the words even as I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for their meaning. And there were some really good, really lovely stories in here, that I commented on as I passed them. It was just too much for me, in the end, and when I finally finished you it was more with a sense of relief than anything else.

Let us part friends, agreeing never to meet again, but with a mutual respect for our strengths, even if they are not quite compatible.

Yours humbly,
Doreen.

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