17 Apr 2012
index | Colin’s home page | books: 2002–2004 : 2005–2007 : 2008 : 2009/10 : 2011 | language dictionaries
Currently reading: Storia di Napoli, by V. Gliejeses
A little tedious before the Swabians, then reasonably interesting. Huge pages – the 400 I’ve read so far should count double.
The author devotes a longish section at the end of each chapter to cultural history. I have not so far read these parts with any interest. It’s fascinating to read about authors and painters whose works you value, but unbearably dull to read about figures of merely historical interest.
The evenimential history has its ups and downs. Gliejeses describes the viceregal period as ‘scialba monotona e triste’ (colourless monotonous and regrettable), which could profitably be quoted in his blurb.
Recently finished: La marche de Radezky, by Josef Roth
Nothing special.
A small pile of holiday reading
| French | Sp/It | |||
| 2012 | 1330 | 100 | ||
| 2011 | 3180 | 1500 | ||
| 2010 | 5380 | |||
| 2009 | 7071 | |||
| 2008 | 9350 | |||
| 2007 | 5770 | |||
| 2006 | 4500 | |||
| 2005 | 6530 | |||
| 2004 | 6300 | |||
| 2003 | 5400 | |||
The Mughal throne by Abraham Eraly. A most enjoyable read. Eraly is no Macaulay but he has some of the same tendencies – whiggish, trenchant in his judgements, and seeing history through its picturesque incidents.
Through the language glass by Guy Deutscher. Another very enjoyable read. Deutscher presents a healthy field advancing through ingenious and enlightening studes. But though it’s a good book, the interest lies in what the author reports more than in what he adds.
A visit from the goon squad by Jennifer Egan and There but for the by Ali Smith. Two books by female authors born in 1962 which featured in the 2011 reviews; both with rather mystifying non-linear narratives. There but for the has some wonderful moments – most of all the dinner party scene – but fizzles out. The goon squad, on the other hand, gains coherence as Sasha emerges as its centre.
Louvel le régicide by Jean Lucas-Dubreton. As one would expect, and readable account of an incident of no great significance. I think I shall draw a line under JL-D.
Varété by Paul Valéry. I read ‘La crise de l’esprit’ and its ‘Note’ and a few words ‘Au sujet d’Adonis’ without seeing why I should have.
Valéry assigns the distinctive qualities of European civisation to the triple influence of the Romans, the Greeks and the Church. One might question this – I shall – but there is also a circularity when he implies that it’s having these antecedents which gives it its value.
Rome and the Church at times had pervasive extent, but I don’t think European civilisation owes much to them. Greek thought had characteristics in common with the movement in European thought which was set in motion by the Renaissance (or in truth somewhat earlier), and the Renaissance was given impetus by the exodus of Greek scholars after the fall of Constantinople; but the lines of thought which it developed owed little to them, and I’m inclined to think that the main influence of Greek thought was by means of the ancient Greeks acting at a distance through their writings rather than through any cultural continuity.
The dominant feature of western thought which has given it its quality is its breaking free from the doctrines of the reigning religion. This feature is apparent in the Renaissance (15th century), the Reformation (16th), the Enlightenment (18th) and the scientific movement (19th). The 17th century – the century of the Counterreformation – is the century in which western society did little more than consolidate.
If I was to seek a role for the Church in the development of western culture, I’d be at a loss to know whether to look for a positive influence through encouragement or a negative one through provoking a reaction. If Christianity had been more tolerant or more rational than other religions we might look for the former; if less, the latter. In fact I suspect it was less tolerant and somewhat more rational than the average religion, but a bystander in the rise of western thought.
Discussing the contrast between European and Indian civilisations with Tracey, it occurred to me that one important feature of western philosophy is that it grew up in conjunction with mathematics (as did the thought of the Islamic Golden Age). The direct influence of maths on philosophy has not always been beneficial, but its indirect influence has been cardinal: it provides a paradigm for how to settle questions which can’t be settled empirically, of how to criticise and develop abstract theories. This is what was needed to take philosophy beyond rhapsodising.
Chaleur du sang, by Irène Némirovsky
An impressive but curiously detached book, taking a forensic view of rustic amours. Another author might think in terms of passion rather than overheated blood.
La mémoire retrouvée, by Edmund de Waal
French translation of The hare with amber eyes: okay, but not as good as it’s made out to be.
Train de nuit pour Lisbonne, by Pascal Mercier
Drags a little.
Recently visited: Lettres de Madame de Sévigné
My 1775 edition is in 6 tiny volumes. I started reading it ages ago and got nowhere. So far I’ve seen nothing except courtesies and chitchat. I read 100 pages before receiving something readable in the post.
Another small pile of holiday reading
The Infinities by John Banville. Mostly enjoyable because of its style, though a little leisurely.
Breve historia de los Borbones Españoles by Juan Granados. Interesting in spite of its summariness, and not too hard to read.
Orages ordinaires by William Boyd. A good novel (plot-driven, as you might say), quite easy to read in French.
The blue afternoon by William Boyd. A waste of time (and gory at times).
New Finnish Grammar by Diego Marani. Quite good – I wish I’d read it in the original Italian.
Parigi Libertina by Olivier Blanc. Only a moderately interesting subject matter, but a good writer: very knowledgeable, and sympathetic to his characters without being under any illusions about the society they created and lived under. I’d like to read more by him (perhaps in the original French), but the book which sounds most interesting (about spies during the Revolution) is all but unobtainable.
Blanc grants himself the indulgence of citing characters’ names in full, sometimes occupying more than a line of print: eg. ‘Stephanie-Félicité du Crest du Saint-Aubin, marchesa di Sillery, contessa di Genlis’.
My new scheme for improving my Spanish is to desist from a frontal attack, and instead read lots of Italian, which I find much easier but which has a fair amount of vocabulary and grammar in common.
A small pile of holiday reading
A week in December by Sebastian Faulks. This was very enjoyable. I found the author’s rather conservative outlook refreshing given its honesty (living as I do on a diet of rather smug liberalism in a certain newspaper) – until the author puts into his porte-parole’s mouth the question “where did it come from, this greed for money?” as if the behaviour of bankers in 2008 was a new development in human conduct.
Revolutionary road by Richard Yates, which I started but did not finish.
Cuentos Andinos by E. Lopez Albujar, which I hoped would be in easy Spanish but turned out to contain a lot of Quechua.
Mother Tongues by Helen Drysdale, which is fairly interesting, bien pensant, but (alas) didn’t enthuse me either.
And maybe more which I’ve forgotten.
Les brigands & Le drame des poisons, by F. Funck-Brentano
I thought FFB would be a good historian to read; learned and dispassionate, but with an eye to the interest of his subject. Maybe, but these were not well chosen books, in part because of too much similarity in their subject matter. They consist of anecdotes of early modern crime, sometimes with horrible elements. The pages of les Brigands are large.
Petit traité de manipulation à l’usages des honnêtes gens, by R.-V. Joule & J.-L. Beauvois
Not my usual subject matter. Interesting enough, but longer than it needs to be.
Bohème littéraire et Révolution, by Robert Darnton
A collection of papers on the book trade during the late ancien régime, interesting but not enthusiasmant.
En esto creo, by Carlos Fuentes
Too bad I don’t know Spanish.
Marie-Antoinette, vol III, ed. Arneth and Geffroy
The interest which had picked up in vol II rather declined again.
L’invasion, by Ludovic Halévy
Well written but... yet another war.
Kléber, by Jean Lucas-Dubreton
Fairly well written, but how much does one care about the lives of the Napoleonic generals?
index | Colin’s home page | books: 2002–2004 : 2005–2007 : 2008 : 2009/10 : 2011 | language dictionaries