24 June 2015

A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

A Study in Scarlet (1887) marks the first appearance in print of the now famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr John Watson.  Of course, we are now very familiar with Holmes and Watson, so it was interesting to read the book that introduced them to the world.

Dr Watson, recently returned to London after serving with the British Army in Afghanistan, is looking for somewhere to stay.  Through a mutual friend, he meets Sherlock Holmes and the two agree to rent an apartment together - the famous 221B Baker Street - in order to share costs.

Holmes and Watson soon become involved in a murder inquiry.  A dead man has been found in an abandoned building.  There is no mark on the body and the word RACHE has been written in blood on a wall in the room.  Holmes is immediately able to give a specific description of the murderer, including his height, complexion, shoes and manicure.  Holmes decides to set a bait to draw the murderer out of hiding, and then ...

A Study in Scarlet is an interesting enough book, but it certainly has its flaws.  The prose is compelling and lively, although the structure of the book is problematic.  A lengthy digression in which Holmes and Watson play no part consumes a lot of the reader's time before the solution to the crime is revealed.  As a result, there is a missed opportunity for character development of the two people we want to care about and to know better.  Also, the depiction of a certain religion is highly contentious and could be upsetting to some readers.

Not the best book in the world, and not the worst.  Worth reading for its significance in terms of popular culture, and not a bad way to spend a quiet afternoon.

P.S.  Once again I was unable to solve the crime before Holmes did.

17 June 2015

Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

Live by the foma [harmless untruths] that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy.
The Books of Bokonon. I: 5

Kurt Vonnegut thought Cat's Cradle was one of his best novels, and I have to agree with him.  It is a tragicomedy of the first rank, and even more than fifty years after its first publication (1963), it is still a relevant and powerful document.

Cat's Cradle is narrated by Jonah (we never do find out his last name).  Jonah is intending to write a book about the day the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.  His research puts him in contact with the children of Felix Hoenikker, the (fictional) father of the A-bomb, and this leads him to the tiny (fictional) Caribbean island of San Lorenzo.  Here he finds and adopts a new religion, Bokononism,  meets lots of interesting people, becomes love-struck and then witnesses, um, something big - something very, very big.

Cat's Cradle is a retrospective narrative.  Jonah tells us early on in the novel that he is a convert to Bokononism, a religion founded in San Lorenzo by Bokonon, and he uses some of its theological terms to impart a metaphysical relevance to his tale. Bokononism is a fatalist religion and, therefore, a sufficiently discriminating practitioner will be able to see God's hand in even the smallest details of his/her life.  For example, when Jonah's cab driver suggests they make a detour during their trip, Jonah quotes from the Books of Bokonon: “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.”

Of course, Cat's Cradle isn't really about a fictional religion.  It is a satire on the human condition in general (especially in relation to science, religion, history and politics), and the state of world affairs as it was in the early sixties.  As one would expect, the Cold War figures in the narrative, as does U.S. imperialism in the Caribbean, exploitative capitalists and well-meaning individuals.  Vonnegut also investigates the ethical implications of scientific research and the ways in which its discoveries and technologies are used by others.  On any of these points Vonnegut is both hopeful and bleak.

If you are worried about the current goings-on in the Ukraine or the Spratly Islands, or even in the environment in general, then Cat's Cradle may be the book to make you laugh and cry at the same time.  Challenging, entertaining, seemingly effortless and highly recommended.

P.S.  Regarding Chapter 125 on Tasmanian Aboriginals, Vonnegut says: "And the aborigines found life so unattractive that they gave up reproducing."  He got this wrong.  I am glad to say the Aboriginal Community in Tasmania is strong, proud and still here.

09 June 2015

Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett

Welcome to the kingdom of Lancre, a mountainous realm more vertical than horizontal, a naturally magical domain that is the home of witches and the birthplace of wizards.  We've been here before but only briefly, in Equal Rites, when we visited the village of Bad Ass and met Granny Weatherwax, its resident witch.

Things get fleshed-out in the Wyrd Sisters: the village is now part of a kingdom, and the kingdom has a name and a history.  Alas, it has no legitimate king, for King Verence has been murdered by his cousin Duke Felmet (at the instigation of  Felmet's foreign wife), who then usurps the throne.  Understandably, Verence (or more correctly, Verence's ghost - who has been unfleshed-out) is upset by this, but so is something else - something big and powerful.  There is going to be trouble unless high-order action is taken.  And that duty falls to Granny Weatherwax and her two fellow witches, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlick.

Wyrd Sisters is the sixth Discworld novel, and the second to feature Granny Weatherwax.  Pratchett borrows riffs from Shakespeare's Macbeth and Hamlet in constructing his tale of witches, ghosts, usurpation and plays.  He deftly turns many of these tropes on their heads or bends them at right-angles, with surprising and often hilarious effect. Thematically, the book explores the power of words to shape perceived reality, and the corrupting influence of power - especially power held without public purpose.

Pratchett's ability to create memorable literary characters rivals that of Dickens.  In Wyrd Sisters, he further develops the character of Granny - this time as the first among the witches of Lancre.  But he also introduces the ebullient Nanny Ogg, a witch no less capable than Granny, but in her own special, out-going way.  Magrat, an archetypical new age wiccan, provides a counterpoint to her more traditional colleagues.

The supporting cast is no less memorable.  There is the mad duke and his sociopath duchess; Vitoller, a rumbling thespian, and his band of strolling players, including Hwel the playwright; and the canny fool.  Keep an eye out for Hwel and his bouts of inspiration:  side-splittingly funny.

Comparing Pratchett with Pratchett, I would grade Wyrd Sisters with an A.  He has written better, but only just.  And an A for Terry Pratchett is an A+ for a lot of other writers.  Worth the time, and then some.

02 June 2015

The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura

My friends know how much I like a good cup of tea - Irish Breakfast by choice, Lapsang Souchong if I am feeling adventurous.  Despite my liking for the beverage, I have never set much store by any ceremony that may accompany it: a cup, a teabag, some boiling water and a splash of milk - that's me.  Oh, and some peace and quiet.  Works for me.

But there more to tea than brewing and drinking, and that is what Okakura tells us about in his little book, first published in 1906.  In this slender volume, we are told about the history of tea, from its beginnings as a medicine, through its development as a beverage, to its culmination as the central element of a rigorous zen ceremony.

In setting out this history, Okakura delights the reader with digressions into historical anecdotes about tea, art, architecture, monastic life and zen philosophy, among other things.  The author is well aware of the beauty of the natural world, and he makes it shine out of every page.  Through terse but evocative prose, Okakura opens the Western mind to the psychology of the East (if we can use such broad terms), and the reader comes to a realisation of the philosophy underlying the aesthetic of the tea ceremony:
It was the process, not the deed, which was interesting.  It was the completing, not the completion, which was really vital.  Man came thus at once face to face with nature.  A new meaning grew into the art of life. The tea began to be not a poetical pastime, but one of the methods of self-realisation.
There is so much more to this book that I can possibly convey in the limited space available to me.  It is certainly worth reading, perhaps it is better to be lived.  But how?  Oh well, I'll have to think about that one over a cuppa.