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Starting to lose the plot just as Ellsberg seems to be building up to the big twist: how American intelligence attempted to outsmart Soviets with the number of deaths they could deal out in the most dangerous game for the planet. The incident in Berlin proved how it wasn’t just me losing the plot, as the false firepower reported by Khrushchev sparked a vastly uneven arms race of four digits against just four ICBMs.

Very unlike most of Watts’ writing, where he hands over the authorial voice to ancient sages and storytellers, quoting passages at length from Lao-tzu, I Ching, Mahabharata and Bardo Thōdol that it seems a bit superfluous to have his name on the front of the book. However the off-kilter advice these quotes provide are important components of Watts’ worldview worthy of deep exploration.

What started off as a brisk account of decisive battles has expanded into Africa, geographically and in the length of chapters. These details, however, tell the readers less about Caesar, Labienus, Scipio and Juba other than sometimes you win, other times you lose. The most valuable item armies could hope to receive is corn and fresh water, sometimes sacrificing honour in order to hold out a bit longer than the foes.

What started off as a brisk account of decisive battles has expanded into Africa, geographically and in the length of chapters. These details, however, tell the readers less about Caesar, Lanienus and Sc

The sublime intelligence of Oyarsa determines that Earth is the Silent Planet all along and its devilish nature sprang from the Bent One cutting off humanity’s connection to the harmonious Heavens. Weston reveals exactly why other being should beware of our interplanetary intentions and Lewis proves himself an insightful interpreter of this not-too-distant future where we find ourselves in mid-twenty first century.

Hard to reconcile the mixed feelings that I have, on the one hand for a genuine plea by the author to have readers become more connected to family and the spirit realm, as well as approaching both with the intent on healing self and others. Yet something about this approach that combines behaviourist Time Outs with her judging ancestors’ actions and addictions in a way that would make the angels blush, feels wrong.

There is much to be sceptical about in Salicrow’s account of dying and grieving, particularly her family’s use of cannabis to enhance psychic senses; on the other hand, much that explains the otherwise unknown about the other side. Watching for signs and knowing that all is generally good for the departed loved ones has its easing effect on our troubled minds. Try not to get too high on your own spiritual supply.

Almost a mockery of the modern-day banner mission accomplished, the authors find many little events to describe even after “the last stages” in Egypt seem to have elapsed. A few more Cassiuses meet their untimely ends, as if the name were Richmonds haunting Richard at Bosworth Field that there be three Cassii in the field, and one more to act the part of Caesar’s evil spirit whom Julius shall see again in Rome.

Good move ditching Ransom’s insufferable captors as the story moves into the wilderness of Malachandra and takes a humane turn as Ransom hangs out with the hrossa. Naturally Lewis would make a philologist the bridge between two world, and in learning about Hyoi’s culture as he even touches on their spiritual wholesomeness only to be reminded in a few sorrowful seconds how horrible the hmāna usually are.

Getting a bit closer to the submarine capers of the 1990’s Ellsberg’s hunt for Eisenhower’s letter is starting to sound s bit like Gene Hackman’s repeated line in Crimson Tide to give him the key, combined with the mild-mannered analyst role Alec Baldwin played in The Hunt for Red October. In both film-fictional cases, the navy plays the heavy against the hero, just like it was for Ellsberg.

Picture a man with discernible good qualities: a bit of a loner and insufferable to others. And then he meets two others who are even less likeable, as if Devine and Weston each amplify these traits in Ransom. Living up to his name, the two unlikeable schemers kidnap him for a journey into the far reaches of our solar system. Even though he is kept in the dark as to their intent, he discovers heavenly light en route.

in addition to violating post-war agreements not to involve Japan in harbouring American nuclear weapons, the sneaky strategic command create a comforting plethora of acronyms to cover up their evil plan of obliterating Central Asia just on the mere suspicion that the Soviets might do something equally dastardly first. Ellsberg now rests in peace but a growing Chinese military won’t assure any lasting peace for us.

In his exuberance over bringing the civil war to a close, Caesar skips over some historically significant events: the burning of the Library of Alexandria is just a small incursion at the docks, his lover Cleopatra merely a rabble-rouser in the background, and the reinstatement of her brother Ptolemy like sending a naughty child off without dinner. Unlike Pompey (or later for Antony) Caesar finds fortune in the navy.

For an author opposed to the efficiency over imagination factor of schools, Murakami oddly has some scholastic choices as inspiring author like Fitzgerald and Salinger, books read in almost all high schools around the world. It tracks with his goal of becoming an international sensation while remaining a modest and sensible Japanese expat in love with these contradictions as his worldwide readers are with his enigma.

A far cry from the stoic meditativeness of Caesar’s much later namesake Marcus Aurelius, this account of the final battles is nevertheless a personal account of all the trouble caused by men supporting one cause over another. Almost as if Caesar was taking notes for his tragic sequel, shortly after Pompey sailed away to his doom, the battle of Pharsalus ends with Cassius (yes that guy) making an ignoble naval exit.

There are no heroes in the story about the failure of a society even as Scott overcomes his addiction and steadily works to regain his nursing credentials, the overall impression of Evicted is Arleen’s Sisyphean journey from one shoddy apartment to the next. Matthew offers a postscript to explain how the ethnographical sausage was made, appearing in the text as a car-owning friend, but kept his gaze on us.

The loneliness of a long distance novelist, described in terms of mind and body measured in time and amounts of good fortune. Murakami can only speak authoritatively about his work and life over the impressive thirty-year career, but did the homework to demonstrate his case of being the well-balanced Trollope or Kafka rather than an adventure junkie like Hemingway or the prolific poet Pushkin who only to sputter out.

The original source of Brecht’s Business Affairs of Mr Julius Caesar, the embattled consul makes an effort to explain (even getting personal with a “difficulties I have described” p. 113) the financial situation in Rome while most of the Mediterranean pays the true cost of the civil war. He and Pompey may barter for peace but the quickest way for either to balance their ledger is to destroy a squadron.

Taken from a statistical (and not surprisingly an economical) point of view, Ellsberg recounts his scary introduction to the truth about nuclear annihilation from the start of the Cold War up to the presidency of whatsisname currently being indicted for crimes (Daniel probably saw this event playing out too, hence this confession). Scariest part for him was how close to madness Dr. Strangelove genuinely was.

As close to a non-fiction confession of a novelist’s career as one can expect from Murakami, full of humbleness and introverted musings on jazz and Beatles music. He devised these lectures for nobody in particular and never gave them to a live audience. Is this his authentic self when he could be a cut-throat publishing machine fueled on rage over losing literary awards? It is Murakami as he wants to write himself.

The pages about Western battles begin to add more familiar names, despite some of them becoming conspirators at Caesar’s final “et tu,” as well as a constant sense of Caesar not present at many on these fronts sizing up the mettle of his lieutenants by their actions. Curio gives an extended speech to his soldiers urging them to stand their ground in Numidia; there’s a touch of irony in the last chapter title.

With popular culture’s latest fascination with Oppenheimer and the Compassionate Spy‘s take on modern menace plus the United States’ upcoming repeat of a civil war, it is refreshing to read about Ancient Roman warfare and its much more mundane civility. Even as he thrashes Domitius, Afranius and Petreius, Caesar still shows mercy to soldiers yet he does not shy away from personal pity of why always me!

So many historical figures mentioned so casually in the famous third-person narration. Caesar’s account of the western world’s shattering has equal parts deadly deniability of a mafia don with the catty vindictiveness of a junior high school bully. No signs yet of Pompey being Great nor Caesar becoming ambitious. Almost as if the whole civil war was merely a misunderstanding of policy and estimated arrival dates.

Playing fast and loose with the social-justice climate of the Pacific Northwest, Egan has Curtis taking on the revered American legend of General Custer more than a century before others were calling to pull down statues of the coward. Later chapters remember the northern parts of North America, Canada, yet diminish Nanook’s place in film history with a quickie docu-drama in our own Queen Charlotte Strait backyard.

This is not the greatest book in the world, oh no, this is a tribute. Curtis’ work photographing the vanishing Indigenous cultures of North America might be remarkable in literary and ethnographic history but right now it is a mere “big idea” struggling to get off the ground. The actual story is about the movers and shakers at the turn of the twentieth century who led the way, none of the men native themselves.

A lot of lonely, awkward Christmas celebrations lined up to mark Gina’s break with Seán and much like the holiday that promises merriment for months in advance, this extramarital fling came and went with only a Boxing Day sense of exhaust lingering in an empty house put up for sale. Evie, a sweet child somewhere on the spectrum, has an ill-omened impact on her parent’s marriage like a carol heard once too often.

Maia’s first book end’s unambiguously with mysteries of Ungit an undignified fib that spins a story about the Queen of Glome (and the nearly forgotten Queen of Phars, Redival) being jealous tormentors of Psyche. Book Two takes a more metaphysical journey where all relationships are called into question, and “no answer” transmuted into something the older Orual might have finally understood, a truth she faced.

Time gets compressed between the two major events that should have shaped Gina’s narrated life: her mother dies and her sister (followed by the rest of Dublin) discovers the affair. While the dust settles within the seven month period (or is it two years?), the truly daunting event almost goes by unnoticed, decreased property values during an economic downturn. How will life go on is replaced by who’d buy a home?

Halfway through the novel and not one single waltz mentioned, not even a hint of Strauss or even Tennessee with all the clever use of song lyrics for each chapter. Perhaps the author forgot to write this part in? Or more likely the metaphor of a two-person dance that ignores the significant others, Aileen and Conor, in favour of the more sexy swingers Gina and Seán who, at this point, are stuck in reverse fleckerls.

Life at the office with an affair embarked upon is told in the same casual tone as other social gatherings. Both Seán and Gina are good at their nondescript jobs bringing the Internet to all parts of Europe so it seems there is an ill-fated design with cuckolded Conor spending more time gazing at his computer screen than lusting for his wife. As many adulterous stories go, the system failures are always user errors.