Monkey: A Folk Novel of China by Wu Cheng’en
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
If you’re familiar with any Chinese folklore, it’s probably this story. But you probably know it as “Journey to the West.” It’s not only been released in numerous editions as a novel, it’s also been adapted for film, stage play, and I’m sure there must be a video game of it out there.
If you’re thinking, “Chinese folklore? Sounds boring.” Think again. This is a superhero story. Monkey, also known as the Monkey-King and “Great Sage Equal to Heaven,” is an immortal who has all manner of supernatural powers. He can fly. He can make copies of himself. He can transform himself—either disguising himself as another being or appearing as an inanimate object. He has an iron truncheon that can be the size of a sewing needle or a mile long and which is indestructible. Wielding said staff, he can defeat armies or deities.
In fact, the flaw in this story isn’t a lack of adventure or thrill. On the contrary, it’s one adventure after the next. If anything, the flaw is “Superman Syndrome.” That’s what I call it when the hero is so ridiculously overpowered that even when he’s fighting gods, dragons, or whole armies there’s still no doubt about the outcome.
Of course, the Monkey does eventually meet his match in the form of the Buddha. The Buddha defeats Monkey not in combat, but in a bet. That event shifts the direction of the story. In the early chapters, Monkey is goes about heaven and earth arrogantly wreaking havoc. He’s not altogether detestable. He does have his redeeming traits, but he’s insufferably arrogant and mischievous. After he’s imprisoned following his run-in with the Buddha, a monk is assigned to go to India to bring back scriptures (hence, a “journey to the west”) to China. Monkey is assigned to be the monk’s guardian and along with two others that they pick up along the way (Pigsy and Sandy) the monk is escorted on his journey. The party faces one challenge after the next, and the trip is long and arduous. Some of the challenges require brute force but in many cases they are battles of wits. So while Monkey may be overpowered, he does experience personal growth over the course of the story.
The story is told over 30 chapters, each set up with a cliffhanger. I enjoyed this translation by Arthur Waley. It is end-noted, which is useful given the historic and cultural nuances that may not be clear to readers.
It should be noted that this is unambiguously a Buddhist tale. There is a bias against Taoists and other non-Buddhist religions evident throughout the story. It’s not just the fact that the Buddha easily defeats Monkey when no other deity or group of deities can, there’s a steady stream of anti-Taoist sentiment. So, Taoists and Chinese Folk Religion practitioners be warned, I guess.
I would recommend this book for fiction readers, particularly if you have an interest in the superhero genre or Chinese literature.
The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right by Atul Gawande
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Checklists have a bad, bureaucratic rap. Like Taylor’s time and motion studies and forms filed in triplicate, checklists seem to exist only to compound the drudgery of the workplace. Furthermore, many of the sectors in which checklists are most necessary are also those in which they are certain to be resisted—i.e. places in which there is a strong leader who is unused to having his or her instructions challenged: e.g. operating rooms and airplane cockpits. The element that ties those two locations together (along with other places where checklists are found) is that they are domains in which extremely complex activities take place, and in which one missed detail can have tragic consequences.
While the main story being told in this book is about the author’s experience leading a task force to build a surgical checklist and research its efficacy via a global study. However, Dr. Gawande takes us on the rounds of industries that found checklists before medicine did, and which had a thing or two to teach doctors about building and using them—notably the construction and air travel industries.
The book consists of nine chapters. After an Introduction that features a surgical case exemplifying how unexpected case characteristics can easily be overlooked when seconds count, the problem of extreme complexity is described as a rationale of the need for checklists in Chapter 1. While we tend to think we humans are tailor-made for complexity, the fact of the matter is that we aren’t. Mother Nature gives no capabilities that aren’t demanded to survive in the environment in which one evolved. So while we’ve done a great deal of cultural evolution to increase our capacity to deal with complexity (checklists included), the fact of the matter is that our minds and bodies are limited instruments. We can only hold a few items in short-term memory at once. We are no good at multi-tasking—despite the fact that most people feel otherwise. And when stress throws us into “fight or flight” mode, we develop tunnel-vision, not helping our capacity to see the minutiae in the big picture.
Chapter 2 delves into the checklist as solution to the aforementioned problem of extreme complexity. This chapter begins with the story of a bomber aircraft that had awesome capabilities but was deemed too complex for a single pilot to fly. (All it needed was a checklist.) The chapter then goes into medical examples. The first is a study of one of the major cause of infections: central line insertions. This offers a prime example of a procedure in which medical staff members know exactly what to do, but often small details are overlooked leading to disastrous outcomes. Then there is the case in which a little girl was saved against apparently impossible odds, in part due to a checklist performance.
Chapter 3 is entitled “The End of the Master Builder,” and as that name suggests, it’s largely about the role of checklists in construction. Construction can be compared and contrasted with medicine. The major similarity is that both fields have such high degrees of complexity that many specialists must be involved. The major difference is that time isn’t so critical in construction. (Just stopping and mulling over a solution is frequently not an option in surgery.) The biggest takeaway of this chapter is that it’s not only the tasks to be performed that need to be on the checklist but also the communication between team members.
Chapter 4 explains how centralized decision-making can be death in complex environments. The principle case discussed was how Wal-Mart out-performed the government in the wake of Hurricane Katrina in large part because leadership supported but did not dictate to managers of the stores in the storm-damaged area. However, the most fascinating piece of information for me was the explanation of why Van Halen had its infamous contract rider about having a bowl of M&M’s with all the brown ones removed. Apparently, no one cared about the candy. It was just an easy way to see at a glance whether anyone had been through the minutiae of the document–minutiae that included critical information such as how much weight the stage had to accommodate—i.e. safety issues not so easily observed but which would be potentially devastating if missed.
Chapter 5 tells the story of the World Health Organization (WHO) contacting Dr. Gawande and his first attempt at building and implementing a surgical checklist. As to be expected, there was a lot about that initial trial that wouldn’t work.
This led the author to go to what he calls “The Checklist Factory” in Chapter 6. Said “factory” is at Boeing, and it writes and updates all the checklists for Boeing aircraft—which are then modified by the individual airlines, presumably within limits governed by regulatory agencies. While the construction people taught Gawande that communication had to be on the checklist, the aircraft people taught him the need to simplify. One can’t put every detail on the list, only those that could be easily overlooked with devastating consequences. (i.e. One doesn’t need to write “Make an incision” because that’s impossible to forget, but one does include “Ensure antibiotics were delivered.”) Boeing also taught the author that there are two different flavors of checklist: READ-DO and DO-CONFIRM.
Chapter 7 describes the pilot study of the revised surgical checklist in eight hospitals in eight different countries (four developed and four developing.)
Chapter 8, “The Hero in the Age of Checklists,” explores the problem mentioned above about there being resistance in a many sectors (including medicine) because those leaders have rock star vibe going. We admire risk-takers and those who excel under pressure, but checklists seem to run counter to those traits. Thus, even when it’s clear that checklists save lives, there can be a reluctance to adopt them. Of course, as in the airline industry, eventually the checklist becomes accepted, and its use becomes second nature.
Chapter 9 tells of one of the author’s own surgical foibles, and how it led him to work to improve the procedure in order to reduce the risk of that kind of accident. It’s also an example of how the checklist kept the tragedy from being much worse.
This book has its sources annotated, but contains no graphics or other ancillary matter.
I’d recommend this book, particularly for those who work in the domain of complexity. However, I read it because it was referenced in a book I’d read on decision-making under fear. So it may also be of interest to you if you’re into questions of optimal human performance.
All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This review will be short because, JUST READ IT.
“But, historical fiction isn’t my bag,” he said.
This isn’t that kind of historical fiction—i.e. the kind that binds one in a web of cultural minutiae and reads like a history book writ purple. This book will make you enrapt.
“But, I don’t like war stories. Too violent,” she said.
I bet you’ll like this one. Yes, it’s set during World War II, and war’s ugly face peeks around the corner from time to time, but one also sees how ordinary people do extraordinary things when exposed to the crucible of war. War doesn’t just bring out the worst; it also forces people to be better than they’ve ever had cause to be. The book is largely about a girl living under occupation and isn’t so much about life on the front lines.
How can I so boldly assert that one should read this particular book? (I normally lay out the facts first and only at the end make a recommendation.) Because this is one of the best crafted novels I’ve read. It’s extremely readable and engaging. The characters are superbly developed and one feels one knows them. Even the closest thing to a villain (if you don’t count war as the villain) is a complex and nuanced character who one wants to understand better.
I will tell you something substantive about the novel. It interweaves the stories of two teenage characters whose lives are fated to become entwined through the fortunes (and misfortunes) of war. The first is a blind girl who lives with her father in Paris. Father and daughter flee when the Nazis occupy France and end up living on the coast at Saint Malo with her great-uncle who is a shut-in owing to his experience in the last Great War. Of course, the move to the coast only delays the occupation and the point at which the war comes to them.
The other lead character is a German orphan boy with a gift for science who gets prematurely drawn into the war because of his great intellect and skill with radios. Not only are these characters both people who readers are drawn to, they both experience great growth over the course of the story. Imagine being blind in a war zone–or even just being a young nerd drafted into the war–and you can taste some of the emotional tension that resonates throughout this book. I won’t say that it’s all happy endings. It never is in war.
I’d highly recommend this book for all readers.
Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
This, Henry Miller’s first novel, is about a young man living a bohemian life in Paris in the late 1920’s. It reads autobiographically. It’s often said that literary fiction downplays story in favor of character development. This isn’t necessarily true today, but it seems to be the case with this 1934 novel. There’s not much story—though a little one is packed in at the very end. The book does illuminate the lead character, but the reaction that character evokes is neither love nor hate but more of an “ewww” of disgust. Put another way, he’s like a Chuck Palahniuk anti-hero (e.g. think of Victor from “Choke”), but without out the quirky humor to make him amusing and interesting. This will make more sense in the next paragraph.
This book is often classified as erotica, but many readers might not find it to be erotic. Like a shock-jock, Miller chooses the most vulgar term to stun rather than using descriptive language to arouse. The lead (and other characters) spends a lot of time in bed with prostitutes, but at the same time he’s sleeping on the couch of some acquaintance or grumbling that he can’t afford a sandwich. Lest one think I’m hammering the book because of gratuitous sex, let me say that it’s not the sex that I find dismaying but a guy whose priorities are so askew of Maslow’s hierarchy as to make one wonder if he’s of the same species. There’s an uncanny valley with this character, only not with respect to facial appearance. All of that would be fine if the character experienced change over the course of the book, but the character neither grows nor is destroyed. I should also point out that I like Palahniuk’s anti-hero stories, but Miller takes himself too seriously to be fun, and I think that fun is the only way such a character makes for appealing reading.
So far I’ve made this book sound horrible, but I didn’t savage it with a sour rating. Ergo, there must be some redeeming value. There is. Miller’s use of language is intermittently gorgeous. He gets in these streams of consciousness in which poetry infuses into his prose. During these times, the story—such as it is—disappears even further into the hinterland, but the words can spark. Maybe Miller should’ve forgotten the hype that the novel is the ultimate literary art form and devoted his efforts to poetry.
I offer a qualified recommendation of the book. If you’re a reader of erotica and heard that this was a classic of that genre, then pursue it with caution. However, if you love words artfully twisted into little flashes of light, maybe you should check it out.
It goes without saying that there’s graphic content, but there are other reasons readers might be sensitive to this book. Not that I encourage avoiding a book because a character makes one feel ill-at-ease. (On the contrary, I frequently encourage it.) If a lead who comes off as simultaneously lusting after and despising women is a trigger for you, be forewarned this is such a character. (Note: He may also be anti-semitic, racist, and homophobic as well, but those elements aren’t explored in great detail. It could well be that the character doesn’t like humans in general. Maybe he was supposed to be a robot after all [hence the uncanny valley] and in that case I recant this review.)