Small Island by Andrea Levy

After my meager reading of April, I have been positively indulging in book gluttony in May.

I found Small Island at the library, and I must admit that the fact of its being an Orange Prize winner drew my notice. From the back of the book: "Small Island explores a point in England's past when the country began to change. In this delicately wrought and profoundly moving novel, Andrea Levy handles the weighty themes of empire, prejudice, war and love, with a superb lightness of touch and generosity of spirit."

After reading the story, I could not agree more. I don't know if racial tension in the UK was ever quite as brutal or vicious as in the US, but it was bad enough if you happened to be on the receiving end of it. There are four main characters--a Jamaican man and woman, and a British man and woman, and the story is told in first person, alternately between the characters. That results in each character becoming a sympathetic character for the reader. We cannot despise Bernard as thoroughly as Queenie does, or even see his prejudice in the same light that Gilbert does, because we have walked in his shoes,and felt the impression of his war experiences (mostly in India). We sympathize with four people in an impossible situation. So many books that touch on this subject would play up the the ugliness and stress without a drop of relief, but Andrea Levy does more--much more. She shows the hope, the human spirit, that refuses to be crushed, and rather than allow disillusionment to plunge her characters into despair, it stiffens their spines to meet the world face-to-face.

One of the most touching and telling scenes in the book comes near the end, when Hortense, the dignified young Jamaican who studied to be a teacher, and taught in a Jamaican school, applies to teach in England. Her bubble of dreams is burst, suddenly and completely, and her husband (whom she married only for convenience' sake, to get to the "Mother Country") with far more experience of England, is there to tease, console, cajole, and guide her to keep her chin up and make another way.

Reading Log, April 2008

In spite of my neglectful blogging habits, I am determined to do this one thing, and keep up a record of the books I'm reading. Before blogging, I never did keep lists, and the patterns and statistics that emerge are too irresistible to lose, so...

In April, I had live-in company (family) for three weeks, so I didn't have as much time to read as usual, and when I did read, it was usually something I could set aside or leave for a week without much regret.


Cider With Rosie by Laurie Lee -- I rather think this book may never have been published in the US, only in Britain. It's a childhood memoir of life in a Cotswold village post-WWI. It was an EXCELLENT book of its kind--very colorful, descriptive, and lively. I really enjoyed it.

False Scent by Ngaio Marsh -- This was a mystery. By the end of the first page, I knew who would be murdered. By the end of the first chapter, I knew the method. By the end of the third chapter, I guessed at the murderer, and in the end, I was right on all counts. So, it was kind of predictable, and just okay--not great. I've liked the other books by Marsh better than this one, and how did I manage to pick up another one with a "theater" theme?

Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar...: Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes by Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein -- This is pretty much what the title says it is, except I think "understanding" is probably a bit too ambitious for this book. It would probably be better enjoyed by someone who is already familiar with philosophy, although you could just read it for the jokes (which are by no means all clean). I'll probably blog about this one within the next week, but I won't be recommending it. Even if some of the jokes are kind of funny.

"If you are getting on a commercial airliner, for safety's sake, take a bomb with you...because the overwhelming odds are there won't be two guys with bombs on the same plan."

Sprig Muslin by Georgette Heyer -- I find I have absolutely nothing to say about this book. I don't think Georgette Heyer is the author for me.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James (audiobook, via Librivox) -- This is an atmospheric, "ghost" story, told by a governess caring for two children in a remote location. I enjoyed hearing the story, but the reader wasn't the best, and sometimes I had a difficult time grasping the intent of the author through her odd reading. I read a few chapters in a hard copy after I finished listening, to get a better "feel" for the author's own "voice."

And that was my reading for April! I've already finished three more books in May, with three more currently in progress, so May's reading list will likely be much longer!

New toy

I usually use a Mac computer, albeit an old one. I'm in the process of trying to learn how to use my new internet/email device--an Asus Eeepc. It's a tiny little computer, about the size of a DVD case. Should I admit that one of the selling points for me was the fun of having a computer that would fit in my purse?

This is my first blog post from the new computer, which runs a Linux operating system. I have a long way to go. The learning curve is pretty steep, and I hope I don't crash when I hit the bottom!

Reading Log, March 2008

[Darth Clarissa strikes again. If you viewed this post on April 4th (dated March 18), and it looked a little...odd...that would be because my almost-4yo discovered the open post I was working on, added a few touches of her own, and *published* it. Sheesh.]


I didn't read very many books in March (compared to the number I read in January and February, not compared to anyone else), but I find it amusing that even among the few titles completed, my eclectic reading habits shout loudly.

I might once have thought I was unusual because my short list ranges from a Victorian novel to a pop best-seller to an obscure foreign author, and from a philosophical novella to genre fiction.

Yep, that's me. But the internet has introduced me to dozens more like myself--readers with wide interests who are as likely to pick up Dickens as Mary Higgins Clark, and so I offer no explanations for my various titles. I know you understand.

Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon--audiobook, and probably my favorite for the whole month.

The Cat Who Played Post Office by Lilian Jackson Braun--a reread in an old favorite series--comfort reading of the first order--and a follow-up to the one I read in February.

The Fortieth Door by Mary Hastings Bradley--audiobook. This was just a sort of fun mystery/thriller kind of book. It's interest lay largely in the fact that it was set in Egypt, and explored the clash of cultures between east and west.

The Innocent Man by John Grisham--I really enjoy John Grisham as a storyteller, and I have read all his published books (excepting the newest one, but I'll find it sooner or later). Naturally, I had to read this book too, although I can't say the topic engaged by interest. It didn't "feel" like John Grisham in the telling, either. The story itself is a sad and sordid one, and in spite of the ultimate exoneration of the innocent man, it has no happy ending. I prefer Grisham's fiction to this.

Arrow of God by Chinua Achebe--If ever a book deserved a post and a review, this one does...but I must put it off indefinitely for now. The author seems best known for another book--Things Fall Apart--but I felt lucky to find this one at the library, and took advantage of the chance to read another book on colonial Africa.

Anthem by Ayn Rand--a novella which seems downright scary, as it is easy, easy, easy for me to imagine a society such as ours degenerating into the distopian one in the story. When what "we" need or can do takes precedence above all--political correctness indeed...

I have a couple of other books-in-progress right now, but I just need to clean up the post and get it published cleanly!

A year of experiments

Last I year, I crocheted several doilies using sewing thread instead of crochet thread. Among various considerations, I remarked that it was expensive to crochet that way. However, the variety of colors available in sewing thread vastly exceeds the variety available in crochet thread, so I conceived the idea of holding one strand of sewing thread together with a strand of regular crochet thread (although I came up with the idea on my own, I was not the first person who has ever done this). Using some of the thread left over from an earlier project, I made this.



This is the only detail I'm going to show, but I was very pleased with the "frosted" effect, as well as with how much color the sewing thread added. It seems like such a thin bit of nothing, but it shows up well.



I devised a series of experiments involving different combinations of crochet thread and colored thread, and only recently did I complete the last of them. (If you can think of anything I missed, feel free to let me know, and I'll try that, too.) My next project was a single-color doily, using ecru thread (also used in the first doily)and light blue sewing thread. In real life, this doily has a denim effect.



This doily is made with white crochet thread, but uses different shades of sewing thread throughout, and there are no plain white sections.



This project involves using sewing thread on only part of the doily, as an accent, leaving part of it made with plain white crochet thread.



Departing from standard white and ecru crochet thread, I tried a "tone on tone" effect, using darker pink sewing thread on part of a doily made with pale pink croceht thread.



I also used a brighter color of crochet thread with several shades of sewing thread to create very subtle color accents.



And finally, I tried something more dramatic, using black crochet thread and adding a strand of scarlet sewing thread to accent certain parts of the design.



And with that project, I think I can say that my experiments are finished. I've used the technique in other projects, and I will continue to do so. I love having the variety of colors available in sewing thread, and I feel like an artist, painting with thread, when I plan and create my colorful doilies.

And while I'm on the subject, I'm still looking for two more people to join my "pay it forward" project. Go ahead, and give me an excuse to make something pretty!

Reading Log, February 2008

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen -- A reread, for the umpteenth time, and just as good as ever. I'm not sure anyone stands up to rereading as well as Jane!

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult -- Not a bad story--the kind of book that would make me look for other books by the same author.

Salem Falls by Jodi Picoult -- Well-written, but I did not like the story. Detailed witchcraft makes me uncomfortable (I sent the book halfway around the world via Bookmooch almost as soon as I finished it.), as do stories involving the violation of a children. This is the kind of book that makes me NOT want to seek out other books by the same author. Having reading two books by Jodi Picoult in the same month, it's an even gamble whether I will ever read another.

Last Days by Joel C. Rosenberg -- Sometimes you have books piled up and toppling over in the to-be-read pile, but someone gives you a book, and for no other reason than curiosity, it jumps the line ahead of long-anticipated titles, and gets read first. That's how it came about that I read this book, a sort of Tom Clancy meet Tim LaHaye author. This was all action, something I have little patience with, but it also lent unusual insight into the Israel/Palestine situation, which always intrigues me. The friend who lent me this also lent me another by the same author, but I set that aside for now.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy -- One of the few books I wrote a genuine review for, so I'll let that speak for itself.

The Tale of Beatrix Potter by Margaret Hale -- This was one of my non-fiction books for February. I watched the "Miss Potter" movie, and like everyone else, I wanted to know more. Imagine my amazement at finding this old paperback biography at a used bookstore in Krakow. Both my 14yo daughter and I read this very thorough and interesting account of much more of "Miss Potter's" life than the move could show.

Old Hall, New Hall by Michael Innes -- A well-written mystery, whose ending made me laugh.

Back on Blossom Street by Debbie Macomber -- I've seen and heard this author recommended here and there. It was strictly "okay" and not much more. I think I would have liked the book better if it hadn't practically recapped, in a few paragraphs, all the other books the author has written about the characters. I now have no desire to read those other books.

The Cat Who Played Brahms by Lilian Jackson Braun -- (reread) I was just in the mood for some mindless comfort reading, and this is one of my favorites in the series, because it covers part of the transition of the main character from down-and-out reporter to multi-millionaire.

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell (audiobook) -- Victorian literture rarely disappoints me. This was a great story, and deserved a proper post and review of it's own. I wish I'd written one!

That leaves me with the insane statistic of having read 10 books in February, which is a short month. However, it should be obvious from this list that most of it falls into the category of light reading, and comfort reading. Some months are like that.

Lady Audley's Secret

Oh dear! The blog has been neglected again. I still have to post my list of books read in February, which was considerable.

In the meantime, I really want to write about about Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon. I listened to this as an audiobook at Librivox. The entire book was read by a single reader who did a marvelous job, and I recommend it highly.

Within the first two chapters, a tension is created that is maintained until the very end. The reader is not told outright, but is given enough hints to know pretty well what Lady Audley's secret is. But we are left to watch the characters with a sort of breathless anticipation. When will A meet B? When will B hear about C? And what, in the end, will the guilty party do when concealment is no longer possible? The writing is very good--very skillful--and the story compels you from chapter to chapter.

At first glance, the story seems as if it might be a tawdry tale--titillating in a Victorian sort of way--but it is not. It is a moral story--a righteous story. A great wrong has been done, and there is a chosen one, compelled by higher forces to act so that the wrong will be revealed, the evil-doer punished, and the innocent comforted to the greatest extent possible. Seemingly chance circumstances bring the secret to light, bit by bit. Be sure your sin will find you out.

Sir Michael Audley marries young, beautiful, orphaned Lucy Grahame. She is charming, generous, sweet, sensitive, and devoted to her husband. Young Robert Audley, Sir Michael's nephew, is half-infatuated with her himself at the first, for she is much younger than her husband, but the inexplicable disappearance of his bereaved friend, George Tallboys is consuming his thoughts. Always an indolent, relaxed sort of person, he is goaded into action and vigilantly pursues every clue that might lead him to the truth, no matter how grievous.

I really do not want to give away some of the surprises in the story, so I will say no more. For those who enjoy Victorian literature, as I do, this is definitely one to put on the "to be read" list. Or, head over to Librivox and listen to it there!

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

This book won the Pulitzer Prize for literature in 2007. It has been read and reviewed all over, but that probably won't stop me from adding my thoughts to the mix.

This was the first book I have read by this author, and his style is not pleasing to me, but it did not bother me in this book (though I was put off by some others I looked at in the bookstore). The spare, staccato sentences have a rhythm to them that matches the story, and it fits too well to imagine the story being told in any other way. The occasional repetition of certain phrases adds to the lyric effect.

"You have to talk to me."

"I'm talking."

Although, the way Cormac McCarthy writes it, there are no quotation marks or apostrophes.

This is a post-apocalyptic story, with no explanation of how the world came to be as it is. It reminded me of earth's surface in the movie The Matrix, but without the machines. In the movie, the humans declare, "It was we who scorched the sky," and in The Road, that is precisely what has been done. Some years ago (at least 5, I think; maybe as many as 10), the sun was blotted out, and the greater part of the population was killed. The world is ashy gray, and cold, and comfortless. In this world, there is no way to start over. Without the sun, there is no way to produce new food, and so the survivors are reduced to living as parasites on the decaying civilization, scrabbling for the remnants, of which it is only too clear that there must be a limited supply.

The book is the story of a man and a boy (his son)--nameless, ageless, hopeless. In this world, the weak and alone fall prey to bands of modern savages, who hunt the only thing left to be hunted. They are moving along the road, moving south toward the ocean, hoping it will be warmer. Along the way, they scavenge for food, try to avoid other people, and rarely remain in one place more than a day or two.

Early in the book, we understand that the father is dying, but he insists that they press on, down the road.

I don't want to give away the ending. Others have written that they thought about the book for days after finishing it, and it has been the same for me. The father insists that they press on because they "carry the fire." Not long ago, I read one blogger who thought the "fire" might be hope, but it didn't feel quite like hope to me. Nothing could be more hopeless than the circumstances of this world. Or at least, maybe the fire is just one small aspect of hope--the will to live, no matter what. But not to live as a savage--to live as a man, to preserve what shreds of dignity and fineness man has left, and they are not much.

One of the reasons I think this will to live is the "fire" is that the man actually has a hard time sharing his will to live with his son, who has known no world but this one. He has instilled in the boy a just horror of the worst kind of savagery known to man, but the boy is astute enough to see that they are not really much better--they may not kill outright, but when they steal or eat some food, they are contributing to, if not causing, the death of others. He doesn't want to be what he almost has to be in order to survive, and so his will to live wavers.

This book doesn't feel like realism or a "true" story to me. It has more of an allegorical fairy- tale quality--the dark woods, the wicked witches, the big bad wolves--but there are no heroes to make it come right. It was an interesting book--one to ponder--but not one I'd enthusiastically recommend to be enjoyed. You read this one to peer into the heart of man and see the worst that he can be, and how inadequate he is even at best.

Original Sin by P.D. James

I like P.D. James.

I like detective stories.

Ergo, I ought to have liked this book, and I did. (I stayed up too late more than once while I was reading it!) I also like my fiction laced with philosophy, and James obliges this taste, too.

Aside from the basic murder story, which must be solved because Adam Dalgliesh (detective and published poet) is on the case, this is a book about atheism. I was rather surprised by all the references to religion and atheism, but that's because I don't always pay attention to things I should: the title of the book is Original Sin, after all.

You've got dyed-in-the-wool atheists, a Jewish atheists (who feels he ought to apologize to God for not believing in him--traditional Jewish guilt), Anglican atheists, and, finally, not-atheists.

I'm still not sure I have entirely grasped P.D. James's message, but this is what I think it is. Man requires a god. Rejecting Diety by refusing to believe in it (as if that makes a difference) means that something else will stand in first place, and most often, that is man himself. In this book, we see various characters "playing God"--making judgments that are not truly theirs to make.

One of the characters--the murderer, and one of the atheists--declares, "I don't believe that our existence here has a meaning or that we have any future after death. Since there is no God there can be no divine justice. We have to make justice for ourselves and make it here on earth." (Oddly enough, I'm not sure the concept of justice has any meaning at all apart from divine authority.)

And he is answered, "If you want to act like God, you should first ensure that you have the wisdom and knowledge of God." Because he has made a terrible mistake, and the "justice" that he thought he was enacting was no justice at all.

One of the characters observes a couple of people praying in church, and "wondered what it was they found in this quiet place and whether, if he had come with more humility, he might have found it also."

Bingo, P.D. James. One passing sentence in a 425-page book, but she nailed it. Humility is out of fashion, but wisdom and faith demand it.

This wasn't the best P.D. James novel I've ever read, but I'm not sorry I read it. My February list of books to show that I've been reading a lot of less worthy books! Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile story and one I wouldn't hesitate to recommend.

Reading Log, January 2008

I am a bit shocked by how much I read in January. If I kept up at this rate, I'd end up reading over 100 books in 2008. I have read over 100 books in other years, but it does seem unlikely. I reverted to my old habit, a couple of times, of reading a whole whole book in a single sitting or two. It's not that hard for me to do, but it does require neglecting some things that probably shouldn't be neglected. Ahem.

Murder is Easy by Agatha Christie--A comfortable reread, in spite of the fact that it involves neither Hercule Poirot nor Miss Jane Marple. Plenty of red herrings and suspects from which to choose. Classic Christie. Love it.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card--Another reread, and in fact it is the second time I have reread the book. I find the story very gripping, partly because it combines educational philosophy (of a sort) with a good story. Although I already know what is going to happen, I still find the process and the story interesting. I've read all 8 or 9 books connected with the "Ender" story, but I don't know if I'm up to rereading all of them.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini--Gratified, I am, to discover I am not alone is rating this book less than spectacular. I do trust my own judgment, but I was afraid I might find myself all alone...or afraid that I had missed something hugely significant. However, I rather think not.

Dear Enemy by Jean Webster--An audio book, and although it was not what I was expecting, it wasn't that bad.

A Pale View of Hills by Kazuo Ishiguro--This is such a fascinating author.

Psmith in the City by P.G. Wodehouse--An audiobook, with too much cricket, but kind of fun to listen to anyway. This was my first encounter with Psmith, and he's not anybody I'd want to know in real life.

Original Sin by P.D. James--I wrote a review of this one that I'll post in a day or two. It was a very engrossing mystery and story.

Persuasion by Jane Austen--A reread, of course. I did not read any of Jane Austen's books in 2007, the first year in ten that such has been the case. Clearly, this year is going to be different. How many authors can have their books read and re-read to such an extent and still be captivating? Jane never disappoints. My 14 year old daughter read all my Jane Austen novels in 2007!

Time Cat by Lloyd Alexander--A children's books I preread before giving it to my 10 year old daughter. I have nothing to say about this book, which probably speaks volumes in itself. I think it will be most enjoyed by children who already have some knowledge of history, so that they will recognize the time-periods in the book. I liked the Prydain Chronicles by this author much better.

The Undomestic Goddess by Sophie Kinsella--I found this English book in a Polish thrift shop, so I picked it up for next to nothing. It was funny and entertaining, and an interesting view of how much women (and men, too) give up when they buy into the fast-paced, "success"-oriented lifestyle so glamourized by the media.

The Educated Imagination by Northrop Frye--I've wanted to read this forever, and included it as one of my non-fiction books for January. Reading it on top of John Erskine was interesting, because much of what they say is the same, and THAT is because they both hearken back to Aristotle's Poetry for their ideas.

Economics in One Lesson, by Henry Hazlitt--I wasn't able to join in all the discussion about this book, because I fell behind in my reading, and in fact, I still have a few chapters left to finish. But I will finish it!

Pickwick Papers by Charles Dicken--I'm sorry to say that I haven't finished this yet, but I did read from it during January.

"A provincial guy," "Holobutow," "A very controversial discussion with God," and "A Nihilist" by Adam Zielinski--short stories translated from German. They were all very short, and not especially remarkable, but that is at least in part because they are rather badly translated. I may skip finishing the rest of the stories in this (library) book because the prospect of reading more of them holds no appeal at all.

I have bumped into interesting-looking reading challenges on several blogs lately, but I am steadfastly resisting them all. I must make my own challenges. So, for February, I plan to read two more non-fiction books--The Tale of Beatrix Potter by Margaret Lane and Exit Into History by Eva Hoffman. I will also be reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy (Nobel Prize winner in 2007), rereading another Austen novel, and after that, who knows? Oh, I also have to finish Pickwick Papers and the the Hazlitt book, of course.

And find another audiobook to listen to.

A Pale View of Hills, by Kazuo Ishiguro

I received this book as a gift, and I have looked forward to reading it. I saved it on purpose to read in the new year.

This is only the seocnd book by Ishiguro that I have read, the first being Never Let me Go. There is a quality in both books that is the same--a sort of unreliable narrator who tells the story of both past and present at the same time, switching back and forth and drawing the two threads closer and closer, until...

Well, until you realize that the narrator IS unreliable, and there are enormous pieces of the story that do not fit neatly together. In fact, the threads of the narrative in this story are left dangling. I am not sure exactly whether it is the story of one woman, or three, or if all three of the woman in the story are the same woman. Or if, perhaps, there were two women.

A Pale View of Hills is narrated by the central character, Etsuko, a Japanese woman who lives in England. In the present, she is enjoying a visit from one daughter, while mourning the recent suicide of her other, troubled daughter. At the same time, she is recalling and reliving events from her life in post-war Japan. This is a quiet sort of story, with what I think of as a Japanese quality of keeping the emotions carefully controlled on the surface, no matter what is going on inside.

As the narrative draws to the end, we are left completely baffled about what parts of the story are true. I would have to read the whole book over again to see if there are any clues that I missed, that might give a hint toward the answer. However, I cannot read the book over again and receive the same impact that the sudden realization that I have been led astray gave me the first time. That sudden jolt seems to be the point of the entire book.

So, I plan to leave it for now. I continue to be intrigued by Ishiguro as an author, and I will certainly read more of his work as the opportunity arises.

Economics in One Lesson, part 2

Well, I have to admit I am rather proud of myself for hanging in there and being on schedule with this book for two weeks in a row. Henry Hazlitt is delving into the sort of territory that makes economics a fairly daunting topic--employment, tariffs, imports and exports.

While he does continue to offer examples that are as simple as possible (maybe if this were a modern book, it would be "Economics for Dummies," I did find myself having to read very slowly to follow some of his logic. He moves so quickly from one "logical" point to the next that I didn't feel I was always able to make the connections myself.

However, I was further impressed by the idea that I wrote about last week--that part of being able to understand the bigger picture of economics is having enough imagination to picture "what might have been." Every economic policy (presumably) benefits some groups for at least some period of time. What happens can be seen, observed, and (more importantly) calculated to produce statistics. The benefits that didn't happen because of any given economic policy are much harder to evaluate, and they defy calculation, so that it is difficult to make a comparison between the good that happened and the good that didn't happen to see which one would actually have been better. Hazlitt uses the term "optical illusion" in reference to a short-sighted or one-sided evaluation of economics. I think it is a good word, because optical illusions do deceive--the "evidence" of our eyes is so convincing, and it is always much harder to see, with the eyes of imagination, what is not there to be seen.

I think I understood the relationship between employment and production fairly well. Hazlitt calls production the end--because production is real wealth--and employment only the means toward that end. If we make employment the end rather than production, it seems we end up hurting both in the long run. However...long-term policies that may be good and sensible from an economic standpoint can still cause short-term, or even permanent hardship to some segments of society. Hazlitt admits that, but doesn't really offer solutions, as that is not the point of his book. He is merely trying to remind us that successful economics cannot occur if we only look at short-term results, or the results on one group of people.

I'm not really sure it's in the best interests of politicians (and they seem to be the economic policy-makers) to follow plans that would give the greatest prosperity in the long run. In the long run, they won't be around, and if they cause some of that short-term economic pain, they won't make it past the next election.

Curiously, I actually live in a place where some of those hard decisions were made. Poland, as a communist country, enjoyed "full employment," and industry was owned by the government, and wages were paid by them. In the early 1990's, Poland emerged from communism at the same time as many of its neighbors. However, while many eastern European countries adopted long-term plans for changing their economic systems, the Polish government divested itself of industry in favor of the private sector just as fast as it possibly could. Private owners took one look at inefficient, unproductive industries, and put thousands of people out of work.

I invite anyone to visit Poland today and compare its economic prosperity to that of its slower-changing neighbors. Poland has an illegal immigration problem not unlike that of the US, as Ukrainian and Russian workers come here to work for much better wages than they can in their own countries. Goods and services available here in Poland so closely resemble those in the west that there is virtually no difference, and that still cannot be said of countries further east. So I have an excellent illustration before me that Hazlitt is probably right. However, there were those many families who suffered and are still suffering because of the change. If you are under 30 in Poland today, you will probably have no trouble finding a job. If you are over 40...it is much, much harder. There is a generation, or maybe a generation and a half that are not going to benefit from the economic prosperity in Poland. They have suffered a permanent injury because of the changes. Those who were already retired have found their pensions woefully inadequate in the face of rising prices. Those older workers without the education and background to take advantage of the new economy can hardly earn a living wage.

And yet...the streets are full of new cars, the stores are full of every electronic gadget, everyone carries a cell phone, and there are no long lines of passive, patient people waiting to buy bread or eggs. Poland is as a whole much better off than before, in spite of the injury to some of its people.

Hazlitt doesn't really have answers about what to do for them, and from an economic standpoint, neither do I. The government who made the hard decisions is long since out of power as well. Hazlitt calls it an error not to look at the long-term effects of a policy on everyone, and I'm sure he is right, but for some people, the short-term effects are the only ones they are going to see, as they will not live long enough to enjoy the long-term benefits of sounder economic policy.

***


Be sure to read what others have to say in the discussion over at Dominion Family.

Dear Enemy by Jean Webster

Jean Webster is best-known as the author of Daddy Long-Legs, an epistolary novel about a girl from an orphanage who is given the opportunity to attend college. I've always had a vague idea that it was a girls' book--that if it were contemporary, it would have a "YA" label attached to it, and I think that would be relatively appropriate.

I listened to the lesser-known sequel, Dear Enemy at my much -loved Librivox recently, and I would have to say that I would not classify this book as a book for children in any way. I'm sure Jean Webster did not intend it as such. Dear Enemy is also an epistolary novel, being made up of the letters that Sally McBride (Judy's college friend from Daddy Long-Legs) writes to Judy and to others. Sally has taken on the directorship of the orphanage where Jean, now happily married to a well-to-do philanthropist, grew up. Charged with the task of making over the orphanage into a healthy, supportive environment for over 100 children, she tackles head-on any number of societal problems, from basic hygiene for babies to hereditary alcoholism to divorce.

For some reason, I wasn't expecting a book so full of opinions about society, politics, social responsibility, and reform. Most of it was pretty interesting (although I was positively horrified to come across the topic of eugenics), but it wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't really know anything at all about the author, but a little research on Jean Webster revealed that she was very much interested in various social reforms, including women's suffrage. All of her books (and most of them are long out of print) reflect her interest in the reforms that she wanted to see. It was rather sad to discover that someone who had worked to see better hygiene practiced in institutions died as the result of poor hygiene in the hospital where she gave birth to her first child.

I do think that the conclusions about children in Dear Enemy are fairly accurate. Ultimately, Sally comes to believe that "heredity" (a buzz-word of the time) means far less to a child's future than loving, careful rearing in a real home.

It's a shame that the book is so dated, and its purpose not at all relevant, because it relegates to obscurity an author whose prose really is excellent. Jean Webster has a very light touch. She combines humor and horror so well that it leaves the reader energized to tackle some hard thing rather than depressed and grieved about problems too big to solve. When I really think about it, I suspect that is not easy to do, and few authors manage it. The modern tendency is to emphasize just how dreadful something is, without offering the least hopefulness that things might be made better, except perhaps by some huge world-wide governmental solution.

The whole thing reminds me of the analytic way we have been taught to approach the world. We think in terms of "world poverty" instead of the working single mother two doors down who would be grateful for a grocery-store gift card or a homemade stew. Statistics do not awaken in anyone a desire for personal action. None of us can really have an impact on a statistic. We can, however, buy a warm coat for child whose father is in prison or fill up the gas tank for the pastor. Cheers for any book that could stir up your will to do something about the opportunities for service that are on your doorstep.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

As I perused a lot of the year-end posts about various bloggers' favorites for 2007, I noticed that The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini came up on a lot of lists. Almost universally, it received very high recommendations and reviews. In fact, I still want to read it, although I have not.

Quite by accident, rather, a copy of A Thousand Splendid Suns, Hosseini's second novel, came my way, and I looked forward to reading it with greater expectations than I probably should have had. I started slowly, giving myself plenty of time to read and digest, because I was sure this was going to be an exceptional book, and I wanted to get the most out of it. When I reached the halfway mark, I finally had to confess myself disappointed. There was potential and promise in the story, but I felt the writing was not at all compelling, and the story was positively mediocre.

Last year, I read a wonderful book of essays on literature by John Erskine (The Literary Discipline). In the preface to that book, he says:

I write here of literature as an art. Since I mean to exclude, as not art, many books of undoubted importance and of wide appeal, I must attempt at least to defend a distinction that to certain readers will seem arbitrary. A book may tell us of a life we already know about, or of a life we as yet do not know; the pleasure it gives us will be of recognition or of curiosity satisfied. Of course no books fall absolutely into one or the other of such extremes, but it is fairly accurate to say that every successful book does give us information, a new experience, or brings back an old experience to recognize. Though both kinds of books may be equally well written, we are inclined to ask only instruction from the one kind, but permanent enjoyment from the other. One is a document in history or sociology, in ethics or psychology; the other, as I understand it, is a work of art. (Emphasis mine)

I am going to be arbitrary, too, and contend that this book is "not art," although it is worth reading as a document, so to speak, of culture and history.

If you removed the basic story in A Thousand Splendid Suns from Afghanistan, which has a contemporary relevance and is a subject of curiosity to most of us, it would be unexceptionable.

I must be entirely just, and say that the second half of the book was better than the first. The story grew more compelling because the characters (some of them) finally became more than wooden puppets. There were a few plot revelations that were truly stunning. I enjoyed the second part enough to feel that my judgment of "mediocre" at the halfway point was not entirely justified.

And yet. I have no real interest in rereading this book, ever. The characters did not live and breath for me, except in flashes, here and there. I think Khaled Hosseini's writing is uneven--mostly unremarkable, with a few pages here and there rising out of the morass to stand out as very well done. And yet, I do believe this book would be classified by Erskine as a document that tells us something about life in Afghanistan, rather than about something the common experience of mankind.

And I realize that I have said nothing about the story at all! A Thousand Splendid Suns is the story of two women, married to the same brutish man, in modern Afghanistan. One of the most brutal realities in the book is the dates as they appear--the 1970's, the 1980's, the 1990's--this is very recent history, and yet so remote, so medieval, so primitive. Could there be a country in this modern age that makes laws forbidding women from showing their faces on the streets, or even walking there without a male relative to escort them? Apparently, there could.

I don't want to give the story away, but the only bright spot in the story is the friendship that develops between two women trapped in a hopeless situation.

In spite of what I've written here, I would still read with interest, but perhaps not such high expectations, Hosseini's first book, The Kite Runner if the opportunity arises. While it may not be in the halls of fame for centuries to come, there is a place for books like this, and I'm not sorry I read it.

Economics in One Lesson, part 1

While this book, Henry Hazlitt's Economics in One Lesson has been on my "want to read" list (the vague one that exists only in the foggy corners of my brain) for a long time, I was motivated by Cindy's schedule at DominionFamily to move the book from the foggy list to the concrete schedule, and it does fit nicely into my plan of reading two non-fiction books per month.

It's nice of Cindy to admit that economics is a weak area for her, since it certainly is for me as well. I have a much more difficult time comprehending economics on a large scale than I do comprehending economics on the small scale of home and family, although I have occasionally made observations comparing the two.

Hazlitt has really done a wonderful job of making large economic principles very comprehensible, and I am finding this book very readable. I already wrote one long post about what I've learned, Soviet-era refrigerators, and the economics of destruction, but that post got itself lost forever when my internet browser crashed.

So, I'll spare you the rants contained in that post, and focus on the one idea that impressed me the most so far. Hazlitt is basically saying that you need a really good imagination to see the big picture of economics, because part of evaluating the effectiveness of an economic policy is being able to see what is not there--that is, to see 'what might have been.'

For example, if you spend $50 to replace a broken window, the glazier is benefited by your expenditure, and you have a nice, new window. What no one can see is who would have benefited if your window hadn't been broken, and what you might have had (in addition to an intact window) if you had been able to spend your $50 elsewhere. No economic policy can be adequately evaluated only by looking at who was benefited, because some group will be benefited by any given policy. You have to use your imagination and see who was not-benefited (and perhaps even harmed) by the same policy.

As the scale gets bigger, I suspect it demands even more imagination. If tax-payer money is poured into a depressed region, and make-work jobs are created just for the sake of employing some people, then that region will be prosperous, and anyone may point to it as a success story (most likely for the sake of doing the same thing somewhere else, thus demanding more tax-payer funds). What no one can see is the way other regions were affected by having that money diverted elsewhere. Individuals in those regions, deprived of their spending power because of the taxes, didn't buy cars, build houses, invest in business, and didn't do other things they might have done if they had been able to keep their own money. It reminds me of a bridge project I recall--to build a bridge to an island off Alaska, where only 50 people resided (and they already had an adequate ferry system). Those 50 people would certainly have benefited from the multi-million dollar bridge construction, but those millions of dollars would not have been used somewhere else, and so thousands of people would have non-benefited from its construction

I have a hard time believing that makers of economic policy do not know this, but perhaps they are merely lacking in imagination.

I am a big-picture kind of person, and so I'm liking the way Hazlitt thinks so far. I'm looking forward to what the other participants have to say about these chapters, and I expect them to contribute greatly to my own understanding.