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What Are We Reading? 1 February 2021
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Feb 02, 2021 01:59PM
Finished “A Little History of Poetry” by John Carey. Highly recommended, and thank you to CCC for first mentioning it. In an easy straight-talking style he covers a wonderful range and introduces you invitingly to the many poets whose names you know but whose work you don’t. One particular pleasure for me was the discovery of “A Musical Instrument” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, a pagan poem with brute rhythms, quite a surprise from EBB.
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"(Your book(s) wanted to write you a pers..."
hahahaha, its classic isnt it?
a covid lockdown spirit lifter,well done by betterwordbooks, someone in dunfirmline has a sense of humour


I think " strawberry blonde" is the description you are looking for :)"
i think at 44 it is more that colour, it was much much redder as a kid, never ginger, more a kind of coppery/rusty sheen
(my grandad was a redhead but went totally blonde by 44 and obviously grey by the time i knew him)


superb!

Sheesh, of course you had already said it! When I re-read your post today I've missed the reference, but I did see it on Sunday. Anyway, yes, I think it's a bit hopeful. No clue what shape it'll take though, and if with Sam. I selfishly hope more of the same, I'm not great with change! Re staff, it's a reference to the fact that there's some major reshuffling going on at the G, which is why the Book section is looking quite depleted while this is going on.
Re poetry, mazette, that is quite the book you have, careful not to damage your wrists (nothing untoward)! We had to learn Ronsard at school, not so much Labé. I haven't thought of French poetry in quite a while sadly... I am quite conventional in that Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal or Paul Éluard's Capitale de la douleur contained some of my favourite poems. But I also liked the other contemporary ones to Éluard such as Philippe Soupault, or René Char. I also quoted Victor Segalen to nsz in the past. You might enjoy this website which is easy to navigate (terrible mise en page of the poems though): https://www.poemes.co/rien.html

I'd like that very much! Ok, admittedly I still have not read Jane Eyre - I now have a physical copy at least - but I've always had a soft spot for thermodynamics. You can tell that to your Moon and Sixpence mate when you get to see him! (I enjoyed that email, it's a fun gesture.)

I am claiming the 'privilege', grudgingly afforded to us Germans, to call a spade a spade:
your posts are, more often than not, offensive to some.
You demand people apologise, for no obvious reason (49).
You all but call people who do not agree with you 'racist'(91).
Everybody can see the trajectory you are on.
"More of your conversation would infect my brain."
Ganz Super. Du hat von "keine ahnung was "es" bedeutete", zu diese "Cancel Culture" Tirade innerhalb von 24 Stunden gegangen?
Sehr imponierend.
Georg, ich darf für das argumentieren was ich glaube drin: Gleichheit - eigentlich Unsichtbarkeit - von Rassen.
Dass du sich dabei gegen mich stellen nehme ich als Kompliment.
Ich glaube du hat das verstanden...

No. I've never indicated any such view."
Let me help you Sydney: ""The novel is full of race-related gags that would be offensive if a white person wrote them"
Do you understand, that this statement makes it impossible for a white writer to honestly portray black people as a black author would see them, and be acceptable? that "only a black author can write about black characters", unless the white writer stays within certain boundaries - namely, the black characters cannot say anything controversial, and must adhere to what we can call "acceptable stereotypes" ?
Is it unreasonable to paraphrase it as: All authors are equal, as long as a white author writes only certain black characters, saying certain things..?
Do you not see the hypocrisy in that? and isn't racism, at root, nothing more or less than the exact same hypocrisy?


Yes, it was good to see science in action, wasn't it? I ..."
Hushpuppy wrote: "AB76 wrote (#57): "i was more referring to the science of the cadaver dogs section of the plot and the tides/current etc"
Yes, it was good to see science in action, wasn't it? I kept mumbling "tak..."
I agree wholeheartedly.Those wonderful dogs!
I hated The Serpent on the BBC recently for the very reasons that you and others give, a pair of commonplace little crooks who murdered for money were made to look clever, sophisticated and glamorous.

I'd like that very much! Ok, admittedly I s..."
lol....that book will always have an identity now.....Maugham himself would be chuckling i'm sure

I would include the stage production of Warhorse in that very small catergory of a genuinly anti - war productions. I saw it in Birmingham, there was a prolonged moment of silence before the well deserved standing ovation.


As i have got older Southern California and LA intrigue me more than they did in my youth and these essays focus on that state and the world of mid to late 1960s californian life. Didion is a good writer, i will certainly be returning to her non-fiction soon
the last essay, of the heat and unsettling atmosphere of a Santa Ana wind in LA has the amusing anecdote of a large woman following Didion round a market, indignant that she was wearing a bikini to the market.....Didion remains aloof from such attentions

I find it offensive that as a writer, I c..."
AB76 wrote: "Tam wrote: "scarletnoir wrote: "Harry wrote: "Justine wrote: "The novel is full of race-related gags that would be offensive if a white person wrote them"
I find it offensive that as a writer, I c..."
AB76 wrote: "Tam wrote: "AB76 wrote: "Tam wrote: "scarletnoir wrote: "Harry wrote: "Justine wrote: "The novel is full of race-related gags that would be offensive if a white person wrote them"
I find it offens..."
AB76 wrote: "Tam wrote: "scarletnoir wrote: "Harry wrote: "Justine wrote: "The novel is full of race-related gags that would be offensive if a white person wrote them"
I find it offensive that as a writer, I c..."
Hi, redhead here, pity my son who has brown hair but if he dosen't shave for a day looks as though he has smeared his chin with marmalade!

Thank you - I'll add that to the TBR list :) The elements of Noonday which covered his relationship with his parents (esp his mum) intrigued me, so that sounds good. Thanks again.

I find it offensive that as ..."
lol....thats great, i have a few friends with very blonde hair, whose beards are bright red.....

Not from Shelflife, but I've posted a poem in A Place for A Poem. I recently picked up Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal, which I studied many many years ago, and found on in there.

And:
I am frankly mystified as to why you should enjoy watching completely fictional police procedurals, but baulk at the examination of the life of a real serial killer. Anyway, I found both the TV series and the book very absorbing, so it's your loss I suppose.
On the first point: I am mystified that you say that I 'fail to mention' Jason Watkins. I made it clear that I had not watched the programme! I only know of David Tennant's appearance through a glance at a newspaper article, and a glimpse of a trailer.
On the second point: many serial killers have huge egos - they will be delighted at the thought that books will be written about their 'exploits', and that the prurient will sit down to 'enjoy' TV programmes detailing exactly what they did. So, that's one reason for 'my loss' in not watching that programme.
I understand that The Investigation takes a different line by excluding the murderer altogether, but I'm still uneasy about the idea of real-life murders of the recent past - where friends and relatives are still around - being re-enacted in this way. I'll think about that one... and I did watch, and find fascinating, a programme on the first use of DNA profiling to identify a murderer. I suppose, if the focus is on the forensic science aspects, I can watch such programmes; when the focus is on the murderer, I can't - or don't want to.
On the other hand - I did watch during a period of insomnia a documentary showing the murder squad in Glasgow (I think) finding forensic evidence, then arresting and interviewing the murderer. Nothing glamorous about any of that - no big-name actors. Grimy, messy, hard work. Real people.
(You may consider some of this inconsistent, but who says we humans have to be consistent all the time?)
As for fiction - this comes in all shapes and sizes. Dramas involving violence and murder can be thrillers; they can also at times be very funny. I would not want to either be 'thrilled', or to laugh, at a depiction of a real crime of that sort.

my next non-fiction is Northern Irish too, though by author not setting, it is "Suprised By Joy" by CS Lewis, which covers his younger years and its a autobiography of sorts dealing with his finding his Anglican faith again
I read all the Narnia as a child but in adulthood, his non-fiction has been consistently interesting and thought provoking

Of course you could, and hardly a..."
That's a very good and detailed argument, Mach.

On the second point: many serial killers have huge egos - they will be delighted at the thought that books will be written about their 'exploits', and that the prurient will sit down to 'enjoy' TV programmes detailing exactly what they did. So, that's one reason for 'my loss' in not watching that programme.And how do you know that? You are begging the question, asserting that which you seek to establish. Masters was at pains to make the point that not much is known about what makes these people tick; the alternative is that they become serial killers purely by chance, which is pretty scary.
If you think I'm prurient I suppose that's my loss.

It has often been claimed that serial killers have 'huge egos', but I don't feel like digging into Dr Google to stand up that claim. If it interests you to do so, by all means dig up counter-claims.
FWIW, I get really sick of seeing "Why, oh why?" pieces in the papers when one of these people is caught... usually, there isn't an explanation (or not one). What you get is a lot of futile speculation.
I have no interest whatsoever in either reading a book, or seeing a TV programme, where these people are front and centre. You probably know that Nilsen was caught, not by some super-sophisticated forensic process, but because the drains at his flat became blocked and neighbours complained. In the immortal words of Wikipedia: "Nilsen's murders were first discovered by a Dyno-Rod employee, Michael Cattran, who responded to the plumbing complaints made by both Nilsen and other tenants of Cranley Gardens on 8 February 1983."
So - no interesting science there. IF Nilsen had 'reasons' for what he did, then I'd assume it would be very wise to take anything he said with a large pinch of salt. If he didn't - even less reason to read/watch/whatever. He clearly was no mastermind, if he himself complained to Dyno-Rod!
But - I've said it before, and I'll say it again - we're all different, have different interests, different preferences, different views - and different levels of intestinal fortitude. I would never suggest to someone else that they ought/ought not read/view something... just comment on my own reaction to it, with a recommendation. Not quite the same thing.

i think hubris plays a part, these killers like Nilsen, Bundy, Sutcliffe or others gain confidence as they kill without detection, it becomes almost part of their lives and then their "routine" becomes dangerous for their own freedoms, they get careless and sloppy. Saying that, chance plays a part too as well, where a murder that was committed due to some chance happenings going right becomes a murder detected by similar chance happenings going wrong

I think that at the time I first heard of this title, the writer who mentioned it pointed out its double meaning in that Lewis' wife, wed relatively late in his life, was Joy Davidman, who, to my continuing surprise, was formerly wed to William Lindsay Gresham, author of Nightmare Alley.



If you haven't read it already, you might find Hunting Humans: The Rise of the Modern Multiple Murderer of interest, as I think it confirms the hubris aspect. The author, Elliot Leyton, was an anthropologist and tried to look at serial killers and mass murderers as a group , or two subsets of one, and to see what if any common characteristics he could find from that perspective.
Although I was just saying not long ago that I didn't like true crime books that end up glamourising the killer, I think this was a good one that mostly evaded that pitfall, perhaps because of its more global approach.
But I must admit that I've enjoyed things like Helter Skelter too, which would be very much the kind of thing I was saying I disliked before, so I can't make any claims to consistancy.

This is really interesting, Paul.
I think my own preference tends to be for novels that are full of ideas, plots and memorable characters (David Mitchell, Louis de Bernieres, Vikram Seth, Richard Powers, Kamila Shamsie, Hilary Mantel). With some of these authors, can come at the expenseof breathing space (Franzen, Powers to some extent).
By contrast, there are those quieter novels, with more ambiguity - like woodblock prints, to use your lovely description from a while back. Some, like Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont and Plainsong, I've loved. But others, like The Blue Flower and So Long, See You Tomorrow left me cold. I could see that they were well-written and good, but they didn't move me.
Do you think a tendency to enjoy the latter develops as you grow older or is it just a question of taste? I must admit to feeling a bit unrefined for not loving Penelope Fitzgerald yet!


thanks for that Bill...i didnt know that

I'm feeling a bit unrefined for disliking Anna Karenina...

Are you reading it in English or German, Georg?
I read it in the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation and, while I enjoyed parts, I felt I was missing something. Having adored War and Peace in the Briggs translation and enjoyed several other books of Russian literature far more in non-P&V translations, I've made it a policy to avoid P&V from now on. (Usual caveats about translation being subjective, others liking P&V etc.)
AlbyBeliever wrote: " I must admit to feeling a bit unrefined for not loving Penelope Fitzgerald yet!..."
Is The Blue Flower the only of PF's you've read? If so, I hope you'll try a few others (especially The Beginning of Spring) before giving up on her.
Is The Blue Flower the only of PF's you've read? If so, I hope you'll try a few others (especially The Beginning of Spring) before giving up on her.
Lljones wrote: "AlbyBeliever wrote: " I must admit to feeling a bit unrefined for not loving Penelope Fitzgerald yet!..."
Is The Blue Flower the only of PF's you've read? If so, I hope you'll try a few others (es..."
I agree. Although I like The Blue Flower, I think one can well enjoy other books of hers while disliking that one.
Is The Blue Flower the only of PF's you've read? If so, I hope you'll try a few others (es..."
I agree. Although I like The Blue Flower, I think one can well enjoy other books of hers while disliking that one.

It is. And I was so convinced I'd like Fitzgerald that I bought several of her novels from charity shops, despite not having read anything by her. Other people do that, right? Please tell me that I'm not the only maniac...
So I've got The Beginning of Spring, Offshore, The Bookshop and The Gate of Angels. I'll start with The Beginning of Spring and report back!

Are you reading it in English or German, Georg?
I read it in the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation and, while I enjoyed ..."
Nothing to do with the translation, Alby. I just didn't like Tolstoys women at all. AK, not conforming to norms of society, was killed by Tolstoy in the end ( for not being virtuous enough, I suspect). Well, she was bad enough, all emotion, as women are /sarc off. But the character I came to hate most was her antidote, the wholesome Kitty.
I've read AK about 25 years ago and have no desire whatsoever to reread it.

A story I've told before: well over 30 years ago I read Flaubert's Parrot and then went out and bought all of Flaubert's work then available in Penguin editions. I still haven't read a word of Flaubert...


It is. And I was so convinced I'd like Fitzgerald that I bought several of her novels fro..."
Yeah, I did the same thing. I bought her Modern Library collected novels without ever having read her, which was a leap of faith. I do enjoy her, as she really is a master of those empty spaces, so it was fortunate for me. Fitzgerald, Tom Drury, Willy Vlautin, and a few others are like orchestral pieces with large rests. The trumpet player comes in for three measures and the tympanist gets in a roll, and it's back to the oboe and the cello duking it out. Very understated, sort of an inverted Wuthering Heights where so much emotion and thought is contained underneath the page and only just barely glimpsed by a hesitant handshake or a non-commital laugh. Will Eaves's Murmur is a masterly crafted example of these unwritten statements.
I definitely think that that's a taste that has grown as I've gotten older (not more mature, let's not make that mistake). My 20s were mostly passed reading Chuck Pahlaniuk and Han Solo novels, so things change, but my younger, inner reading voice needed far more cacophony and traffic noise in order to drown out the other noise bouncing around my brain. Now taht my neurotransmitters have settled into their low-key groove, I think sparsity and simplicity have just harmonized better with me. Which is probably why I've become such a big fan of short stories.
That being said, there are authors who do a far stronger job of filling a vast narrative, and I love them equally as much but only at the right moment. David Mitchell and Hilary Mantel are great examples. I've yet to find the wrong moment for David Mitchell (although I'm a little bit skittish about his latest novel).
I think Franzen was too much, too over-stuffed, too kvetchy as my Gramma would have called him. Instead of the woodcut, you got Jackson Pollock at his most rage-filled.

You are not alone. I read "the Beginning of Spring". I know it has a big following here but unfortunately it didn't do anything for me. I felt I had missed something when I finished it.
You'd wouldn't know it by my postings here, but I have managed a bit of reading in the last few weeks, sprinkled here and there between insurrections, inaugurations, impeachments, etc.
I mentioned Percival Everett's Telephone a few weeks ago; also mentioned the publishing 'twist' to this particular title - three slightly-varying versions were published simultaneously. Once I knew this, I stopped looking at any reviews or publishing buzz about the book, not wanting to be otherwise influenced by such buzz. I did note, when I picked up the book from the bookstore, these blurbs on Everett's previous title, So Much Blue:
I imagined Everett saying to himself "Triptych, you say? I'll show you a triptych!' before penning Telephone.
Anyway, I finished the book (I read the 'C' version, or the one with the southeast-pointing compass on the cover). I enjoyed this book as much as I did So Much Blue, all the way through to the abrupt and very unsatisfying end. I still haven't read much else about the three versions, but what little I've seen says I'm not the only one who felt this way, regardless of which version was read. I don't expect this book to advance very far in the ToB coming up in March, but the discussion about it should be entertaining.
Next up came Jane Smiley’s Perestroika in Paris. I ran right out and bought it in hardcover as soon as I heard about it (because I loved Horse Heaven so much, and despite my pledge to not buy any books while I’m still sitting in a house surrounded by 6000 books). My hesitations began within just a few pages. Here we have a story of a racehorse, a dog, a crow, some mallards and (eventually, apparently) an 8-year-old boy. I paused to check reviews, to verify that this was indeed meant for an adult audience. Saw many positive reviews (“Well, that was a fun, cleanse the palate after an insurrection kind of read!”) and thought to myself “If anyone can pull this off, it’s Jane Smiley”. Forty pages later, I had to concede that this book was not for me, not at this time anyway.
On to something darker from my brother’s shelves: When the Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka. This sparse, harrowing, evocative, flawless story of a Japanese-American family evacuated to internment camps during WWII is … divine. I highly recommend it.
Now I’m splitting my time between Saint Maybe (I know I’ve told people I read this when it was published in 1991, but 175 pages into it, it still feels new to me) and Why Bob Dylan Matters (bought this when I was still with Lucia, but boxed it up without reading it). More on both of these titles later.
I mentioned Percival Everett's Telephone a few weeks ago; also mentioned the publishing 'twist' to this particular title - three slightly-varying versions were published simultaneously. Once I knew this, I stopped looking at any reviews or publishing buzz about the book, not wanting to be otherwise influenced by such buzz. I did note, when I picked up the book from the bookstore, these blurbs on Everett's previous title, So Much Blue:
So Much Blue is essentially three books in one...
So Much Blue works like a shattered triptych, or perhaps like an elaborate game of three-card monte...
I imagined Everett saying to himself "Triptych, you say? I'll show you a triptych!' before penning Telephone.
Anyway, I finished the book (I read the 'C' version, or the one with the southeast-pointing compass on the cover). I enjoyed this book as much as I did So Much Blue, all the way through to the abrupt and very unsatisfying end. I still haven't read much else about the three versions, but what little I've seen says I'm not the only one who felt this way, regardless of which version was read. I don't expect this book to advance very far in the ToB coming up in March, but the discussion about it should be entertaining.
Next up came Jane Smiley’s Perestroika in Paris. I ran right out and bought it in hardcover as soon as I heard about it (because I loved Horse Heaven so much, and despite my pledge to not buy any books while I’m still sitting in a house surrounded by 6000 books). My hesitations began within just a few pages. Here we have a story of a racehorse, a dog, a crow, some mallards and (eventually, apparently) an 8-year-old boy. I paused to check reviews, to verify that this was indeed meant for an adult audience. Saw many positive reviews (“Well, that was a fun, cleanse the palate after an insurrection kind of read!”) and thought to myself “If anyone can pull this off, it’s Jane Smiley”. Forty pages later, I had to concede that this book was not for me, not at this time anyway.
On to something darker from my brother’s shelves: When the Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka. This sparse, harrowing, evocative, flawless story of a Japanese-American family evacuated to internment camps during WWII is … divine. I highly recommend it.
Now I’m splitting my time between Saint Maybe (I know I’ve told people I read this when it was published in 1991, but 175 pages into it, it still feels new to me) and Why Bob Dylan Matters (bought this when I was still with Lucia, but boxed it up without reading it). More on both of these titles later.

I'm glad I'm not the only one who binge buys! 😀

Thank you so much for your post # 108!
I agree on not wanting any change in that regard - back to the advantages of the olden days (and some disadvantages, too, possibly)!
And thank you again so much for keeping us up to date regarding a possible return or new start.
Thanks for the poem recommendations, in fact I look forward to approaching the 19th and 20th centuries, though it will be a while still. We did read some extraits of Les Fleurs du Mal ("L'Albatros", for example) in school, where I took French as one specialist subject for the A-levels. Also, I bought some Rambo (to put it sort-of phonetically) in Arles, I think, during my fervent, if not so much misspent youth.
My back tells me I'd better get a move on... Let the music play.
So have a great evening, everyone!

This sentence sparked my interest. Do our tastes really change as we age?
I still read detective stories, novels, classics, non-fiction of many varieties just as I did when a young adult.
But maybe there is a subtle change for my tolerance of mediocre writing skills has decreased and my criticism of nonsense increased.
What made me start to wonder about this? I think it was reading some of your posts about politics and wars of the past; I confess I don’t want to read about them in books. It has crossed my mind to wonder
why a shudder passes through at the thought of having to read them. Short extracts from wiki are usually enough to answer any questions that I have.
Is it because that one learns that things change and what seems Earth shatteringly important at one time slithers out of our memories in time, only recalled at odd unexpected intervals.
Do we become more worldly wise with age, less tolerant of stupidity and intolerance? Do we want our reading material to reflect our understanding?
It’s only in the last couple of years that this change has come to my notice. Maybe it simply an acceptance of age.

So happy to see mention of Julie Otsuka! And this is one I haven't yet read.

This sentence sparked my interest. Do our tastes really ch..."
I would say that they definitely do change over time. I read a lot of 'pony book' fiction as a child, as I really wanted to have a horse in my life. I eventually aquired a horse, and it was nothing like the fictional portrayal of having a loyal 'horsey' friend by your side... She was a pain... mostly. So I would never go back to that genre of fiction. Likewise I read a lot of Monica Dickens books, I'm not sure any one would know of her these days. 'Little women' was there in the mix, and stories of being at a Swiss boarding school (a fantasy that I apparently shared, for very different reasons, with the poet Philip Larkin!...) I have no desire to go back there at all. I read a lot of classics at school, but mostly never read again. Still I am mostly glad for having read them, at the time. Some stuff has stayed with me, such as my appreciation for SF short stories, though I think they were better in the 60's, to what they are now, (too much fantasy, to my taste, these days) and not enough pushing scientific theories/ideas to the fore.
Also the books that I adored as a late teenager, have not really stood the test of time, such as 'The Magus' by John Fowles, so I think on the whole I think we do begin to be a lot more discriminating as we age. But whole genres can escape our attention. I don't think I have ever read a murder mystery book, though I have caught up with quite a lot of film versions of them. When I think back to my memory of my annoying horse, Sappho, "it's horses for courses" I quess!... but there are a few treasured memories in the mix as well, such as when I saw her lying down in the field and letting a five year old girl sit on her back, and happily plait her mane... I think she just didn't like adults very much at all...
But as to now, I don't think my interests are changing very much, as my world has shrunk, being a retired person, and certainly under lockdown there is not much 'newness' entering in to it. I'm certainly willing to see new 'stuff', and have new encounters with the world. It's, alas, just not that likely to turn up on my door step, in a N Bucks village... I am longing for lockdown to end... safely, as I might go a bit bananas in the aftermath!...

Monica Dickens, that’s the One Pair of hands or One Pair of fee lady which I enjoyed as a teenager. I think she is still in print. I am rather nervous of horses and I think they sense that.
Some books that I read when young and have read again and not been disappointed, off hand recently reread Eric Ambler. In the end maybe it’s simply the quality of the writing that counts.

I will be forever grateful to tls and here for bringing new authors to my attention. Take a bow folks.

You probably know that Nilsen was caught, not by some super-sophisticated forensic process, but because the drains at his flat became blocked and neighbours complained.No need to be patronising, thank you; unlike you I have watched the show and read the book, not been reduced to Wikipedia to satisfy my curiosity. Anyway everybody concerned is dead, so what does it all matter?


In other news, I have just finished watching Spiral, the final series. I now have a Gilou-shaped hole in my life (I almost typed bed, Freudian and wishful slip). Well worth a watch if you haven't seen it, and good for making you think you remember your smattering of French.
Also slightly in love with Keith, the strapping crying judge on the Pottery Throwdown. I'd say it'd wear thin after a while, all that crying over one's jugs.
Adieu...

I watched "England’s Tudor Reformation" given by Alec Ryrie this morning. So thought provoking that I will be sure to watch again once it is added to his page at Gresham College. As a devoted fan of C J Sansom's Shardlake series, I was interested the nuances that he brought up. One was that Catherine was NO shrinking violet.
Not so interesting is the fact that Henry once again reminded me of Trump - the main difference being - Henry got away with it, but perhaps his helpers were smarter!
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