Jeffery Harvey
I read Parts I and III of this text for a Leadership in Context course. Gardner's notion that leaders remember they are dealing with the eight-year-old mind is spot-on. Gardner has a tendency to drill the point home throughout the text, but that should not take away from the poignancy of the initial idea.
The chapters on Ghandi and Monet were interesting overviews of the men as leaders. In my case, having known nothing of Monet and shamefully little on Ghandi, these chapters were enriching reads.
Prior to reading a word in this text, it was described to me as “dense”. What a perfect description! As the primary text for the starting course of a doctoral program, the text was overwhelming at first. At no point in time did this become a fun read and, even though I had to force myself through it, once finished, it is a go-to reference for an introduction to many leadership theories.
Written as a sort of anthology of leadership studies, the book is divided into independently-written chapters on the state of leadership studies. Most chapters are actually short essays on a particular style of leadership, presenting its genesis in scholarship as well as current directions in its research. There are other chapters that talk about leadership as a scholastic discipline and set it against a backdrop of business administration, psychology, and organizational studies. The authors of each chapter were skillfully chosen by the editors at SAGE, for when you dig into contemporary research on your own, you will find that the authors are key players in the actual research.
Though not for the faint of heart, The SAGE Handbook of Leadership is an excellent overview of leadership studies, leadership theories, and a handy resource to have at one's disposal.
Assigned as pre-reading at the start of a doctoral program, this book provides a solid overview to reading not only research, but scholarly writing in general. The book is well-written and easy to read, breaking down an unnecessarily difficult process into manageable chunks. For anyone not accustomed to reading research and other scholarly writing, I would highly recommend it.
Exploring Leadership: Individual, Organizational, and Societal Perspectives
Exploring Leadership: Individual, Organizational & Societal Perspectives is an excellent overview of the state of leadership research and its role in scholarship, business and organizations, etc. I read this text approximately four years after the completion of my masters degree in strategic leadership and just prior to the start of my doctoral studies in executive leadership.
This text is not written like a traditional textbook, though it does present the research behind the factual information discussed. It is written as more a non-fiction essay about leadership. Its accessibility is its strength.
For anyone interested in brushing up on their leadership studies knowledge (or for those who are looking to build a little leadership studies knowledge), this text is a good start.
The Formation of Scholars: Rethinking Doctoral Education for the Twenty-First Century
As I begin my own journey into doctoral education, this was a very interesting read about the current state of doctoral education. Organized around Carnegie Mellon University's Carnegie Initiative on the Doctorate (CID), the author puts forth the CID's thoughts on the evolution of how doctoral coursework and the dissertation are presented. How much time do doctoral programs spend talking about their purpose? What is the purpose of doctoral education?
Written as a pseudo-textbook, it presents data and findings from a series of workshops facilitated by the CID. Program experimentation with such things as portfolios, cross-departmental research, etc. are all presented and ultimately advocated for pushing the doctorate into the future.
I appreciate the notion that the doctorate is not just for those wanting to perform research in academe. While that is a worthy pursuit, the benefits of PhD holders in private industry are numerous. Together with PhDs in higher education, these individuals can truly push the boundaries of what it means to be a scholar.
What a pleasant surprise from a free Kindle Buffet book!
One Lane Bridge, written by Don Reid of the country-music artist The Statler Brothers, tells the story of J.D. Wickman and a series of mystical moments that both change his life and remind him that we are all part of a much bigger whole. One evening, while taking a drive to de-stress, Wickman crosses a one-lane bridge and has a little car trouble. He stops and gets help from a poor family and, after they help him get back on the road, decides he wants to pay it forward by taking them some groceries the next day. Only they aren't there. The bridge, the house, the family...all gone. Through a series of remarkable twists and turns, J.D. finds out that he is somehow transported back to 1942 and he spends the remainder of the novel trying to discover why.
Taken from a literary angle, One Lane Bridge is a well-told story. Reid's characters are believable and he does a great job of making his reader feel empathy toward them. Reid weaves themes of family and duty into the narrative. Though initially off-putting for me as a reader, Reid does a skillful job of making one feel Wickman's frustration with his family and friends (while no one believes his story about the bridge and they subsequently try to get him medical and psychological help). The novel does a good job of being contemporary without being overly nostalgic or folksy.
Consider Morrison redeemed in my book.
Disclaimers: I am a fan of the bat. A very good friend of mine is a fan of Grant Morrison. This friend gave me a copy of Batman and Son for my birthday in 2013. Batman: The Black Glove nearly turned me off of the Morrison Batman run.
Now that all of that is out of the way, allow me to connect the dots. When I started to get into comics, I turned to my friend Lloyd (who has loved comics for as long as I've known him) for a little guidance. We decided to read a couple of titles together and talk about them (because we're both literary nerds) and I asked for suggestions on the Batman series. Lloyd spoke highly of Grant Morrison and his run with the character and, as noted, gifted me a copy of Batman and Son, which I really enjoyed. As such, I went on to pick up a copy of Batman: The Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul and ultimately Batman: The Black Glove. The “resurrection” book was terrific and I was very much looking forward to “glove”. As I've come to realize, however, I like my Batman as largely a solo artist, and the first half of the “glove” is anything but that. The overly comical nature of the sidekicks and partners in “glove” - while well-written - left me wanting.So...not wanting to bale without giving Morrison's run a thorough chance, I moved on to Batman R.I.P.. I'm glad I did. RIP takes the themes that were initially developed at the end of “glove” and makes them highly entertaining. We all know (even if it is deep down), that Bruce Wayne is a little psychotic (or how else would he be the Batman?) and RIP puts the reader a little closer to that reality. I loved the way Morrison explored the notions of madness. Who is the true madman? Is it the Joker, who is depicted with a renewed “sinister-ness” who admits to only toying with people to see what they'll do? Or is it the Batman, who will subject himself to near-death conditions just to try to understand his foe? Perhaps the heroes need to be just as crazy as the villains.Bruce Wayne/Batman is the ultimate tragic figure. His is a life of great loss and that loss continues in RIP. His latest love interest turns out to just be playing him. (I should admit, though, that I thought the character of Jezebel Jet could have been better developed in “glove” and RIP.) By ridding Gotham of its super villains, Bruce robs himself of the ability to sustain meaningful relationships (with anyone other than Alfred). Bruce is, in effect, in a relationship with Gotham City and it's destined to fail miserably.So it's on to the next in Morrison's run with a vigor that didn't exist after “glove”. For that - and for the love of the bat - I am grateful.
I picked up The Brass Verdict after reading Connelly's The Lincoln Lawyer (which, I must admit, I picked up after re-watching the movie on cable). I enjoyed Connelly's writing and the Mickey Haller character quite a bit in the first novel and I wanted to see where Connelly took the character.
The Brass Verdict tells the story of Haller, after taking some time off, picking up the cases of a slain lawyer friend, including a very high-profile murder case involving a Hollywood producer. On the whole, this novel was another victory for Connelly and the Haller character, though I must admit that I felt it got a little wayward between the 1/3 and halfway point. Once this story picked up, though, it raced to the finish in compelling (though not overly surprising) ways.
Connelly picks up the theme of family from The Lincoln Lawyer, only this time, the focus is on Haller as a child (rather than his relationship with his daughter). The interplay between Haller and Bosch is amusing, but only becomes truly interesting at the end of the novel upon the reveal of the book's only real surprising twist - Haller and Bosch are half-brothers. Upon this realization, recasting the characters as foils to one another - two sides of the same coin - adds a level of depth to the novel that I wish I would have known early on. (I will admit, though, that uncovering this truth early on would have been a detriment to the narrative.)
I continue to enjoy Connelly's writing. After starting The Brass Verdict, I found an interview with Connelly in Esquire magazine where he talked about his inspiration and how he came to be so familiar with the legal process and legal systems (where he simply “observed” the process as an outsider and, I believe, a journalist). Connelly must have been quite the observer, because I find his presentation of the court system and due process to be authentic and accessible.
Though I did not find The Brass Verdict to be as “good” as The Lincoln Lawyer, I'll most definitely pick up the next in the Mickey Haller series.
I've wanted to read this one for quite a while and it didn't disappoint.
First things first. I love the noirish take on the Batman mythology. It grounds Bruce Wayne's back story; gives validity to the killing of his parents. Also, it gives a basis for the rising of the super villains. One of the things that I prefer about Batman over other super heroes is that he is a real person - rich, yes, but not anointed with super powers. The gritty, dark, organized crime-ridden version of Gotham does the same thing to Batman's villainous foils as well. We see how those with a particularly narcissistic bent can grow out of a world where crime is rampant, the police force is corrupt, and villains and crime bosses are looked at as the heroes. The Long Halloween embraces this view of Gotham and Batman and expands on it with skillful precision.
Here's another thing that I appreciate about this graphic novel. Since, as I've noted, Batman is one guy with a lot of gadgets yet no superpowers, he needs the police to help put away the criminals he out-duels. Batman carries no more authority than any other citizen, so it is in his best interest to see a clean police force so that his job - cleaning up the streets - ultimately comes to an end. In this sense, Batman fights two forms of evil - overt criminals and villains who commit heinous crimes and a more subvert corruption that erodes away the goodness that does exist. While Gotham's populace wants to see the villains put away, Batman knows that this erosion is the real evil that will bring the city down.
The Long Halloween follows Batman, Gordon, and Harvey Dent as they investigate “Holiday”, a new serial killer on the loose who only kills on holidays. The twist - the killer primarily kills the mob and is systematically ridding Gotham of Carmine Falcone's and Salvatore Maroni's henchmen. Batman, Gordon, and Dent know that Holiday has to be caught and brought to justice and Jeph Loeb does an admirable job at presenting their ethical struggles as they almost appreciate the decline of the mob at the hands of Holiday. Loeb also integrates a number of Batman's traditional foes - Joker, Poison Ivy, Riddler, Catwoman - and their frustrations with Holiday and the headlines he grabs. These villains are employed by the mob to seemingly aid the mob and take care of Holiday and it is interesting to see them fail in doing so.
Tim Sale's art is on point with the theme of the novel. I particularly like the contrast in black/white and color. All-in-all, it adds to the dark theme and reinforces Gotham as a place in need of saving.
I would be remiss in not discussing the theme of family employed throughout. As with any real location, the families of the good and evil are inevitably intertwined, as were the Waynes and Falcones. There is the constant infighting within the Falcone family - as well as the Falcone crime “Family”. There is the competition between the Falcone and Maroni families. Loeb does a skillful job of characterizing Bruce's own struggles in dealing with his family's legacy and his own calling. Dent and Gilda wish to start a family and it is circumvented. Gordon makes his peace with Gotham and seems more comfortable in keeping his family there. Throughout, Loeb reminds us what is important and he stakes Batman as the head of a trio of heroes committed to protecting the family's importance.
In truth, I was not as enamored with Year One nearly as much as The Long Halloween. While some may be turned off as to the length of The Long Halloween, I feel the length gives the author enough time to explore the story and make it feel authentic.
Finally, I fully realize the connection of this graphic novel to the Batman trilogy of movies made by Christopher Nolan. In fact, the edition of the novel I own has a brief forward by Nolan. While I will freely admit that I loved Nolan's movies, I cannot say that this novel is inherently better or worse than the movies. In fact, the novel makes me like the trilogy of movies better. Nolan did a terrific job of using Year One and The Long Halloween as influences and created his own story of the Batman mythology. Pretty cool stuff.
I will fully admit that I picked this book up on account of the movie of the same name. I'm always nervous about doing so since movies rarely live up to novels, but I'm glad I did in this case.
Connelly's The Lincoln Lawyer is a solid read. Well written and well paced, Connelly did an excellent job of throwing just enough legalese into the narrative to make it authentic, yet not so much as to make it inaccessible. Is this Pulitzer worthy? In my opinion, no. Is it a piece of great literature? Again, in my opinion, no. I do, however, look forward to reading more books by Michael Connelly.
The Lincoln Lawyer introduces us to Mickey Haller, a defense attorney working the L.A. area. Some might consider him shady, but he's just a guy making a living, always looking for his “franchise client”. And he thinks he's got one - Louis Ross Roulet. But being a franchisee isn't as easy or great as it may seem. Roulet proves to be quite the successful killer and equally skilled at covering his tracks. Filled with manipulation and one-upsmanship, Haller's tale keeps the reader on his/her toes. One has to pay attention to keep up, but this novel does not fall into the trap of pitching twists for twists' sake. The revelations feel natural and, at times, catch the characters off guard. Their ability to react drives the narrative.
Connelly explores a number of themes here. Of course, we see the sleazy defense attorney stumble onto a conscience. Haller's principle conflict is whether he'll recognize innocence. When it dawns on him that he once missed it, his senses sharpen as Haller more clearly sees evil. Family is another theme that gets its fair share. Haller's love for his ex-wife and daughter create a modern-day, non-traditional family that endures as much as any relationship in the novel. Loyalty is the other prominent theme, as we see it in Haller and Levin's friendship, Haller's repeat clients in the Road Saints (as well as his trust in them), etc.
As usual, the book outshines the movie, though both are well done. Connelly gets a lot of billing as a “man's author” in magazines such as Esquire. Maybe so. I sure enjoyed his writing.
To date, I have really enjoyed going back and reading Grant Morrison's run on Batman. Batman and Son and The Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul were terrific reads. The insert of The Clown at Midnight was the perfect prose insert to a graphic novel. But The Black Glove was difficult for me.
I tend to like the solo Batman, the one that gets deep into his detective work. While I realize that Robin and a number of other sidekicks are (and have been) central to the story line through the years, those characters don't resonate nearly as well with me as Bruce Wayne/Batman, Alred, and Commissioner Gordon. So when I begin this graphic novel with Damian/Robin traveling to some island to meet a band of superhero buddies of Batman's....a tough sell nonetheless.
The tough sell continued throughout all of the first half of Batman: The Black Glove. It wasn't until we got off of the island and starting delving a little into Batman's psyche that this one turned around a bit. I have enjoyed Morrison's writing on Batman enough that I'll look forward to the next edition of his arc, but Batman: The Black Glove makes me do so with trepidation.
Although I must admit I was not as much a fan of this graphic novel as I was Batman, Vol. 1: The Court of Owls, this one still drew me in and kept me hooked. I have come to be a fan of Scott Snyder's writing. He has kept it up throughout this arc as well as into the Zero Year arc.
My favorite chapter of this particular graphic novel was the one that centered on Alred's father. It was very nice to see a step away from the main story that simultaneously supported the main story and provided insight on Alfred, one of the most under-used characters in the Batman ethos. I also admired Snyder's skilled inclusion of Court of Owls mythology in so many of the Batman stories that we have heard before. So many keys that made Bruce Wayne into the Batman have their roots in the Court of Owls? Well done.
Whereas Batman, Vol. 1: The Court of Owls read more like a piece of fiction versus a true comic, The City of Owls moved the story back into the comic realm. This shift was not a detriment, but it provided a different feel for the arc. Gone were the explorations of many themes; in was the non-stop action element. With the exception of the notion that Lincoln March was in fact Bruce Wayne's brother, gone was the thought-provoking social commentary.
Long-time Batman fans should enjoy this arc as would those new to the Batman story. Kudos to Scott Snyder for a clever re-imagining of a well-known tale.
The Court of Owls was, easily, one of the best Batman graphic novels I have ever read, right up there with Miller's Year One and Moore's The Killing Joke. (Disclaimer: While I'm making rapid headway through the great ones, I have not read every - or even a lot - of the Batman graphic novels out there.) Equal parts suspense thriller and comic sci-fi, literary achievement and accessible story, Scott Snyder keeps it authentic for comic fans and deepens the Batman ethos through insinuation, metaphor, sociological reference, and light psychology.
The notion of the Court of Owls hiding in the “false” thirteenth floors of Wayne-built buildings - that is to say, hiding in the populace's fear and superstition - terrific. The apparent architectural authenticity backing up the thirteenth floor legend in Wayne buildings felt factual and pushed the narrative in a surprising way. Batman's Gotham has always been a caricature of our own society's fears, failures, and achievements. The idea that a secretive Court of Owls that watches over the city and upholds its own style of justice plays right into our own fears of Big Brother - an example of Snyder's subtle way to grab the buy-in, the emotional connection from the reader so necessary to making a great story.
Using a court of owls - natural predators of bats - as a rival of the Wayne family was another of Snyder's solid decisions. While it is true that the Wayne family's contributions to Gotham's charities, skyline, etc. have certainly not been “nocturnal”, the court of owls appeared to be one step ahead of the family in knowing that its ultimate greatest contribution to Gotham - the Batman - would be. The court knows the Wayne family better than the family knows itself.
In what I have read regarding DC's “The New 52”, reviews are mixed. To a certain extent, I agree. But the launch of The New 52 gave this particular Batman title a chance to reset and Snyder appears to have taken full advantage of that opportunity. It is with anticipation that I begin Batman, Vol. 2: The City of Owls.
My reading into the evolution of the Batman character continues...
...Next up, Frank Miller's Batman: Year One, noted by many as one of the top three Batman stories ever told. Batman: Year One tells the story of how Bruce Wayne becomes Batman and how his and Gordon's relationship begins. The novel is structured chronologically, at times going day-by-day and at others skipping several months in a single panel. Typically, in Batman comics, the Bruce/Batman character is the conflicted one; however, in this novel, Gordon bore the conflicted burden, having much difficulty in transitioning into his role as a lieutenant with the Gotham PD. Gordon was insecure as well as arrogant. Forward as well as guilt-ridden. His status as “hero cop” proved to be a grind that he ultimately knew he could not sustain - enter Batman. Such character development was a real high-point in this novel.
Bruce/Batman were nearly secondary characters to this story. While there was some commentary in first person from them, their characters were almost wholly developed through the eyes of others. The break from Batman as the brooding, introverted super hero was another high-point in the novel.
Since this novel gives us insight as to the early days of Batman, it shows us the Batman finding his way in Gotham: how he came to the decision to use a bat disguise, his training, his early attempts at crime fighting. This Batman was careful. He was insecure. His decision-making was dull. He showed weakness, which made him more human than ever.
Mazzucchelli's art, in my opinion, was perfect for this particular Batman novel. The panels read very “noir-ish” and the art captured that. The Batman character was revealed in shades, from afar, and the art supported that. Richmond Lewis' colors were subtle, understated, and beautifully dreary. In a world that was populated by characters with deep insecurities and never-ending personal conflicts, bright and contrasting colors would have been out of place.
In truth, the story, art, themes, and general idea of this novel were all excellent; the weakness for this reader proved to be the actual narrative. As someone still new to the genre, I had been familiar with the Frank Miller name and was looking forward to reading his work. I mean no disrespect with this review nor to say that the writing was bad or sub-par; the writing was simply not the strongest element of the novel.
This edition of the graphic novel contained notes on and images depicting Mazzucchelli's original inks for many of the panels. Cool stuff. There is even one section in which the process of Lewis' coloring is described. Lewis actually colored many of the panels without the inks. Awesome. The ways in which the inks and colors intertwined to create soft edges, blurred lines in places - perfect for a novel explaining how the Batman came into focus. Also, for a self-proclaimed comic/graphic novel novice, these “development of” pages were quite enjoyable!
Batman: Year One is an excellent read for the budding Batman aficionado.
I'm Not Dead, Am I?: A Paranormal Family Living in Rural New YorkFirst off, this was an enjoyable read. Berardi does a nice job of presenting both the seriousness of the health situation as well as the humor (that we can all see well after we live through our own traumatic events). She presents her family at a vulnerable time yet does not paint them as whiny or victimized, righteous or superior. They are a family, with all its beauties and blemishes.The paranormal element of this book was actually quite minimal. In today's ghost-crazed world (disclaimer, which is why I selected the book from the Buffet), my guess would have been multiple encounters with multiple deceased individuals, some famous, some family, some average Joes and the memoir to overtly claim divine, spiritual intervention in the healing of the mother character. Fortunately, the spirits that do appear in the novel are more of the comforting type that try to help the family get through the crisis. To my recollection, the claim that a spirit “healed” the mother character is not made once.Berardi's writing style is not colloquial, but quite conversational. The entire book reads like something the author would tell the reader over coffee. There are even a number of tangents in the book that follow the author's train of thought. While I found these jarring (e.g., biting political commentary in the middle of a touching chapter about the mother's transition to a nursing home to complete her recovery), they were brief enough so as not to completely disrupt the flow of the narrative. In truth, such ebb and flow may have been intentional given the book as a memoir.The second half of the book seemed to me to be more about the Nicole character (the daughter that is the medium) than the mother's health crisis. This point in the narrative related how and to whom Nicole gives readings and gives a number of stories about people to whom she's read and spirits that she has encountered. While interesting and, in some cases, touching, I found this shift in the narrative to be more troublesome than the frequent asides. The first and second halves of the book felt like (and perhaps should have been) two separate books. I can say that I would read both.In short, this book did not turn me off of the Kindle Buffet app. Though I am not typically a fan of memoirs, this one was a pleasant read and one I would recommend for someone looking for a light, weekend-morning book.
My second foray into Batman as a father.
The Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul addresses Ra's' attempts to re-animate to continue his work with the League of Shadows. The first prelude chapter was amazing as it described the process by which Ra's is brought back to life: in my opinion, the strongest chapter in the entire graphic novel. We're also given more insight into Damian as Batman's son. His cockiness is still there, but it is now masked in the form of adolescence. Damian continues to want to get to know Bruce/Batman, but there is still something more to the character, more of a sinister intention that is hovering under the surface.
The novel also introduces new characters (new to me, that is) I-Ching and Sensei. I-Ching is a character with a lot of untapped potential. I like how he just shows up at opportune moments. I also enjoyed seeing Talia al Ghul more involved in the story. She's another character with significant potential.
This particular book, though noted as “by Grant Morrison”, is actually written by four different authors. Though generally cohesive, the constant switching in authors was much more jarring to me than chapter-by-chapter changes in illustrators and colorists.
The spin on the theme of family is good stuff. We've always had the family theme with Batman stories given what happened to Bruce's parents, but that angle had to do with how does one rebuild the concept of family. This particular book assumes that it's been built and now asks how it should be kept together. What does it mean to be a family? Is it blood relation? Common goals? Friendship? There are no answers given, but the path taken toward the answers...there's the depth.
Batman and Son was my first foray into the writing of Grant Morrison, either on Batman or anything else. This paperback was given to me as a birthday present from a very dear friend, a Batman aficionado who not only shares my interest in the Dark Knight, but also has refined it to such a level that he has become my mentor in all things Gotham (and comics in general, to be quite honest).
First and foremost, I loved the book (as can be seen by the 5-star rating). It did, though, take some time to catch up to the flow of Morrison's writing. I am not sure if this was a function of the writing itself, or more to my growing knowledge of the graphic novel. I am still a bit of a newbie to the genre. After realizing the need to infer parts of the narrative through the art as well as “common sense”, the story unfolded for me quite naturally and proved to be very exciting, even as an obvious set-up for more on each of the characters.
In terms of characters, Talia remains mysterious, which is as it should be. Damian, Batman's son, is as socially maladjusted as any character I've encountered, which I am sure is by design. The Bethlehem chapter - which I think is Damian filling the Batman role - is (if I am correct) a disturbing look into what Damian's objectives may be.
Themes throughout the book show Batman/Bruce Wayne's sense of duty, but also his capability for love and connection. Most depictions show Bruce as a playboy, only really feeling love for Alfred and his parents. It is nice to see the seeds of a deeper connection for both Bruce and Batman. For Batman, the journeys may become about more than redemption, revenge, and protecting the innocent (just for the sake of it). In a vacuum, with a son with altruistic intentions, how would the Dark Knight reconcile (or re-think) his actions knowing the potential ramifications on a protege? With Damian's seemingly questionable objectives...who knows?
The book's art is more than adequate to convey the story. I have grown to expect the very dark look and feel of the Batman story, so at times, the art in Batman and Son felt more to me like traditional cartoon-y comic art versus the darker, more angular version. It was certainly not to the point of distraction. Perhaps a subtle change in the art as the story evolves (e.g., a little darker art when Damian's plans are hatched with brighter art as his relationship with Bruce/Batman grows) would be helpful. But...I fully admit that I am not in a position to make such a comic on a graphic novel...I have so much more to learn!
Batman and Son most certainly lived up to my expectations and didn't disappoint. I look forward to continuing the story with The Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul.
Thomas Hoover's The Zen Experience is a solid introduction to Zen as a spiritual practice. Candidly, it was much more history than I expected. The book focuses solely on Zen's beginnings and its evolution through China and into Japan. There is no discussion of the practice of Zen. As such, I am glad I have it as a resource for a baseline as I choose other selections on Zen.
My second foray into the world of graphic novels. As with the first paperback, I enjoyed this one. I must admit, though, that I felt it slipped slightly from the first one. The story lines evolved, but it seemed like a re-imagining of the same line - man meets Josephine, man falls in love with Josephine, man learns there is more than meets the eye with Josephine, man dies (or nearly dies) for Josephine.
As with the first collection, I still enjoy the flexibility with which the narrative can be read. There are multiple levels to the narrative, there are good stories, and the reader can handle which ever level he/she wants. Love that...the mark of a well-written piece - graphic novel or otherwise.
I have it on good authority that issue #11 presents a twist in the narrative, which I welcome and to which I look forward!
I had been wanting to read The Devil All the Time for quite some time. Fortunately, I wasn't disappointed.
Further, this was the first Donald Ray Pollock that I had read. His sensibilities about areas with which I am familiar (i.e., southern West Virginia as well as Appalachian Ohio) were acute and engaging. I understood that he had contacted the historical society in Greenbrier County, West Virginia in an effort to get those portions of the novel right, and I appreciated that.
For a first novel, it was an excellent effort. Generally, I enjoyed the storytelling, the pace, the imagery, etc. Generally, I think Pollock succeeded in presenting a grittier side of life without making a caricature of it. Pollock's own heritage in these economically depressed areas informs a realistic yet romantic depiction of the people that live in them.
Pollock successfully integrated a number of themes throughout the novel: moderation vs. excess; the haves vs. the have nots; grin and bear it. Two of these, in particular, stood out to me: “grin and bear it, work a little harder” and “have vs. have not”.
I was struck by the general moods displayed by characters throughout the novel. First, there was the ultra-religious group - the type of character that exemplifies the start of the Baby Boomer generation: religion, hierarchical family structure, etc. - and second, on the other end of the spectrum, the dirty, gritty, evil-leaning group. In between, there are characters like Willard Russell and Sheriff Lee Bodecker who exemplify both. All characters seem to think that when things go wrong, just grin and bear it...do what you're doing a little more or a little harder and “it” will get better. Willard's incessant efforts to pray Charlotte back to health were the primary examples of this theme.
Moderation vs. excess was explored again and again. Pollock included the almost cliche notion that a simple life is richer than a wealthy life, but he spun it in a way that we don't often see in literature. The Russell clan had very little, but rather than having a fulfilling life, Pollock wrote about how hard they had to work just to get by. There was no transcendent spirituality experienced by any of the Russells; they did not find any meaning in life. They simply worked hard and....nothing. Just hard work. Further, within this theme, Pollock explored the various definitions of “having” something. The Carl and Sandy characters had nothing until they took their “vacations”, in which case they still had nothing, but found thrills in photographing and killing “models” along the road. Once Arvin moved to West Virginia, he still had very little but he became a fierce defender of what he did have (e.g., protecting his “sister” Lenora). While Carl and Sandy made their own “something”, Arvin best played the hand he was dealt.
Some of the characters in the novel were born to be buried. Lenora, for example, was a tragedy from day one, her life shrouded in death from a very young age with the death of her mother. Her character also represented the death of the goodness of religion in the novel. Even though a number of characters questioned (and even exploited) religion, Lenora's suicide represented the end of the last best hope for the story's faith. Arvin was also on a course toward a fall (and follow the example of this father). With his first kill (i.e., Teagardin), he was destined to kill others. (Pollock's depiction of Arvin's moral indecision regarding the murder of Teagardin was excellent; the reader could honestly think Arvin would decide against it up until the shot was fired.) Arvin still had hope when killing and escaping Bodecker, but the novel ends with a realization that Arvin had a hard road ahead of him. Finally, even the characters represented as wholly “good” - Emma, Charlotte - were worn down to nothing (Charlotte in a literal sense as she died of cancer and Emma through losing her entire family) by the end of the novel. All characters started with something and ended with nothing.
This was a book that triggered a number of mind-races. I could go on an on and on in this review...but I won't. Suffice to say, this is a book worth reading. I look forward to reading his short story collection Knockemstiff (which actually pre-dated The Devil All the Time.
I have finally gotten the opportunity to finish Larsson's second installment of the Millenium Trilogy, two or so years after reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. In terms of writing a review, I am as perplexed as to what to say, just as I was after the first book. I give it four stars because though I didn't feel the Earth shake upon completion, at the end, I had forgotten about all of the negative opinions I had formed during the first section and a half of the book and found myself gratified at how it played out.
While I was non-committal as to my assessment of Larsson's writing style in my previous review, I am now solidly in the camp that enjoys his narrative abilities. I am convinced that, had he lived, he would be to the police detective/investigation/espionage genre what John Grisham is to “legal fiction”. Larsson is skilled at weaving a complex narrative, creating and integrating a wide range of characters, and has an interesting way of revealing details very early in a narrative only to NOT ruin the inevitable final revelation of those details in the end. For example, you could suspect very early on that Niedermann was the killer, but his relationship with Zala, his relationship to Salander, etc. was paced nicely (and intuitively).
My review would be incomplete if I did not comment on the Salander character. Two very close friends of mine, whose literary opinions I respect very much, love her character. I find her (simultaneously) maddeningly under-developed and over-developed. (Though I will admit that her character came into focus as this novel wore on.) Her mystique was justified in “Dragon Tattoo” and I had no problem with the peripheral details of her life and why she was the way she was. She was an accessory to the main plot and provided a nice change of pace in the form of a sub-plot, just as the Blomkvist character did. I just don't feel that she can be the central character of a piece of fiction without portions of the work delving into the overly cliche. Whereas Larsson is skilled at withholding details as to the central “case” of his novels, I find his attempts to do so with a character frustrating and, at times, jarring. Just about the time we start to sketch a picture of Lisbeth, we are given something else that shatters that image. With some characters this isn't a bad thing; but in the case of Lisbeth, there's little consistency with the other aspects that we've learned. For instance, I found her points of vanity (e.g., the cosmetic surgery, the details of her relationship with George Bland, the furnishing of her apartment, etc.) in “Played with Fire” too far removed from what we had learned in “Dragon Tattoo”. Vulnerability I would have welcomed; vanity was too far in the direction of “she's really just like any other girl”. I will admit that I have no knowledge of the mental condition with which she is most closely associated (Aspergers), which may push me toward such a conclusion.
Larsson obviously asserts his themes of injustice and morality through Lisbeth, but the injustices dealt to her border on the edge of any realistic plausibility. Portions of her character feel like a writing exercise - i.e., how many bad things can we make happen to this girl? She was abused and that had led to a number of failed and abusive relationships as she grew older - I can appreciate such details. Her abuse and subsequent actions keep her on the radar of a number of law enforcement agencies - plausible, but questionable. She is secretly watched as a central figure in national security and part of a supreme cover up? Not sure about that one...
Consequently, my disconnect with the Salander character made the first 300 or so pages of this book extremely difficult for me. Much like other reviews that I have read, I found myself wondering when we were going to launch toward the central mystery of the book. Upon launch, I couldn't put the book down. Further, I enjoyed the minor themes of power, considering alternate definitions of success as well as love, and revenge and found them suitable additions to the narrative.
I look forward to reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest and have a copy of it on my shelf, but I will take a much-needed step away from the seemingly unending crime drama of Sweden.
Pretty good read on servant leadership.
Based on Robert Greenleaf's servant leader concept, this text refers to a number of other management and leadership books to exemplify the basic good of giving oneself to one's team. Smith does a good job of highlighting the tough aspects of being a leader, hence the title of the book. For me personally, some chapters served as a stark reminder of what I need to be doing in my own leadership role.
There were times, though, when this book fell into the same trap as many other leadership and management texts: it can be contradictory to itself. Good leadership and management is so situational that it is tough to avoid this trap. Further, there were a number of grammatical errors that distract a reader like myself. I am certainly not perfect with grammar, but an overuse of contractions and words like “ain't” got in the way of my enjoyment of some chapters.
All-in-all, this is a solid, quick read for the aspiring leader and a suitable refresher for the seasoned leader.
Well, got through a book that I decided to read based on a movie. I actually thought that the movie was a fair representation of the book. The one point from the film on which I wanted clarity was completely avoided in the novel, much to my surprise.
I had also hoped to find another contemporary author whose books I could enjoy by default. I'm not sure that Lehane got there, but I enjoyed the writing style enough to want to pick another of his novels.
No real review on this one. Anyone can watch the film and get the story. Unlike a number of other books made into movies, you wouldn't get missing a lot. Lehane's writing is incredible in some places (reference my comment about the description of a migraine from an earlier update). That, alone, made it an enjoyable read.