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This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it,
click here.
Reasonably interesting for the historical/cultural knowledge; the author seems to have done her research, or anyway she says she did, and I don't know enough to know the difference. It starts out okay, but the dialogue clumsiness, heavy-handed (somet...more
Reasonably interesting for the historical/cultural knowledge; the author seems to have done her research, or anyway she says she did, and I don't know enough to know the difference. It starts out okay, but the dialogue clumsiness, heavy-handed (sometimes even brute-force) plotting, and unnecessary proliferation of viewpoints (and the proofing, even) get progressively worse as the series goes along, though there's an especially noticeable plunge between the first book and the second. The characters seem at first like they have a lot of potential to be interesting, but then that never really goes anywhere with most of them. (The epilogue is, at least, satisfyingly irritating.) Does interesting and halfway competent things with the multi-language stuff; while it's only halfway competent, and peters out as it goes on, halfway is far better than a lot of authors do. The herbary excerpts at the chapter beginnings got old real quick; I see the point, and it would be fine if I could just skip or skim them, but alas, I constitutionally can't. I really liked some of the things the author was doing with regard to religion (at least for YA) and really did not like some other things. The cultural-miredness of what seems like a reasonable religious belief is reasonably elegantly presented, as is the un-pin-down-able-ness of reality and truth. The bricolageishness of religion is also nicely pointed up, and I think the author does a reasonably decent job of staying this side of condescending, though it's a little annoying that when you scratch the surface of India you get Greece. (Also that she killed off all the pesky Muslims.)
(Accidentally read YA again... Sigh.)(less)
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" Michael says: The OED is right. It comes from vulgar Latin 'cattus' (for '(domesticated) cat'), and got spread throughout the European languages from...more
Michael says: The OED is right. It comes from vulgar Latin 'cattus' (for '(domesticated) cat'), and got spread throughout the European languages from there, along with the spread of domesticated cats with the Romans. There were already words for 'cat' in Old English ('catt'), Old High German ('katz' or 'katzu', he doesn't remember which), and Old Norse ('kǫttr'), but with non-native phonology indicating borrowing from Latin. The Old Norse and Old English forms (and the Slavic forms too) are obviously from 'cattus' rather than 'catta'; Old High German could be from either, but given the other two, it's probably 'cattus'. None of them could possibly be from 'catulus'. (You can ask him if you really want more on how the Indo-Europeanists know all that. :) The explanations he gave me were...long. Mostly it's about vowel harmony.) But nobody knows quite how or when it got into Latin. It's not a native word structure; if it had grown there from proto-Indo-European, it wouldn't have two t's. It's assumed it's probably from a North African language, probably acquired when the Romans picked up whole the domesticated cat thing from somewhere in North Africa, probably Egypt. (The Wiktionary entry, which Michael says is not off its gourd, gives some ideas: http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/cattus) The Perseus Project says 'cattus' wasn't in classical Latin, though (only 'felis' (cats in general)), and didn't become widespread until medieval Latin, hence the assumption that it came from some vulgar-Latin substrate. 'catta' was in classical Latin, but the dictionary Perseus got it from just says it was some unknown animal. (Michael points out that it may have actually been an independent word for some other animal, or it may be that there was a form 'catta' that was probably the feminine of 'cattus' but the dictionary-writers were being conservative about saying so because they didn't have classical attestations of the masculine version.) (Other notes: 'catulus' means young animal in general; not necessarily just puppies. And the Latin corpus doesn't change, but people's ideas about where the words came from and what they meant do, based on new data about other languages (and about population movements, etc.), including about where modern-language words came from. Frex., the writers of the old dictionary Perseus uses for 'catta' said probably-wrong things about the modern German reflexes because they didn't have access to the Old English and Old Norse texts that have since become publicly available. So, newer dictionaries can be better in that way.)
(I have also learned many other things in the last hour that are not included in this comment. Remind me not to say things like 'Hey, Michael, want to answer an etymological question?' :) )(less)
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Read Lysistrata. Great translation, and excellent fun all around. (And given that all the women were intended to be played by men anyway, Michael was perfect for the parts.)
[Actually read in the Macmillan Literature of the Western World anthology, V...more
Read Lysistrata. Great translation, and excellent fun all around. (And given that all the women were intended to be played by men anyway, Michael was perfect for the parts.)
[Actually read in the Macmillan Literature of the Western World anthology, Vol. 1 (1992).](less)
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Very...spotty. Which I suppose is sort of appropriate for a zombie book. (This is a critique of Grahame-Smith's additions, obviously; not much point in critiquing Pride and Prejudice here. Suffice to say, Austen's what kept us reading through Grahame...more
Very...spotty. Which I suppose is sort of appropriate for a zombie book. (This is a critique of Grahame-Smith's additions, obviously; not much point in critiquing Pride and Prejudice here. Suffice to say, Austen's what kept us reading through Grahame-Smith's ups and downs.) There were some parts where Grahame-Smith had some really funny ideas in terms of how he made the parallels with the original work, and twisted them in interesting ways. And the Hong-Kong-martial-arts-film combat scenes were nicely fun. (Well, when they even rose to that level.) (Better in this context than most, probably, because they were a more interesting clash. (Especially with Austenian realism.)) But a lot of the zombie bits themselves were fairly ho-hum and repetitive, and often badly stitched together with the original.
And he kind of went off the rails about two-thirds through, making Elizabeth an unreliable narrator for exactly one paragraph and adding in a bunch of sexual peccadilloes and innuendos, but only for a few chapters. (Which both made the characters inconsistent and made the plot inconsistent; Grahame-Smith's attempts to make the Lydia denouement still make sense in a world with looser sexual mores didn't hardly cut it. (And it was just badly done at the stitching level. I mean, if you're going to insert something saying somebody screwed around on their spouse, at least remove the sentence earlier in the paragraph that said that he didn't. (I hope he at least knew that's what Austen probably meant?)) The adultery and chintzy sexual humor would have been fine if better done and done from the beginning -- it just would have been a different sort of parody -- but it wasn't, so it was just jarring for it to start in the middle. We got the feeling Grahame-Smith just sort of felt a need to step it up right about there and that was the best he could think of. Generally, that kind of spottiness can be expected in a high-school spoof of great literature, but I was kind of hoping for better from a published work with such hoo-ha around it.
Really, all in all, I think he did decently well for most of it (except the middle where he got bored), it's just that I had such a great vision for how good it could have been... (Especially since it did start out pretty well.) But though we had mixed reactions to the story modifications, we unequivocally enjoyed the non-story additions; the illustrations were quite nicely done and captured the spirit of the blend, and the discussion questions at the end were quite funny.
On an Austen-side note, it is interesting how false it rang when Grahame-Smith tweaked certain things in relatively small ways that gave a character just slightly different motivations... Reminds one what a delicate construction the original was. Also interesting that most of the additions I found funniest or most interesting were the more subtle/human-interactional ones anyway. Yep, we were reading for the Austen.
(Read to me by Michael, with cokibbitzing along the way, hence the 'we'.)(less)
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Julia
is currently reading:
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Kafka's Soup: A Complete History of World Literature in 14 Recipes
by
Mark Crick
recommended to Julia by:
Paul George & Steffy Reader
read in August, 2011
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A very fun concept, executed reasonably well. Some of the authors' voices were more amenable to being turned to descriptions of cookery with comedic effect than others (and/or Crick was more able to figure out how to do some than others). I think it...more
A very fun concept, executed reasonably well. Some of the authors' voices were more amenable to being turned to descriptions of cookery with comedic effect than others (and/or Crick was more able to figure out how to do some than others). I think it worked best when he was able to take it just a little over the top, but sometimes he started to fall down the other side. In most cases, I was familiar with the author being pastiched, but not the exact work, which I think helped; when I had read the particular work (or, oddly enough, when I hadn't read anything of that author at all), I tended to be less enamored of the recipe. (The Chaucer one went a little wonky, but most Chaucer pastiches do.) Likewise, some the illustrations were more apropos than others, though they were all skillfully done. But overall, it was definitely amusing enough to be worth the relatively small time investment.
A practical note: Qua recipes, I don't think they'd be very helpful if one didn't already know how to cook; the exigencies of literary flow often resulted in some crypticness about process. But you can't have everything.(less)
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