Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Book Review: Ponti by Sharlene Teo

I'm in Singapore, and I just finished Ponti (2018) by Singaporean-born Sharlene TeoThe title refers to a fictional movie Ponti! and the myth of the Pontianak. A Pontianak is a plain or deformed woman who makes a deal with the devil to become beautiful and irresistible to men, but with a Dracula-like catch: she must drink male blood to survive. (Yennefer of Vengerberg in 2019's The Witcher series is the European version.) Though Teo's book does not revolve around the popular Malaysian fable, viewers unfamiliar with Asian culture's ample room for ghosts will benefit from watching the 2018 movie Kuntilanak (MVP Pictures)

In the book, I sensed Teo trying to fashion a story around the idea that real horror can be found in broken dreams, broken families, and broken friendships; unfortunately, too much effort is required by the reader to make such leaps. For example, in the beginning and the end, we are introduced to three elderly characters, all of whom are so unbelievable, they function as a tableau for the author's descriptive skills rather than logical plot devices. I am still determining if I was supposed to view the aforementioned characters as war victims or indications the protagonists had no idea how lucky they really were. Due to such gaps, the book underperforms its potential, and we are left with a melacholy novel interrupted by flashes of literary brilliance. 


Despite its shortcomings, Teo's 
Ponti (2018) is the only fiction book I would recommend to anyone planning to visit Singapore. Using beautifully-written prose, the author accurately captures much of Singaporean life, including hawker centres and even Bata department stores. 

Below are my favorite quotes from the book. 

© Matthew Mehdi Rafat (2020) 


On Singapore's heat: "Singapore lies just one degree north of the equator and it feels like the bullseye where the sun is aiming a shot at the earth with the intention of killing it." 

On gradually losing memories: "His voice is vague. What I have is a paternal approximation, borrowed from daytime soaps. No recordings exist of him. Voices are the first things to go. Next, speech patterns. The turn of a phrase. What was meant as a joke and what was wisdom? You don't get to choose what sticks and what fades."

On dating: "I can picture it. Date night: he'll bring her over some lontong and soya bean milk from the hawker centre near her place and she will beam at him, accept thankfully. And later on they will dim the lights and f*ck full of earnestness to [British operatic pop singer] Adele or something." 


On teenage jealousy: "I cannot imagine them growing old, or any better-looking. There is no limit to this soft sort of envy; it makes a wistful, gawping owl of me. I crane my neck to watch them leave." 

On how relationships decline: "Every evening we talked over each other in circles and absolutes, casting desperate blame spells and generalizations like a blanket over a dying animal. By that point it was you ALWAYS do this and why do you ALWAYS do that. Everything we did together was fraught and boring... I had been trying all my life, and at just 31, I was sick of it." 

On beauty: "Eunice is familiar yet exotic: white enough to fit in, desirably foreign enough to stand out."

On cards: "It sounds like a motivational card. Emptily hopeful."


On teenage activity: "Lying on her tiny bed in half a daydream and dirty clothes was her favourite thing to do."

On grief: "Grief makes ghosts of people. I don't just mean the ones lost, but the leftover people."

On the difficulties of being with a grieving friend: "Yet by the end of that year, being friends with Szu was like carrying around a heavy, sloshing bucket of water. Her grief weighed me down and I couldn't escape its drip."

On lessons to impart to our children: "It's a hot, horrible earth we are stuck on and it's only getting worse. But still. I want to care for you always. May you be safe, may you feel ease. May you have a long, messy life full of love." 


Interesting words: exeunt; leonine; cynosure; epicanthal; pomfret; gormless; auteur; myxomatosis. 


Friday, June 7, 2019

Book Review: Graeme Simsion's The Rosie Project

Most people have never met anyone autistic. Their perception of autism is usually from Dustin Hoffman's Rain Man (1988), 
Sheldon Cooper in The Big Bang Theory, or my favorite, Abed from the Community series. (South Korea's Marathon (2005) and Britain's A Brilliant Young Mind aka X + Y (2015) are also excellent, with the female lead in A Brilliant Young Mind perfectly written.) 
Given the popularity of some autistic characters, as well as greater interest into autism by neuroscientists, numerous fiction books now involve autistic protagonists. Sadly, all their authors have failed to present works both respectful and interesting, except two: Graeme Simsion and Helen Hoang

At first glance, techie-turned-author Graeme Simsion looks exactly like a stereotypical mad scientist. If a gargoyle could turn human, or if Moe Szyslak had a Ph.D. in data modeling and an ever-present smile, Graeme would be the result. 
Graeme knows autism well--he jokes his thirty years in information technology provided him ample research--and he's conformed his behavior to the autistic world, a welcome form of empathy. For example, many autistic people are paradoxes in that they adore unusual behavior (that increases efficiency) and despise rules, but once a logical rule is presented, they demand strict adherence. At 7:29pm, Graeme looked at his watch and did not stop looking at it until 7:30pm, when he promptly started. (Logical rules followed? Check.) Before his presentation, he disregarded the standard procedure of making people wait in line to get their books signed and went around the room, multiple pens available, to sign anyone's book upon request. (Noncomformist? Check.) 

Graeme and I discussed the book, which I had just finished, for a minute. I found the ending confusing, but he said the identity of the father "was meant to be clear." In retrospect, it probably should have been clear, but I was not prepared for deception from Don Tillman, the protagonist, which threw me off. (A recent Star Trek movie with Spock featured the same trick.) 

The Rosie Project is not an entirely original idea. Johannes Kepler, a gifted astronomer, approached finding a wife in almost exactly the same way, generating a mathematical answer to "The Marriage Problem." (His answer worked for him, surely creating bias.) Though most of us would sneer at Kepler's or Tillman's methods--Rosie, at one point, accuses Don of objectifying women--an approximate 50% divorce rate in most Western countries indicates the usual procedures aren't working well. 

My chief complaint about Graeme's book is although the first half is written like a novel, the second half panders excessively to Hollywood--even including the cliché of all clichés, a Disneyland trip. Nevertheless, I was sufficiently amused in the first half to keep reading, and the book is good. Not great, but few of us can claim to have written great books. Indeed, Graeme admitted he wrote the book as a screenplay and is hoping for a movie. His first two books are bestsellers, and "studios use [bestselling] books for adaptations because sales are established," so there's a better-than-average chance you'll see him on a red carpet someday. 

To explain some of Don's nontraditional behavior, especially in the second half of the book, Graeme delivered a profound observation: 

In romantic comedies and in real life, people do crazy things when they're in love, and the only unrealistic part is the "happily ever after." 

Other Graeme Simsion highlights: 

1. Autism is "not a disability, it's a difference." 

2. When you get to the end of the book, what do you think about Don? The "comedy doesn't detract from Don's good character," so we're not laughing at him. 

3. There's a "difference between empathy and not reading [social] signals." 

4. On the writing process: I won't stop until I've done 1,000 words, which I review first thing in the morning. (Sometimes it takes longer to write the 1,000 words, so I don't know what time I will finish.) I repeat the process for 90 days, after which I have the first draft of a book/screenplay. Then, I ask friends "to mark any passages they'd be tempted to skip," which I consider for deletion. 

5. After publication, I consider "what worked, what didn't work, and what to do differently next time." 

All in all, it's hard not to wish Graeme well. He has the advantage of being Australian, which makes his behavior easier for foreigners to handle--they can't tell if he's a bit off or just acting like an Aussie. Me, I can see his behavior is deliberately tailored to make autistic people or Aspies more comfortable, and it's nice to know at least one person gets it, even if everyone else doesn't. 

© Matthew Rafat (2019)

Bonus, on the dangers of generalizing: "If you've met one autistic person, you've met... one... autistic... person." 

Bonus II: Rosie was not written with Rosie McGowan in mind. In the original draft, Rosie was "Klara," a Hungarian physicist. 

Bonus III: if you like Simsion's character, you may also like the nonfiction book Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's (2008) by John Elder Robison. 

Friday, May 17, 2019

Pico Iyer in Menlo Park, CA

Oxford-born travel writer and Kyoto then Nara, Japan transplant Pico Iyer was at Kepler's Books in Menlo Park, California tonight. 
Two quotes stood out: 1) There are "72 seasons in Japan and religion in Japan is the seasons, a religion without dogma." 2) "California is about possibility, Japan is about reality."

Iyer lit up when discussing his wife, clearly still in love after decades together. (In the book, he describes her voice as "made for singing" on the very first page.) Why did he settle down after so many years single? A seminal moment occurred when Hiroko explained he's impossible, so she just had to adapt to him. This non-Western philosophy of dating--accepting a person "as is" instead of forcing change--softened Iyer, causing him to adapt to his wife in turn. Out of this dance of reciprocity, and despite his limited Japanese and her average English, came relationship success, travels together, and a daughter. (I'm reminded of Pablo Neruda's lines in Love Sonnet 17: "I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul... I love you directly without problems or pride.")

Interestingly, before discussing his relationship with Hiroko, Iyer discussed playing ping pong at a community center, where everyone tries as hard as possible--but not to win. The idea is to challenge each other and oneself, to adapt to each other's styles, and to be joyful. It's difficult not to draw parallels between Iyer's description of dating and a ping pong match between two equals, playing as hard as they can, never wanting the game to end. If you are a fan of travel and/or Japan, you may enjoy one of Pico Iyer's books. I just bought The Lady and the Monk (1991) and hope to read it before his latest work. 

© Matthew Rafat (2019)

Bonus I: many people outside of Japan are confused by the country. Japan is difficult to understand because outside perspectives differ based on whether one is discussing corporate Japan--an unforgiving, monolithic entity--or familial Japan--its patient, considerate side. 

Familial Japan is like this quote from Yoshimoto Mahoko (aka Banana Yoshimoto): "Quality is always more important than quantity. This is true for everything. Even if you write only one line in your life, if it stays in someone’s mind forever, it is satisfactory."

Corporate Japan is the drunk group of men at the local bar, unnecessarily loud and rigidly opposed to substantive changes. (It's true the Toyota Production System (TPS) is renowned worldwide, but its changes typically modify existing processes, and employee promotions seem based on factors other than merit.) 

Bonus II: an interview with Pico Iyer is HERE, but no transcript posted. 

Monday, May 6, 2019

Kwame Anthony Appiah at Berkeley Book Festival

I was very happy to meet Kwame Anthony Appiah at Berkeley's Bay Book Fest yesterday. Appiah, who prefers Anthony rather than Kwame, strikes a tall, formidable presence, especially among smaller literary figures (both figuratively and literally). Realizing his calm, British-educated poise might be considered standoffish by Americans, he will politely nod in agreement with his colleagues during conversations. 

If you haven't read Appiah, I suggest you start with either The Lies that Bind (2019) or Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers (2006). If you are a philosophy student or professor, you may enjoy As If (2017). 


Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Book Review: Dave Barry's Lessons from Lucy (2019)

I've been following Dave Barry since his nationally syndicated column in the Miami Herald as a teenager. (For those of you who don't want to research the timeline, that's about 20 years ago.) I wasn't expecting much from Barry's latest book--after all, it's marketed as "self-help," and Barry excels when he notices and mocks the ordinary. "Mocking" and "earnest self-help advice" don't mesh well, so I figured Barry was just cashing in on his name and reputation to pay for his daughter's college tuition. Boy, was I wrong. This book is one of Barry's best. 
First, if you are a dog lover, you have to get this book. Second, if you're not a dog lover, don't worry--Barry refers to Lucy after his usual storytelling, using her as a sort of canine muse. The book does get overly sentimental in places, but only three or four times total. (e.g., "Do not be afraid to say these words: I was wrong. I made a mistake. I'm sorry. I apologize.") 

More common are the following thoughts, such as when Barry participates in a corporate pro-diversity program: "Inside we were seething. We were ready to go out and join the [Ku Klux] Klan. Even the black employees." 

I'll end with one of Barry's best paragraphs: "So what I'm saying to you, especially if you're getting up in years, is: Don't settle for contentment. Don't just stand around grinning. Get out there. It's a wonderful world." 

© Matthew Mehdi Rafat (2019) 

Friday, April 5, 2019

Book Review: One Day by David Nicholls

It's so hard to find a good love story these days, one wonders if love itself is hiding in the shadows, waiting for someone to properly articulate its existence. David Nicholls did his best in 2009 with his book, One Day, adapted into a film starring Anne Hathaway. The film is good--I admit to crying at the end, despite knowing the plot--but not a true adaptation. 
From the beginning, Hathaway was a risky choice to play a rebellious, Doc Marten's-wearing character with a pen Shakespeare would envy. We see glimpses of youthful defiance when Hathaway wears an anti-war t-shirt and peace buttons on her jacket, but she plays the character as Desdemona to a second-tier Othello, whereas Nicholls wrote her character as far more interesting, more punk genius than lovelorn robin. 

Let me do my best to fill in the gaps in case you make the mistake of not reading the book. We all know the "Cinderella meets Rich Prince" motif has been explored to death, but Nicholls infuses Emma Morley with such verve, no one would dare think her inferior in any way to her would-be prince, Dexter Mayhew. Sadly, the film omits the written correspondence between the two protagonists as they travel in different directions, keeping in touch except for brief periods. Like Cinderella's spic-and-span work ethic, Emma's letters establish her as unjustly downtrodden, her descriptions of colleagues and roommates alternating between comedy and tragedy: "I asked him [a fellow theater actor playing a slave] to get me a packet of crisps [aka chips] in this café the other day and he looked at me like I was OPPRESSING him or something." 

It is within these same letters we understand Emma's unconditional love for Dexter, springing from the vast differences between them, including his privileged upbringing: "I know your whole childhood was spent playing French cricket on a bloody great chamomile lawn and you never did anything as déclassé as watch the telly..." Cinderella never mocked her prince, nor displayed the aptitude to do so, which is why such Disney stories are unappealing to intelligent adults. In contrast, Emma uses Dexter's status as modern-day royalty to showcase her sharp wit, and in doing so, make him a better man. Consequently, the best comparison to One Day isn't Cinderella or Othello, but a transposed riff on Pretty Woman, with Richard Gere's charm intact but his money replaced by intelligence: "Yes, you had to be smart, but not Emma-smart. Just politic, shrewd, ambitious," Dexter tells himself while considering career options.  

And yet, Dexter isn't exactly the male bimbo caricature the film makes him out to be. It's true the director makes us ache for Dexter's lost potential at every turn, at one point giving him as vacuous a girlfriend as imaginable, a showbiz tart who makes Kim Kardashian look worthy of a Nobel Prize in Physics. Dexter's portrayal is unfair because first, he's lost his mother to cancer, which clearly upends his very being, given his emotional distance from his disapproving father (who, interestingly, married a woman far more classy than he deserved, as both the film and book insinuate--at least until the very end). 

Moreover, unlike the stereotypical bimbo or cad, Dexter knows he's not smart, so he tries to find a niche where he can prove his worth. He knows the entire time he can't compete on any level-playing field in the real world, which is why he's so ashamed to face his mother's expectations, and why he's so smitten with Emma: "Without her[,] he is without merit or virtue or purpose..." For her part, Emma knows she's the perfect foil for Dexter, and without him, she wouldn't have a punching bag, er, muse capable of helping her reach Tysonian or Lewisian heights. Unfortunately, the film underestimates its audience by expressly telling us their union is about opposites attracting, even giving Dexter a ying-and-yang ankle tattoo (at least it wasn't on his lower back). 

There are so many ways to interpret the book--the proletariat's place in a bourgeois world being just one of them--I'll stop and let you explore Nicholls' writing yourself. If you've already seen the movie, here's one excerpt that should give you an idea of the book's higher workmanship: 
Here's to smart, witty, kind women. If you find one who loves you, cherish her and have a nice life. 

© Matthew Rafat (2019)

Thursday, March 28, 2019

Soniah Kamal explains Jane Austen

Despite a degree in English and several classes on Western/British literature, I've never finished a single Brontë or Jane Austen book. I relied on CliffsNotes, yellow and black summary booklets that save countless American college students. 

Older now, but none the wiser about British literature, I had a chance last night to ask author Soniah Kamal about Austen's pull on so many women, especially intelligent, highly educated ones from affluent families. Her response was brilliant, rendering me able to understand Austen's allure for the first time--a feat none of my college professors managed. 
Soniah Kamal with interviewer Rebecca Richardson
Kamal began by explaining Austen isn't about romance, but about social satire. More specifically, Austen used her pen to mock everyone, especially the upper classes. It's important to remember Austen grew up in a time when options were limited because of her gender. "Keeping up appearances" was vital for women to gain comfortable lives through their most straightforward avenue: marriage, a one-shot deal due to divorce being rare or available only in ways making wives destitute. 

Sadly, in Austen's time, women's dependence on men, whether brother or stranger, was almost total. Existing laws mandated inheritance to male heirs, so a father with three daughters and no sons would likely pass his entire estate to a male cousin--no matter how distant. To summarize, women's chastity and behavior were linked to familial reputation, which in turn was necessarily conservative because a lack of economic opportunities, coupled with sexist laws, buried women alive under social constraints. (My crude belief that the Brontë sisters and Jane Austen suffered from an inability to achieve orgasms, causing them to transfer their Victorian passion into literary dramas now seems grossly unfair. We can also see how such strict norms led to other injustices, most notably in the area of race relations, but that's another topic.) 

Kamal's approach is unique in that she recognizes such social constraints also buried men, who may not have wanted to support a family or even to get married. (Note Jane Eyre's Edward Rochester character, who was tricked into a bad marriage.) Kamal's multi-faceted explanation also helps us understand why Austen's modern-day audience tends to be affluent and educated, despite Austen herself being neither royalty (e.g., a Lady) nor rich. Though she wrote about what she knew, a scope neglecting the working classes, the quality making Austen's writing timeless is her recognition that marriage and "high society" involve appearances for the sake of social inclusion--and, more importantly, that such status can be lost with a single poor choice. (See "Bag Lady syndrome.") 

These themes of social inclusion and social mobility based on superficial traits mean every time someone buys a Louis Vuitton wallet or a Birkin bag, s/he's bringing Austen to life. When we watch Carrie Bradshaw buying a pair of imported Manolos, Austen is lurking in the background, waiting to pounce. Considering that most first marriages, even today, occur at a very young age and are therefore dependent in large part on familial support and reputation, Austen's work seems less outdated. Indeed, it's more accurate to say her muse midwifes itself from rebellion against social repression and constraints rather than Victorian-era sexual mores. Given the universality of youthful rebellion in the context of strict parents, Kamal joked that Austen didn't realize she was Pakistani, Bangladeshi, and perhaps even Italian. 

Let's talk about Soniah Kamal. My first impression was a woman once constrained by social norms, now ready to let loose--but in a manner befitting her social stature. Kamal, born in Pakistan and raised in London and Saudi Arabia, where she attended an international school, won't be seen anywhere near a dive bar, but her alligator skin shoes and colorful dress and scarf tell you she wants to be seen. And yet, I never once saw a prurient quality in her. Observing a photo after taking one with a fan, she decided it didn't meet her standards and told the photographer to "stand up" and try again. The photographer obliged. 

Incredibly, Kamal wrote her latest book, Unmarriageable (2019), a fusion of Pakistani culture and Jane Austen, in two months. She advises aspiring writers, often told to picture their audience that "There is no audience. You are your audience--write what interests you." 
Fans of Austen are familiar with a surfeit of emotion hidden under prim surfaces, and Kamal sheds tears easily. Waterworks occurred when she discussed a reader's poignant note; the unexpected revelation some people were using her book as a gateway to Jane Austen, her original inspiration; and two other instances. Despite my newfound respect for Austen's desire to give her characters more agency on the page than they had in real life, I won't be reading Austen's books. There are too many interesting female writers today, including G. Willow Wilson (The Butterfly Mosque), Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Michelle de Kretser (The Life to Come), Zadie Smith and, yes, Soniah Kamal. 

© Matthew Mehdi Rafat (2019)

Bonus I: "For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?" -- Jane Austen 

Bonus II: from Kwame Appiah's The Lies that Bind (2018), on Jane Eyre: 

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Book Review: Repetitive Tripe

Hordes of Mongols couldn't get me to pay more than one dollar for Jay Rayner's The Man Who Ate the World, which I found at a used library sale in, of all places, Stockholm. Another reviewer summarized it best: "You can equate the book to a dinner with good starters followed by a bland main course and even blander dessert." 
Rayner is a journalist turned restaurant critic; in other words, he lacks the kitchen experience of other reviewers like Anthony Bourdain, whom Rayner criticizes for his take on sushi rice. The only interesting parts of the book are when Rayner discusses his love of garlic buttered escargot and his wife--both of whom seem more capable of prose than himself. (February 2019) 

Bonus: Rayner references Star Trek, only to misspell Commander Worf as--I kid you not--"Wharf." Screenshot of page below. 

Sunday, January 6, 2019

Book Review: Melody Warnick's This is Where You Belong

Melody Warnick's attempt at evaluating what makes some cities "stickier" than others is earnest, but too wordy. 
Though Warnick is probably a lovely person, such qualities don't mean her ideas are interesting enough to warrant an entire book. I'm not sure if she was paid by the word, but I started skimming pages after the following factoid: "liberals want to drive Honda Civic Hybrids. Conservatives want to drive Ford Mustang convertibles." (What do libertarians or socialists prefer, I asked myself in an immediate moment of snark, imagining various possibilities.) 

Warnick's fatal--and unforgivable--mistake is failing to recognize a key detail: college towns (like Blacksburg, VA) are lovely places to live for intellectuals/readers. Instead of placing this unique feature of her eventual hometown front and center, Warnick spends excessive time discussing how cities can attract and keep committed residents, especially younger ones. (Actual quote: "Do What Your Town is Good At.") 

Jane Jacobs and Richard Florida are the mavens in the "city analytics" genre, and I suggest you start with them if interested in this subject matter. 

Bonus: I enjoyed the following blurb about Canada/USA social capital. 

Monday, December 17, 2018

Paul Theroux's Deep South (2015)

I'm reading Paul Theroux's Deep South (2015) and though only halfway through, I'm already convinced Theroux has written the first Great American Novel. The scope of the work is incredible. Theroux quotes older Americans who've lived through Jim Crow and sharecropping, the illegitimate daughter of a prominent politician, and ordinary people with incredible stories, all while sharing his prodigious knowledge of other American writers. I've always said everyone has one amazing book, song, movie, or poem inside them, but I never thought much of Theroux's international writing. I suppose in some cases, it takes 75 years to midwife your great work. 

I'll leave you with one paragraph where Theroux indirectly predicts the outcome of the 2016 presidential election: "The whites felt like a despised minority--different, defeated, misunderstood, muddled with, pushed around, cheated. Blood mattered, so did history and old grievances and perceived injustices..." 
My only quibble is Theroux's repeated comparison between (inadequate) federal government funding for rural development vs. international aid. The two are not comparable. America spends less than 1% of its annual budget on foreign aid, much of it to employ American overseas workers; to gain footholds in countries that would otherwise be inclined to grant infrastructure projects to China or Japan; to keep the peace (Kosovo, Jordan, etc.); or--let's be honest--indirect bribery to gain the trust of foreign leaders who might otherwise be hostile to American interests. Though it's true the federal government funded the development of national highways, which benefited rural communities, such domestic aid was done in the national, not local, interest. Regardless of this flaw, Theroux's Deep South (2015) should be required reading in every American history college class, and its chapter on Faulkner required reading in every 12th grade English course. 

© Matthew Rafat (2018) 

Bonus I

"That seemed to be the theme in the Deep South: kindness, generosity, a welcome... I found so much of it here that I kept going, because the goodwill was like an embrace." 

“America is accessible, but Americans in general are not; they are harder to know than any people I’ve traveled among.”

“We [Americans] tolerate difference only when we don’t have to look at it or listen to it, as long as it doesn’t impact our lives. Our great gift as a country is its size and its relative emptiness, its elbow room. That space allows for difference and is often mistaken for tolerance.”

“All air travel today involves interrogation, often by someone in uniform who is your inferior.” 

"He [John Lewis] had distinguished himself by his insistence on ethical behavior in Congress--an uphill task, given the number of crooks, sneaks, junketers, opportunists, liars, tax cheats, adulterers, sexual stalkers, senders of selfies of their private parts to perfect strangers, and unembarrassed villains in that tainted assembly." 

"'The South gives indications of being afraid of the Negro. I do not mean physical fear,' Frank Tannenbaum wrote ninety years ago in Darker Phases of the South. 'It is not a matter of cowardice or bravery; it is something deeper and more fundamental. It is a fear of losing grip upon the world. It is an unconscious fear of changing status.'

Bonus II: "When will we learn that the white man can no longer afford, he simply does not dare to commit acts that the other 3/4s of the human race can challenge him for, not because the acts themselves are criminal, but simply because the challengers and accusers of the acts are not white in pigment... Have we, the white Americans who can commit or condone such acts, forgotten already how only fifteen years ago what only the Japanese, a mere 8 million inhabitants of an island already insolvent and bankrupt, did to us? How can we hope to survive the next Pearl Harbor, if there should be one, with not only all peoples who are not white but peoples whose political ideologies are different from ours arrayed against us after we have taught them, as we are now doing, that when we talk about freedom and liberty, we not only mean neither, we don't even mean security and justice and even the preservation of life for peoples whose pigmentation is not the same as ours... Because if we in America have reached that point in our disparate culture when we must murder children, no matter for what or what color, then we do not deserve to survive and probably won't." -- William Faulkner, September 6, 1955 

Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Incredible Book on Chinese Influence in the Philippines

I just discovered an incredible book, Chinese Participation in Philippine Culture and Economy (1964), edited by Dr. Shubert S.C. Liao, Professor of Economics, University of the East. 

Dr. Liao took work from other writers like Dr. Mao-Lan Tuan and Dr. H. Otley Beyer, creating a deeply edifying compilation of Philippine history. I heard the term, "Hadramaut Sayyids," for the first time and learned "about 2% of the present Philippine population is descended from Arab or Persian ancestors, either ancient or modern." Other sections of the book detail anti-Chinese legislation throughout Asia. 

Below are a few selections, copied under fair use doctrine: 


Thursday, August 2, 2018

Book Review: John Perry, Singapore: Unlikely Power (2018)

I'm about halfway finished with Perry's Singapore: Unlikely Power (2018). Despite a too-flowery start, the book settled down and became much more tolerable to read. Below are a few passages that caught my eye. Perhaps they'll interest you, too. 
History is more interesting than you can imagine.
Scroll all the way down this post for more.

Interestingly, LKY left out housing, another essential item.
For most Singaporeans, the gov is heavily involved in providing access to housing.

LKY was a POW when the Japanese defeated the British
and until the British re-gained Singapore circa 1945.

Today, Singapore is known for its strict laws--including the death penalty--for drug possession. Given its history, Singapore's draconian drug policies make perfect sense as a way to eliminate the former power structure's source of income.

Despite more countries building land-based infrastructure,
the sea continues to be important in the modern economy.

Surprise!
Bonus: in Surabaya, Indonesia, I visited the Cheng Hoo mosque aka Zheng He mosque. (The Bahasa language apparently replaces the "z" with a "c," similar to how Spanish calls the "v" a "b.") The mosque provided even more information about the fascinating seafarer not as famous in the West as he should be. Here is more information explaining some of Zheng He's remarkable feats, including navigating seven(!) journeys: 
From Surabaya, Indonesia
Bonus II: from Clark Winter's The Either/Or Investor (2008). 

pp. 66, hardcover, Random House


Monday, June 4, 2018

Book Review: Stig Abell's How Britain Really Works (2018)

Newspaper journalists are notoriously bad at long-form, worse with entire books. Part of the problem is a journalist's firsthand experience, though unique, doesn't necessarily capture the entire picture. For example, a journalist assigned to education might interview hundreds of insiders without ever meeting a single person knowledgable about pensions' involvement in unpredictable budgeting and lower entry salaries. Our modern world makes it impossible to have a life and publish a book containing ample firsthand experience matched by well-researched, comprehensive footnotes. 

In any case, Abell is excellent when discussing his specialities--healthcare, particularly the NHS, and British politics--but attempts too big a spoonful by also covering the military, economics, education, law, and media. His casual style is best-suited to casual readers interested in Britain generally and perfect for an advanced politics high school course. 

Despite my criticisms, much is enjoyable about the book. As you might expect, Abell is well-read--his recommended reading list at the end is wonderful--and he shares facts few others could. Did you know Zaire is not an African word? Or that the NHS is the "fifth largest employer in the world"? 
Had Abell written a shorter book about just politics, it would have been an easy five stars. Witness this remark on PM May's performance: "no humility, no soul-searching, no human touch, no real change. The audacity of nope." (My own characterization of May is slightly more appreciative, i.e., a person with the remarkable ability to piss you off and put you to sleep at the same time.) Though in favor of more public welfare spending, Abell doesn't avoid unpleasant truths like moral hazard: "If you know you are going to be treated no matter what happens, you may take warnings about salt, or sugar, or booze or cigarettes less seriously; you may not bother to turn up to an appointment on time, or at all... 40% of the NHS's workload is related to 'modifiable health risk factors.'" 

In the end, Abell endears himself to the reader as an insider-outsider, one of the few successful Britons who attended diverse schools and made it without the aid of rich parents. He refused to speak at his former high school's commencement speech on account of his dislike of the experience and shares his pain at using the term "toilet" rather than the more proper "lavatory," a faux pas. A good, not great book, but few of us can claim greatness in literature; in some cases, one's own life will have to suffice. (June 2018) 

Bonus: on Singapore's educational system, ranked as one of the world's best, along with Japan, China, South Korea, Finland, Estonia, Vietnam, and Canada: 

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Book Review: James and Deborah Fallows' Our Towns (2018)

James Fallows' style is as close to the great James Michener as you can get. Unfortunately, he and his wife seem to have caught the "positivity vibe" at the expense of journalistic integrity. It's not that the couple lie--the Fallows are too sincere, too professional--but their blind spots function as a kind of concealment. 
May 15, 2018 in Palo Alto, CA

For example, Deborah Fallows discusses a Darfur refugee's "apparel" problem: "A big disappointment... was not being allowed to wear her hijab along with her ROTC uniform to school... she would have to choose." Mrs. Fallows then writes, sugary-sweetly, "It was beyond me, from my adult perspective, that this girl's preoccupying problem at sixteen years old was her apparel conflict." [Emphasis mine.] No mention of religious freedom exists anywhere on the page, nor a discussion about why the American government was forcing a Muslim refugee to choose between her religious beliefs and service to her country.

A more serious book would have directed the reader to the fact that military outfits despise exceptions to rules--uniformity is key to controlling actions and ensuring order. Instead, Deb Fallows uses the refugee's story as incontrovertible evidence America is working well. When she discussed the "apparel" issue during a recent interview, her husband, a devoted man whose love renders him incapable of correcting his wife's blind spots, saw the problem and immediately tried to save her by mentioning the local ROTC's request for a rule modification, which was eventually granted. 


Throughout the book, I sensed Mr. Fallows gently trying to mitigate Mrs. Fallows' unbridled optimism in a uniquely WASPy way. Discussing Sioux Falls, South Dakota's current economy, Mr. Fallows describes the city's choice of institutions a long time ago: "Would it prefer to be the home of the state university? Or the state penitentiary? ... the penitentiary offered steadier work for locals, so that is what they took." Readers knowledgable about America's worldwide #1 incarceration rate--a massive, unresolved issue that sheds light on untrammeled police discretion in making arrests--can understand the background in context. My concern is many readers might be unfamiliar with Mr. Fallows' genial, non-confrontational style--he was President Carter's speechwriter, after all--and miss the understated intellectualism behind his words. 
The Fallows are best when they stick to hard facts, such as their time operating a small aircraft; their research into ingenious ideas to melt snow (divert hot water from the cooling system of the local electric plant through plastic pipes under city streets and sidewalks); or historical color ("The Democratic-dominated city council tried to thwart every appointment, proposal, and piece of legislation [Bernie] Sanders put forward [after he won as an independent candidate by 10 votes]"). As it stands, if you read the Fallows' hefty book, just be aware of its selection bias. If you visit a city that knows you're coming and that has actively advertised itself to you, you'll get some version of a sanitized tour. (In one place, as soon as the Fallows land, they are greeted by "Captain Bob Peacock, one of many outsized personalities in the town.") 

For her part, Ms. Fallows says in an interview, "If you want to know what's wrong or what's needed [in a city], ask the librarian." Yet, one imagines visiting any country's libraries would result in optimism, even in North Korea. Perhaps that's the point the Fallows are trying to make: in any country, despite its overall decline, you will find pockets of hope and optimism, and your job is to find those places. 
I'll leave you with one of my favorite sentences, as an American immigrant hoping to live outside the United States one day: "Every city that is trendy or successful in some way attracts people from someplace else," which reveals America's economic engine as based on internal and external immigration. 

Friday, May 11, 2018

Christopher Moore at Kepler's Books in Menlo Park, CA

Christopher Moore can be described in one word: wacky. He's like Dave Barry, if Barry had no inhibitions. 
Moore was at Kepler's Books promoting his new novel, Noir (2018). Before signing books, he gave a "commencement speech," hat and all, with several points of advice: "Face your fears... unless it's fire." And "You'll probably get VD [venereal disease] but not at the zoo. Probably." 
It's unclear if Moore, who studied anthropology at Ohio State, graduated from any college. The Q&A session revealed other interesting tidbits. Moore's grandfather, a military veteran, loved to read. When out at sea, servicemen had lots of free time, and sometimes, his grandfather would read "a book a day." His love of reading passed down to his son, who became a police officer. Moore would observe his father reading at home and he, too, "read a lot." Moore's influences include Kurt Vonnegut, Tom Robbins, and Carl Hiassen (like Dave Barry, also a Miami Herald columnist).

What was he like as a teenager? "A smart*ss. No one likes a smart*ss and now I get paid to be one." 


Will his novels ever be made into movies? Moore explained "getting optioned means nothing." In other words, just because someone or a company buys a book's movie rights doesn't mean a movie will get made. More likely, the option to make a film will be passed on or shopped around in perpetuity. 

My favorite Moore book is Bloodsucking Fiends (1995) and I was disappointed in the sequel, You Suck (2007), which felt forced. As Moore became more popular, he sought inspiration by leaving the inner workings of his own mind and using details learned while traveling. I prefer Moore's unhinged comedy more than his reality-fantasy hybrid (e.g., he traveled to the Dead Sea to research a book about Christ's fictional childhood friend), but fans implored me to give Lamb (2002) a chance. I haven't read Noir (2018) yet, but it looks complex, and I'll probably write down all the different characters' names to keep them straight. 

When it came time to sign my book, I asked him to sign it to "Bloodsucking Fiends." Moore, perhaps unaccustomed to someone wackier than himself, questioned why I wanted him to sign it that way, but eventually acquiesced, adding a quizzical "Okay!" He gave fans mini alien figures with his signature imprinted on the aliens' foreheads. Moore's wackiness is unparalleled but I wish he'd recapture the effortless humor he had when writing about his true interest: horror. 

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Book Recommendation: Hilarious Satire of Academia


March 25, 2017
Worldwide Intelligentsia
Wherever, Everywhere

Dear Readers:

I haven't laughed this hard since Me Talk Pretty One Day and David Lodge's similar novel, Changing Places. Jay is a beleaguered English professor who appears to spend most of his time writing letters of recommendation. His writing style is equal parts maudlin, passive-aggressive, and earnest. I needn't say more, I suspect.

An aside: I asked my law professor for a LOR over a month ago, and it took a month, two in-person visits, and about 10 emails to get it. Trying to make it easier for her, and with her agreement, I did it myself and drafted two noncontroversial paragraphs. It still took a month to get the letter. She actually expected an online form (would it cut off her sentences, like in the book?) and looked at me like I was crazy for questioning why it was taking more than 10 minutes to do a copy-and-paste job. Apparently, professors don't mail letters anymore--they have staff and a queue for this sort of thing. When people wonder why Americans voted for Trump, I tell them this story.

"With candor, regret, and a whiff of vengeance,"
Mateo

Update: the author is apparently both witty AND wise. How come female authors "do" male characters so well, but we men can't seem to reciprocate?


Thursday, March 23, 2017

Random Act of Kindness


I got an unexpected package in the mail today. I saw an Amazon Prime sticker, and I don't have Amazon Prime. I opened it and my favorite things in the world were in it: books
First thought: "Finders, keepers." 
Second thought: "Dammit, that's a lot of books. Someone will be inconvenienced. Let me check the label."
Third thought: "That's my name on the label. What's going on?"
Fourth thought: "Well, it's morally wrong to keep all these books, so I have to return them to Amazon. Dammit, I hope this won't take a lot of time." 
Fifth thought: (rummaging through papers, see the one marked "gift," but presume it's the standard gift receipt that comes with every package) "The receipt lists the books correctly. I wonder how Amazon screwed this up." (Starts looking through books, thinking maybe I'll read one before sending back.)
Sixth thought: "That's a gift receipt.  Let's look at it more closely... It's from a law school friend?! All I did was a very small thing for him, and he's a great guy... Wait, he sent me a gift? I got a surprise gift?!" 
Seventh thought: "Who's chopping onions in a goddamn post office?!"