last Sunday was Crissy’s birthday, and after e had lunch with my parents we hooked up with some good friends and ended up wandering around Southwell and having a look around the cathedral. Disconcertingly, everyone noticed the books for sale at the back end of the building before I did.
Unsurprisingly the books on offer all had a religious theme and most were of little interest to me, but I did manage to find a few books that tickled my fancy. The technical side, so to speak, of faith really interests me, the arguments for and against, and three of those books fit the bill.
The fourth book has a wonderful title Modern Art and the Death of Culture, and of course its all doom and gloom hating on modern art whilst talking about the Christian way being the way forward as a potential to reverse the trend. I think the premise is interesting and it sits forlornly on my work desk begging to be read as I go about my daytime work. Continue reading “Wholly Consistent Haul”
With five weeks of training completed at the Open University – the main reason for my sparse posting of late – I can finally turn my attention to showcasing all the awesome free stuff that you can get your hands on courtesy of the O.U.. This week it’s something mentioned previously on this blog and frequently engages me through on my breaks and before work starts.
OpenLearn is a resource I had spent a bit of time with before I started this job and now I recommend it to everyone. The site offers courses, downloads, videos, and up coming programmes with the BBC. Each course is an extract from our degree modules, and with almost 1000 samples here you can indulge in many various learning exercises.
There are courses for everyone over such varied fields as Languages, Nature & Environment , Money & Business, and my personal favourite History & the Arts, which has plenty of literary goodness but never fails to entertain with a speculative punt either.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls Where words come out from the depth of truth Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit Where the mind is led forward by thee Into ever-widening thought and action Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
I had a whole mini essay on why I like this poem, sadly it got lost and way too much time and effort went into it the first time for me to wish to write it again. I’m sure you’ll be thinking along the same lines as myself being the esteemed and intelligent readers that you are.
Although the summer has had a less than stellar start, with plenty of wind and rain, there is always something to warm the heart and in this instance, aside from being back in the Motherland, its reacquainting myself with those books that didn’t make the journey to Ph with me but were stored carefully away for my return.
A fine selection of eclectic works I am sure you will agree, and just as many were lurking out of shot so there will be some surprises too. It’s an exciting time and with the weekend here I am looking forward to plunging into something either new to me or nostalgic, and most importantly not yet reviewed.
After spending half a week face deep in a manuscript, a wander into Derbyshire was much called for yesterday. Inevitably, it was hard to avoid the second hand bookshops, and after going in ‘just to look’, it would have been rude to leave without buying anything. So I did.
In my defence – as if one were needed – a couple of fine book were unearthed. Having read, and loved I, Claudius last year it was a pleasant surprise to bump into the sequel in almost mint condition, and as an added bonus with the same cover style as its companion book.
The Dostoyevsky was again close to mint condition and as it’s been a while since I had read anything by him (and the price was right) it made sense to not only indulge again but actually plan write a review for the blog when I’m done reading, as I seem to have missed reviewing all three books previously read by the author.
Now I just have to find the time to get into them as I am taking on a new quest, as well as the usual, but more of that in a week or two.
Set on the French Riviera in the 1920s, American Dick Diver and his wife Nicole are the epitome of chic, living a glamorous lifestyle and entertaining friends at their villa. Young film star Rosemary Hoyt arrives in France and becomes entranced by the couple. It is not long before she is attracted to the enigmatic Dick, but he and his wife hold dark secrets and as their marriage becomes more fractured, Fitzgerald laments the failure of idealism and the carefully constructed trappings of high society in the Roaring Twenties.
This somewhat autobiographical novel is an interesting read, not only for the story itself, but also for the extra examination of Fitzgerald’s dependency on alcohol and his wife’s Schizophrenia. This, his final and favourite novel is certainly a mixed bag but well worth picking up.
The old cliché about Americans who visit other countries is reinforced here as many of the characters retain a strong American identity but seem purposefully oblivious (and superior) to the cultures that surround them. The locals tolerating their shenanigans partly because of America’s role in the war and, inevitably, the riches brought to a shattered continent recovering from the horrors of the First World War.
There is a vacuous nature to the majority of the characters, at one point I began to wonder if I would be bothered by the fates of any of them. In a world filled with frivolous parties and empty conversations, the carefully manufactured and cultivated superficial facades mean so much to the characters, who like actors are putting on a well rehearsed show.
Jeremy’s mother is about to go to prison for their debt to the State. He is trying everything within his means to save her, but his options are running out fast. Then Jeremy discovers a treasure under Paris. This discovery may save his mother, but it doesn’t come for free. And he has to ride over several obstacles for his plan to work. Meanwhile, something else is limiting his time…
After reading two volumes of Garai’s short stories this is the first novel by the author, once again the focus is on the troubled times of his characters, and how they respond to the problems presented. The down to earth approach to telling a story gives it the edge over those authors that attempt to force an emotional response from the reader with unneeded flourishes.
Taking place in Paris – a source of artistic and literary inspiration for many throughout the ages – I was pleased to see that both made appearances within the story, whilst Garai’s eye for natural beauty – and degradation – in the often ignored urban areas helps layer a further feeling of the city’s atmosphere and depth.
The titular character Jeremy is interesting in his introspective, self-examining ways. His solitary approach to life – somewhat enforced thanks to circumstances – gives him the drive to fix things, even if they don’t always work out in the way he intended. Continue reading “The Bridge of Little Jeremy – Indrajit Garai”