Tagged: 1975
Gilbert and Sullivan
Gilbert and Sullivan: Lost Chords and Discords by Caryl Brahms, 3/5
Even if the introduction did not acknowledge that the lives and careers of famous musical duo Gilbert and Sullivan was already a well-covered subject, the fact would be pretty obvious from the author’s incessant quotations and references to previously existing research. This college-research-paper approach is never the most appealing, and I was additionally put-off by the author’s many personal opinions throughout, grating self-references to “the present writer,” and comments that were difficult to understand (whether due to the passage of almost 50 years since the time of writing, or incorrect assumptions about the readers’ preexisting knowledge, is unclear).
Shortcomings aside, the book is generously illustrated and it was fascinating to read about the tumultuous, on-again-off-again relationship between an irascible lyricist and sickly composer, whose serious, classical works, though critically-acclaimed at the time, were soon eclipsed by the comic operas he considered beneath him.
Why I read it: a library reject that I bought from a book sale many years ago.
Shogun
Shogun by James Clavell, 3/5
This 1300-page monster of a hardback novel weighs almost 4lbs, and anyone who thinks it’s weird to dwell on a book’s physical dimensions in a book review has clearly not been been physically traumatized, as I have, by attempting to read it in bed every night! I am only partially joking; the book’s unwieldiness gives a palpable presence to the author’s leisurely writing style, which often makes it seem as if scenes were occurring in real time and not in the pages of a novel. As far as plot, well it’s got a lot. A lot of politics, religion, drama, and unacknowledged historical inspiration. There were a few chapters that dragged, but overall, I felt surprisingly engaged by the story, despite its obscene length and last-minute reliance on a deus ex machina of sorts. The detailed portrayal of 17th-century Japanese culture, written by a European making no claims to historical accuracy, seems problematic to me (I doubt something like this could be written nowadays without causing controversy), but surprisingly, there seem to be no complaints. While I am impressed by the author’s confidence and stamina, I found the length of the book to be a bit self-indulgent and would prefer to read a true account of the historical events portrayed in this novel.
Why I read it: When the first season of the 2024 TV show based on this book ended, I was left wanting more.
Spiritual Midwifery
Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin, 4/5
Almost half of this book consists of childbirth stories told by members of The Farm, a counterculture community that peaked in the 1970s. It is both entertaining and educational to read about other people’s experiences, but there are a couple factors that affect the helpfulness of these personal accounts, in my opinion. Firstly, it is clear that most of the narrators are deeply invested in the particular form of spirituality and beliefs associated with The Farm. The way in which the shared experience of such a close community can affect an individual’s way of thinking and communicating is something an outsider must account for. For example, the words “psychedelic,” “trip,” and “aura” clearly have a deep and nuanced meaning to these people, but it’s a little unsettling to encounter such vocabulary in a book that also gives serious medical advice. All in all, while there was a lot of interesting and helpful info in this book, I found Gaskin’s Guide to Childbirth to be less dated, more accessible and more trustworthy in tone.
Why I read it: a friend recommended it to me.
OmniRambles 