Zed
If I thought the author could not follow up his debut I was mistaken. This was a cracking read, fun in fact. Chapter 4, Reclaimed Land, was sensational, an absolute hoot!!! Onwards and upwards as I read through the oeuvre of this very good author. For what it is worth Chapter 9 is a hoot as well!!! I played Lennon as I read it. And I have not read Murakami so what do I care.
I had the pleasure of a visit to Saint-Malo in 2011. I was on a mission to see the Bayeux Tapestry and was discussing with my sister that my wife and I planned a visit to not only the famous embroidery but also the D-Day beaches and Mont Saint-Michel. My sister suggested Saint-Malo for a couple of nights and to say that it was a pleasant stay would be an understatement. We had fine sunny days, warm weather and food to delight. I got myself the ubiquitous Breton pullover, we visited the nearby seaside town of Dinard and went and explored the nearby town of Dinan. The Emerald Coast was truly emerald as we left. When there I found it unimaginable that in the lifetime of many that this fantastic part of France was the centre of some of the fiercest fighting in WW2 and that 80% of Saint-Malo was destroyed.
With that I picked All the Light We Cannot See up at an independent book and coffee shop I occasionally drop into that tends to specialise on local Brisbane authors. This was not the normal book they held so when I asked why I was told that they thought is so good that had carried a few copies. I read the 1st few pages and there was Saint-Malo standing out at me. “The memories” I thought. With that I grabbed a copy.
To say I have enjoyed this fantastic read would be an understatement. A beautifully told bitter sweet tale that had me turning pages late into the evening. I am sure that this will stand the test of time. I have no doubt that way into the future people will be picking this up and being enthralled.
A very clever collection of short stories that at times left one using the imagination as to the endings. Written for its times and with that I wonder how a contemporary author would write these stories. My favourites were Pig and Georgy Porgy. Pig is just a macabre little story that made me laugh. Georgy Porgy is a very witty tale about a sadomasochistic sexually repressed vicar.
After “...the German bombing of Coventry” the author, Frederick Taylor writes “The damage inflicted on the cities infrastructure had lasted far longer and caused more long-term difficulties for war production than the actual bombing of the industrial plants” This statement on page 188 of my copy was constantly on my mind while reading this very good book on the appalling tragedy that was the bombing of Dresden on 13th, 14th and 15th February 1945.
The thought of the allies learning from the destruction of various British home cities to me highlighted the general large scale bombing that was becoming the normal course of events in the later part of the war as the allies drove home their advantage over the Third Reich. Yes the destruction was brutal and, debatably with hindsight, maybe uncalled for in certain cities, Dresden being one of those cities. But at the back of my mind was the fact that Total War was being fought and let's recall that the Nazis themselves had evoked that chilling call back in 1943.
I am also reminded that the wholesale destruction of Warsaw with over 28,000 deaths and a reported 80% destruction of that city that had occurred as early as September 1939. With that one could go on in discussing atrocity after atrocity, man's inhumanity to man that was the 2nd world war. Was this a war crime? Yes but then war is a crime really. In my years of reading WW2 history I have tried hard to be pragmatic as to the actions of the protagonists in terms of military action. In the end I came out of the end of this book thinking that the bombing was considered just another military action taken by the allies and that the horrific consequences to the civilian population and the cultural obliteration was never particularly on their mind. Nazi Germany needed to be defeated. Ideologies as far apart as western capitalism and eastern communism cooperated to that end.
As to the book itself it is divided into 3 parts. Part 1 is entitled Florence on the Elbe and is a history of Dresden itself from the dawns of time to the lead up to the bombing. For me this made fascinating reading as it made me realise what Dresden meant to the German Saxon people. Part 2, Total War, covers wartime Dresden from approximately the time of the Battle of the Bulge and the third part, After the Fall, covers the aftermath and beyond. The author has done a wonderful job in putting together a chronological order of events from the earliest time to the bitter tragedy that was the bombing. Part 3 also discusses opinions, controversies etc from just after the event itself through to the turn of the century. David Irving for example gets short shrift from Taylor and rightfully so. What I tend to get from books such as this is that there are always interesting events and individuals discussed that get little mention in standard historical books that I tend to read. Artists Otto Griebel and Otto Dix come to mind and in Chapter 8 we received a very interesting brief history of aerial warfare and the “laws” of said subject. The eyewitness accounts from the civilians make fascinating but also painful reading. The military accounts are very informative and interesting.
In the end though, and to quote a Goodread friends final words in a very good review of this very readable book, “The lessons are there for us all”. Indeed!
Well that was interesting. Easy to read and an odd kind of antidote to the black arm band history that I tend to devour. I am convinced that most of these yarns and the almost rustic writing style would not have been out of place in an English (not British) high school essay writing competition. But the subject matter? Bit more high/low brow shall we say? Almost a challenge to the more conservative in society? I mean the title of the collection and also the last story in the book, Gentleman's Relish. A “a highly seasoned anchovy paste” says the google search but go look at the urban dictionary! I looked that up after finishing and I have to be honest this was all new to naïve little old me. I have to admit though that I did laugh out loud when I considered a few of these stories in hindsight. Clever writer this Patrick Gale and what an imagination. Might read him again one day.
Patrick Gale is indeed an interesting writer.
This is the first Lawrence Durrell book I have read and he is certainly a superb writer. A description of his time spent in Cyprus during “Enosis”, Greek Cypriots demand for union with mainland Greece, this made fascinating reading. I had spent a week in Cyprus in 2000 and his description of the people and places had me recalling a pleasant week time.
For all my enjoyment of this very fine read I suspect that like another author I admire, Patrick Leigh Fermor, I may not be in agreement with a few of his views. He writes early that he was not going to make political observations. Well he did; “As a conservative, I fully understand, namely; ‘If you have an Empire, you just can't give away bits of it as soon as asked.'” he states at one point. He is clearly a colonialist of the higher order and yes he loved the locals but to me there was a fair bit of paternalism that could be at times condescending. At one point wrote that he thought the locals were cowards! And then “I knew at once that the Empire was all right by the animation of three African dignitaries”. Good grief.
In the end though it is a very good read, at times wonderfully descriptive and very interesting. It has also made me realise that I should read some Cypriot history as I had decided to do many years back but never had.
A fascinating subject and I learnt a lot. The author has backed his sources with a huge 140 pages of footnotes. The text itself is “only” 448 pages.
Coming in I could not wait to start but in the end found myself happy to end. In my opinion as informative as this book is the author is not that good a writer. His lack of economy in his words and his ability to repeat himself became annoying. For example “the white gold” was used instead of just “cotton” so often it became a distraction. Very early I actually thought at times it read as a translation such was the convoluted text and the length of some sentences. To have to reread long tracts just to get the point was disappointing to say the least.
After reading the Acknowledgment's I suspect that the author may have done most of his own editing and I think that that was a mistake. I like to think that, even though a lay reader, dense tomes such as this do not bother me but sadly this one just became at times tedious.
In the end though this is no doubt a more than a useful book to any that have an interest in the global history of cotton and how it fits into the capitalist world. It is a book that is an indictment of colonialism, forced labour, slavery, child labour, etc. Unfortunately, as the author highlights towards the end of the book, there are still issues in this area in cotton production to this very day. For all my editing complaints I can see me delving into this book periodically to reinforce certain points of view I may have.
Very interesting. For those that may not as have been as knowledgeable of Prussian history, this would be as good a place to start as any. I would say that that incudes me. I was not particularly aware of German history prior to WW2 until recent times and after reading a few books on subjects such as the reformation and the 30 Year War there is some very interesting reading to be had. This history of Prussia adds to that.
The rise of a nation called Prussia, from a backwater called Brandenburg to the mighty monarchy it finally became has been written very well by author Christopher Clark. He kept a steady pace throughout and it was fascinating to follow the growth of Prussia, be that by the various machinations of the monarchy, the politician's, the bureaucracy and last but not least the military. Chapters on Fredrick the Great made enthralling reading. The authors explanation of the four wars for me defined what became known as Prussian Militarism. Examinations of a social welfare system that was the envy of progressives in such places a Great Britain made fascinating reading. All this was 5 star presentation.
So why only 4 stars? Because I found the authors defence of Prussian militarism at times a little ham fisted and also far too lengthy. One example comes to mind when he wrote that the western allies did not understand the anti-Nazi feeling of the Prussian traditionalists. The Soviets did and their propaganda that was supportive of the perpetrators of the July plot of 44 was indicative of that understanding. In the next sentence he writes that this support was really in truth “all eyewash”.
In the end though a highly recommended book.
‘It is part of my existence to be the parasite of metaphors' writes the author in the very short story Loneliness. He has a point. This entire collection of short stories is riddled with metaphor. Riddled? For all I know maybe it is all just metaphor. It has also been a challenge for me personally.
This collection, to me anyway, is a heady mix of the metaphor with childlike fantasy and delirious dreaming that seemingly mixes the authors life memories/observations that cover his childhood through to the fear of old age and all the trials and tribulations in between. Something like that anyway.
Did I like this collection? Mostly yes but sometimes no. The highs had me rereading, taking in the dreams and the metaphors, even laughing inside. The final few lines of The Old Age Pensioner were sadly amusing as an example of that inner laugh.
Spring, the longest of the tales is amazingly surreal. It is so compellingly odd I am hardly capable of describing it. Under normal circumstances I would not be that attracted this style of prose but I actually reread it such was that attraction.
My Father Joins the Fire Brigade is weirdly hilarious. Sanatorium under the Sign of the Hourglass is weirdly sad and also very dark for that matter.
The Old Age Pensioner also covers the hilarious. It may also cover the demented sadness of old age and if so that puts my thoughts of hilarity in its place.
Loneliness? The title of that short work speaks for itself.
The interesting part of finishing this book has been my research into the author. Among other things he has little output. Only 2 books and I have apparently read the wrong book first. He was an artist; my copy has some of his really wonderful line drawings. He seemingly received little attention until after his terrible murder at the hands of the Nazis. There now seems a plethora of books, internet sites etc. dedicated to him. Even a couple of eminent writers, Roth for example, have made mention of him in their own work. He has had a film made from his works that is considered a Polish masterpiece of cinema.
So why have I only given him 4 stars (3.5 if I could)? Because at its best this collection is outstanding but when not at its best I have to admit it is a bit above my tiny little mind, I just don't get it. Also I have wondered at times if Schulz was consuming mind altering substances while writing all this crazy metaphor. On the other hand that thought may say more about me.
FINAL REVIEW.
I was a little forgiving early but it got too much. I have just had to write about a few of the many absurdities of this book.
130 pages in and will finish this but if it does not improve it will be lucky to get a 2 star rating. This author called the German soldiers Jerry, babbled about the British army taking tea and attempted to put on a affected accent.
On page 172 it reads “The Germans managed to achieve surprise on a scale comparable with Barbarossa in June 1941 or Pearl Harbour” Or? and not put a date to Pearl Harbour? Or even why put a date to Barbarossa? Not trust your readers to know what Barbarossa was?
Easy Company is forgiven with a boys will be boys attitude when they have their leave pass's revoked for appalling behaviour, on the other hand others? No such leeway.
Page 172 and 173. Apparently “The surprise was achieved, like most surprises in war, because the offensive made no sense. For Hitler to use up his armour in an offensive that had no strategic aim, and one he could not sustain unless his tankers were lucky enough to capture major American fuel dumps, was foolish.
The surprise was achieved, like most surprise in war, because the defenders were guilty of gross over confident”
Later
“....(the American generals in the Allied camp had no experience of defending against a German offensive)” It gets worse. Consider the above comments on the Battle of the Bulge and then later on page 191, after the Siege of Bastogne is broken we get lots of further Pop History for Patriots with some nonsense about the US army lacking man power because they did not raise enough Infantry Divisions to fight seemingly “lavish deferments” ( I kid you not) by the Germans pre-war in the areas of Industry and Farm Labour, and Fathers!!!
But previously he had praised Eisenhower (who is nearly always referred to as Ike, nearly but not always) who “.......blasted Hitler's assumptions by bringing into play his secret weapon.” Trucks and trailers over the still majority horse drawn German Army. “Ike ordered them to drop whatever they were doing and start hauling his reinforcements to the Ardennes” We are reliably informed that the “response was incredible” It was “mobility with a vengeance”. It actually reads as if he had ordered the trucks and trailers themselves the writing is that poor.
Back to the Pop history for Patriots on page 191 we then get that “it was all a question of timing” because “.....Monty, commanding the forces (all American) on the Northern shoulder of the bulge, stalled and shivered and made excuses, so it did not happen” Contradictory statements and a poor delivery are making this one of the worst books I have ever read. Did this really get such a high 4.1 rating here on Goodreads? Is this how forgiving we are of so called popular history?
Page 181. “The men looked like George Washington's army at Valley Forge, except that they were getting fired upon, had no huts, and warming fires were out of the question”
Page 182. “The bullet his Gordon in the left shoulder....” Many of these errors. Though instead of thought. My copy of this absurd book is 9 years after release and all of these errors should have been corrected. Did they not employ an editor?
Sergeant Christianson is called Christianson throughout except for a sentence on page 185 when twice he just becomes plain old Chris.
Page 205. Ambrose writes that “The Germans sent over some mail” This “mail” is in fact a “shell” and it is a “dud”. Apparently “Lipton just looked at it” and Mann lit a cigarette.
Page 210 Ambrose writes “Back in ‘42 the question was, Can a citizen army be prepared well enough to fight Germans in a protracted campaign in Northwest Europe? Hitler was not the only one who answered no.”
Also on Page 210 Ambrose writes “At this moment Speirs arrived, breathless. He managed to blurt out to Dike ‘I'm taking over'. Sergeant Lipton and others filled him in. He barked out orders, 2d platoon this way, 3d platoon that way, get those mortars humping, all-out with those machine guns, lets go. And he took off, not looking back, depending on the men to follow. They did” I actually snorted out loud at this. My snort then become uproarious laughter after “No one could locate one guy especially, who had stopped movement at a corner with two hits. Then Shifty Power, the man who spent so much of his youth spotting for squirrels in the upper tree trunks in the Virginia mountains, called out ‘I see ‘em' and fired” I suppose spotting for squirrels in the upper tree trunks in the Virginia mountains in your youth was bound to be useful for something one day and as Popeye Wynn made comment “You know, it just doesn't pay to be shootin' at Shifty when he's got a rifle”
Page 213 and Monty had apparently done a bit of “shilly-shallying” but Eisenhower ordering Taylor to attack and then Taylor ordering the rather tired Easy Company to attack because of Eisenhower's order but because of the lack of troops due to there being no reserves because of “limited mobilisation” that caused there not being enough troops to go round Easy Company are paying the price. Well something like that anyway.
Page 219 Ambrose writes of the victory of US forces over the Germans and at the end a long rambling rhetorical paragraph we learn that this victory was all a “superb feat of arms”.
The next line then states “The Americans established a moral superiority over the Germans” I would suggest that moral superiority over Nazism is a given prior to the war anyway. To actually imply that this was only “established” after a victory late in the war is nonsensical. This is one of the most idiotic points of view I have ever read in any book I have read about WW2. He has followed this up with “moral superiority” also being based on better methods in training, selection for command and democracy producing better soldiers than Nazi Germany. Considering the authors willingness to make excuses for previous setbacks this is just hypocritical. Also recall that at this point in time Nazi Germany was also fighting on the eastern front as well as in Italy. In fact it was being beaten by a Stalinist regime on the eastern front that Ambrose could hardly consider “Moral” or “Democratic”. But if the truth be told the less than moral and hardly democratic Stalinist regime made a larger contribution to the defeat of Nazi Germany than any other Allied nation.
Lets just say that what Ambrose has written is possibly debatable. He actually kills off any point in his absurd “Moral superiority” nonsense in the next paragraph alone by forgetting what he had previously written. He supports this “Moral superiority” by quoting Sergeant Rader who says “I almost killed a Kraut prisoner for laughing at me after I got to the town, only to have someone grab my M-1 and shout ‘Sarge, he has no lips or eyelids!' He lost them on the Russian front, frozen off” This is an absurd analogy. Sergeant Rader admits that he would have killed the prisoner if not for the missing lips and eyelids. In fact it took a comrade to take the M-1 off him to stop the possible killing of the prisoner. Add to this that Ambrose had previously discussed the killing of German POW's AND one member of the company, Liebgott if I recall, was kept away from prisoners because he could not contain himself.
I would like to make it clear that I make no judgement as to the rights or wrongs of Easy Company, “Ike” “Monty”, General Taylor or military tactics etc. I do make a judgement on Stephen E. Ambrose ability as a historian. This is an appalling book. Easily one of the worst history books I have ever read. In fact forget history alone as a subject, this is one of the worst books I have read period. I am genuinely staggered as to how this book is popular. Maybe the TV series? Many relate to the characters portrayed, visualise them? Is that it?
Interestingly I have wondered if it was just me that found this all too much. That I was missing something and that it was really a good book and I was just being too picky. I decided to research this book a bit further and there are accusations of plagiarism. Some have done deeper research into the specifics of Easy Company at war and there are seemingly many mistakes made by Ambrose to be pointed out. It seems that at a more academic level, shall we say, there are some who are very uncomfortable with what is presented in this book. I for one am not surprised. I am no historian, a lay reader only with a general love of history. With that in mind if someone as far down the food chain such as myself can spot an utter lack of objectivity, to say the very least, those with far more ability than me will be able to tear this book to shreds and tear it to shreds some have done. Rightfully so I say.
I have about 100 pages to go and will finish it. I suppose having not seen the TV series except for the first two episodes I want to know what happens. I also have Ambrose's D-day book and am considering reading it (as a form of personal mental torture) side by side with another D-Day book, maybe Beevor's, just to compare. I am not going to write anymore about the content of this book. All I can do is warn reader beware. The word appalling hardly does justice to this abysmal piece of work. I am giving this a begrudging 1 star, if I could give it less I would.
Who recalls this wonderful scene from a Seinfeld episode called The Marine Biologist?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uR2TpnuvwLk
Yep, who wants to have some fun? This was a point that Lynne Truss, an arts journalist, was trying to make throughout this, at times, laugh out loud book. Who wants to have some fun, but in truth is it really that much fun?
Lynne is better known for a book I have never read called Eats, Shoots and Leaves. That tome apparently bemoaned the poor use of punctuation in both the UK and the USA. A title such as Eats, Shoots and Leaves had for me a vision of an Aussie joke about a Wombat. Lynne's title is based on another joke about a panda. It seems that the Eats Shoots and Leaves caused a stir as, according to some, it is a mistake riddled book. Oh well never mind. I may never read it anyway.
The focus of this book is not about wombats or pandas but about 4 years in the life of the author as she was thrust from the more demure world of writing about the arts to the misogynist and macho world of Sports writing. And fun she had; well, kind of.
The book makes a very bright start when she gets to go to the Holyfield Lewis world heavyweight title fight in 1999 that had a result that my very ex (praise be) father-in-law would have called a “stew”. At the press conference prior to the big fight, Lynne comes across the infamous Don King. He dedicates the fight to women, but as usual it is one of his famous throwaway quips that is meaningless and of course quickly disappears. King is at his metaphorical best when comparing the upcoming fight to Kosovo, Bosnia and even Cyrano De Bergerac, among others. Lynne becomes enthralled and gets quickly caught up in the circus of it all. She in fact, dare I say it, becomes rather keen on Lennox Lewis as his physique gets a fair mention. Lynne has a seemingly great time in the insane world of professional boxing. In these early chapters she also shows her literary past by mentioning writers who have covered boxing such as Mailer and Oates just to name a couple. I actually read Mailers The Fight but can hardly recall it.
Lynne's literary past in fact reveals itself constantly throughout. Nigel Williams and Alasdair Gray get a nod. These were new authors for me, and I was immediately onto Goodreads thinking that I should read Wimbledon Poisoner and Lanark. (Yeah right!). Lynne even mentioned John Updike and we had a poem by Macaulay called Horatius because there was a passing resemblance in name with Lance Klusener the South African cricketer. We got James Hamilton-Peterson as well, and even an obscure sports and travel writer by the name of Harry Pearson. At this point I was loving this.
But then Lynne dabbles in soccer/football or “footie” as she likes to call it. Football dominates a fair bit of this book and makes for some interesting reading. She talks about the trials and tribulations of getting copy back to the editors in the days of poor internet etc. Tennis appears and Lynnes gives us her opinion as to the greatness of Andre Agassi. Horse racing gets covered and Golf is high on her agenda as she actually plays and enjoys the game. God forbid! A waste of good walk if ever there was one in my not so humble opinion of this so-called sport. Haha but give here her due she is in fact having FUN playing golf a la Kramer. Her opinions on the misogyny of the sports writer was heavily covered in the golf discussions and made for intriguing reading. She discussed the change in attitude to golf by the fans themselves at events like the Ryder Cup.
Rugby Union get dismissed by Lynne. She is not keen at all. She has no understanding of rules, and when the referees get involved it becomes an even bigger mystery. Lucky Lynne that she has never had to watch and report on my sport, Australian Rules Football! What she would make of that, I shudder to think.
Lynne got to also cover what she called miscellaneous sports. This covered such things as Darts. I happen to have played Darts for nearly 20 years and consider it not only great fun to play, but a great spectacle to watch at professional level. Damn it, lets cut to the chase as they say. Darts is the greatest sport in the existence of the universe. (No discussion will be entered into) She got to report on the BDO world championship and had a great time. She recognised the sheer drama of it and called it “the best gig” she got in 4 years. Nowadays, the money in professional darts is phenomenal, and the top players earn money that their forefathers could only have dreamed of. In fact, anyone bothering to read this review should search out the name Phil Taylor when it comes to professional darts as he is up there with the likes of Ali, Bradman, Nicholas and Jordan for domination of his given sport. He is a living legend in the UK and other sporting professionals of all the various codes all want to know his secret to staying up the top over his long and successful career. ( I once threw an 11 darter in comp. I felt like the greatest human being that had ever lived. I obviously needed to get a life)
Lynne wrote a lot about cricket and I enjoyed her observations immensely. I am a bit of a cricket tragic and was very interested in her thoughts as to its love of its own history as opposed to say Soccer where the history of the game can be a bit of an afterthought. Her point being that football fans tended to forget the past rapidly, whereas cricket had a long history that was revered by the players, the media and especially the fans.
In the end though, as much as I enjoyed this book, I have a serious issue with Lynne's profession. Journalism is, in my opinion, one of the lowest forms of employment and in fact I am of further opinion that the vast majority will prostitute themselves at the behest of their masters. Lynne admitted this over the Beckham send off at the world cup. Lynne claimed to have toned down her report on what to me from afar looked like a rather immature reaction by the great unwashed that in truth was stoked up by the press at the time.
Journalists ultimately are great at stoking the fires, at handing out the brickbats be that to the lowly sports persons through to the power wielding politician and I do not have an issue with that per se. But when they get their own comeuppance, they are the first to scream. Indeed, thin-skinned they are as a profession. And with that, Lynne let herself down very late in the book. She discussed misogyny and the treatment she received at the hands of a specific English sports writer called Brian Granville. Brian Granville is the epitome of the old school reporter that has his “turf” to protect, and woe betide some arts women coming onto said turf. No doubt a pompous buffoon. But I found myself annoyed at Lynne over her suddenly feeling that she had gained a “bit of respect” because she had trashed an England soccer coach. Sorry Lynne, you just became everything you did not like just by accepting that “pat on the back” by one of your colleagues.
Recommended to any who want to read about the hypocrisy of journalists.
Oh! and to those that like a bit of writing about games people play.
A friend gave me a copy of David Ireland's The Flesheaters. A new author for me and he had an immediate effect, one that readers like, that “get you thinking” kind of effect. “Merry Lands” was the 1st heading and some bloke is talking to a dog, trying to get the dog to understand his name. Is it an asylum? I was just not sure.
Later “I make a living from poverty” says the bloke with the dog. And so we go headlong into the world of the unemployed and destitute, the mad, the insane and the outsider. I can honestly say that I do not relate to their world but it is the written world that they are part of and I find that world strangely enthralling. I read on and I came out the end thinking that the book may have been, in fact, about those suffering depression. Who knows? Who knew? Not I. But I liked it a hell of a lot even if I may not have understood it. The author delivered prose that sucked me in.
This was enough for me to delve further and with that I got an old and battered copy of this book, The Unknown Industrial Prisoner. Again there was an immediate effect. I found that I related to every character in the book as recognisable from my now 40 years of working life. I had worked with them all in one way or another. So with that recognition was I just another one of the many Unknown Industrial Prisoners? I think that after reading this book the answer might be yes.
The author tells the following. “Several drops of moisture fell on his upturned face as he took of his hat and looked with pride upward at the mighty structures. Rain? Probably a small leak not worth mentioning. He didn't see Far Away Places, two hundred feet above buttoning his fly. He had taken to peeing from above rather than have the Glass Canoe on his back.”
My story from a distant past.....
“The Backroom Boys decided that it was better to pee in an empty flagon than bother traipsing down to the other end of the building when nature called. Get one of the 1st year apprentice's to empty the contents at day's end the tradesman's had previously decided.
The Cop pulled up on his motorbike in the courtyard 3 levels below, as was usual each Thursday morning. Police Gazette galley proofs beckoned. Surfie was busy doing what all Backroom Prisoners did, glue bits of paper together. Surfie was bored. He looked down just in time to see The Cop pull up and begin to alight from his bike. Surfie then proceeded to tip the contents of the flagon over The Cop who looked up in time to feel several drops of moisture hit him from above and to just glimpse a disappearing head. The Cop hastened up the stairs to The Backroom, opened the door and asked with great annoyance as to who had poured the water over him. The Backroom Boys were heads down and bums up gluing bits of paper together. The Overseer looked up and said “don't worry about it mate ya just lucky no one pissed on ya.”
Later the author tells of an Italian who gets one of his fellow Industrial Prisoner to break his arm so that he can claim workers compo and look after his ailing wife. I recall the story doing the rounds when I was an apprentice of a bloke “dropping” a large letterpress forme on his knees, his wife also needing care. He pleaded for compo and got it. His wife got care.
The parallel of working as an apprentice in a large printing company back in the mid 1970's and David Irelands multinational corporation oil refinery is at times startling. Industrial Prisoners of all ilk, for that matter all nations, may have very similar stories as I related above.
The book itself consists of writing that is gritty, harsh, writing that has a close to the bone brutality and is also very masculine in style. It can also be very humorous. I laughed out loud several times. But we also get the softer philosophical views by some Industrial Prisoners and at times this can come as a surprise. As the reader I was battered by cynical, sarcastic, finger nails on a blackboard satire and irony page after page. Then out of nowhere would come beautiful prose that had an almost spiritual quality. Yes, a quality that was rare but there nonetheless. And that, for me, gives a very surprising and attractive dimension to this superb novel.
After all the observations of the gritty blue collar shenanigans I also think that there are recurring themes running throughout the book. Globalisation, Industrial Relations and also Work Place Health and Safety. After reading the last few pages a couple of times I might add there was also, I think, a theme of Belonging.
With the economy seemingly getting tighter the Prisoners are less inclined to have choice as to where to find other work if they really wish to leave the Prison. Shifts get longer, accidents happen. Prisoners claim compensation due to these “accidents happening” but the Prisoners never blame the longer working hours. With this the themes resonate.
Globalisation. I would suggest that with the decline in Australian manufacturing industries, at this present time of writing, there is relevance in this book for today's world. In fact this book could be written for the beginnings of the industrial age. A work house with indentured labour is not that far back in time. I was an indentured apprentice as late as the 1970's for example. Though we no longer have indentured manufacturing workers in countries such as Australia, manufacturing workers are seemingly under an increasing threat from globalisation, globalisation that is supported by multinational corporations. This tends to leave Prisoners thinking that their futures are in a state of limbo. In Australia we see the present closure of the auto manufacturing industries in Adelaide. Unemployment is already high and as I write another batch of the seemingly weekly redundancies are announced in that city. This is the effect of Globalisation as the Prisoners now compete with cheap 3rd world wages and/or technological changes.
Industrial Relations. The Prisoners belong to a Union but it matters not. The Union sign off changes to their conditions in agreement with the multinational corporation at the Prisoners expense. The Prisoners become more inclined to slack, to sabotage, to not give a care about anyone else, bar themselves. They become their ineffective Union and even their predatory employer. This may resonates for today's times for some. My generation had a sense of loyalty to a local employer and that employer had a similar sense back towards their employees. Nowadays one seems a mere number, Prisoners expect to have many multiple jobs in their working lives. In Japan was it Salarymen who spent a life working for the same company? Maybe we never went to that extreme in Australia and other western countries but it came close. Loyalty is now thrown out the door just as the multinational corporation throws Industrial Relations out the door and in collusion with the very organisation that should be there for the prisoners.
Work Place Health and Safety. A constant theme. The Prisoners notice that the corporation ignores their safety. There are industrial accidents and even deaths. It reaches a point of cynicism by all Prisoners. The results are a mix of sabotage and finally the cataclysmic. Even today, in the day and age of authorities supposedly caring about occupational health and safety, in the not too distant past Iron Bar stood in the federal parliament of Australia and berated the country to stop vilifying a great Australian Multinational Corporation that had to head off shore so as to not pay the victims of their asbestos poisoning. What a great name, Iron Bar. It could have come straight from a novel called The Unknown Industrial Prisoner. His plea could have come from a novel called The Unknown Industrial Prisoner.
Belonging. I am unable to explain this. Reading the final chapter and then rereading it, I began to think that I may have been missing the theme that the Prisoners themselves “belonged”. They were part of their surroundings, the land, the industrial complex, the very surroundings they found themselves in. Maybe that's the point of the book. Their acceptance of their place. The way they are part of the landscape. I may not be articulate enough to explain this feeling.
So who is the audience for this book? I suspect that the Phone Hackers print media would claim it would be one for the Chardonnay Sipping Inner City Academic Elites. They may be right. I suspect that the Chardonnay Sipping Inner City Academic Elites will discuss it's resonance with the masses on the Dehumanisation of the Working Class Man by the Plutocracy who sit in their ivory towers conducting the lives of the faceless Prisoners below. They may be right as well. I also suspect that this being a very masculine book it will have less appeal for the female reader. I may be wrong and hope I am. In the end though I think it will appeal to those that want to be challenged about how industrialism could viewed in the age of Globalisation. Yes this was written in a past that may not have used the word Globalisation in the modern sense but there does seem something prescient by the past that the book has portrayed.
I began to get the mid 1990's tune Political Prisoner by Insurge going through my head whenever I put this book down after reading. The song lyrics have a certain brutality that resonate with being an Unknown Industrial Prisoner.
“This song is for all the political prisoners, both here and around the world, for the people incarcerated for fraud, stealing, and larceny, and all other crimes involving property, for it's nothing but the state protecting the rich from the poor, ever since we lost our common ground, that's what the law's been for.......I see no criminals, I see before me political prisoners.”
A brutal protest song for a brutal protest book? Yeah!
Interesting reading. It is hard to actually rate a book such this though. There are long descriptions, page after page in fact, of the many places he travelled and they can make dry reading. The writing is not particularly PC by modern standards. Understandable considering the period in question but this can make for uncomfortable reading at times. He had slaves, for example, but then some might say who didn't in the early 1800's on the Arabian peninsular. Putting aside those issues there was many interesting descriptions of the peoples, places and events that must certainly be of use to modern scholars with an interest in the history of the Arabian peninsular.
I had read this many years back and recalled thinking it a very good Sci-Fi novel. I have no reason to change my original rating.
Interestingly I do not recall thinking too much about it as a complex book of religious, Roman Catholic at least, thought back then. It was just post apocalypse full stop. But after finishing I was reading about the author and his participating in the bombing of Monte Cassino in WW2. For a deeply thoughtful and religious man his telling of an apocalyptic tale makes a lot of sense considering the horrors that he was present at and witness to. Well worth a reread after all these years.
My anger knows no bounds as to an Australian high court decision on the quashing of a verdict that two lower courts had found on behalf of complaints against a high profile pedophile, a pedophile that has friends in extremely high places.
I was reminded of this book that I had read 15 years ago after I had spent a month on jury service and had been on 3 cases, one that involved rape and the other two pedophile. I can say it was a very draining experience that took a long time to recover from. I asked a lot of the whys and wherefores as to why this was such a harrowing experience and this book was one I read on the subject.
After the quashing of conviction by the high court I thought to myself “what is the point of the jury service if those found guilty can use their wealth and power to get as far as the high court that can then say that the jury got it wrong” Or as this item by the author of this book said that the high court had decided that the jury decision was “not rational”. So let me get this straight. Juries are not rational? Have these oh so learned people of the high court just decided that they are the only ones who can decide rationality?
https://www.smh.com.au/by/malcolm-knox-hvety
It is now an easy out to refuse to serve. The high stress level and then whats the point anyway? No doubt a rich and famous media organization can use its attack goons to make the victims (the real losers in all this) and the jurists irrelevant anyway.
This has been a truly disgraceful week and my anger knows no bounds.
One of those subjects the majority of us hide from in truth. On a personal level this book has clarified a recent decision that my family had to make. Thanks to this book I know we got that right. It has also made me realise that I am fast approaching an age I never gave much thought to. Now I am I just ain't enjoying these thoughts at all. Death is a statistic in all the history books I read, not the names of the authors daughters music teacher let alone his father nor, for that matter, anyone I know. Over the last few years this is all become too close to the bone for my liking. I think I am heading back to safer ground for a while and just might stick my head back in the sand.
My only complaint with this book was the author was inconsistent in use of Christian and surnames. Also non USA readers may notice some discussion on health care that may not be relevant in their neck of the woods though that will not detract from this very good book.
A must read for those that are confronted with some hard choices.
Dystopian books have a certain appeal. Dystopian films also appeal so when I watched Children of Men several years back I was impressed enough to think that I would one day read the book. I finally have.
Now this is not meant to be a “film is better than the book” review and vice versa. I, for example, love the Terrence Malick version of the very good book by James Jones The Thin Red Line. What I liked about that film was that Malick took an idea and made it into something other. The same can be said for The Children of Men as well. Alfonso Cuaron took an idea and headed into very topical issues such as refugees. It worked.
The book alas has left me cold. It is slow, it plods and it just seems out of date. Of its time maybe? Even that question worries me. Now I am happy to be corrected here but being written in 1992 surely the author would be aware of a few of the more “modern” communication methods such the internet and mobile phones for example. Even such technology such as infra-red / heat seeking devices were around then. Nope we get none of that. We get a Britain written about as if it is the 1950's as opposed to the 2020's that is the era we are supposed to be reading about. On the other hand we get mention of drugs that can cure Alzheimer's. In the book people have drugs to control a horrendous disease but there is no communication such as the WWW?
I suppose that maybe the author wanted it to seem slow, after all this was a world that was made up old people. If so it did not work for me. If this had been written in the 50's by say John Wyndham I would be more forgiving but it was written in the information age. The author missed this sadly. Very disappointing.
Another fine book from the indomitable Francis Pryor and, as always easy, to read. Pryor writes a rather compelling book that puts the “Anglo-Saxon” invasion of England firmly in the realms of being overwrought. He makes the point that there had to be some movement of peoples of Angles and Saxon origin into England and no doubt plenty of contact across the seas but why would, when the Roman authorities departed, there be a wholesale invasion by said peoples when the archaeological evidence is tenuous and the historical evidence light on and full of holes. Where, indeed, did the ancient population go when there is no evidence that they went anywhere?
This is a exceptional book but it is not an easy read and with that I recommend it to only those with a genuine interest in the subject. Unless one can relate to the author and her families predicament then they will subject themselves to pages of family related trauma, trauma that not all will want to read about or imagine.
What the author has offered is a view into a world that some will never relate to and with any luck never have to. My mum was recently placed in care, though my family were never full time carers we had a long road to travel to get her from her being alone in the family home to the assisted living that she needed. Many of the issues raised in this book were incredibly close to the bone and I found myself reading deep into the evening as I related to event after event that the author so articulately expressed with her sharp eye and ear and her deep sense of frustration. The author was also aware of the depth of power her family story may have had on the reader, so by interspersing the narrative with medical discussion through to philosophical debate she was able to give the reader an almost welcome break from the drama of the utter sadness of the story. This was constantly thought provoking and useful to the likes of me, someone who likes to have a some modicum of understanding as to life's personal and challenging events.
I see that this book has won both the Orwell Prize and the Wellcome Trust Book Prize. If this is indicative of the quality of the books that have won or even been nominated for these awards then these award winners must be of the highest quality in their fields.
Not only highly recommended to those with an interest in this subject but an absolute must.
The kind of sports reading (and music for that matter) that I love. The book about the “everyman” with, truth to be told, not much talent but just has to have a go.
Justin Irwin has written a marvellous story of a CEO giving it all away to play darts for a year with the goal to make the world champs. The book delves into lots of details of what sounded like a fun year, but nonetheless a year that had Justin learning a lot about himself. He gets misquoted by the press. He then has the professionals getting annoyed at what seems his dismissal of their ability.
But he practises hard, plays a lot and learns to drink. Darts, it is that type of sport. It is also competitive and humiliating at all its levels. But as Justin rightly explains, it is in the end a very egalitarian sport. What other sport can offer the duffer the opportunity to play in tournaments with the world-class?
Recommended to those who like to dream.