Neil MacGregor, A History of the World in 100 Objects

One word - brilliant. 

Ok, ok, just kidding, I will tell you something more.  Even though 'brilliant' would really be quite sufficient.

I definitely didn't expect it when I picked the book from library shelf.  It's a thick, brick-like volume and the images are not too striking at first sight.  I liked the concept, so I decided to give it a go, but to be quite frank - I didn't except much.  I thought it will be a series of boring lectures on items no one has ever heard about, something that only an art history freak would enjoy.

Oh my, how wrong I was. 

A History of the World in 100 Objects originated as radio broadcasts for BBC and you made have heard (of) it before, especially if you happen to live in the UK.  I haven't, but if I ever have a chance, I will definitely listen to the spoken version.  In fact, I'm seriously considering getting a list of BBC book publications and reading it A to Z - all the BBC books I've read so far were far above average.  And no, BBC does not pay me a penny for this glorification (although, if it wished...  haha).  They are just damn good, ok?

Back to the book.  The title is self-explanatory.  What it does not suggest is the extreme vividness of the book's language, MacGregor's extraordinary talent to actually bring you back to a particular time and place without using too many words or overwhelming the reader with dry facts.  I also enjoyed his elegant treatment of 'touchy' issues - whether political or ideological.  For example, the 100 objects are all housed in the British Museum (MacGregor is its director), but come from all over the world and some - yes, me too - could ask if they should be there at all.  The author negotiates this murky terrain with skill and diplomacy, not ignoring the debate, but not becoming overtly militant either. 

Read the book and decide for yourself what it is.  I can only tell you what it certainly ISN'T - it is not a dry treatise for professionals or maniacs only.  Oh, and do not fear its encyclopedia-like appearance.  Half of it is pictures anyway :)

Simon Goldhill, Love, Sex and Tragedy

I wonder how many accidental visits will I get because of this title - it's quite catchy as far as titles go.  But neither love, nor sex, not even tragedy have prompted me to pick this particular book.  It was the subtitle:  How the Ancient World Shapes Our Lives. 

Let me tell you a little secret:  I have a university degree in classical philology.  It's been years since I had anything serious to do with the classics, yet I still have a soft spot for all things BC.  I often complain that classic education is not valued in today's world and...  so does Professor Goldhill.  He makes a tasty promise in the introduction to his book: 

"He [Cicero] is asserting that history makes such a difference that, if you do not work to understand it, you cannot lead a full life, an adult life, in society.  History changes who you are, makes you who you are.  If you do not know that history, then you cannot really be self-aware.  That is a bold claim; and this book aims to show that it is true".

The book surely is interesting.  It takes on various aspects of culture and society - politics, sexuality, entertainment - describes their classical origins and compares them to our modern reality.  Stories are well told, supported by scientific data and digestable even for a laymen - and I believe this is the main benefit of the book, this makes it worth reading.

As to the self-declared aim of the author...  I do wish he convinced me.  I wish he could make it clear to everyone that classics is important and should be given more priority in our education systems or life in general (if only because it would make me slightly more employable).  Unfortunately he didn't achieve his goal, not in my opinion.  I agree that past events shape our present:  all past events, all cultures, histories and societies leave some traces which we can find in ourselves if we try hard enough.  Why should we prefere Greek or Roman culture above any other?  It is our culture, Goldhill says.  But it is ours precisely because we made it ours, by classical learning and yearning, by endless referencing to the past.  I don't mind, I just wish to note that this study of the ancient world to which we are encouraged in the book is exactly the reason why it is still so visible in our society.  The more effort we invest classics, the larger our classic heritage will be.  Yet are we really such helpless children without understanding or valuing this heritage?

I don't think so. 
Although the fact that I have been trained in just such understanding might make my judgement slightly flawed.

Herman Melville, Moby Dick

A touch of classics, anyone?

It's been a while since my last posting, but that's only because of the very first thing you need to know about Moby Dick - it draaaaaaaaags. 

But you cannot be nearing thirty without having read Moby Dick, am I right?  I'd hazard saying that it's one of the most often referred to books in literature.  Hell, even while I was reading it, I chanced to watch a Star Trek movie (First Contact I think it was) where captain Jean-Luc Picard was compared to captain Ahab in a heated argument with one of his ship's passengers.  Yes, Melville's classic had been on my reading list for a long time and finally I got it. 

It was totally unlike I imagined it.  I pictured maddened chases after the noble (and rather cheesy - do excuse my imagination) white creature, with the captain being a cruel tormentor of his slaving crew.  I imagined a dynamic adventure novel, something like Robinson Cruzoe, only happening on a ship rather than on a deserted island.  I imagined...  well, I imagined a lot of things but very few proved to have any coverage in reality. 

If you ask me, the book is not about Moby Dick at all, and not even about chasing after this particular animal.  It is a book about whales and whaling, with the famous hunt only thrown in as a background, as a skeleton on which all the rest is spun.  Pages and pages of Moby Dick describe whaling boats, whaling equipment, processing of whale carcasses, whale's anatomy, whale's behaviour, whale's history, literary references to whales, pretty much anything whale-related you can think of is included.  Even worries about whale's extinction as a species.  That in the end they do battle the white giant - well, I guess it was inevitable, after all it's a novel, not a scientific treaty (although it reads like one). 

I'm seriously wondering whether all this whale knowledge should be treated as sound and true.  Probably not - even school children know that a whale is a mammal, not a fish, and if Melville got this very basic piece of information wrong, how can a reader trust the rest?  But it reads well and sure as hell it sparks curiosity. 

I mentioned earlier that Moby Dick drags - yes, you have to survive over a hundred pages before the Pequod ship even leaves her harbour.  I actually started enjoying it after 300 pages or so...  Might be just me, might be the book, consider yourself warned. 

In the introduction to my copy, Patrick McGrath wrote that Moby Dick 'is now considered by many to be the best novel ever written in the English language'.  Luckily, it isn't so.  English literature would indeed look rather grim if Moby Dick was her ultimate achievement:  the language is pretty nightmarish and structurally, I've read many a better novel, but even so - it is decent.  Fairly decent, that's all. 

I'm off to learn something more about whales.

Eduardo Galeano, Mirrors

Two words - mixed feelings.  Let's start with the good news, shall we?

My copy of Mirrors was fabulous, and I mean it.  Not that it was new (although it was), but it was printed on beautiful paper, in an eye friendly font, decorated by stylish graphics.  It would be a pleasure to read even if it consisted solely of blah blah blah.  Well, ok, I might be exaggerating here, but only slightly.

As to the actual writing - yummy.  Kind of poetic, kind of metaphorical, yet in most cases with delicious bottom line.  Galeano has a knack for telling a moralising story without actual moralising, no sermons, but stories, pictures with a message that brings a reader to his or her knees.  Stories on mistreatment of women over the ages.  Stories of racism, of poverty, of power abuse, of cruelty and other ugly aspects of humanity.  I would be totally in love with Mirrors if not for one tiny detail...

Short and sweet - I don't trust Mr Galeano.  I don't have enough knowledge to speak with any authority about most of his stories, but there are some topics on which I am an expert and well...  Let's just say I can't accuse the author of scientific accuracy, or even journalistic objectivity.  The way I see it, he takes a story, an event, a myth and tells it in the way that will show his message in the best light, without bothering too much about facts.  His message is praiseworthy, sure, but even the noblest of messages suffers when dressed in propaganda.  Moreover, Galeano rumbles against using propaganda in politics - and proceeds to use distortions of the truth for his own means.  Ouch. 

As long as Mirrors is treated as creative writing, as an individual's view on the world's past and present, it is delicious.

Just double check the facts before you let it change your world.

Jan Morris, Travels

If you don't know it yet, let me tell you - Jan Morris is a GIANT of travel writing.  She (or once he, having been born as James Morris) has been to everywhere on our planet, or so it seems.  Any travel writing tribute/anthology/collection includes something of hers, and so does any bookshop's and library's travel section.  I've seen her described as the greatest travel writer of our (or indeed, all) times and well, she IS good. 

Even so, I'm not joining her fan club.  I can't quite put my finger on the reason, but somehow Morris's writing...  bores me (and yes, I do feel a bit as if I was spitting on a monument when saying so).  I can't quite tune into her visionary descriptions, I can't see what she sees in places she describes.  It might be because she steers towards what I perceive as poetry or even mysticism and my preference is for cold, hard facts and saucy anecdotes.  It might be just me.  And even I can't deny that her grasp of language is truly impressive.

Travels was written long, long time ago.  In 1976, to be precise.  In this particular instance, I believe the fact to be an advantage.  The world as described in this small collection of essays (150 or so pages) exists no more.  Hong Kong is no longer British.  Dublin is no longer poor.  None of other places included in Travels is what it was thirty six years ago, and it adds to the booklet's charm.  It's no longer ordinary travel writing, it's history.  A history not written by politically-minded demagogues, but by an eye witness who's not conscious of writing a historical account. 

For that alone, Travels deserves to be read.

John Simpson, Not Quite World's End

To say that I was pleasantly surprised is to say not enough.

I chose the book rather randomly, in the 'educate myself' mood and opened it more with the sense of duty than anticipation...  and stayed gripped from the first word to the last.  Interesting, well-written, world-conscious account of a journalist's life?  Yeah, sure, but it's still not enough.  Touching story of personal tragedy and joy?  Surely, but...  A behind-the-scenes peek at the BBC world and some political storms of our times?  Yes, that too.  A collection of travel/politics essays, presented in easily digestible form?  Again I have to agree.  Not Quite World's End is all that and more.

I don't know Mr Simpson from the TV (being blissfully free of this hypnotic curse of contemporary times), I don't recognize him either as a celeb or a professional.  I shall now.  If I ever come across something else generated by his pen, I'll read it too.  I know nothing of his other works, but after Not Quite World's End I'm happy to risk checking them out.  I'm not quite sure what charmed me so much in the book, if I was to point my finger to one single feature I would probably have hard time doing it.  Yet I was glued to each of 450 of its pages.  If this is not good writing, then I don't know what is. 

Subject-wise it's not too original.  Iraq (and the rest of Middle East).  Japan.  South Africa.  Congo.  Balkans.  Anywhere that a war correspondent can report from.  Yet, Not Quite World's End is not quite reporting, not really.  It a cross between essay collection and anecdote treasury and well... 

I loved it.  What's more to say?

Tony Horwitz, Into the Blue

Don't run yet, this is not another Baywatch incarnation.  The book's full title is much more revealing (and appealing, too):  Into the Blue - Boldly Going Where Captain Cook Has Gone Before.  Rather longish, but self-explanatory. 

There have been many books like that - an author chooses his interest, travels worldwide doing research (expenses presumably paid) and writes a report from his journeys in the book form.  A brilliant idea if I've ever seen one!  In this particular instance, captain James Cook is the interest and travels include some rather smashing destinations - Tahiti, Hawaii, Tonga, Alaska and others.  I keep promising myself that one day I will write a book like that, too. 

I might sound slightly sarcastic, but the book was actually quite alright.  Smoothly written, dynamic, funny - and it got better as it progressed.  I don't see much merit in reporting the state of monuments to Cook's memory worldwide (which is usually pretty poor and monuments are fakes anyway) but the body of information on the brave Captain was sound and interesting and overall it's a pleasant way of ingesting some history. 

Nothing life-changing but still - light, easy and pleasant.  And sometimes this is exactly what's needed.