Tagged: Nonfiction

The Gulag Archipelago

The Gulag Archipelago: 1918 – 1956 by Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, authorized abridgement with a new introduction by Edward E. Ericson, Jr., 4/5

Only post-apocalyptic fantasy novels could come close to the otherworldly horror that Solzhenitsyn writes about.  This is the kind of work that inspires both thankfulness and watchfulness in the reader – there is something chilling but deeply relatable about the outrageous, disbelieving silence that surrounded the ongoing atrocity of the Russian prison camps.  Despite the language barrier, grim subject matter and frequent use of sarcasm, the whole work is suffused with gentleness, humanity, depth and insight, the product of a spirit made beautiful through the tempering of much suffering.  I feel the need to read the complete, 3-volume work, since the abridgment felt awkward and cut out an extremely impactful section that I remembered from a previous encounter with a different version of the book, leading me to wonder what else has been sacrificed to the short attention span of the Westerner.

The Apollo Adventure

The Apollo Adventure: The Making of the Apollo Space Program and the Movie Apollo 13 by Jeffrey Kluger, 3/5

I expected this book to focus on the Apollo 13 incident and the making of the movie, so I was disappointed that Kluger spent most of it discussing less interesting (though undeniably historical) Apollo missions.  There was an absolute minimum of entertaining anecdotes sprinkled throughout, and hardly any insightful  info about the making of the movie.  I felt that, in an honest attempt to avoid retreading ground already covered in his book Apollo 13, Kluger stoops to using filler material and milking the franchise.

The Art of Raising a Puppy

The Art of Raising a Puppy by The Monks of New Skete, 3/5

Perhaps I’m just a bit jaded from reading two other puppy books, but I felt this one could have been a little more practical and a little less touchy-feely

For the Love of Physics

For the Love of Physics: From the End of the Rainbow to the Edge of Time – A Journey Through the Wonders of Physics by Walter Lewin, 5/5

This is a simple and delightful presentation of a variety of basic physics concepts.  I think every field of study needs a Walter Lewin – someone brilliant, positive and passionate, who is equally skilled both in his own field and as a teacher.

Traffic

Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (and What It Says About Us) by Tom Vanderbilt, 2/5

To put it bluntly, this book has no point.  The topic is interesting enough to sustain the first half tolerably well, but overall, it reads like a research paper whose author had a great brainstorm in the shower but subsequently forgot to form a thesis.  This means that, while many individual issues are addressed, no meaningful connections are made between them, leading to lots of cognitive dissonance (such as when one chapter’s claims clash with the evidence provided by the next chapter).  Mutant statistics are a concern, as Vanderbilt has no problem with drawing his own conclusions from complicated studies and statistics, though he is in no way qualified to do so.

Though the excessive end notes take up 1/4 of the book, unsourced claims still slip through.  Some are absolutely ridiculous, such as “We do not let children walk to school even though driving in a car presents a greater hazard” (275).

One last issue that I feel deserves mention: Vanderbilt states that, since traffic accidents kill more people than 9-11 did,  Americans are inconsistent for submitting to increased anti-terrorism measures while resisting increased traffic safety measures.  I found this to be an incredibly (almost unbelievably) tasteless, offensive and illogical statement.  Surely Vanderbilt is aware that traffic laws affect more people’s lives more directly and often than anti-terrorism procedures do.  Surely it is obvious that there are a multitude of logical reasons why people would be willing to accept, for example, increased airport security, but traffic changes he suggests, such as lowering the speed limit (Vanderbilt later praises Bermuda for its 22mph, island-wide speed limit) and installing more red-light cameras (whose expense and efficiency are controversial) might be unsuited for nation-wide institution and require more discussion.

Rotting in the Bangkok Hilton

Rotting in the Bangkok Hilton: The Gruesome True Story of a Man Who Survived Thailand’s Deadliest Prison by T.M. Hoy, 4/5

This was much better written and less sensationalistic than the title (and especially, subtitle) led me to expect.  It was unusual in that it was not at all biographical or agenda-driven, but consisted of a short selection of powerful and insightful essays focusing on specific happenings, individual people the author encountered and aspects of prison life.

Tracking the Chupacabra

Tracking the Chupacabra by Benjamin Radford, 3/5

Basically, Chupacabras don’t exist, but I wish they did so they could drain the blood of all the incredibly stupid people who believe that they do.

Party Confidential

Party Confidential: new etiquette for fabulous entertaining by Lara Shriftman and Elizabeth Harrison, 3/5

Most of this was common-sense stuff along the lines of “don’t get drunk” and “compliment the food, especially if it’s homemade.”  However, it did provide a couple interesting tidbits of info (such as that “fashionably” late is 15 minutes) and an interesting peep into the A-list party style.  Regardless, I still say that parties suck.

The Pacific

The Pacific by Hugh Ambrose, 1/5

Some stories demand to be told, while others merely tolerate the telling.  Unfortunately, most of this book seems to belong to the latter category.  Ambrose’s attempt to follow his historian father’s success (who was involved with Band of Brothers and Saving Private Ryan, among other projects) comes off as extremely dry, forced and disjointed.  Instead of weaving together the individual stories of WWII marines in a meaningful way, he jumps jarringly from one short scene to another, preventing the reader from developing any cohesive overall impressions.  One small, but exceedingly annoying, example of Ambrose’s unpolished writing style is his inordinate fondness of the phrase “dribs and drabs,” which appears distractingly several times throughout the book.  He is also exceptionally bad at incorporating quotes into his writing, an unfortunate failing for a research writer to have.  The most interesting content, regarding Medal of Honor recipient “Manilla” John Basilone, is hardly original, as this celebrated soldier was already famous and his exploits well-documented.  Combine all this with descriptions of military tactics that read like cooking instructions to the world’s most boring recipe and you have proof that historical and writing skills are not hereditary.

The Story of Britain’s Best Buildings

The Story of Britain’s Best Buildings by Dan Cruickshank, 3/5

The commentary was generally tolerable and I appreciated the fact that all the photos were taken especially for this book (though it needed more photos).  However, the first chapter was filled with some of the most unmitigated bullshit I have ever read.  In the absence of reliable historical records about ancient Durham Cathedral, Cruickshank resorts to absolutely ridiculous architectural guesswork, making all sorts of strangely specific assertions about different aspects of the building.  For example, he describes a certain point in the cathedral as “the physical centre of the building and, in the analogy of the cathedral as Christ’s body, it marks the heart, the omphalos or navel that draws sustenance and sacred power from above.”  So what is it, the heart or the navel?  Could it perhaps be just the center of the building, which is an inevitable and not always wildly symbolic part of every single building ever made in the history of ever?  Here is another paragraph whose utter bullshittiness has to be read to be believed.  Keep in mind, this commentary is on a plain pillar with a simple chevron pattern carved into it.

“A simple analysis of the columns offers another answer.  The pattern is formed by 12 bands on each column, and each band has eight points, four pointing up and four pointing down.  The key or prime number here is four because eight and 12 evolve from four, and four is the number of the square.  In fact, the chevrons on this pattern can easily be explained in relation to the square.  Take a square and then place a second square on top of it but rotated 45 degrees and you have an octagram or eight-pointed star.  Turn alternate points up and down and you have one of the chevron bands on the column.  This pattern seems, then, also to be proclaiming the importance of the square in the design of Durham – this time in the form of an eight-pointed star.  The column, based on the circle, and the chevron, based on the square, are in combination perhaps another exercise in squaring the circle.”

Now if only Cruickshank would do an exercise in taking his head out of his own ass.