What Are You Reading

[Tiki Tom]

Thirty pages into “Far from the Madding Crowd” by Thomas Hardy. (1874)
Go away, Mr Darcy. Forget Mr Rochester.
Gabriel Oak is the new contender.

 

[Harp]

Thirty pages into “Far from the Madding Crowd” by Thomas Hardy. (1874)
Go away, Mr Darcy. Forget Mr Rochester.
Gabriel Oak is the new contender.

Idiosyncrasy and vicissitude had combined to stamp Sergeant Troy as an exceptional being.
He was a man to whom memories were an inconvenience, and anticipation a superfluity. Simply feeling, considering, and caring for what was before his eyes, he was vulnerable only in the present.

Chapter **V The New Acquaintance
Described

Bathsheba Everdene may have delighted male torturous pursuit of her; though, inexplicably she failed
infliction the liberal campi wrath upon Hardy that Emma Bovary cursed Flaubert.

Afterwards, please submit your reasoned acquaintance this mistress, and her ladyship's elusiveness
said avoidance any iota campus bias charge. And what of Constance Chatterley's libidinous flight of Icarus
moth against flame? With war invalid spouse Sisyphean cursed, seated ambulatory chair. DH Lwrence
none the wiser, nor subject scorned campi lectern. These women open doors they leave ajar our ******ism....

 

[Trenchfriend]

Because of my current mental condition, I'm still in Gregg Hurwitz - Orphan X (vol.1), but at least it's getting forward.
I also recently got Emily Brontë - Wuthering Heights and Jules Verne - Aroung The World In 80 Days.

 

[Harp]

Because of my current mental condition, I'm still in Gregg Hurwitz - Orphan X (vol.1), but at least it's getting forward.
I also recently got Emily Brontë - Wuthering Heights and Jules Verne - Aroung The World In 80 Days.

Take care of yourself Trench, all trevails pass.

Heathcliff loved Catherine, and, whatever his faults and foibles, his anguished bereavement stands enduring testament the human heart.

 

[Fading Fast]

Bonjour Tristesse by Françoise Sagan, first published in 1954


It can be hard to separate out the author, Françoise Sagan, from her first book, Bonjour Tristesse, but art has to stand on its own, which this short novel more than does, despite all the brouhaha over its eighteen-year-old author at the time of its publication.

The novel's seventeen-year-old protagonist, Cécile, is a pretty and shrewd teenager who lives with her wealthy, widowed, pl*yboy father, Raymond. They are spending their summer at a chalet on the Riviera... along with Raymond's young, current mistress, Elsa.

Wrong by the moral standards of that day, the three are having a wonderful time sunning, drinking, partying, and going out to casinos at night. Since Elsa is closer in age to Cécile than to Raymond, and despite not being in Cécile's intellectual league, the two girls have a nice friendship.

Had Sagan stopped here, it would have made a fun short story, but novels need conflict, so enter Anne, a friend of Raymond's deceased wife, whom Raymond invited to visit. Anne – pretty, Raymond's age, and a successful businesswoman – will, by her presence alone, stir the pot.

It is one big stir as soon enough Elsa will be looking for new lodgings and Raymond and Anne will be engaged, something that Cécile pings back and forth about from here on out. Like most teenagers, she hates Anne one minute and loves her the next.

The scene where Elsa is cut loose is so cold and maturely written, one assumes Sagan had seen some version of it happen in her life, as otherwise, one wonders how many eighteen-year-olds could imagine it so poignantly out of whole cloth.

Anne then starts parenting, which Cécile isn't completely against, until Anne tries to make her study for school and stop seeing Cyril, the handsome boyfriend from the nearby chalet. Almost in retaliation – and also because she wants to – Cécile has her first s*xual encounter with Cyril.

From there, they go at it like rabbits, but somehow, Cécile doesn't seem all that changed by the experience, other than that she likes it – so she's a normal teenager. Still, it's pretty racy stuff for the 1950s, even in libertine France, which still had some of its Catholic overlay pressing down.

Cécile then half-hatches, half-acts on, half-feels bad about, and half-tries not to complete a plan to jettison Anne from her and her father's life. It's a vicious little scheme that does not reflect well on Cécile, but most teenagers have vicious corners of their minds... like most people.

While Cécile is haltingly executing her plan, you realize the plan is less important, as the real story here is the growth, or lack thereof, of Cécile. She tells us she's two years out of convent school (not unusual for that time and place) and has spent those two years with Raymond.

Whatever you think of her, going from a strict school to life with the French Hugh Hefner does not make for good character training. Cécile is now a potent combination of outward confidence and inward insecurity all guided by a wobbly moral gyroscope.

Intentional or not, that is the real story, or theme, or thing that made the book different and successful, and turned it into a major motion picture. It also made the author an international celebrity – and all of it is hoisted up by nothing more than a hundred-plus pages of wide-set type.

Yes, Raymond is interesting, and you even feel something for Elsa, but the only other character that truly affects you is Anne, who, for all her poise, is still a single, middle-aged woman afraid of becoming an old maid (using a term and cultural reality of the day).

That all this insight and carefully crafted story – told in flashbacks – came out of an eighteen-year-old – most of whom are still having their scribbles graded by teachers – argues for God-given talent and a preternatural maturity, which also helps explain the ensuing international fame.

Sagan is not Cécile, but there are overlaps. The author herself went on to write dozens of novels and plays, while gaining notoriety in the international set. Still, her most famous novel was her first, perhaps titled to foreshadow just a bit, her writing career, Bonjour Tristesse.


N.B. Bonjour Tristesse, as noted, was made into an outstanding movie in 1958 starring Jean Serberg, David Niven, and Deborah Kerr. Comments on the movie here: #32,388

 

[Tiki Tom]

^^^^^
Being a Francophile (I don’t know how that came about. Hemingway?), I would certainly pick this one up if I saw it. Not the first time that I have heard of it. Thanks.

 

[Fading Fast]

^^^^^
Being a Francophile (I don’t know how that came about. Hemingway?), I would certainly pick this one up if I saw it. Not the first time that I have heard of it. Thanks.

You're welcome. It's really short; you can read it in a long afternoon, but well worth it. I enjoyed it and the movie.

 

[Harp]

Sarah Bakewell's At The Existentialist Cafe; freedom, being, and apricot cocktails
with
Jean-Paul Sartre*Simone de Beauvoir*Albert Camus*Martin Heidegger*Edmund Husserl*Karl Jaspers*
Maurice Merleau Ponty

Pretense and philosophy don't mix well, although like socialism applied economics in the abstract petri dish of rose colored lens liberalism, many try only to retreat pragmatism's unyielding truth. Bakewell's book appeared a decade ago, and, I recall snapping it up after a New York Times review. Hurriedly devoured; yet, preoccupied at that time with whatever pressed moment, Bakewell was unceremoniously discarded. Neither joker nor jack or jill, but exigent victim. Now, ten years later, afforded a second look, here goes with sole single proviso that little of what has emerged European; particularly French philosophy, circa 1918 forward present impresses me.
And derived individual source subject an admittedly vitriolic personal examine without mercy. ''What fools these mortals be,'' aptly sums my perspective gained maturity, and judged most severely.

And Bakewell herself will be assessed for content and whatever emerges credible individual perspective.
She has done a Montaigne that I am not familiar with, and, I've largely forgotten her and my earlier exposure to Cafe, so she's tabula rasa all things considered.

 

[LightenUpFrancis]

It's been pushed down my list for years, and I finally picked today to dive in: The Age of Spiritual Machines by Ray Kurzweil.

 

[Harp]

View attachment 785352
Bonjour Tristesse by Françoise Sagan, first published in 1954


It can be hard to separate out the author, Françoise Sagan, from her first book, Bonjour Tristesse, but art has to stand on its own, which this short novel more than does, despite all the brouhaha over its eighteen-year-old author at the time of its publication.

The novel's seventeen-year-old protagonist, Cécile, is a pretty and shrewd teenager who lives with her wealthy, widowed, pl*yboy father, Raymond. They are spending their summer at a chalet on the Riviera... along with Raymond's young, current mistress, Elsa.

Wrong by the moral standards of that day, the three are having a wonderful time sunning, drinking, partying, and going out to casinos at night. Since Elsa is closer in age to Cécile than to Raymond, and despite not being in Cécile's intellectual league, the two girls have a nice friendship.

Had Sagan stopped here, it would have made a fun short story, but novels need conflict, so enter Anne, a friend of Raymond's deceased wife, whom Raymond invited to visit. Anne – pretty, Raymond's age, and a successful businesswoman – will, by her presence alone, stir the pot.

It is one big stir as soon enough Elsa will be looking for new lodgings and Raymond and Anne will be engaged, something that Cécile pings back and forth about from here on out. Like most teenagers, she hates Anne one minute and loves her the next.

The scene where Elsa is cut loose is so cold and maturely written, one assumes Sagan had seen some version of it happen in her life, as otherwise, one wonders how many eighteen-year-olds could imagine it so poignantly out of whole cloth.

Anne then starts parenting, which Cécile isn't completely against, until Anne tries to make her study for school and stop seeing Cyril, the handsome boyfriend from the nearby chalet. Almost in retaliation – and also because she wants to – Cécile has her first s*xual encounter with Cyril.

From there, they go at it like rabbits, but somehow, Cécile doesn't seem all that changed by the experience, other than that she likes it – so she's a normal teenager. Still, it's pretty racy stuff for the 1950s, even in libertine France, which still had some of its Catholic overlay pressing down.

Cécile then half-hatches, half-acts on, half-feels bad about, and half-tries not to complete a plan to jettison Anne from her and her father's life. It's a vicious little scheme that does not reflect well on Cécile, but most teenagers have vicious corners of their minds... like most people.

While Cécile is haltingly executing her plan, you realize the plan is less important, as the real story here is the growth, or lack thereof, of Cécile. She tells us she's two years out of convent school (not unusual for that time and place) and has spent those two years with Raymond.

Whatever you think of her, going from a strict school to life with the French Hugh Hefner does not make for good character training. Cécile is now a potent combination of outward confidence and inward insecurity all guided by a wobbly moral gyroscope.

Intentional or not, that is the real story, or theme, or thing that made the book different and successful, and turned it into a major motion picture. It also made the author an international celebrity – and all of it is hoisted up by nothing more than a hundred-plus pages of wide-set type.

Yes, Raymond is interesting, and you even feel something for Elsa, but the only other character that truly affects you is Anne, who, for all her poise, is still a single, middle-aged woman afraid of becoming an old maid (using a term and cultural reality of the day).

That all this insight and carefully crafted story – told in flashbacks – came out of an eighteen-year-old – most of whom are still having their scribbles graded by teachers – argues for God-given talent and a preternatural maturity, which also helps explain the ensuing international fame.

Sagan is not Cécile, but there are overlaps. The author herself went on to write dozens of novels and plays, while gaining notoriety in the international set. Still, her most famous novel was her first, perhaps titled to foreshadow just a bit, her writing career, Bonjour Tristesse.


N.B. Bonjour Tristesse, as noted, was made into an outstanding movie in 1958 starring Jean Serberg, David Niven, and Deborah Kerr. Comments on the movie here: #32,388

J' adore Sagan mais fatigue et Starbucks cafe suffice ce matin.

 

[Tiki Tom]

Phew. Just finished “Far from the Madding Crowd” by Thomas Hardy (published in 1874, 353 pages).

This book certainly flipped the storyline of the earlier Victorian books that I’ve read. In Pride and Prejudice, and also in Jane Eyre, the protagonist is a bright, capable woman seeking a husband. She meets a rich man, finds him socially rude and clumsy, does not really like him at first but eventually housebreaks him and then they finally get married.

Madding Crowd is completely different. The heroine is Bathsheba Everdeen. She is young and beautiful, intelligent and competent and owns a large, productive farm/estate. Basically, she’s already loaded and has everything going for her. She is also vain, proud, and a bit capricious.

I do feel for her in that every eligible man in her social class wants to marry her. She can hardly take a breath without someone proposing marriage to her. Very annoying, but I guess that’s how they did things in the 1800s.

She makes a series of bad romantic decisions and an awkward love triangle (plus one!) develops. Really, the plot is wild. Catastrophes ensue. Terrible things happen. And, mostly, it can all be traced back to Bathsheba’s vanity and bad decisions (and the stupidity of men, of course!). Don’t get me wrong, Bathsheba is also charming, nice, and capable, but she trusts in her good looks a bit too much.

The men:
At first I was sympathetic to a chap named Boldwood. He was the only man in town who paid no attention to Bathsheba. Of course, she found that intolerable, so she jokingly sent him a valentine card that said “marry me!” Later, she does apologize for this flighty bit of vanity, but the damage is done. Boldwood slowly loses my sympathy as he grows more and more obsessed with Bathsheba.

Then there is Sergeant Troy who is the classic ladies man and seducer. He is a bad apple. But Hardy gets points for not making him completely rotten. At one point he does show some regret and conscience. But it is too late. Of course, Bathsheba can’t help but become infatuated with him.

A romantic train wreck takes place with disproportionately bad outcomes. It gets very ugly.

Which brings us to man #3, named Gabriel Oak. The book starts by describing his wonderful smile and kindness. He is the very first man who Bathsheba rejects. Eventually they meet again. He lets bye gones be bye gones and never bothers her about it again. He is honest and wise and hard working. He’s always there to do the right thing and help Bathsheba out of a jam. As luck would have it, at the end of the book Bathsheba sees the error of her ways and picks Gabriel.

Gabriel Oak is a great guy. Unfortunately he is, perhaps, literatures first “nice guy.” He only narrowly escapes this fate by being unafraid to tell Bathsheba the truth to her face on more than one occasion.

This being written by Thomas Hardy, the above story is written in the highest of high English, with elaborate sentence structure, monumental vocabulary, and literary allusions by the dozen. I thought it was fun to read.

There you have it. Far from the Madding Crowd was a completely different spin on the Victorian novel. It takes place deep in the English countryside and you will learn everything about raising sheep that you ever wanted to know.

 

[Fading Fast]

⇧ Tiki Tom, I love reading your reviews. You have a talent for seeing a book in an enlightening away and an equally impressive talent for writing about it. I've seen the movie and was always underwhelmed so never thought about the book, but now you have me curious.

 

[Fading Fast]

Airport by Arthur Hailey, published in 1968


Airport is a big rollicking novel that depicts a momentous evening in the lives of several people all connected to a fictitious Chicago airport during a massive snowstorm. It's a fun, exaggerated melodrama pivoting off an intelligent look at the airline industry in the late 1960s.

Airport manager Mel Bakersfield has a job only a masochist could want: "running" a large airport where the big problems filter up to him, but his authority to solve them is limited by the airport's board and the many "stakeholders," from unions to airlines, that he only has some influence with.

Bakersfield's personal life is chaotic, too, with his wife stepping out on him and his teenage daughter dismissive of her often "at work" dad. "Dad" is starting to turn to the young, attractive passenger relations manager, Tanya Livingston, of one of the airlines.

His plate is much busier, though, as he also deals with airport security, run by a smart, imposing Black officer (note it's 1968), all the airport vendors, air traffic control, ground maintenance, the nearby community, which just hired a lawyer to fight the takeoff and landing noise, and more.

Ground maintenance itself is run by a man bred of his era, Joe Patroni. He's a cigar-smoker who shovels snow with his men in an emergency, and knows maintenance, not from a book, but by living it for decades and having all that experience stuffed into his giant brain.

Bakersfield also has a brother-in-law who is a smart, arrogant, opinionated, combative, and handsome senior pilot. He seems to enjoy riling Bakersfield up. Sure, Bakersfield makes a good living, but he earns every single penny of it and then some. Dear God, it's an awful job.

There is more because Hailey opens up a lot of story threads with a lot of characters as the main plot morphs from keeping the airport open during a blizzard to dealing with a plane carrying a potential bomber – at a time when airport security was a fraction of what it is today.

Hailey has done his homework showing us the intricacies of how an airport works and how a determined man, at the end of his rope, could buy insurance before stepping on a plane with a bomb in his briefcase that he plans to detonate over the ocean, thus leaving no evidence.

The poor man's wife, who slowly pieces together what her unstable husband plans to do, races to the airport to stop him, but the storm complicates things. And we haven't even discussed the grandmother stowaway who makes monkeys out of smart ticket agents.

Time and again, this wily old harmless-looking woman outfoxes airline agents and others with her quick wit and nerves of steel. Sure, her looks help, but her brain works with the speed of a computer to find answers to near "gotcha" questions. Her scenes are fun and engaging.

Hailey has several talents that make this rambling story work. Most importantly, he is a good storyteller. That matters more than all the research he's done as he only holds you page after page because his characters and plot draw you in.

You care about the unmarried pregnant stewardess dating Bakersfield's married brother-in-law because we get to know her and see her point of view. Then, for several pages, those two discuss out-of-wedlock pregnancies, providing a window into the late 1960s view of that issue.

Hailey is also good at crafting a plot that often works in the background until later, when he starts to tie it all together. Is this Pulitzer Prize winning material? No, but when all the threads are colliding in the nail-biting climax you aren't putting the book down until you know the outcome.

You might know the outcome if you've ever seen the well-made and successful 1970 movie, Airport*, based on the book. Other than a lot of trimming and a little cleaning up, the movie tracks the book's story pretty closely because it's a good story, so smartly, they didn't change it.

Hailey was a massively successful author in his day because the public liked his books. The critics were mixed, but readers voted with their pocketbooks and Hailey won time and again. Today, they are still entertaining reads, but they also have a wonderful time capsule value.

In Airport, you get so engrossed that you feel like you are living in the late 1960s walking through a Chicago airport during a blizzard. Being of its time, it is loaded with its era's politics, but it is refreshingly free of ours. That alone makes it worth the read.


*Link to my comments on the movie: #32,255

 

[Trenchfriend]

Since my concentrativeness is more or less back, I'm totally back again in Gregg Hurwitz - Orphan X (vol.1) and it's just so good.

 

[Harp]

View attachment 789569
Airport by Arthur Hailey, published in 1968


Airport is a big rollicking novel that depicts a momentous evening in the lives of several people all connected to a fictitious Chicago airport during a massive snowstorm. It's a fun, exaggerated melodrama pivoting off an intelligent look at the airline industry in the late 1960s.

Airport manager Mel Bakersfield has a job only a masochist could want: "running" a large airport where the big problems filter up to him, but his authority to solve them is limited by the airport's board and the many "stakeholders," from unions to airlines, that he only has some influence with.

Bakersfield's personal life is chaotic, too, with his wife stepping out on him and his teenage daughter dismissive of her often "at work" dad. "Dad" is starting to turn to the young, attractive passenger relations manager, Tanya Livingston, of one of the airlines.

His plate is much busier, though, as he also deals with airport security, run by a smart, imposing Black officer (note it's 1968), all the airport vendors, air traffic control, ground maintenance, the nearby community, which just hired a lawyer to fight the takeoff and landing noise, and more.

Ground maintenance itself is run by a man bred of his era, Joe Patroni. He's a cigar-smoker who shovels snow with his men in an emergency, and knows maintenance, not from a book, but by living it for decades and having all that experience stuffed into his giant brain.

Bakersfield also has a brother-in-law who is a smart, arrogant, opinionated, combative, and handsome senior pilot. He seems to enjoy riling Bakersfield up. Sure, Bakersfield makes a good living, but he earns every single penny of it and then some. Dear God, it's an awful job.

There is more because Hailey opens up a lot of story threads with a lot of characters as the main plot morphs from keeping the airport open during a blizzard to dealing with a plane carrying a potential bomber – at a time when airport security was a fraction of what it is today.

Hailey has done his homework showing us the intricacies of how an airport works and how a determined man, at the end of his rope, could buy insurance before stepping on a plane with a bomb in his briefcase that he plans to detonate over the ocean, thus leaving no evidence.

The poor man's wife, who slowly pieces together what her unstable husband plans to do, races to the airport to stop him, but the storm complicates things. And we haven't even discussed the grandmother stowaway who makes monkeys out of smart ticket agents.

Time and again, this wily old harmless-looking woman outfoxes airline agents and others with her quick wit and nerves of steel. Sure, her looks help, but her brain works with the speed of a computer to find answers to near "gotcha" questions. Her scenes are fun and engaging.

Hailey has several talents that make this rambling story work. Most importantly, he is a good storyteller. That matters more than all the research he's done as he only holds you page after page because his characters and plot draw you in.

You care about the unmarried pregnant stewardess dating Bakersfield's married brother-in-law because we get to know her and see her point of view. Then, for several pages, those two discuss out-of-wedlock pregnancies, providing a window into the late 1960s view of that issue.

Hailey is also good at crafting a plot that often works in the background until later, when he starts to tie it all together. Is this Pulitzer Prize winning material? No, but when all the threads are colliding in the nail-biting climax you aren't putting the book down until you know the outcome.

You might know the outcome if you've ever seen the well-made and successful 1970 movie, Airport*, based on the book. Other than a lot of trimming and a little cleaning up, the movie tracks the book's story pretty closely because it's a good story, so smartly, they didn't change it.

Hailey was a massively successful author in his day because the public liked his books. The critics were mixed, but readers voted with their pocketbooks and Hailey won time and again. Today, they are still entertaining reads, but they also have a wonderful time capsule value.

In Airport, you get so engrossed that you feel like you are living in the late 1960s walking through a Chicago airport during a blizzard. Being of its time, it is loaded with its era's politics, but it is refreshingly free of ours. That alone makes it worth the read.


*Link to my comments on the movie: #32,255

Years ago, while ''babysitting'' my sister's kids, I chanced finding my grade school nephew with a Pla..y,
which I confiscated after a stern lecture. Back at the ranch, I scanned playm..e of year feature. The next day, passing through O'Hare Airport TSA checkpoint screening, I noticed a fellow traveler led to checkpoint by an airline official. And she looked familiar. We stood next to each other while our carry on bags checked,
and the TSA pulled out the self same Pla..y I had taken off the kid yesterday from her bag. The lady laughingly explained she was the play...e of the year inside said issue. Small world eh? Quite naturally, I later informed my nephew in graphic 3-D grisly detail recount of what had happened.