I’ll be on ESPN’s Outside the Lines sometime right after 3 pm EDT, and then on the Hot List at around 4:10 pm EDT. I’ll also be on AllNight with Jason Smith on ESPN Radio tonight.
→ October 21, 2008
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→ October 19, 2008
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Radio … in Australia?
Indeed, I’ll be on 1116 SEN in Melbourne, Australia, at around 12:05 pm Monday local time, which is around 9:05 pm Sunday EDT. It looks like you can listen live through their site if you can’t get to Melbourne in time.
→ October 19, 2008
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Decline and Fall.
I read lots of novels, mostly ones that are considered by someone to have great literary merit. I find that I enjoy a significant number of these novels, and have discovered many that ended up on the Klaw 100 because I stepped out of my comfort zone and read a book I didn’t expect to like, or had never heard of, or thought too long. But there is no doubt that I’d be perfectly happy spending all of my time reading books like Evelyn Waugh’s Decline and Fall
Decline and Fall is a nonsense novel along the lines of Scoop, with a faint underpinning of seriousness, as opposed to a more overtly serious work like Brideshead Revisited
The serious underpinning is a sort of latent nihilism and futile search for meaning (one character says he walked away from a career in the ministry not because he couldn’t believe in God, but because “he couldn’t understand why God had made the world at all”) and, along the way, a dissatisfaction with the answers one finds. Waugh was a misanthrope’s misanthrope, and it’s not clear what he hated more: the world around him, or himself. Pennyfeather accepts the seeming randomness in his life, although much of what appears to be “random” is actually due to the machinations and screw-ups of the people around him; one might argue he should choose better company, but either way, his reluctant acceptance of whatever comes his way, without ire or desire for revenge, is one way to cope.
For a little more on Decline and Fall, The Guardian’s books blog has a note from March of this year bemoaning the lack of appreciation of the novel today, 80 years after its publication.
→ October 16, 2008
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Browned and Braised Asian Carrots.
This is a pretty simple side dish, although it doesn’t scale well because of the sautéing required. You can use other liquids in place of the ginger beer, including chicken broth; you can also add about 1/3-1/2 tsp of butter at the end to turn the glaze into more of a sauce.
½ pound young, slender carrots, peeled and sliced into 3″ sticks
1 Tbsp butter
¼ tsp Chinese five spice powder
¼ tsp salt
½ tsp brown sugar
¼ cup ginger beer
chopped fresh parsley (optional)
1. Heat the butter in a sauté pan (with a lid) until the bubbling stops.
2. Add the carrots and let them brown on one side, approximately 3 minutes. Do not stir.
3. If you’re using a gas stove, turn down the flame. With the lid in one hand, add the salt, spice powder, brown sugar, and ginger beer, and clamp the lid down. Wait a few seconds for the initial violence to stop, then remove the lid, stir once, and put the lid down again. Raise the heat to medium-low and braise the carrots until barely tender, two to five minutes.
4. Remove the lid and allow any remaining liquid to cook away, taking care not to let the carrots burn in a dry pan. Serve with chopped fresh parsley if desired.
→ October 16, 2008
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Winnie-the-Pooh.
Seriously – A.A. Milne’s first book of stories for his son, Winnie-the-Pooh
The stories revolve around the familiar set of characters, including Edward Bear, better known as Winnie-the-Pooh, a “Bear of Very Little Brain” who has a series of minor adventures that typically involve a rescue at the hands of Milne’s son, Christopher Robin. The humor is unmistakably English, almost like Wodehouse or even Waugh for children, and the language used isn’t dumbed down. The characters have actual character – Rabbit is bossy, Owl is book-smart but light on street smarts, Piglet talks a good game but is actually a chicken, and so on. Winnie-the-Pooh is a little dim, but can sometimes be clever despite his diminutive cranium. And I have to admit that I share a certain affinity with the bear:
“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”
“What’s for breakfast,” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”
“I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
“It’s the same thing,” he said.
Speaking of Waugh, I’ve got one more review from my trip, his Decline and Fall
Also, there is a Klawchat today at 1 pm – HTML page is here but it’s not linked on the baseball page yet.
→ October 15, 2008
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In case you weren’t clear what’s at stake on Election Day.
It’s always helpful to have an expert help with the big questions. When the subject is politics, we should turn to our indie-rock musicians for answers:
“We are living through a seriously oppressive time when basic needs like health care and freedom of speech are up for consideration as though they were extravagant options and not necessities.”
Personally, now that I know that this is a binary matter, I’m voting for no health care and no freedom of speech. Doctors are so 2007 anyway. I’m glad this musician I’ve never heard of framed this so neatly for me.
→ October 15, 2008
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Some links on the economy.
Been collecting a few of these links over the last week with some intent to write a short column about the topic, but that’s not happening, at least not in a timely fashion, so here are the links for those of you looking for further reading.
A Thumbs Up From the Ivory Tower: In general, econ professors approve of the idea of injecting capital into the banks rather than a government purchase of bad assets, although the new plan is far from perfect.
Gordon Does Good: Grumpy Paul Krugman gives credit to UK Prime Minister (and former Chancellor of the Exchequer) Gordon Brown for pushing the recapitalization idea when the U.S. was pushing the bad-asset purchase plan. I generally don’t agree with Krugman, but he presents a very strong argument here until he goes off the rails by saying that “All across the executive branch, knowledgeable professionals have been driven out; there may not have been anyone left at Treasury with the stature and background to tell Mr. Paulson that he wasn’t making sense.”
How did it all happen?: A sort of pop-psychology take on the fallacies and (bad) thought processes that played into the real-estate bubble and subsequent credit-market meltdown. It’s thought-provoking, but it’s all argument and no evidence.
Denmark Offers a Model Mortgage Market: George Soros is certainly not among my favorites – his attempts to buy the 2004 election for Kerry and his gleeful puncturing of Asian market bubbles in the 1990s come to mind – but he’s positively tame here in describing a safe, strong way to continue the securitization of home loans.
→ October 14, 2008
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TV/radio.
ESPNEWS, 4:10 pm EDT today. Boston’s ESPN 890 at 5:20 pm.
→ October 13, 2008
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The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Nowadays people know the price of everything, and the value of nothing.
Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray
The plot, in case anyone here doesn’t know it, is simple: Dorian Gray is a young, well-off romantic who has his portrait painted by Basil Hallward, who (unbeknownst to Dorian) is obsessed with him. Prodded by the Mephistopheles stand-in Lord Henry Wotten, Dorian utters a wish that the portrait would age and he would remain young, which, of course, comes true. Dorian becomes a heartless, dissolute wastrel as the image on his portrait becomes not just old, but ugly and mangled. There is one small plot twist, but otherwise, you can figure out where the whole thing is headed.
The scene-stealer, however, is Lord Henry, who is the little red devil on Dorian’s shoulder, and who speaks in paradoxes and epigrams that are usually funny and sometimes thought-provoking, but never superfluous. Coupled with the occasional quip from Dorian himself, these bons mots infuse the book from sour morality play with a streak of cynical humor. Some of my favorite lines:
Women, as some witty Frenchman once put it, inspire us to do masterpieces, and always prevent us from carrying them out.
Nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all.
Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many editions.
It’s hard for us to see it now, but at the time of its publication, the book was controversial because it was seen as immoral, a stance that Wilde himself contested unsuccessfully by arguing that “There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.” Of course, the book scolds the reader on the wages of sin, and I can’t fathom how contemporary readers missed that. Dorian lives a hedonistic life, enjoys it less and less all the time, and eventually gets what’s coming to him. How this is an “immoral” book is beyond me. If anything, it was too direct in its moral, but the pedantic style is softened by the cleverness of the language.
→ October 13, 2008
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Deliverance.
James Dickey’s Deliverance
The novel tells of four suburban middle-aged men, three of whom are married with kids, all of whom are in some way bored with their existences. Lewis, the gung-ho weekend warrior of the group, proposes a weekend trip, rafting down rapids in an isolated forest in northern Georgia with some illegal deer hunting thrown in for good measure. The other three men agree, each considering backing out at some point before they hit the river, and their fears, irrational and abstract at the time, prove well-founded when the trip hits a snag and two of the men run into a pair of insane hillbillies. The four suburbanites escape via violence and take off down the river, a trip that leads to more violence and a desperate, intense quest for survival that pushes Ed, the book’s narrator, to the limits of his courage and strength.
Going into the book knowing the basic plot outline affected its ebb and flow for me. Everything leading up to the encounter with the psychotic yokels seemed deliberate, a forced quietude to dull the reader’s senses and increase the impact of the jarring rape scene that sets the adventure/survival portion of the book in motion. The depictions of Ed’s inner thoughts and struggles as he tries to recover from the attack and then assumes a leadership position in the attempt to get out of the woods alive elevate the book beyond a straight adventure novel into something more literary, a psychological thriller that is purposefully light on action as Dickey delves more deeply into Ed’s mental state. Thus establishing his theme, Dickey imbues more tension to the book’s “After” section, where the men have to finesse their way past the local authorities to get out of town.
The whole novel is a psychoanalyst’s – or a psychoanalytically-minded literature student’s – dream. Why, while he’s on the river, does Ed constantly imagine watching the way his wife’s back undulates when they have sex? Why do the men choose to go on this trip in the first place, and then ignore their doubts before they enter the forest? Isn’t it a little creepy that Ed has sex with his wife in the same position as the one used during the rape? (I mean, Dickey could certainly have had them use the missionary position. This had to be a conscious choice by the author.) Is this book, at its core, about the emasculation of the 20th-century American male? I feel like I’m back in my high school AP Lit class, where my teacher found a phallic symbol on every other page, but if I’m picking up on this stuff, I figure it must be pretty blatant, since I was the kid who would argue that the teacher’s oversexed interpretations were wrong. It would make great fodder for a literature paper, but I could have done without some of the imagery.
(Apropos of nothing: Was the rape scene in Pulp Fiction Tarantino’s homage to the scene in Deliverance?)
I’m backlogged on reviews, having knocked off three other books on the trip; I just started Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer