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adam_mcphee's Reviews (2.87k)
A woman deals with loneliness and poverty in Paris.
Absolutely brutal. I always had the notion that women were somehow better able to cope with poverty than men. Certainly the women I most admire in fiction and in life have always seemed to be able to shrug it off and keep on striving for something better. But this book puts the lie to that ridiculous idea. Poverty shames the poor, every one of us, regardless of gender. It shouldn't, but it makes you feel dirty about being alive. You can act indifferent, but it's still there, underneath.
At any rate, I think this book cured me of my longing to visit Paris.
Absolutely brutal. I always had the notion that women were somehow better able to cope with poverty than men. Certainly the women I most admire in fiction and in life have always seemed to be able to shrug it off and keep on striving for something better. But this book puts the lie to that ridiculous idea. Poverty shames the poor, every one of us, regardless of gender. It shouldn't, but it makes you feel dirty about being alive. You can act indifferent, but it's still there, underneath.
At any rate, I think this book cured me of my longing to visit Paris.
"lif is a raedel for dumb folc but the things i has seen it is not lic they sae. the bocs and the preosts the bells the laws of the crist it is not like they sae"
this is a good boc about a triewe anglisc man who was feotan the ingengas who cwelled harold cyng he is buccmaster a socman with three oxgangs but the fuccan frencs beorned his hus and his wifman so he macs himself a grene man who lifs in the holt hwit the treows
this is a good boc about a triewe anglisc man who was feotan the ingengas who cwelled harold cyng he is buccmaster a socman with three oxgangs but the fuccan frencs beorned his hus and his wifman so he macs himself a grene man who lifs in the holt hwit the treows
The science fiction part was audacious: the starship Leonora Christine travels at close to the speed of light to investigate setting up a colony on a new world. The crew has to deal with relativity and time dilation, and things only get worse as circumstances conspire to keep the ship from decelerating. Sadly, the characters are all incredibly dull. Most of them want to leave Earth so they can have more and different kinds of sex (the book was written in 1970, go figure), while the others just moan about how depressed they are.
Emil Bruhn; eleven years a slave, friendly, hard-working, with such few and trifling claims on life: the pictures, a girl and a modest job. And what had been the end of it all? An ex-convict was always an ex-convict. The most humane punishment would be to hang them all on the spot.
I understand the urge to abridge Hans Fallada, given that he has a tendency to overwrite, but it occasionally felt like something important was missing in this translation by Eric Sutton.
Still, every stage of Willi Kufalt's life -- his final days in prison before release, his life at a crooked halfway house, his establishment of a typing agency with his fellow excons and it's subsequent collapse, life in boarding houses, the crooked world of smalltown newspapers, his engagement to a glazier's daughter, and the thrilling collapse back into crime that includes a jewellery heist and prurient purse-snatching -- all feel like believable, realized worlds.
The book is grim. Maybe the grimmest I've seen from Fallada, aside from [b: Alone in Berlin|6801335|Alone in Berlin|Hans Fallada|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1403509628s/6801335.jpg|1481990]. There there's no question over whether Willi will end up back in jail, it's only a matter of time.
In an interesting historical note, Fallada's biographer Jenny Williams wrote that by the time the manuscript for the book was finished in 1933, Fallada understood he had to tread carefully so as not to upset Germany's new aryan overlords. But he was too naive to self-censor his depiction of a single mother, a homosexual relationship and a prison system badly in need of reform. So instead he wrote a half-assed introduction assuring readers that these problems had only existed in the old Germany and that the Nazis had already fixed all of this. His writing got him condemned and eventually denounced by the Nazis, while Thomas Mann sneered at him from his Swiss opera box for having made even the smallest compromise.
(Also, apparently the part in chapter ten where Willi is shown kicked out of school early by a pastor for having dared to meet with a girl who he'll never get to see again comes directly from Fallada's own life, explaining why it barely fits into the rest of the book.)
I understand the urge to abridge Hans Fallada, given that he has a tendency to overwrite, but it occasionally felt like something important was missing in this translation by Eric Sutton.
Still, every stage of Willi Kufalt's life -- his final days in prison before release, his life at a crooked halfway house, his establishment of a typing agency with his fellow excons and it's subsequent collapse, life in boarding houses, the crooked world of smalltown newspapers, his engagement to a glazier's daughter, and the thrilling collapse back into crime that includes a jewellery heist and prurient purse-snatching -- all feel like believable, realized worlds.
The book is grim. Maybe the grimmest I've seen from Fallada, aside from [b: Alone in Berlin|6801335|Alone in Berlin|Hans Fallada|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1403509628s/6801335.jpg|1481990]. There there's no question over whether Willi will end up back in jail, it's only a matter of time.
In an interesting historical note, Fallada's biographer Jenny Williams wrote that by the time the manuscript for the book was finished in 1933, Fallada understood he had to tread carefully so as not to upset Germany's new aryan overlords. But he was too naive to self-censor his depiction of a single mother, a homosexual relationship and a prison system badly in need of reform. So instead he wrote a half-assed introduction assuring readers that these problems had only existed in the old Germany and that the Nazis had already fixed all of this. His writing got him condemned and eventually denounced by the Nazis, while Thomas Mann sneered at him from his Swiss opera box for having made even the smallest compromise.
(Also, apparently the part in chapter ten where Willi is shown kicked out of school early by a pastor for having dared to meet with a girl who he'll never get to see again comes directly from Fallada's own life, explaining why it barely fits into the rest of the book.)
After buying an old Nazi jetpack from the back of a magazine (with extra rockets from an ad in a women’s fashion mag), detective Frank Burly is approached by the mayor to become Central City’s first superhero: The Flying Detective! It doesn’t end well.
I messed up by reading the Swartzwelder books too fast, though. They need to be savoured, because the joke per sentence ratio is so high you get tired of laughing and miss the humour.
I messed up by reading the Swartzwelder books too fast, though. They need to be savoured, because the joke per sentence ratio is so high you get tired of laughing and miss the humour.
Frank Burly takes a second job as a bus driver, and even a detective as stupid as Frank can tell there’s something weird about the passengers who get on at the mysterious new glowing bus stop out at the crop circles. For one thing, they pay the bus fare using money that looks like crops. They have antennae and they do a lot of hissing and mind control and they keep stealing military secrets. Maybe they’re magicians or something?
I messed up by reading the Swartzwelder books too fast, though. They need to be savoured, because the joke per sentence ratio is so high you get tired of laughing and miss the humour. Reminiscent of Chuck Jones cartoons.
I messed up by reading the Swartzwelder books too fast, though. They need to be savoured, because the joke per sentence ratio is so high you get tired of laughing and miss the humour. Reminiscent of Chuck Jones cartoons.
There's some good samurai wisdom here and some good anecdotes (a guy gets boiled alive in soy sauce), but it's overshadowed by its own stupid samurai wisdom.
I like the idea about always living as if you're already dead (I read an interview where Houellebecq offers it as writing advice). It feels stoic, until you realize these guys were ready to throw their lives away over petty slights. Revenge plays a huge role for the samurai, but there's nothing about the emptiness it leaves with you.
Best lines:
1. Furthermore, drinking a decoction of the feces from a dappled horse is the way to stop bleeding from an injury received by falling off a horse. ... "Life is dear to me. How can I drink horse feces?" Tozo heard this and said, "What an admirably brave warrior! What you say is reasonable. However, the basic meaning of loyalty requires us to preserve our lives and gain victory on the battlefield. Well, then, I'll drink some for you." Then he drank some himself and handed over the cup to the man, who took the medicine and gratefully recovered.
2. Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one's body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one's master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead.
3. My own vows are the following:
Never to be outdone in the Way of the Samurai.
To be of good use to the master.
To be filial to my parents.
To manifest great compassion, and to act for the sake of Man.
4. If you cut a face lengthwise, urinate on it, and trample on it with straw sandals, it is said that the skin will come off. This was head by the priest Gyojaku when he was in Kyoto. It is information to be treasured.
5. Also, in addition to having spoken sufficiently it is the highest sort of victory to teach your opponent something that will be to his benefit. This is in accordance with the Way.
6. Last year I went to the Kase Execution Grounds to try my hand at beheading, and I found it to be an extremely good feeling. To think that it is unnerving is a symptom of cowardice.
7. The late Jin'emon said that it is better not to bring up daughters. They are a blemish to the family name and a shame to the parents. The eldest daughter is special, but it is better to disregard the others.
8. Above all, the Way of the Samurai should be in being aware that you do no know what will happen next, and in querying every item day and night. Victory and defeat are matters of the temporary force of circumstances. The way of avoiding shame is different. It is simply in death.
Even if it seems certain that you will lose, retaliate. Neither wisdom nor technique has a place in this. A real man does not think of victory or defeat. He plunges recklessly towards an irrational death. By doing this, you will awaken from your dreams.
9. The bit where he says men's pulses have become womanly, and now men can use women's medicine to cure them. Or the bit about the chinese dragon. Also he says a samurai should have powdered rouge on him at all times, because it's good for your complexion. Or to wear badger underwear to avoid lice.
I like the idea about always living as if you're already dead (I read an interview where Houellebecq offers it as writing advice). It feels stoic, until you realize these guys were ready to throw their lives away over petty slights. Revenge plays a huge role for the samurai, but there's nothing about the emptiness it leaves with you.
Best lines:
1. Furthermore, drinking a decoction of the feces from a dappled horse is the way to stop bleeding from an injury received by falling off a horse. ... "Life is dear to me. How can I drink horse feces?" Tozo heard this and said, "What an admirably brave warrior! What you say is reasonable. However, the basic meaning of loyalty requires us to preserve our lives and gain victory on the battlefield. Well, then, I'll drink some for you." Then he drank some himself and handed over the cup to the man, who took the medicine and gratefully recovered.
2. Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one's body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one's master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead.
3. My own vows are the following:
Never to be outdone in the Way of the Samurai.
To be of good use to the master.
To be filial to my parents.
To manifest great compassion, and to act for the sake of Man.
4. If you cut a face lengthwise, urinate on it, and trample on it with straw sandals, it is said that the skin will come off. This was head by the priest Gyojaku when he was in Kyoto. It is information to be treasured.
5. Also, in addition to having spoken sufficiently it is the highest sort of victory to teach your opponent something that will be to his benefit. This is in accordance with the Way.
6. Last year I went to the Kase Execution Grounds to try my hand at beheading, and I found it to be an extremely good feeling. To think that it is unnerving is a symptom of cowardice.
7. The late Jin'emon said that it is better not to bring up daughters. They are a blemish to the family name and a shame to the parents. The eldest daughter is special, but it is better to disregard the others.
8. Above all, the Way of the Samurai should be in being aware that you do no know what will happen next, and in querying every item day and night. Victory and defeat are matters of the temporary force of circumstances. The way of avoiding shame is different. It is simply in death.
Even if it seems certain that you will lose, retaliate. Neither wisdom nor technique has a place in this. A real man does not think of victory or defeat. He plunges recklessly towards an irrational death. By doing this, you will awaken from your dreams.
9. The bit where he says men's pulses have become womanly, and now men can use women's medicine to cure them. Or the bit about the chinese dragon. Also he says a samurai should have powdered rouge on him at all times, because it's good for your complexion. Or to wear badger underwear to avoid lice.
