BOOK REVIEW: The Key Muscles of Hatha Yoga by Ray Long

The Key Muscles of Hatha YogaThe Key Muscles of Hatha Yoga by Ray Long

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Amazon page

This is a handy anatomy reference for yoga teachers and practitioners. The bulk of the book describes major muscles, or—when relevant—muscle groups. For each of the key muscles it gives the insertion, origin, innervation, agonists, synergists, and depicts the muscle in color drawings. The book also shows typical yoga postures in which the muscle is engaged or stretched. This gives one some idea of how the muscle is affected by changes in attitude and state of contraction.

True to the title, this isn’t a general anatomy and physiology book for yoga. It specifically deals with the muscular system. That being said, it does have some opening matter on the skeletal system, the various types of joints, and other fundamentals that one must understand to grasp how muscles create movement and change bodily alignment. It also has a few brief chapters at the end that deal with important issues like breathing and bandhas. However, if you’re looking for a book with substantial coverage of the anatomy and physiology of breath or nervous system activity, you’ll likely need to look elsewhere. The book also addresses the concept of chakra, which seems out-of-place in an otherwise scientific book, but it will be appreciated by those who view the body in that way and is easily enough ignored for those who want a strictly scientific presentation of material.

While the book is limited in its focus, it does a good job of giving a lot of information in a concise fashion. The graphics are easily interpreted and one can readily distinguish the muscles in question. I found the book to be well-organized and easy to use.

I’d recommend this book for any serious yoga practitioners, particularly teachers and those who need to be concerned about the minutiae of movement and alignment.

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BOOK REVIEW: The Martian by Andy Weir

The MartianThe Martian by Andy Weir

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Amazon page

If you like suspenseful science-fiction, humor, and are fascinated by science, you must read this book. I’m not kidding.

The premise is a simple cast-away story, except that it takes place on Mars—an environment in which a human can’t last for seconds without a lot of properly functioning technology. Astronaut Mark Watney is left for dead when a severe storm blows in, impaling him with a piece of metal, knocking out his vital statistics monitor, and blowing him into a drift. Having lost visual contact with Watney, showing no vital statistics, and facing the toppling of the crew’s escape vehicle by high winds, the mission commander decides that she can’t risk the lives of the entire crew to cart Watney’s body back home. The thing is; Watney isn’t dead.

The book is a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows associated with events that nearly kill Watney—either in an instant or by making his long-term survival impossible. The botanist / engineer must figure out how to survive for four years (until the next Mars mission is due—if it doesn’t get cancelled) with less than six months of supplies. (The mission was supposed to be one month but was aborted in the first week, but there were five other crew members whose rations were left behind.) If you think Tom Hanks had it bad in Cast Away, imagine having to produce food on Mars.

This book taps into the visceral feeling that works so well in the movie Gravity (but Weir does more homework on the science.) For tension, it’s hard to beat being adrift in space, utterly isolated from one’s species—or any species for that matter–and knowing you will die when your resources run out.

The main character, who is the only character for the first six chapters or so, is intensely likable. Mark Watney is funny, intelligent, self-deprecatingly humble, and can confidently problem solve in the midst of any crisis. If there’s a critique of the realism of this story (as sci-fi goes it is extremely realistic), it’s that Watney is preternaturally skilled at adapting to complete solitude. However, I don’t deduct for this, because if it showed him at the depths of despair that someone in his circumstance would inevitably go through, it wouldn’t be nearly as pleasing a book to read. If you’ve read a lot about sensory deprivation and / or what happens to prisoners over long stints in solitary confinement, I’d suspend the disbelief that might come from that knowledge and just accept that Watney is exceedingly good at saying, “Pity-party over. It’s time to make this work.” In short, humorous Watney is just a lot more fun to read than would be a despondent astronaut.

I think I’ve been clear that this is an outstanding book, and everyone should read it. I guess if you absolutely hate science (of any kind–because there’s botany, biology, physics, chemistry, engineering, etc. all rolled up into this book), you may find that it’s hard to stick with the glut of scientific / engineering discussions coming at you. Still, you shouldn’t hate science that much—what the hell is the matter with you. Weir writes in a readable style and the reader doesn’t get awash in minutiae. (For example, Watney even names the unit kilowatt-hour/sol [sol=a Mar’s day] the “Pirate-ninja” to make it more palatable and humorous.)

Read it. You’ll like it. Also, don’t wait because the movie is supposed to come out in the Fall.

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READING REPORT: January 30, 2015

Welcome to my second weekly dispatch on what I’ve been reading. Owing to my weird approach to reading, I tend to finish books in clusters, and this week I polished off the novel The Martian, the horror short story anthology 999, and three nonfiction books (Principles of Tibetan Medicine, The Key Muscles of Hatha Yoga,  and How Pleasure Works.) The only one of these that I’ve completed a review on is Principles of Tibetan Medicine, but reviews of the others will be in the works in the upcoming week(s.)


The star of my completed pile was Andy Weir’s The Martian. It’s a spectacular science fiction read that’s engaging from beginning to end. Readers who love science will find it particularly fascinating and well-researched. For the yogis and yoginis out there, Ray Long’s book on muscles as applied to Hatha Yoga is well-organized, easy to follow, and easy to use.

 

The completion of several books this week creates openings in what fiction and poetry I’ll be reading on Kindle in the coming weeks. Drum-roll please… I will be starting the following books this week:


MoYan_LDWMO

1.) Life and Death Are Wearing Me Out by Mo Yan: Mo Yan won the Nobel Prize for Literature back in 2012, and this 2006 book is about a benevolent land owner who is killed on orders by Mao Zedong, and is subsequently reincarnated as a series of farm animals.


 

IHaveNoMouth

2.) I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison: The title of this collection of short stories is also the title of the most prominent piece in it. The 1968 Hugo winning story is a post-apocalyptic tale of artificial intelligence run amok.


 

Aeneid

3.) The Aeneid of Virgil: I’m overdue to read this epic poem by the famous Latin poet written during the first century B.C.


 

In nonfiction, I made an impulse purchase this week that I’m about half way through reading. It’s called Zen Mind, Strong Body and it’s by Al Kavadlo. I’m having minor buyer’s remorse, not because it’s a bad book, but because it turns out to be a collection of blog posts, and so I could have probably gotten all this for free by digging around the world wide web a little. (Moral: always read the fine print on the dust jacket. I wouldn’t mind, but it was a bit pricey for rehashed blog posts.) Kavadlo is a personal trainer and advocated of calisthenics and advanced bodyweight exercises, and he has many interesting ideas on both mind and body. It has provided some interesting food for thought, but I don’t really need the hundreds of pictures of the author with his shirt off.

ZenMindStrongBody



 

I’m about halfway through Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s latest book, Antifragile, and would like to make some headway on that in the upcoming week. While I’m a fan of Taleb’s work, I’ve gotten bogged down in this one because it keeps going and going and going on about a rather simple concept–i.e. that some things become stronger or more robust when exposed to stressors. I’m not sure the book needed to be this long. I suspect that Taleb is the kind to throw a world class tantrum if an editor took a hatchet to a word of his writing–and now he has the following to make it work. He’s a smart guy and raises many excellent points, but he seems like a major prima donna. At any rate, maybe he’ll surprise me in the second half with something novel and interesting–in lieu of endless restatement of his (admittedly fascinating) thesis.

Antifragility



 

I also started a book a few weeks back called Zen and the Brain by James H. Austin that I’d like to get back to. It examines what science has to say about the practice of meditation from the perspective of a neuroscientist who’s also a Zen practitioner.

Zen&Brain



 

At the end of last year, I did a post about the Book Riot 2015 Read Harder Challenge. It’s a sort of scavenger hunt for readers. There are 25 categories of books, of which one is supposed to read at least one book each. If you can count the same book for several categories (I don’t see why not as long as they fit the description) then I have so far covered seven categories. (Not bad for the first month of the challenge.)

-Collection of short stories: 999: New Stories of Horror and Suspense

Author of a different gender: Tears in Rain (Rosa Montero) and Principles of Tibetan Medicine (Tamdin Rither Bradley) [Both females]

Science-fiction novel: The Martian

Collection of poetry: Leaves of Grass

A book recommended for you by someone else: The Key Muscles of Hatha Yoga

-A book originally published in another language: Tears in Rain  (Spanish)

A book published in 2014: The Martian (Some might dispute this as it was self-published in 2011, but not picked up by a publisher until 2014.)

BOOK REVIEW: Principles of Tibetan Medicine by Dr. Tamdin Sither Bradley

Principles of Tibetan MedicinePrinciples of Tibetan Medicine by Tamdin Bradley

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Amazon page

Full disclosure: let me first state that I’m a scientific-minded person and skeptic by nature, and if you’re expecting a review by a true believer, you may be disappointed.

A couple of questions may arise from the disclosure above. First, why do I feel I need to make such a commentary? Well, because this is a book about a system of medicine (i.e. gso-ba rig-pa) that developed within a country that was isolated for centuries and in which every aspect of knowledge was infused with and influenced by religious belief—both pre-Buddhist and Buddhist. Because of this, while some of the advice offered is surely sound, some of it is—from a skeptic’s point of view—bat-shit crazy. For example, there are herbal and dietary preparations to aid in digestion that may be completely sound and reasonable, and then there is the idea that Zombie spirits (one of 18 types of evil spirits) cause constant shivering.

The second question is, “If I’m not a believer, why read the book and review it?” For one thing, as I indicated above, I don’t think that just because the beliefs behind the “theory” of this system of medicine are baseless, it means that there is nothing in the book that is true or of value. The theory is that there are three kinds of energy (Loong, mKhris-pa, and Bad-Kan) and that excesses or deficiencies cause health problems. But it’s a 2500 year old system of healing; certainly they learned a thing or two in the process. It’s quite possible that they have learned things that scientific medicine has not. (Consider for example, Tibetan Buddhist monks have repeated and verifiably demonstrated capabilities—i.e. consciously controlling autonomic systems, that Western medicine would have thought impossible.)

The analogy that I always use is with kid’s Christmas presents. Parents hide the presents, and tell the kids that if there’s any tampering with them the kid won’t get anything but a lump of coal (you say that was just my parents?) Anyway, the kids find the packages, but are afraid to invasively tamper with them. Therefore, they feel the heft of them, they shake them, and they listen to said shakes. From that limited investigation, they develop a theory. The theory may be spot on, it may be completely wrong, or over several gifts it’s probably a combination of wrong and right. However, the question of whether the present does what it’s supposed to (i.e. bring joy) is not closely connected to the child’s theory, because it’s based on the parent’s observation of what the kid likes. That, my friends, is why systems of healing that are based on notions that are empirically wrong sometimes produce good results.

Second, while I’m a believer in science, I don’t always believe that Western medicine (rooted in science as it may be) consistently does a good job. Part of this is the fault of economists, policy types, as well as lazy patients who’ve created a system in which medicine only pays off if it can cut one open or give one an expensive medication. This leaves room for alternative systems of medicine that may not be so scientific, but that allow for the fact that changing patient behavior is often key to improving health.

I’ve taken a long time to get to the actual review, but I thought the reader should know from whence this reviewer was coming. The book is a little under 200 pages long. Its 11 chapters are logically oriented, and it’s easy to navigate the book. The author writes in a readable style, and jargon and foreign terminology aren’t a problem. It doesn’t have an index, but each chapter is broken up into many smaller subunits–so finding what one is after shouldn’t be hard.

The chapters cover the history of Tibetan Medicine, the nature of gso-ba rig-pa, the theory of Tibetan Medicine, causes of illness, human anatomy and physiology (not of the physical body as we know it), common diseases and illnesses, treatment techniques involving changing diet and behavior, medicinal treatment, representative case histories, and the nature of the Tibetan Medicine physician.

It’s not clear who the target audience for this book is. It’s not a self-help book as the implication is that the patient should see a doctor of Tibetan Medicine and not self-prescribe. Furthermore, while the book provides a good overview of Tibetan Medicine, it’s not an all-inclusive description by any means. The book seems to have been written primarily to make individuals aware of Tibetan Medicine and to give enough insight into the system that readers can differentiate it from Traditional Chinese Medicine or Indian Ayurvedic Medicine, both of which display similarities and differences.

I’d recommend this book if you’re interested in alternative approaches to healing, or if you’re interested in Tibetan culture in detail.

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READING REPORT: January 23, 2015

If I were a kid today, I’d be diagnosed with ADD in a heartbeat. I rarely read one book straight through. However, I read a lot, and that means I switching from one book to the next–reading a chapter at a time. I do try to read no more than one book of a given type/genre at a time–often unsuccessfully, as you’ll see. With this in mind, I thought I’d experiment with a weekly post on what I’ve been reading that week.

Book-Review-The-Martian

Fiction: The novel that I’m currently reading is Andy Weir’s The Martian. This book is gripping. It’s considered to be one of the best–if not the best–science fiction works of 2014, although it was self-published in 2011. This is a great example of a book that couldn’t get published despite being spectacular, and which will now make a bazillion dollars. It also explains how a 2014 novel is set to have a big budget movie adaptation come out in late 2015. This book is like the movie Gravity set on Mars, except that it’s smarter.  It taps into that visceral fear of what it would be like to die alone in space–not in a flash but with time to know you are going to die. An unlikely, but plausible sounding, set of circumstances result in astronaut Mark Watney being left for dead on the surface of Mars. But, of course, he’s not dead. Watney has to be creative to figure out how to live for four years in hopes that the next manned Mars mission will go forward as planned. It’s a roller coaster ride between him thinking he will surely die and him coming up with clever solutions. If you are into science, it’s particularly intriguing. I’m about 20% of the way through.

 

Foreign Fiction: I’ve also continued to read a Hungarian novel called Quarantine in the Grand Hotel by Jenő Rejtő. This is a silly (in a good way) locked-door murder mystery. I picked it up in Hungary over the holidays, and will probably finish it in the next week or so. (I’m about 2/3rds of the way through, and it’s only a 160 page book.) It’s short, highly readable, and humorous.

I also read a chapter from The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes by Jamyang Norbu. A number of authors have picked up the mantle of Sherlock Holmes from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  (Not to mention TV shows and movies.) This book is published in India by a Tibetan author who imagines Sherlock Holmes traveled to India and Tibet after he was believed to have been killed (along with Professor Moriarty) in Switzerland. (Going over the falls as depicted in the second Sherlock Holmes movie featuring Robert Downey Jr.) There are three parts to the book: India, Tibet, and Beyond. I’m in the last couple chapters of the first part, most of which takes place in Bombay.

 

Short Stories: I’m about 85% of the way through 999: New Stories of Horror and Suspense. This is a collection of short fiction of horror / dark suspense. It features authors such as Joyce Carol Oates, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, Eric Van Lustbader, and David Morrell.  All of the  works are short stories except for a novella/short novel by William Peter Batty. The novella is the last piece, and I’ve just started part II of it.

999_Horror&Suspense

 

Martial Arts: I just finished Dr. Anthony Catanese’s The Medical Care of the Judokabut I posted a review yesterday so I won’t get into that book. My next martial arts book will be The Pyjama Game by Mark Law, but I haven’t yet begun it.

 

Yoga: I’ve been reading two books related to yoga this week. I just finished Chapter 2 of Coulter’s Anatomy of Hatha Yoga. This chapter dealt with the anatomy and physiology of breathing. This book is an excellent resource for yoga teachers, but it’s pretty dense–which may explain why I’m only on Chapter 3. Not only does the chapter give general information on respiration, it also provides information specific to various yogic breathing methods such as abdominal, yogic, thoracic, paradoxical, and diaphragmatic.

The second yoga book I’m reading is Singleton’s Yoga Body, which is a history of yoga postural practice (asana practice). This book presents a controversial thesis, which is that postural practice (asana) wasn’t really a part of mainstream yoga until quite recently, and that it’s as much a product of what happened in the Western world in the early 20th century as it is a result of Indian yogic traditions–if not more. Having finished the first three chapters (about 30% through), I’m not sure whether I buy his argument or not. He has some documentary evidence on his side, but I know there is also a proclivity to equate the current era in which everybody documents laundry day with the past in which many people were much more secretive. It’s also often not true that the most vocal are not the mainstream. He may be correct, but he has yet to wow me. (Part of his argument is people like Max Muller and HP Blavatsky found hatha yoga [the style which most emphasizes posture] to be the domain of conmen and beggars.)


AnatomyHathaYoga_CoulterYogaBody_Singleton

 

Miscellaneous Nonfiction: I’ve got about 70 more pages to finish in a book called How Pleasure Works by Paul Bloom. As the title implies, this book is about the science of why people get pleasure from various things from food to sex to freaky sex to art to music, etc. The primary thesis is that there are hidden essences that are the source of pleasure. The chapter I just finished talked about an interesting study in which violinist extraordinaire Joshua Bell went into a subway station and played his $3.5million violin, and barely netted $30–even though there were people passing him who’d paid $200 to hear him in his tuxedo at a concert hall later that evening. The chapter also talked about art forgeries, and how some art is valuable when it’s associated with a famous painter and worthless when it’s a forgery by a presumably equally skilled forger (I say equally skilled because these individuals have been able to pass their work off to experts as a painting by a famous artist. In some cases, they weren’t forgeries but rather originals in the style of the famous artist and submitted as an unknown work found in a basement somewhere.)

HowPleasureWorks

 

I also finished the letter “B” in the book The Painted Word  by Phil Cousineau. This book is organized like a dictionary, except that it only contains certain English language words that the author finds particularly intriguing, and it gives background on usage and how the meanings have migrated. If you love language, you’ll find this book much less painfully boring than I have made it sound.

Painted Word

 

That completes the books I’ve been reading over the past week. I did purchase two books this week, but they’re far down the queue to be read. One is the graphic novel The League of Extraordinary Gentleman by Alan Moore, and the other is Right Ho, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse.

BOOK REVIEW: The Medical Care of the Judōka by Anthony J. Catanese

The Medical Care of the Judoka: A Guide for Athletes, Coaches and Referees to Common Medical Problems in JudoThe Medical Care of the Judoka: A Guide for Athletes, Coaches and Referees to Common Medical Problems in Judo by Anthony J. Catanese

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Amazon page

I’d recommend this book for anyone who holds a position of responsibility in a dōjō or a combative sport gym, including: teachers, coaches, senior students, trainers, etc. It’s intended for those involved with sport judō, but because there aren’t a lot of sport or martial art-specific books of this nature this may be one of one’s best option to get this information. I haven’t stumbled upon other books like this, but performing a search did result in similar books either generic to martial arts or for other martial arts. However, all of the others that I saw were either old / out-of-date, only available in hardcopy (usually at great expense), or were not by physicians. This book is available on Kindle and is quite inexpensive.

While it’s geared toward sport judō, many of the injuries will be common across martial arts. This is truer of grappling-oriented martial arts, but things like mat infections, students with various chronic ailments, and participants being knocked unconscious. (The latter is covered extensively, but arguably being even more of a concern for strikers.)

The book is useful in two ways. First, it discusses first aid and treatment for common injuries in the martial arts. It’s not a first aid manual, and will not replace training. (In fact, the book assumes it’s talking to someone who’s in a position where they’ve had at least minimal training / experience.) However, it may provide useful information about what injuries one should make sure to be trained in when shopping first aid courses. It also gives one ideas about differences of opinion on certain approaches to treatment or the decision as to whether a given participant is safe to participate.

Second, the book discusses whether prospective students with common chronic ailments can safely participate, and under what circumstance. In many cases, this book goes about this by saying what the judō rulebook says. While this may not be a perfect guide for practitioners of other arts, it may give a reasonable idea about how serious one should take a given disease or infirmity.

The book consists of 20 chapters. Most of the chapters cover common injuries and ailments in judō, generally arranged by anatomical systems. However, there are also chapters covering nutrition/hydration, issues for athletes going abroad / older participants / and special needs athletes, drugs and doping considerations, injury rehabilitation issues, psychological challenges, and the traditional Japanese methods of resuscitation and first aid (kappo and katsu.)

In addition to the core chapters, there is some useful ancillary material. First, there are vignettes interspersed throughout the book that could be beneficial. These vignettes reflect the benefit of having an author who is a medical doctor, a long-time judōka, and an experienced match physician. The vignettes may be more likely to stick in one’s head than the blander presentation of information, and these sidebars often address unusual cases. Also, there are two glossaries—one that deals with martial art / sports terminology, and one for medical terminology.

While written by a physician, this book is not written exclusively for other doctors or medical experts. That is to say, it’s easily readable by a lay audience. Medical jargon, when used, is explained the first time in the text, so one doesn’t need to keep jumping to the glossary.

At least the Kindle version is graphics free. That would be problematic if it was a first aid manual, but that’s not this book’s purpose.

As I said in the beginning, if you have responsibilities for the well-being of martial arts students / athletes, you should read this book.

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BOOK REVIEW: The Philosopher at the End of the Universe by Mark Rowlands

The Philosopher at the End of the Universe: Philosophy Explained Through Science Fiction FilmsThe Philosopher at the End of the Universe: Philosophy Explained Through Science Fiction Films by Mark Rowlands

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Amazon page

This is one of those books that’s designed to make tedious material palatable. Rowlands achieves this by conveying the concepts of erudite philosophers such as Plato, Nietzsche, Sartre, Laplace, Kant, Heraclitus, Wittgenstein, Hume, and Heidegger through the lens of popular speculative fiction movies (almost all Sci-fi.)

The book uses thirteen films as case studies to consider ten critical philosophical concepts (over ten chapters.) Virtually all sci-fi fans are likely to have seen most—if not all—of these films. They include: Frankenstein, The Matrix, the first two Terminator films, Total Recall (1990), The Sixth Day, Minority Report, Hollow Man, Independence Day, Aliens, Star Wars, Blade Runner, and The Lord of the Rings. I am not a film fanatic (though I do like Sci-fi) and I’d seen all but two of these movies (i.e. Hollow Man and The Lord of the Rings.) I can say that the book is understandable without having seen the movies, but it’s much more enjoyable when you have seen them. Although, as far as the two movies that I’d missed went, Hollow Man was easy because it’s a relatively straight-forward invisible man story, and—therefore—the link to that chapter’s question “Why Be Moral?” was simple. However, for The Lord of The Rings book I had to rely more on the synopsis the author provides to follow the chain of thought.

The philosophical issues that are addressed include: the meaning of life, what can we really know (if anything), what am I (or you or any other individual), what makes me (you, etc.) different from everyone else, is there free will, why behave morally, how broadly does morality apply (in other words, is it applicable outside humanity), do good and evil exist and (if so) what differentiates them, what does it mean to be mortal, and what’s wrong with moral relativism. If you’ve seen the movies, and give it some thought, you can probably match the movies to the questions easily.

I enjoyed this book. First of all, I will admit that it’s easier to follow the concepts and for them to stick with one when one puts them in terms of movies one has seen (in some cases, several times.) Second, the author has a good sense of humor. While Rowlands is a Professor of Philosophy, this book doesn’t read in the humorless and dry tone of academic writing. On the contrary, it’s meant for a popular audience and it reads for a popular audience. It should be noted that the humor and the exclusive focus on movies (versus literature or films) set this book aside from a number of others that are superficially quite the same. I have another book in storage back home called Science Fiction and Philosophy that is by an academic publisher, maintains the scholarly tone, goes into a bit more depth, but covers many of the same ideas (e.g. Brain-in-a-vat, etc.) using similar examples. I didn’t finish the more scholarly book, but if you’re looking for great depth but not reading ease you might pick it up for comparison.

Rowlands does overplay the “these-movies-are-so-bad-they’re-good” card, and when he does he sounds a tad professorial / pretentious. However, the book often reads like it was written by a colorful football coach rather than a Philosophy Professor. And, to be fair, in some cases it’s true that the films are delightfully bad. However, these are not B-movies like Attack of the Killer Tomatoes as one might think from the commentary.

If you’re interested in philosophy, but can’t get through two pages of Kant without falling asleep, I’d recommend this book.

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BOOK REVIEW: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

Leaves of GrassLeaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Amazon page

There are a number of editions of this collection of poems, as Whitman apparently continued to revise it right up until his death. The 1855 edition is popular but there is a “Deathbed Edition” which–as the name implies–is the closest thing to a final draft that exists.

Back in the day (the late 19th century), this was considered racy and controversial stuff, and the collection got Whitman fired from is civil service job as well as a great many vitriol-filled reviews. Like the works of Emerson and Thoreau, with whom Whitman shared some beliefs, it was also controversial in that the poem put man at the fore and religion was shunted out of the picture. (Trust in yourself and don’t blindly follow anyone was still a heretical notion among many at the time.) This isn’t to say that Whitman eliminated spirituality from his work (any more than Emerson did), references to the soul are commonplace—but it’s a mystic spirituality. There were features outside the “prurient” and religious that angered many, such as Whitman’s shining of light on the barbaric institution of slavery. However, today Leaves of Grass is considered one of America’s greatest and most beloved works of poetry, and for good reason. It beautifully reflects an America that was changing, an America subject to a new era of ideas both from science and from distant lands.

It should be noted that this is a life’s work. If you are expecting a typically thin poetry collection, you will be in for a surprise. Leaves of Grass is of a page count normally reserved for histories and epic novels. The collection consists of 35 “Books” that are quasi-themed sub-collections of poems. Individual poems vary greatly with some being only a few lines and some running for pages. Most of the poems are free verse, though there are sections that display a meter (specifically iambic pentameter.) Free verse is poetry without meter or rhyme. If you didn’t know there was such poetry, you may want to work through your Doctor Seuss before you crack open a tome like this one.

There are a few themes that are repeatedly revisited. One idea that made the collection so controversial is that it exalted in the human form and the physicality of humanity. In recent years, a lot of discussion of this work revolves around whether Whitman was or wasn’t homosexual or bisexual. Not that it matters, but the fact is there is a dearth of information about what form of sexuality Whitman practiced—if any, but one can imagine why people wondered. Whitman writes descriptively about both the male and female forms, and was not shy about verse that suggested lying with this gender in one poem and the other in the next. The poem “I Sing the Body Electric” is probably the most famous example of Whitman’s discussion of the body.

However, perhaps the most striking theme is a celebration of America, both in its natural state and as it was shaped by the people who settled there. In multiple poems one sees long strings of description and exposition about the various states of the United States. Whitman paints pictures of the nation as a collage showing the variations among its constituent parts. To a lesser extent, he does the same for the world (e.g. see Book VI.)

I enjoyed this collection, although I will admit I read it a bit here and a bit there over a long time period. I, therefore, probably missed some of the depth of meaning coming from how the poems were arranged. Maybe someday I’ll have time to go back and read it once more. However, the beauty of this collection is that it’s so many different things. It meanders like a river, and peers overland with an eagle-eyed view. It offers scenes that are like a hard-boiled work of film noir and ones that are like Ansel Adams pictures. It’s not anti-god, but rather about the god within, or the god within the blade of grass. Leaves of Grass offers brilliant turns of phrase, bold descriptions, and always interspersed with the author’s personal philosophy.

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BOOK REVIEW: Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

NeverwhereNeverwhere by Neil Gaiman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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Neverwhere taps into a reader’s imagination and the fantasy that beyond closed doors and locked grates, beyond the prying eyes of common men, lies something magical—not just the mundane sewers and conduits our rational mind tells us exist there. This magical world is “London Below,” and–to a lesser extent–rooftop London. It’s a world that exists below the workaday London that we know. It’s a London of angels and cutthroats, witches and warriors. It’s a London trapped in time, but unconstrained by the laws of physics or men as we know them.

The lead character is Richard Mayhew, a perfectly normal resident of London Above. He has a fine—if boring—job in the business world, and a fiancé isn’t right for him, but who he believes is close enough for an imperfect world by virtue of her being pretty, smart, and capable.

Mayhew is living an ordinary and comfortable life until he and his girlfriend come across an injured young woman on the street. While his fiancé, Jessica, steps over the girl because the couple are on their way to meet Jessica’s VIP boss, Richard refuses to leave the girl. The injured girl is a resident of London Below, and had collapsed to the sidewalk after escaping from the two London Below master assassins who killed her family. It turns out the girl, Door, is from a family whose magical gift is the ability to open doors—even doors that are locked, sealed, or that no one even recognizes the existence of. As no good deed goes unpunished, Richard’s assistance of Door pulls him into the world of London Below, and he soon finds that he’s almost invisible to the residents of London Above and that he’s been forgotten by Jessica, his friends, and his coworkers.

The rest of the book is a hero’s quest in which Door is trying to discover who ordered the assassination of her family and why, and Richard is trying to find out whether (and, if so, how) he can get back his life in London Above. Because the fates of Richard and Door are intertwined, they travel together along with a bodyguard named Hunter and a Marquis / conman in the debt of Door’s father named the Marquis de Carabas.

I enjoyed this book immensely. It’s highly readable and the reader will be drawn to the fate of the characters. It has that page-turner quality. I’d highly recommend this book for anyone who reads fantasy / speculative fiction–or who doesn’t but is willing to give it a try.

Neil Gaiman is, as always, the master storyteller. When the story calls for humor, it is genuinely funny. When it’s time to be scary, it creates shivers. The storytelling was good enough that I was willing to overlook an ending that—in less capable hands—would have felt flat and too easy.

I didn’t realize that Neverwhere was based on a BBC miniseries. In other words, for a change the book is based on the movie rather than the other way round. However, the book does concisely but vividly portray setting—a task that one might imagine being easier having gone in this developmental direction. And, of course, setting is extremely important in this book. The distinct feel of London Below, London Above, and Rooftop London must be conveyed.

Here is a link to a piece of said BBC miniseries:

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BOOK REVIEW: Tears in Rain by Rosa Montero

Tears in RainTears in Rain by Rosa Montero

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

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The title of this book, Tears in Rain will be instantly recognizable to sci-fi fans as a reference to the Roy Batty (played by Rutger Hauer) monologue at the end of the movie Blade Runner. For those who aren’t familiar, Roy Batty is an android who is about to die as the result of a preset lifespan established in his programming, and he’s reflecting on all those unique experiences that he’s had that will be forever lost with his demise—as tears in rain.

When I picked up this book, I thought it would exist in the Blade Runner universe. It does not. However, it exists in a universe that shares several common features with the world of Blade Runner, and—in fact—it gives a nod to the film as a prescient historic work of fiction. What Montero’s novel has in common with the Ridley Scott film is a world in which there are both humans and androids that have surpassed the uncanny valley—i.e. they are generally indistinguishable from humans (if they want to be.) Furthermore, these androids (also called replicants) have a short and predictable lifespan–though it’s presented as a mysterious flaw rather than intentional programming. Further, there is a degree of tension between humans and replicants (reps.) The book also shares the movie’s film noir feel. The book’s lead character, Bruna Husky is a private dick–if you will—and a replicatant, and she is investigating a series of murders by replicants gone haywire.

The focal point of the book is something not extensively addressed in Blade Runner or that film’s point of origin, the Philip K. Dick novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, and that is the need to build memories into these androids so that they can function like humans. Reps discover at some point that all their childhood memories—good and bad—are fake, and this is a point of consternation for Husky. It is the corruption of the memories that leads the replicants to kill. That fact is established almost from the novel’s beginning. What isn’t clear is who is doing it and why, and book follows Husky through her investigation of these questions.

For the most part, I found the book to be readable. It’s a translation from the original, which was written in Spanish. It didn’t have that rare page-turning aura that made me have to find out what would happen next, but it was a good, solid science fiction work. The characters are—as one might expect from my “film noir” comment—overwhelmingly gruff and terse and / or broken people. Not that the unlikable nature of the characters is responsible for the lack of intensity of interest in what will happen to them. I recently read an article about unlikable characters, and it pointed out (correctly in my view) that Nick and Amy Dunne of Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl are among the most detestable characters of recent literature, and yet that is a book one can’t put down. It’s difficult but not impossible to build intense interest with such characters.

Interspersed throughout the book are a few multi-page information dumps in the form of reports to an archivist who is a secondary character in the book–and who probably only exists to justify these info dumps. While the dumps aren’t excessive, neither do I think they are necessary. I don’t think there was much information in them that was necessary to the storyline, and what was could have been communicated more smoothly.

Part of Montero’s problem is that by tying her work’s title and important background details to Blade Runner, it becomes almost impossible to not compare her novel to either Blade Runner or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. I might have given this work another star if I wasn’t thinking about how it was less visceral than the movie and less clever than Dick’s book. (Without the info dumps or the comparison it would have been a 4-star for me.)

This is a worthwhile read for sci-fi fans.

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