Capturing the Past

I actually did it. As mentioned in this here blog recently, I sought out a book which I read as a preteen and enjoyed then, but hadn't read since. Against the Fall of Night by Arthur C. Clarke, if it's that much trouble to click on the embedded link. I had read it while eating Pringles and drinking Faygo Root Beer. As such, I bought a small supply of each along with a copy of the book off our dear friends at Amazon, taking all three items with me to Hessel in da U.P. a couple of weeks ago.

You what what? You can relive the past just a bit, even only a whiff, a mere hint of enjoyment. Sitting on the sofa up north while noshing Pringles and washing it down with Detroit's finest root beer, I did feel something like a young boy experiencing the book for the first time. 

To be honest, the story isn't exactly the greatest science fiction. I discovered that Clarke, something I did think about all those years ago, tended to drop names and facts into the narrative without explanation, as though I should have known them, and then never offered later background. The tale was also a bit too rushed. That was annoying. Yet it was adventurous and intriguing enough that I understand why a relative youngster just getting a taste for novels would like it.

And I did like it, despite the abruptness. You can go back, I will argue, even if only slightly. That's satisfying on its own level.

Impatient Reader

It's gradually taking me over, but I'm kicking and screaming all the while. I don't want to be dragged into the 21st Century. I'm still not really living in the 20th.

A friend and I were talking about reading yesterday. We both agreed that we still prefer by far actual printed tomes over ebooks. But I must confess (okay, maybe not must, but saying it that way sounds so dramatic) that I am increasingly appreciating ebooks.

They don't take up physical room. Well, duh. Seeing as I've accumulated boxes upon boxes of books which are increasingly getting in my way, it's good when you can have something that doesn't do that. But what's more, ebooks can be had immediately rather than in two to five days, so that when I want to read something particular now, this very minute, I can. And they're cheaper, which plays well with the Scotsman in me.

I can still make fun of the tight Scotsman, right? I'm not stepping on any important toes there? I won't be cancelled over it?

Anyway, ebooks feed my need to have something in my possession right now, this very moment. And that does have a charm and satisfaction of its own. Still, 21st Century, you're not taking me without a fight because, well, I'm Scottish. At least a little bit.

The War of the Words

It's December 31, 2017, the last day of the year. We're supposed to reminisce on such days, aren't we? Well, then, so as not to disappoint, I shall. And it all comes down to words.

I'm not really sure why the reading bug bit me so hard in 2017 but it did, so much so that much of what I did this past year was read. It was a grand, fulfilling endeavor.

The basic theme which developed could best be described as baseball and history. To the former I submit Ty Cobb, A Terrible Beauty which argued that, while not perfect, Cobb was not the ogre so many people believe of him. The Kid, a quite readable biography of the Splendid Splinter, Ted Williams, was engrossing though more crude than it needed to be (and how many books and movies can we say that of, eh?). Shades of Glory was my first real look at Negro League baseball, and a good look it was. Remembrances of Swings Past was okay yet too obviously ghost written. That was all topped off with an anthology, Great Baseball Writing, compiled from articles originally printed on the pages of Sports Illustrated over 50 years. Great stuff, if you're any kind of baseball wonk. And you should be some kind of baseball wonk, if you have any appreciation of America at all.

1944: FDR and the Year that Changed History was very good. The Arsenal of Democracy, about Detroit's role in World War II, was excellent, and I only got it at Christmas and have already read it through. It gave me a new appreciation for the effort necessary to win that war. I read David McCullough's biographies of John Adams and Harry Truman, both outstanding, though the trouble with biographies is that the hero always dies at the end. Rock of the Marne was also a very good read on how raw American troops single-handedly held off the Germans during the Second Battle of the Marne in World War I, stopping Crown Prince Wilhelm's 'Peace Offensive' and likely winning the war for the Allied nations.

On a more esoteric level I read Strange History, a collection of interesting yet mostly obscure incidences in human history, and The Inklings, a history of the great writers' group of that name from (mainly) the 1930s and 40s. It featured C. S. Lewis of Narnia fame and J. R. R. Tolkien of Hobbitdom. Those two really ought to have collaborated on a book.

All of this actually only scratches the surface. I can't recall everything I read off the top of my head, which included of course reading the Sunday paper and all kinds of (often tripe) online. But reading-wise 2017 was good to me. And now 2018 needs to step up its game and top that.

I wish I had read more

Many people say this, and I don't doubt that most truly believe it. But the older I get the more I wish I would have read more. I read a lot now but, unless I'm on a short vacation as I am as I write, I don't seem to have enough time to read all I want.

My reading tends to be almost random. For example, since Thursday I've read The Football Hall of Shame (a book about less than stellar or impressive events in the game), and Till We Have Faces, an novel by C. S. Lewis (the second time I've read it, and I liked it better this time). I read The Murderer is a Fox, a decent yet not the most satisfying of the Ellery Queen mysteries, and am nearly finished with Joe, Rounding Third and Heading for Home, a biography of Joe Nuxhall. He was a longtime Cincinnati Red both on the field and in the booth for the team. Did you know he was the youngest player ever to appear in a Major League Baseball game? He was 15 years and 316 days old when he pitched 2/3 of an inning for the Reds against the Cardinals. He was okay until the great Stan Musial lined a single to right off him and rattled him so bad that he walked 5 batters after that. But hey, even in war depleted baseball, for someone just shy of 16 to record two outs at that level of play is not bad at all. And I read the newspapers each day, becaise the Internet is spotty up here in Hessel, Michigan.

So I guess my taste in books qualifies as eclectic. I like mysteries of the more traditional type such as Sherlock Holmes, Ellery Queen, and Lord Peter Wimsey. I can devour most anything about baseball, and I adore C. S. Lewis. His The Abolition of Man is perhaps the greatest nonfiction work ever, quite frankly. Be that as it may, I'll finish this post and go grab a Sunday paper and read some more. And when I come back up north in about 8 weeks, I'll bring several books and start all over again.

So, my advice to you is read, and to read in different subject areas. I find it quite rewarding anyway; you never know what my tickle your fancy.