Tuesday, December 27, 2005
And just in case ...
... you haven't seen it, Glenn Reynolds at Instapundit links to a video demonstrating that part of the problem in Iraq may be linguistic.
On this third day of Christmas ...
... let's take a closer look at Dickens's "A Christmas Carol." Hat tip to reader John Carman.
My review ...
... of Kay Ryan's The Niagara River is here at Editor's Choice.
And here's a fresh look at Sinclair Lewis's It Can't Happen Here.
And here's a fresh look at Sinclair Lewis's It Can't Happen Here.
Monday, December 26, 2005
More nourishing fare ...
... on science than one is likely to find in a newspaper: From First Things, particle physicist Stephen Barr on Science and Teleology.
Since it's officially a holiday ...
... here's a Christmas story by Jeanette Winterson linked to by BookGlutton.
I missed this ...
... but it's worth noting anyway: Golden Rule Jones posts the Tyrone Family Christmas Letter.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
What's in a review?
Conventional Reading posts a discussion of a review of a review. Follow the link to get the full context. My own view on the subject of reviews is strictly phenomenological: If I can accurately and precisely describe what I have read, my reader will know full well what I feel about what I've read. In other words, the subject of a review is the book-reader relationship.
I can't let it go at that ...
… because there are a few others deserving of mention:
Myself & the Other Fellow: A Biography of Robert Louis Stevenson by Claire Harmon. Everything you could want in a literary biography.
Defining the World The Extraordinary Story of Dr Johnson's Dictionary by Henry Hitchings. Clear, concise and filled with fascinating information not only about the wonderful Dr. Johnson, but much, much else besides.
The Traveler by John Twelve Hawks. I have it on good authority that teenage guys not inclined to read much have a hard time putting this one down. A little goofy, but pretty riveting.
State of Fear by Michael Crichton. Dan Brown should read this just to see how a real pro writes a thriller. Devout environmentalists will rend their garments over Crichton’s blasphemy, but he’s got charts and graphs and a lot of other data to support this thriller’s premise.
The Rosary Girls by Richard Montanari. Complex, effective, and often genuinely creepy thriller quite accurately set in Philly.
Myself & the Other Fellow: A Biography of Robert Louis Stevenson by Claire Harmon. Everything you could want in a literary biography.
Defining the World The Extraordinary Story of Dr Johnson's Dictionary by Henry Hitchings. Clear, concise and filled with fascinating information not only about the wonderful Dr. Johnson, but much, much else besides.
The Traveler by John Twelve Hawks. I have it on good authority that teenage guys not inclined to read much have a hard time putting this one down. A little goofy, but pretty riveting.
State of Fear by Michael Crichton. Dan Brown should read this just to see how a real pro writes a thriller. Devout environmentalists will rend their garments over Crichton’s blasphemy, but he’s got charts and graphs and a lot of other data to support this thriller’s premise.
The Rosary Girls by Richard Montanari. Complex, effective, and often genuinely creepy thriller quite accurately set in Philly.
Everybody else does it ...
… so why not me. Here are my picks out of the books I reviewed this year in my “Editor’s Choice” column:
The Society of Others by William Nicholson. “If you want a name, use your own,” the protagonist of this enigmatic novel by the author of Shadowlands tells the reader as he refuses to divulge his name. Which is just as well because The Society of Others ultimately leaves the reader at the center of its mystery.
Sophia House by Michael D. O'Brien. A harrowing account, set in Warsaw during World War II, of the relationship between a bitter bookseller and the 17-year-old Hasidic boy he shelters from the Germans, a demonstration that genuine sainthood costs, in Eliot’s phrase, “not less than everything.”
Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt by Anne Rice. Told in the voice of the divinely precocious Jesus, this is a remarkably effective fictional presentation of the figure millions continue to regard as their Savior.
The Sea by John Banville. Perhaps the greatest sustained bit of onomatopoeia in the language. The sea of the title resonates in practically every sentence. A tale of loss, not only of a wife, but of meaning, it is stunningly written and quite moving.
The Singularity Is Near by Ray Kurzweil. Simply an important book, crammed with ideas and information. The book you have to read if you want to have some idea of what is happening technologically.
William Pitt the Younger by William Hague. The former leader of Britain’s Conservative Party has written an extraordinarily lucid and compelling biography of the man who was the youngest prime minister ever and the longest-serving prime minister in war time. An enigmatic, but strangely tragic figure.
Makes You Stop and Think by Daniel Hoffman. The former U.S. poet laureate’s sonnets are masterfully crafted, utterly accessible, often funny, sometimes heartbreaking. If you think you don’t like poetry, try these.
The Niagara River by Kay Ryan. Ryan’s short, wry, thoughtful poems are as concentrated as diamonds. They make you reconsider not only the world but the words we use to talk about it.
Pure Pagan Seven Centuries of Greek Poems and Fragments Selected and translated by Burton Raffel. Want to know how people who believed in life after death but didn’t think it amounted to much looked at the world? Read this book.
Telegrams of the Soul Selected Prose of Peter Altenberg Translated by Peter Wortsman. Short, quirky pieces by a classic romantic bohemian who paid a higher price for his carefree persona than anyone suspected.
The Society of Others by William Nicholson. “If you want a name, use your own,” the protagonist of this enigmatic novel by the author of Shadowlands tells the reader as he refuses to divulge his name. Which is just as well because The Society of Others ultimately leaves the reader at the center of its mystery.
Sophia House by Michael D. O'Brien. A harrowing account, set in Warsaw during World War II, of the relationship between a bitter bookseller and the 17-year-old Hasidic boy he shelters from the Germans, a demonstration that genuine sainthood costs, in Eliot’s phrase, “not less than everything.”
Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt by Anne Rice. Told in the voice of the divinely precocious Jesus, this is a remarkably effective fictional presentation of the figure millions continue to regard as their Savior.
The Sea by John Banville. Perhaps the greatest sustained bit of onomatopoeia in the language. The sea of the title resonates in practically every sentence. A tale of loss, not only of a wife, but of meaning, it is stunningly written and quite moving.
The Singularity Is Near by Ray Kurzweil. Simply an important book, crammed with ideas and information. The book you have to read if you want to have some idea of what is happening technologically.
William Pitt the Younger by William Hague. The former leader of Britain’s Conservative Party has written an extraordinarily lucid and compelling biography of the man who was the youngest prime minister ever and the longest-serving prime minister in war time. An enigmatic, but strangely tragic figure.
Makes You Stop and Think by Daniel Hoffman. The former U.S. poet laureate’s sonnets are masterfully crafted, utterly accessible, often funny, sometimes heartbreaking. If you think you don’t like poetry, try these.
The Niagara River by Kay Ryan. Ryan’s short, wry, thoughtful poems are as concentrated as diamonds. They make you reconsider not only the world but the words we use to talk about it.
Pure Pagan Seven Centuries of Greek Poems and Fragments Selected and translated by Burton Raffel. Want to know how people who believed in life after death but didn’t think it amounted to much looked at the world? Read this book.
Telegrams of the Soul Selected Prose of Peter Altenberg Translated by Peter Wortsman. Short, quirky pieces by a classic romantic bohemian who paid a higher price for his carefree persona than anyone suspected.
One from Column A ...
... and two from Column B perhaps. At GalleyCat: Take out a book along with your Chinese food.
Authors speak up ...
Bookreporter.com links to all of its 2005 author interviews. Included are chats with Richard Montanari (The Rosary Girls) and Neil Olsen (The Icon), both of whose books I reviewed and liked. Also one with Steve Berry, whose The Third Secret I didn't manage to get to but heard good things about.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Yet another shared enthusiasm...
Sandra at Book World posts about Arthur Machen, a wonderful writer.
Another chance to speak out ...
Maud Newton links to an opportunity to read a favorite poem and have your reading posted on the Net.
Critical blogging ...
... or blogging criticism. Either way, a panel at the Makor Center discussed it. James Marcus was there. So was Bud Parr. My view is much the same as Terry Teachout's.
History is written by the winners ...
... as Lars Walker demonstrates at Brandywine Books: The Eve of St. Erling’s Day.
Something to think about ...
Karie B, at Bookish raises an issue worth considering:
"Refraining from reading a book (or watching a film) because characters are involved in something you find morally objectional strikes me as .. very odd. Is it because you in your capacity as a reader are afraid of losing yourself in the headspace of the characters or .. what?"
It seems to me that to refrain from reading a book because the characters engage in something I find morally objectionable would seriously limit the range of my reading. I object to murder, but think Macbeth is a great play. In fact, I find I connect quite well with Macbeth himself, especially at the end when, knowing all is lost including honor, that the prophecies have come to pass and Birnum Wood has indeed come to Dunsinane, he still doesn';t shrink from fighting MacDuff.
Lolita, on the other hand, didn't grab me becaus I just couldn't connect with Humbert Humbert as a person. I find it difficult to read a work of fiction whose central character I cannot in some way identify with. A limitation, I am sure, but it hasn't kept me from much.
"Refraining from reading a book (or watching a film) because characters are involved in something you find morally objectional strikes me as .. very odd. Is it because you in your capacity as a reader are afraid of losing yourself in the headspace of the characters or .. what?"
It seems to me that to refrain from reading a book because the characters engage in something I find morally objectionable would seriously limit the range of my reading. I object to murder, but think Macbeth is a great play. In fact, I find I connect quite well with Macbeth himself, especially at the end when, knowing all is lost including honor, that the prophecies have come to pass and Birnum Wood has indeed come to Dunsinane, he still doesn';t shrink from fighting MacDuff.
Lolita, on the other hand, didn't grab me becaus I just couldn't connect with Humbert Humbert as a person. I find it difficult to read a work of fiction whose central character I cannot in some way identify with. A limitation, I am sure, but it hasn't kept me from much.
Opening gambit ...
Steven Hart has a nice piece about Dashiell Hammett's first novel, Red Harvest. I agree about the opening, but the thing I most remember about the book is a line that comes toward the end (if memory serves): "I haven't laughed so much since the hogs ate my kid brother."
Instant library ...
The complete set of Penguin Classics is now available -- and only available -- at Amazon.
The perils of assigning ...
Lisa Coutant links to a discussion at GalleyCat regarding whether a book should be assigned for review "to somebody if the author of that book had previously panned the reviewer's earlier work."
I certainly wouldn't. And I may have more to say on the subject later.
I certainly wouldn't. And I may have more to say on the subject later.
In the Nicholas of time ...
Speaking of Dostoyevsky, Today in Literature reminds that on this date in 1849 the writer-to-be was led out of the Peter and Paul Fortress (commanded by an ancestor of Vladimir Nabokov) with some fellow prisoners to be executed. Just before the first group was about to be dispatched, a messenger arrived with a reprieve from Czar Nicholas I (who had concocted the whole charade). Dostoyevsky was shipped off to Siberia for four years. Another prisoner became completely deranged as a result of the ordeal and had to be confined to an asylum.
What has this got to do with books?
Well, give me a moment to explain. Bill Peschel links to Dustbury, who links to the Slut-o-Meter. The latter, I find, provides some interesting evaluations:
Tolstoy: -8.24 percent
Dostoyevsky: 6.89 percent
Kerouac: -1.88 percent
Bukowski: 11.86 percent
Henry James: 3.28 percent
What can you make of something that rates Henry James sluttier than Tolstoy and Kerouac?
Tolstoy: -8.24 percent
Dostoyevsky: 6.89 percent
Kerouac: -1.88 percent
Bukowski: 11.86 percent
Henry James: 3.28 percent
What can you make of something that rates Henry James sluttier than Tolstoy and Kerouac?
The perils of reprise ...
Bill Peschel ponders sequels cinematic and literary. I think the problem with sequels is that the motive for them always seems more purely commenercial than anything else.
RIP: Fiction ...
Steve Clackson posts a CBC piece wondering Is Fiction Dead?
At BookExpo America a few years ago I heard much talk that strongly narrative nonfiction was beginning to displace fiction. I think the key here is "strongly narrative." Fiction that tells a good story continues to sell. But I see no evidence that "the war in Iraq ... has fuelled readers’ appetites for political non-fiction." Fiction that eschews narrative in favor of style and interior musings seems to appeal to a minority of readers (but often gets highly praised by reviewers). It's not all that different from movies: The movies we're supposed to take seriously as "art" are "intimate" indie flicks. But I can't be the only person who has noticed how little variety there often is among the idependents. If you have the Independent Film Channel on cable, channel surf there from time to time: Amazing how many of the films are shot the same way, with the same sort of lighting, the same sort of sweet-melacholy score, the same mood.
At BookExpo America a few years ago I heard much talk that strongly narrative nonfiction was beginning to displace fiction. I think the key here is "strongly narrative." Fiction that tells a good story continues to sell. But I see no evidence that "the war in Iraq ... has fuelled readers’ appetites for political non-fiction." Fiction that eschews narrative in favor of style and interior musings seems to appeal to a minority of readers (but often gets highly praised by reviewers). It's not all that different from movies: The movies we're supposed to take seriously as "art" are "intimate" indie flicks. But I can't be the only person who has noticed how little variety there often is among the idependents. If you have the Independent Film Channel on cable, channel surf there from time to time: Amazing how many of the films are shot the same way, with the same sort of lighting, the same sort of sweet-melacholy score, the same mood.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Magical thieving ...
A Russian security guard has been arrested for stealing two copies of the latest Harry Potter novel and threatening to blackmail publisher Bloomsbury. Even worse, he jumped the pub the date!
Presidential reading ....
DR. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, President of India, writes about a few of the books that he read this year. (Hat tip: patrakaar2b.)
The prospects for books ...
Michael Hyatt has some further thoughts on what the future may hold for books. Grumpy Old Bookman adds some thoughts of his own.
A good year for crime fiction ...
... but not a great year, David Montgomery says. Here is his look back.
Odds & ends
J.M. Coetzee defends the social sciences.
There's a poetry workshop going on at the Guardian, and it's not too late to join in.
Philip Hensher responds to Ian Rankin.
The Bookseller and the Historian
There's a poetry workshop going on at the Guardian, and it's not too late to join in.
Philip Hensher responds to Ian Rankin.
The Bookseller and the Historian
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
True, it has nothing to do with books ...
... but four out of five letters makes it close. And it's a pretty intriguing post Lisa Coutant has at Oy She's At It Again.
Words matter ...
Magnus Linklater in the Times of London declares that "the beauty of language in traditional hymns is what inspires, not modern banalities." O come off it, all ye Faithful.
Also in the Times, an obituary for George Painter, biographer of Proust.
Finally, again from the Times, A Christmas Carol serialized and condensed by Charles Dickens himself.
Also in the Times, an obituary for George Painter, biographer of Proust.
Finally, again from the Times, A Christmas Carol serialized and condensed by Charles Dickens himself.
Where to look up what ...
Martyn Everett at Booksurfer links to a report comparing Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Britannica. I use both -- and subscribe to Britannica.
Newspapers aren't the only ones ...
... who don't figure into their equation people who read books. According to Booksquare, neither do book publishers.
As for newspapers, Ghost Word posts this.
As for newspapers, Ghost Word posts this.
It's a jungle out there ...
Sand Storm links to a story that demonstrates just how predacious the publishing world can be.
"Had we but world enough, and time ..."
As Andrew Marvell put it in "To His Coy Mistress." Well, maybe we do. Take a look at The Clock of All Time.
Be of good cheer ...
Or maybe not. James Panero at armavirumque looks at Shakespeare's war on Christmas.
More recommendations ...
Elizabeth Kostova, author of The Historian offers up her picks at the Guardian, which has some others besides. And Christopher Caldwell at the Weekly Standard has a fine appreciation of Anthony Powell.
Update: January magazine has a comprehensive list. And Blogcritics serve up picks with a twist.
Update: January magazine has a comprehensive list. And Blogcritics serve up picks with a twist.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Not your usual book recommendations ...
... over at Instapundit. That's because they're from readers. Which makes them more interesting. And, since everybody seems to do it, I guess I'll get around in the next couple of days to making some recommendations of my own.
A must post before leaving the office ...
There's so much worth reading to at Miss Snark -- just go and scroll down. Here's the site of her fan club (hat tip: Bonnie Calhoun).
Probably won't blog anymore today. I have a review to write.
Probably won't blog anymore today. I have a review to write.
The big issue ...
... seems to be "literary" vs. "genre" fiction. At least it comes up a lot. Sarah Weinman touches on it in Here we go again, redux.
Prediction is difficult ...
... according to Niels Bohr. But maybe a sense of humor helps. Headlines from 2029 via Brandywine Books.
My day job ...
... about which I am supossed to blog from time to time, calls. Deadlines have been moved up and a story has just arrived that is, shall we say, a tad long. Back later.
Colin Wilson (yet again) ...
Recently, published two posts about Colin Wilson , here and here. Now, Scott McLemmee at Cogito, ergo Zoom links to a discussion of what he had to say in his recent piece about Wilson. I make no apologies for my enthusiasm for Wilson. For one thing, Wilson writes well, and if he at times comes off as a little credulous, he never comes off as sterile. He may think indiscriminately, but he also thinks passionately. Reading him, one feels that ideas are a part of life, not just items on a syllabus.
Lion's share ...
Douglas Gresham, stepson of C.S. Lewis, talks about Lewis and Narna: In the name of the father ... But Lewis himself might not altogether agree with what Gresham has to say.
A late start ...
... this morning. Just got to the office in desperate need of coffee. Blogging will have to wait a bit.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Another shared enthusiasm ...
Rockslinga links to her sister's new blog Clara & Fanny, devoted to women composers. I think that's a good idea, because there are number of women composers whose work deserves to be heard more, among them Rebecca Clarke, Peggy Glanville-Hicks, Germaine Tailleferre, and Lili Boulanger. Also Sofia Gubaidulina.
Rogues' gallery ...
Prufrock's Page links to a roundup of the year's most notable plagiarism. It's quite a list.
Attention, scifi fans ...
Glenn Reynolds at Instapundit has posted his Science Fiction Recommendations.
One more time ...
I link back to my earlier Harold Pinter link so that all can read Rus Bowden's wonderfully pertinent comment: Au contraire. Check out Rus's links, too.
Some things to look into ...
Steve Clackson at Sand Storm links to a proposed Book of the Year. Meanwhile, Suzy Prince sings the praises of British Kitchen Sink fiction in A Kind of Loving (I am myself an Alan Sillitoe fan).
Advice for the news business ...
... from William Powers at the Wilson Quarterly: The Collapse of Big Media: Seven Steps to Salvation.
A point worth pondering:
Herding young viewers and readers into little media ghettos will not win them over. Young people recognize demographic targeting—they grew up with it. Rather than patronize them with endless “youth” sections and segments, why not include young reporters and commentators throughout your pages and broadcasts? In particular, the opinion columns of America’s great newspapers are the Sun Cities of journalism, where older journalists go to live out their golden years. They need fresher perspectives. Meanwhile, because the nightly network newscasts tend to draw an older audience, the networks skew the content toward the interests of the elderly—that’s why we see all those “Your Health” segments about new cures for wrinkles and arthritis, high blood pressure and low libido. Such tactics are driving the young away from everything you do.
And another:
Only disconnect. There’s a widespread sense in the news business that contemporary audiences want their news delivered strictly in quick hits: Nothing too thoughtful or lengthy, thank you very much; who has the time? This may be true at the moment, as consumers try to adjust to the proliferation of news sources. But content that can be downloaded on a cell phone and digested in a moment isn’t very nourishing, and a day will arrive when the public hungers for more. Though this diet of news niblets is initially appetizing, people will inevitably realize that they’d do better to push away from the buzzy grid and seek more substantial nourishment elsewhere. The baby boomers are about to start retiring, and they’re going to have a lot of time on their hands. Tiny news bites won’t fill the hours or satisfy their need.
Of course, the trick is not to write in such a way as what you write seems to read long.
A point worth pondering:
Herding young viewers and readers into little media ghettos will not win them over. Young people recognize demographic targeting—they grew up with it. Rather than patronize them with endless “youth” sections and segments, why not include young reporters and commentators throughout your pages and broadcasts? In particular, the opinion columns of America’s great newspapers are the Sun Cities of journalism, where older journalists go to live out their golden years. They need fresher perspectives. Meanwhile, because the nightly network newscasts tend to draw an older audience, the networks skew the content toward the interests of the elderly—that’s why we see all those “Your Health” segments about new cures for wrinkles and arthritis, high blood pressure and low libido. Such tactics are driving the young away from everything you do.
And another:
Only disconnect. There’s a widespread sense in the news business that contemporary audiences want their news delivered strictly in quick hits: Nothing too thoughtful or lengthy, thank you very much; who has the time? This may be true at the moment, as consumers try to adjust to the proliferation of news sources. But content that can be downloaded on a cell phone and digested in a moment isn’t very nourishing, and a day will arrive when the public hungers for more. Though this diet of news niblets is initially appetizing, people will inevitably realize that they’d do better to push away from the buzzy grid and seek more substantial nourishment elsewhere. The baby boomers are about to start retiring, and they’re going to have a lot of time on their hands. Tiny news bites won’t fill the hours or satisfy their need.
Of course, the trick is not to write in such a way as what you write seems to read long.
The plays are the things ...
In Germany, Euripides is proving elusive, and Ibsen is thought to be more up-to-date than Chekhov.
All things come in time ...
... for him who knows how to wait. Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita will soon make it to Russian TV.
Before it's too late ...
... check out Booksurfer, which links to the TLS and a look at the art of the obituary.
Roll out the manuscript ...
Jack Kerouac typed On the Road on long rolls of tracing paper. Next month a portion of that manuscript scroll will go on display at the San Francisco Public Library.
More journalistic head wear ....
Not to be outdone by colleagues' outre chapeaus, Inquirer blogger extraordinaire Dan Rubin demonstrates how ideas simply blossom when he dons his thinking cap.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Let's be politically incorrect ...
... and talk about Christmas! Lars Walker at Brandywine Books has some uplifting thoughts about Charles Wesley's "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing!" Foamy the Squirrel won't mind a bit.
Apologies ...
I don't know what exactly is going on but everything I've posted this month has disappeared and been replaced by much older posts. I have an email into Blogger, but who knows? So we may be out of whack for awhile.
All is lost ...
... at least so far it looks that way -- all the posts I wrote today, and all those I wrote this month. Too bad, because I had linked to some interestng stuff. Will try again later.
Don't know what's going on ...
... but all my posts for today seem to have disappeared and been replaced by my earlier ones.
Odd & ends ...
Sarah Weinman has another useful roundup posted.
Sand Storm links to a look at blogospherical growing pains.
More good advice to authors from Miss Snark.
Sand Storm links to a look at blogospherical growing pains.
More good advice to authors from Miss Snark.
About time ...
Powerline takes a break from politics to consider literature. The first book I reviewed for The Inquirer, back in 1976, was Hearing Secret Harmonies, the concluding volume of Anthony Powell's great 12-volume cycle A Dance to the Music of Time.
Introducing science fiction ...
John Scalzi thinks science fiction could use some outreach. And Glenn Reynolds thinks highly of Scalzi's latest.
Climate of opinion ...
Public discourse tends to be both intemperate and imprecise. In fact, its intemperateness is directly proportional to its lack of precision. So a lot of heat is generated, but not much light is shed.
This problem not only is not new, it would appear to be perennial. Clear definitions, sound propositions, and properly framed arguments are as rare today as they were when Socrates insisted upon them in the Athenian agora.
It is a problem that affords a wonderful opportunity for newspapers to exert a positive effect on public discourse by providing the precision that is otherwise absent. Unfortunately, newspapers have not taken advantage of the opportunity, but continue instead to make their own contributions to the problem.
On the front of this morning's Inquirer, for instance, there is a teaser to a series starting tomorrow about the Gulf Stream, which, the teaser says, "has taken center stage in research in global warming."
Global warming, the all-purpose cause of every environmental disaster, whether it be drought or flood, hot spells or cold. Well, consider this: In May 2003, physicist Freeman Dyson, retired director of the Institute for Advanced Studies in Princeton, published in the New York Review of Books a review of Vaclav Smil's The Earth's Biosphere: Evolution, Dynamics, and Change. It should be prominently displayed in every newsroom in the nation. Since I bought a copy from NYRB's online archives, I feel I have the right, according to fair use, to quote a couple of key passages. I highly recommend getting a copy; it's only three bucks.
Here, however, is a fine example of precision:
The physical effects of carbon dioxide are seen in changes of rainfall, cloudiness, wind strength, and temperature, which are customarily lumped together in the misleading phrase "global warming." This phrase is misleading because the warming caused by the greenhouse effect of increased carbon dioxide is not evenly distributed. In humid air, the effect of carbon dioxide on the transport of heat by radiation is less important, because it is outweighed by the much larger greenhouse effect of water vapor. The effect of carbon dioxide is more important where the air is dry, and air is usually dry only where it is cold. The warming mainly occurs where air is cold and dry, mainly in the arctic rather than in the tropics, mainly in winter rather than in summer, and mainly at night rather than in daytime. The warming is real, but it is mostly making cold places warmer rather than making hot places hotter. To represent this local warming by a global average is misleading, because the global average is only a fraction of a degree while the local warming at high latitudes is much larger. Also, local changes in rainfall, whether they are increases or decreases, are usually more important than changes in temperature. It is better to use the phrase "climate change" rather than "global warming" to describe the physical effects of carbon dioxide.
Given that Mars and other planets also show evidence of warming, it should be obvious that the phrase "global warming" is less a mental shortcut than a mental short-circuit. And though what Dyson says in this paragraph may not seem all that significant, he goes on to explain a good many other related matters -- also quite precisely -- leading him to conclude:
The biosphere is the most complicated of all the things we humans have to deal with. The science of planetary ecology is still young and undeveloped. It is not surprising that honest and well-informed experts can disagree about facts. But beyond the disagreements about facts, there is another deeper disagreement about values. The disagreement about values may be described in an oversimplified way as a disagreement between naturalists and humanists. Naturalists believe that nature knows best. For them the highest value is respect for the natural order of things. Any gross human disruption of the natural environment is evil. Excessive burning of fossil fuels, and the consequent increase of atmospheric carbon dioxide, are unqualified evils.
Humanists believe that humans are an essential part of nature. Through human minds the biosphere has acquired the capacity to steer its own evolution, and we are now in charge. Humans have the right to reorganize nature so that humans and biosphere can survive and prosper together. For humanists, the highest value is intelligent coexistence between humans and nature. The greatest evils are war and poverty, underdevelopment and unemployment, disease and hunger, the miseries that deprive people of opportunities and limit their freedoms. As Bertolt Brecht wrote in The Threepenny Opera, "Feeding comes first, morality second." If people do not have enough to eat, we cannot expect them to put much effort into protecting the biosphere. In the long run, preservation of the biosphere will only be possible if people everywhere have a decent standard of living. The humanist ethic does not regard an increase of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere as evil, if the increase is associated with worldwide economic prosperity, and if the poorer half of humanity gets its fair share of the benefits.
This is a serious matter. It deserves serious discourse, not reliance on bumper-sticker memes.
This problem not only is not new, it would appear to be perennial. Clear definitions, sound propositions, and properly framed arguments are as rare today as they were when Socrates insisted upon them in the Athenian agora.
It is a problem that affords a wonderful opportunity for newspapers to exert a positive effect on public discourse by providing the precision that is otherwise absent. Unfortunately, newspapers have not taken advantage of the opportunity, but continue instead to make their own contributions to the problem.
On the front of this morning's Inquirer, for instance, there is a teaser to a series starting tomorrow about the Gulf Stream, which, the teaser says, "has taken center stage in research in global warming."
Global warming, the all-purpose cause of every environmental disaster, whether it be drought or flood, hot spells or cold. Well, consider this: In May 2003, physicist Freeman Dyson, retired director of the Institute for Advanced Studies in Princeton, published in the New York Review of Books a review of Vaclav Smil's The Earth's Biosphere: Evolution, Dynamics, and Change. It should be prominently displayed in every newsroom in the nation. Since I bought a copy from NYRB's online archives, I feel I have the right, according to fair use, to quote a couple of key passages. I highly recommend getting a copy; it's only three bucks.
Here, however, is a fine example of precision:
The physical effects of carbon dioxide are seen in changes of rainfall, cloudiness, wind strength, and temperature, which are customarily lumped together in the misleading phrase "global warming." This phrase is misleading because the warming caused by the greenhouse effect of increased carbon dioxide is not evenly distributed. In humid air, the effect of carbon dioxide on the transport of heat by radiation is less important, because it is outweighed by the much larger greenhouse effect of water vapor. The effect of carbon dioxide is more important where the air is dry, and air is usually dry only where it is cold. The warming mainly occurs where air is cold and dry, mainly in the arctic rather than in the tropics, mainly in winter rather than in summer, and mainly at night rather than in daytime. The warming is real, but it is mostly making cold places warmer rather than making hot places hotter. To represent this local warming by a global average is misleading, because the global average is only a fraction of a degree while the local warming at high latitudes is much larger. Also, local changes in rainfall, whether they are increases or decreases, are usually more important than changes in temperature. It is better to use the phrase "climate change" rather than "global warming" to describe the physical effects of carbon dioxide.
Given that Mars and other planets also show evidence of warming, it should be obvious that the phrase "global warming" is less a mental shortcut than a mental short-circuit. And though what Dyson says in this paragraph may not seem all that significant, he goes on to explain a good many other related matters -- also quite precisely -- leading him to conclude:
The biosphere is the most complicated of all the things we humans have to deal with. The science of planetary ecology is still young and undeveloped. It is not surprising that honest and well-informed experts can disagree about facts. But beyond the disagreements about facts, there is another deeper disagreement about values. The disagreement about values may be described in an oversimplified way as a disagreement between naturalists and humanists. Naturalists believe that nature knows best. For them the highest value is respect for the natural order of things. Any gross human disruption of the natural environment is evil. Excessive burning of fossil fuels, and the consequent increase of atmospheric carbon dioxide, are unqualified evils.
Humanists believe that humans are an essential part of nature. Through human minds the biosphere has acquired the capacity to steer its own evolution, and we are now in charge. Humans have the right to reorganize nature so that humans and biosphere can survive and prosper together. For humanists, the highest value is intelligent coexistence between humans and nature. The greatest evils are war and poverty, underdevelopment and unemployment, disease and hunger, the miseries that deprive people of opportunities and limit their freedoms. As Bertolt Brecht wrote in The Threepenny Opera, "Feeding comes first, morality second." If people do not have enough to eat, we cannot expect them to put much effort into protecting the biosphere. In the long run, preservation of the biosphere will only be possible if people everywhere have a decent standard of living. The humanist ethic does not regard an increase of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere as evil, if the increase is associated with worldwide economic prosperity, and if the poorer half of humanity gets its fair share of the benefits.
This is a serious matter. It deserves serious discourse, not reliance on bumper-sticker memes.
Friday, December 16, 2005
A column of poetry ...
Poet Laureate Ted Kooser has started something called American Life in Poetry, described as a "free column for newspapers," in which Kooser introduces readers to a poem he has selected. The Inquirer hasn't signed up yet -- though I suppose I ought to pitch the idea -- but here's a link to Column 38, which I presume is the latest.
Mixed to match ...
Bill Peschel links to a fun match game at Paperback Writer, who also has a very interesting post titled Taming the Dragon, about a voice recognition software program.
Words, words, words ...
December's OED Newsletter offers Quotable Quotes and Interesting Antedatings. And while we're at it, The OED needs your help, too: BBC Wordhunt.
Stars shake free ...
In the Book Standard Johnny Temple looks at how big-time authors like Stephen King and Walter Mosley are choosing to pass up large advances and publish with independents: Stephen King and the Continuation of the Indie Power Grab. Of course, now they can afford to.
Assaying the essay ...
Scott McLemee has a characteristically fine piece on the essay at Inside Higher Education: The Formless Form. I posted some thoughts on the subject myself a while back here.
The right to write what's on your mind ....
Boyd Tonkin in The Independent writes about Menaces to Free Speech. Hat tip: Bookninja.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Pop goes the lit again ...
Will Duquette at The View From the Foothills in a post titled I've Always Thought So links to some comments by Washington Post critic Jonathan Yardley and novelist Richard Wheeler. Key Yardly quote:
the "literary" fiction being written in this country nowadays strikes me as so jejune, self-absorbed and lifeless that I am just about unable to read it, much less pass fair judgment on it. Instead, I find myself turning more and more to what is commonly dismissed by the literati as "popular" or "genre" fiction…
Well, I mostly agree. At least when it comes to American fiction. I liked John Banville's The Sea and last year I liked Muriel Spark's The Finishing School. But a lot of so-called literary fiction in this country portrays a world that I don't seem to encounter in reality.
the "literary" fiction being written in this country nowadays strikes me as so jejune, self-absorbed and lifeless that I am just about unable to read it, much less pass fair judgment on it. Instead, I find myself turning more and more to what is commonly dismissed by the literati as "popular" or "genre" fiction…
Well, I mostly agree. At least when it comes to American fiction. I liked John Banville's The Sea and last year I liked Muriel Spark's The Finishing School. But a lot of so-called literary fiction in this country portrays a world that I don't seem to encounter in reality.
Representing reality ...
I had not re-read the last couple of chapters of Russell Brain's Mind, Perception and Science when I wrote this earlier post (which links to even ealier ones on the same subject). But I had read the book, so maybe that's why the post, which was meant to articulate some thoughts of my own, merely echoed what Brain ultimately had to say:
... if the stuff of the universe that we know directly is mind, and matter is the same thing known only by means of conceptual symbols created by mind, it would seem as reasonable to call at least part of reality mind as to call it matter. And matter, even crude matter, is not what it was. It has turned into energy, and the atom has become a pattern and the molecule a pattern of patterns, till all the different physical substances and their behaviour have come to be regarded as the outcome of the structure of their primitive components. But we have already met with pattern in the nervous system, underlying and rendering possible the most fundamental characteristics of the mind. And pattern in some mysterious way possesses a life of its own, for it can survive a change in the identity of its component parts as longs as its structure remains the same. As a wave can move over the sea and remain the same wave, though the water of which it is composed is continuously changing, a pattern can shift over the retina and therefore over the visual area of the brain and remain recognizably the same pattern. The pattern of our personality though it changes slowly remains substantially the same, though every protein molecule in the body, including the nervous system, is changed three times a year. The ingredients have altered but not the structure.
This does not, of course, address the question I raised -- from what do the symbols representing the patterns derive? Suppose the electrical impulses that are atoms and particles are elements of a grand transmission? It is not the electrical signal reaching our television set that concerns us, but rather the imagery on the screen. That imagery is the point of the transmission. This is what has always bothered me about philosophical materialism: It is as if one were trying to make sense of Hamlet by studying the carpentry of the Globe Theater.
... if the stuff of the universe that we know directly is mind, and matter is the same thing known only by means of conceptual symbols created by mind, it would seem as reasonable to call at least part of reality mind as to call it matter. And matter, even crude matter, is not what it was. It has turned into energy, and the atom has become a pattern and the molecule a pattern of patterns, till all the different physical substances and their behaviour have come to be regarded as the outcome of the structure of their primitive components. But we have already met with pattern in the nervous system, underlying and rendering possible the most fundamental characteristics of the mind. And pattern in some mysterious way possesses a life of its own, for it can survive a change in the identity of its component parts as longs as its structure remains the same. As a wave can move over the sea and remain the same wave, though the water of which it is composed is continuously changing, a pattern can shift over the retina and therefore over the visual area of the brain and remain recognizably the same pattern. The pattern of our personality though it changes slowly remains substantially the same, though every protein molecule in the body, including the nervous system, is changed three times a year. The ingredients have altered but not the structure.
This does not, of course, address the question I raised -- from what do the symbols representing the patterns derive? Suppose the electrical impulses that are atoms and particles are elements of a grand transmission? It is not the electrical signal reaching our television set that concerns us, but rather the imagery on the screen. That imagery is the point of the transmission. This is what has always bothered me about philosophical materialism: It is as if one were trying to make sense of Hamlet by studying the carpentry of the Globe Theater.
An interesting project ...
The Syntax of Things considers Underrated Writers, one of whom turns out to be Philadelphia Daily News alumnus -- and National Book Award winner -- Pete Dexter.
Pop goes the lit, or vice versa ...
The hot topic at Blogcritics is Literary vs. Popular Fiction. Hat tip: Sand Storm.
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