Category: Book Report

I bought this book at the Kirkwood book fair some years back, and I started looking through it a couple baseball seasons ago. It’s definitely a flip-through kind of book, as it includes a short history of Currier and Ives and the market for illustration in the nineteenth century. Each chapter, if you will, then takes on a series from the Currier and Ives line and presents four pictures from it in full color and full page. Of course, if you’re familiar with the Christmas song, you know how the company’s prints impacted how the nineteenth century Americans viewed themselves and their countrymen and, even more importantly, impacted the nostalgia of the time. Think of it as the equivalent of their Thomas Kinkade, except instead of purposefully painting nostalgic historic scenes, they created images that were contemporary, but warmly evocative, that became nostalgic as time went on.

I like the pictures and would consider collecting the company’s prints, but I’m not as DINK as I once was, so I’ll have to watch for the foldered quarter folio prints at garage sales. I’m also considering scanning some of them to use elements within for some of my woodburning projects.

And as a final note, the book includes some of the Currier and Ives hidden animal prints, wherein the artists hid animals in the background of a picture, and the viewer could look at them to find the animals, kind of like a puzzle. I remembered when I saw these prints in the book that I had had a book of these as a child, no doubt a gift from my Nana who worked at the Milwaukee Art Museum. I don’t have those books any more, and I kind of miss them.

At any rate, worth a look if you’re into Americana or art. Also, prepare yourself for a couple of art books to come along hereabouts as I look for flipping books I can look at while I watch football games. I think my Man Points maintain status quo if I watch football while flipping through artsy books. The craft books, though, continually drain the Man Points.

Books mentioned in this review:

I’m a pretty big Cosby fan. I just watched Bill Cosby Himself earlier in the month, I’ve listened to his old comedy albums on audiocassette during long drives, and I’ve read a number of his books before.

This book is a short afterthought to some of his earlier works, though. It collects a series of shorter essays and musings, some meandering. They’re not particularly strong material, either. A bit of amusement, but not a lot of insight.

Still, it’s newer Cosby. I’ll take it over nothing but not over his earlier works.

Books mentioned in this review:

This book stems from an era, lo those 25 years ago, where it was slightly fashionable or at least humorous to oppose the impersonal answering machine. I didn’t really recollect it until I saw this book. But there were lots of books in that era about having funny answering machine messages and this book about leaving funny messages on someone’s answering machine. Wow, the novelty of that has passed, hey? Do you remember seeing actual pretaped humorous answering machine cassettes? How old am I?

As I mentioned, this book includes humorous messages you could leave to show your disdain for the answering machine. Its first chapter, in fact, is about bad outgoing messages and having to talk to a machine yourself. There are some messages purportedly from celebrities and then some from fake businesses. Finally, there was a section on jokes, most of them corny, but the only laugh I got out of the books was from the joke What do you get when you cross the Atlantic with the Titanic? About half way.

The book apparently rode a trend and was some kind of success at the time; this is a printing five years after the original edition. The publisher and authors also had a line of books with funny outgoing messages. I wondered about people who would buy these books new, which led me to wonder about people who buy these books second hand. Before I got too introspective, though, I smelled the book and realized that I hadn’t bught it at all–the book had been my mother’s, tucked among the four shelves of books in her office. How-to home improvement books, some antique reference she’d gotten from her sister, a couple dictionaries, some paperbacks from television shows she’d liked that I’d bought her (which I’m reading these days), and this book. I wonder where she got it. I wish I could ask.

At any rate, the hour I spent on the book was worthwhile for the anachronism of the subject matter and for the anachronism of the contemporary humor within it, not to mention one funny joke. That makes it worth a whole Reader’s Digest without the latter’s modern turn into Gaia-worship.

Books mentioned in this review:

This is a very interesting book.

It’s a collection of connected short stories that take place over the course of 20,000 years as mankind travels to other planets in the solar system, advances in technology, and slowly loses its civilization until the dogs and then the ants take over.

That is, cheap land (hydroponics replaces farming, which leads to cheap land), cheap transportation, and a benevolent central government make it so all mankind, or at least the ones in America and Europe, can live on lots of land. Cities (including the city in the lead short story that leads to the name of the book) break down as there are fewer people to fund services that no one really uses any more, but the local governments insist upon providing. Then, agoraphobia sets in as man grows very accustomed to his surroundings and does not want to leave his homestead for anything. This leads to a surgeon who specializes in Martian anatomy failing to help a friend, a Martian philosopher who has discovered a philosophy that could advance mankind hundreds of thousands of years. Then, a descendent of the fellow learns how to build a star drive, and another descendent advances dogs to speaking and learning.

The book has a frame story as a scholarly tract relaying myths and legends of man. A dog scholar, way in the future, discusses each story and outlines the controversies between other dog scholars who might or might not believe the stories or true or that the race of man existed at all.

The book is a quick enough read, and it really looks into a number of themes of race (human) versus individuals and the programming of the race (in the book, man is unperfectable in that he will always be warlike and future non-human civilizations must be protected from his influence). However, it’s not that straight man is bad, since other animal races, when raised, retain some bloodlust and desire to hunt. So it’s a very thought-provoking book, and although you can somewhat figure out what Simak thinks, the author leaves you room to ponder.

That’s old school science fiction.

I understand a later edition of the book has an additional epilog added. I’ll have to hunt that one down so I can find out what that means. The book I read was the old edition.

I’ve read some Simak before even though I can’t find any reports on the book the blog here. I don’t mind reading another if I find it at a book fair or even on my own shelves.

Books mentioned in this review:

This book collects some humorous anecdotes and quips from each president, ranked by how humorous the presidents were (according to Bob Dole, I guess) as well as the Al Gore and George W. Bush, who were running for President in the year in which the book was written.

Only a few of the anecdotes are truly examples of the President’s wit, and most of those come from recent presidents whose every utterance and quip lies either in archival television footage or in Presidential library complexes. Other anecdotes include amusing anecdotes about the President or the President’s family or insults and barbs directed at the President.

That said, it gives a little historical insight into the conditions of each President and his times and tribulations that everyone could probably use now and then. However, the arrangement of the Presidents not in historical order makes this a little more tricky to put into historical context. It also provides perspective into how vile politics has been throughout history. Somehow, in our current self-flagellating ways, we have forgotten this in a quest to be the worst ever at everything.

And as every one of these books leads to Jeopardy!, reading this book let me question the answer “This US President’s son died as a pilot in World War I.” So I got to impress my wife anyway.

A good little read.

Books mentioned in this review:

Now this is what Junk Beautiful book should have been. It relies on the writing of two sisters, both of whom must have married well since they have lots of houses and cottages amongst them to decorate with repurposed materials.

The projects outlined in the book don’t end up looking like jetsam that rolled onto the beach. The authors of this book add some fabric, upholstery, or Heaven forfend paint to make things look better and to fit in.

However, it’s still as much an interior design book as it is a project book. But it’s an easy couple of nights browsing. It’s saying something, but I read more of the accompanying text with this book than I do most.

Books mentioned in this review:

John Sandford is getting there, but unlike Ed McBain, he doesn’t have 50 years of good will built up.

The there is pissing me off with the ragging on Republicans and conservatives. It took him only until page 12 to identify that the hardened criminal in charge of the enterprise was a self-identified conservative; if this book were published in 2010 instead of 2009, he’d probably identify with the Teabaggers. Twelve pages later, George W. Bush is mentioned by name in a less than flattering light. On page 35, someone is told he looks like a Republican as an insult. Seriously, Sandford, knock it off.

The stories in the book (and now that he’s a serious hardback author, they must weigh in at 400 pages. Remember when only Stephen King did that?) revolve around a group of crackerjack criminals in town to rob people and hotels at the Republican National Convention and about a criminal getting out of prison, paraplegic, and blaming Davenport, so of course he’s going to get revenge. The two stores touch at points, made to do so to validate the decision to pad out the book with the second, but really, it’s two shorter novels in one. Cut aways to the other story pass for building suspense, I guess.

Finally, one comes to a head and then Davenport solves the other with a little help from a dream or a hint from the semiconscious mind. Sandford must have realized he’d achieved the proper weight to cost $30 in hardback. Then it ends with some dangling ends that Sandford can bring back another time, a la the hitwoman Rinker.

I’m being a little harsher on the book than it deserves, perhaps, but Sandford did his best to put me in an ill and opposing mood at the beginning of the book. By about page 50, the book drops off with the political “Rightwing nuts!” stuff and gets down to the plot. Which makes me wonder why he bothered to put it in at all and risk alienating 47% or more of the population. To establish his Minnesota Democrat bona fides? Brother, Al Franken is your senator. It’s worse than when my state elected a dead man, for crying out loud.

He’s really down to my last nerve on the political stuff and the gratuitous swearing. All the characters drop f-bombs in random spots and use it as people’s middle name throughout this book and the series. Come on, I gave up the mad swearing when I had kids, and I didn’t do it professionally for any part of my life. Grow up, Sandford. Grow up.

Books mentioned in this review:

Those of you who are my friends on Facebook know I’ve started baking and doing handcrafts and already suspect my masculinity. Now, you encounter a review of a book based on a television series based designed for little old ladies with cats. Well, in my defense, I would probably not have bought this book for myself even given my propensity for books based on television series and films. However, I bought a couple of these books at a garage sale or book sale quite some time ago to give to my sainted mother since I thought she wasn’t reading enough and she might read it. I don’t even know if she did or not, but now the book has passed to me. And I read it.

It’s about 250 pages in paperback; I think it’s a paperback original. Its pacing isn’t what I usually read. It’s not choppy or punchy. The first person voice of Jessica Fletcher spends a lot of time talking about side issues, musing on Key Lime Pies and the relationships of those around her. Two cases in point: The book spends 5 pages on Fletcher’s ride from the mainland of Florida to Key West for a weekend even though it’s mostly discussing key lime pies and the changes of scenery. Later, she spends a long paragraph hoping that a recurring character has a good relationship with an old friend even though these are not germane to the plot.

Maybe that’s how women think, or maybe that’s how Bain thinks women think. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been knocked early and often for my fallacious depiction of fictional women. But the pacing dawdles until about 50 pages remain, and then we get to the sleuthing. The story: Jessica’s retiree friend in Florida dies, and it might be murder. Jessica comes down and ends up investigating 100 or so pages later when they think it is murder. Was it the husband? Was it the businessman? Who are you kidding? It was the businessman. About 200 pages in, the pace starts up, and with 25 page to go, the first person narrator asks a question of a witness/involved person and doesn’t tell the audience what it is so she can point at the businessman and his lackeys dramatically. The main verbal trap relies on a klew obscured by 240 other pages of fluff and extraneous conversations among colorful but sort of extraneous characters.

But Bain’s a professional. He hit his word count and provided something that the target audience appreciates. I guess this is the 21st book in the series or something, eight years after the series went off the air. The series is actually ongoing to this day. As a writer, he’s doing something right. However, this is not the sort of thing I dig. And, sadly, I’ve got at least one more and maybe more to go. Curse my giving nature.

Interesting factoid: apparently, there are two series of novels based on the series. One is Jessica Fletcher’s novels and the other is Jessica Fletcher’s adventures in real life. Way to keep it going, fellows.

Books mentioned in this review:

Confession, gentle readers. I bought this book on impulse at the grocery store for nearly full price on Thursday after I watched a Jeff Foxworthy videocassette on Wednesday night. It seemed like kismet. So when I had some time to while away at an airport on Thursday, I brought this book and read it in a little over an hour.

I thought the book would be some amalgamation of Lay Low and Don’t Make The Big Mistake, a book I read apparently before I began keeping reviews or a book whose review disappeared into the aether like Martian Knightlife, The Complete Geek (An Owners Manual, some Scott Adams, and a touch of You Might Be A Redneck If….. However, it’s distinctly the latter.

Amusing, but no real laugh out loud moments. Foxworthy and co. apparently continue the “How to Really Stink” series by identifying ways to get hired and to underachieve at work. It recycles at least one gag from the video of almost 20 years earlier (20 years of Jeff Foxworthy? Hey, his little girls must be in or out of college by now).

Better than Lay Low… and The Complete Geek, anyway.

Books mentioned in this review:

 

Here is the review of Martian Knightlife that somehow didn’t make it onto the site last August.

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The more I read of James P. Hogan, the more I like him. That’s saying quite a bit considering that I liked him a lot when I first read him 25 years ago.

This book is a ripping adventure taking place on Mars. A Saint-like character (come on, in 2001, you’re selling a character as like The Saint? Really? How many science fiction readers in 2001 also read Leslie Charteris books from the 1930s and 1940s?) arrives on Mars and has two intertwined adventures. In the first, he investigates the case of a scientist, the first teleported, and why his bank accounts are cleaned out. Secondly, he helps some archeologists defend a significant dig from a mining corporation that has rights to the land.

As I mentioned, the plotting moves quickly (more so than The Legend That Was Earth), and Hogan drops good tidbits of libertarian philosophy while tackling some weighty questions of identity.

I recommend it.

Books mentioned in this review:

Book Report: Junk Beautiful Outdoor Edition by Sue Whitney with Kimberly Melamed (2009)

I picked this book up because I thought it was a crafting book designed around using junk for other purposes, kinda like Trash to Treasure or something.

Instead, it’s an interior design book that focuses on building your rooms with pieces of junk that you find in antique stores and rummage sales, sometimes combining (juxtaposing) disparate things for a new function. Like an old skateboard for a paper towel holder. Most of the stuff is not refurbished, refinished, or improved; instead, it’s put to some other use. Well, not all things are left untinkered with, and not all things are junk. One perfect sign that capped the room was a little weathered, wood-routed sign that cost $15 at the antique store. For an accent piece that most will overlook. That’s not junk. Some of the improvements involve glass tabletops special ordered. That’s not inexpensive.

So there’s not any crafty stuff in here, but I did browse for some ideas that probably have been put on simmer for my own use later. I have to say, though, that I did not care for the design herein. I’ve been a bachelor, so I’ve retasked some things, and no readers on this blog but my wife remember the red velvet covered industrial cable spool that served as a table, night stand, or entertainment center between the years 1994 and 2000 in my house. One can accept weathered, rusted, and otherwise ticky tack elements to a room or a whole room (or in this book, outdoor spaces) if one accumulates the pieces over time and doesn’t tend to them because, well, your grandparents or great aunts or whomever is getting older. But to freshly design things with this look is an abomination. In my aesthetic ca 2010. In a couple years, my backyard will no doubt be a combination of newer but used pieces with things I buy at yard sales to fill a niche. But it will be out of cheapness and necessity, not because I designed it to look that way.

Books mentioned in this review:

Surely you have wondered if I’ve stopped reading books entirely. Well, not entirely, but for the last several weeks I’ve focused on watching some of the backlog of films I have lying around here. With every book fair and garage sale I visit, I seem to pick up a couple of videocassette at fifty cents per, so I’ve been building a bit of a video library. I’ve been working to clear that out, and none of the books I picked up after the A.A. fair twin pack have really caught on. Most of them are still sitting on the little table beside my reading station.

I still manage to flip through the occasional craft book, though. This particular book is another book of fountain designs (Tabletop Fountains is the other I’ve read recently).

Like the preceding, it features a lavish photograph of the fountain along with step-by-step instructions on that particular fountain. It’s best for looking at the pictures and seeing the materials, really, because the step-by-step instructions don’t offer a lot of useful illustrations and suffer from the usual lots-of-steps-with-one-number syndrome.

Still, a pretty book to look at. Someday, I shall make a fountain.

Books mentioned in this review:

This edition is another Walter J. Black book club special that puts two of Erle Stanley Gardner’s Cool and Lam books into a single volume. I think that, at one time, Walter J. Black must have been the biggest publisher in the country. That said, it’s not designed to be a heirloom edition; the book does not have a single numbering system and is typeset independently in each of the two novels. That’s weird, but I bet it was inexpensive.

Up for Grabs finds Lam working for an insurance company that investigates potential claim fakers by sending them to a dude ranch in Arizona to see if they act according to their injuries. When the latest whiplash sufferer comes, Lam determines that this guy won’t tip his hand because he’s been tipped off. The insurance company wants to settle, but Lam goes off on his own and discovers a crazier scheme than mere insurance fraud.

Top of the Heap details a rather convoluted scheme involving mining companies as money laundering for a gambling house, at least until one of the mines turns out to actually have gold in it. Then the bullets fly and Lam has to get to the bottom of it even though he has originally been retained to hunt down two women used to make a fake alibi for a banker’s son.

In all of the stories, Lam is engaged to do something simple, but he finds something beneath it that causes him to go against the explicit wishes of his employer. Then he’s beaten a couple times but puzzles it out to get a big financial reward in the end. Formulaic, but enjoyable enough. Unfortunately, the titles are not tied enough to the plots that the title alone evokes memories of it. So much so that I had to look at the first few pages of Up for Grabs to remember what it was about.

One thing, though. Bertha Cool, Lam’s partner and sort of comic relief in the series, is presented as a huge woman. She has to squeeze her bulk among furniture when she’s not flinging it around with one hand like a gorilla. Picture that in your mind. Okay, you can imagine it. Then Gardner throws the weight into the text so you can realize how humongous (add your own echo in your imagination here) she is: 165. What? Dude, 165 is voluptuous, not ginormous.

I really like ESG, both for his Perry Mason books and these A.A.Fair-pseudonymed works. You can expect to read more book reports about them from time to time in the future. Like next year or so.

Books mentioned in this review:

This is a full evening play with four characters: a professor of Greek tragedies who tends to portray things in an Athens vs. Jerusalem template, which might just be an educated way to say “Anti-Semitism”; the Dean of his college, an old lover who doesn’t like the administrative life as much as she hoped; a Jewess student who decides on her own to write and stage a modernised version of Antigone instead of a paper for the aforementioned professor; and the girl’s boyfriend, a chemistry major uncommitted to chemistry but with a talent for the classics.

A lot’s going on in here. The girl takes on the arms race (its from the 1980s) with her Antigone, but becomes more stridently Jewish when the professor’s anti-Semitism is suggested to her. Additionally, she doesn’t want to settle any more for a Wall Street job. The professor discovers that he’s about to be retired as students stop signing up for his classes. Is it him or is it less appreciation of the concepts of tragedy in America in the latter part of the 20th century. So many things to ponder, but nothing really brought to the forefront or to a conclusion.

The play leaves the story kinda in media res. Some alliance shift, some changes happen, but in the end, the resolutions are temporary and illusory. I can’t tell if the professor’s point about the inability to appreciate tragedy is supposed to be shown through his story being tragic–or the opposite.

That said, how come so many plays are plays about plays or plays about colleges or screenwriters? Does this make plays less accessible and more insular or does it reinforce the fraternity of people who see plays through common languages and metaphors? Does the use of the word “Jewess” bespeak of my own anti-Semitism?

There’s a lot to think about in this one.

Books mentioned in this review: