Florence Reads

Everyone here seems to be so organized, I feel intimidated. Or rather I suppose I should feel intimidated, but I found out years ago that I was no good with plans, and I was never really able to feel guilty about it. Life is too short to set yourself goals, they're just an excuse to avoid the present.

Ahem. This was supposed to be a properly humble introduction. Well, so much for plans, right?

Anyway. I will try to post here at least once in a while and report on my aimless readings.

Actually, I do have a goal, and that's to read the Bible. Thanks to LT I am well on my way to achieve this, though it will probably still take a few years. I've been following the bible read at Le salon, which is currently at Nehemiah, but I'm pretty sure I finished it already and even started on Judith, but I'll probably have to start over because I forgot where I was.

Other books I may or may not read in 2014:
- The Origins of totalitarianism which I now own in two versions, paper and electronic.
- In Search of Lost Time. I finished tome 2 A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs a few weeks ago and enjoyed it a lot. Next up is Le côté de Guermantes.

On the "currently reading" front, nothing too definite yet, I've been taking a sort of break since Proust. I did go to the library last week and borrowed Pyongyang, a story by Guy Delisle about his trip to North Korea. Also half-heartedly started reading Black Moth by Georgette Heyer, but I'm not sure I will continue. And I just downloaded Justine ou les malheurs de la vertu and read the first page...

Nice to see you here. I never thought of cr as intimidating, overwhelming sometimes though.

Jealous you are reading Proust in French.

Welcome! Don't be fooled. Most of us have confessed that we cannot plan - or cannot follow plans we make. avaland/Lois - the originator of Club Read back in 2006 - calls us "cage free readers," which I quite like because though I love to plan and make lists, they do immediately feel like a cage to me. Anyway, enough about that!

I read Pyongyang a few years back - I'll be interested to see your reaction. I too am impressed that you're reading in French. I wish I could read French. :(

Hi Florence, I had a look at your library catalog and see that you read and have interesting books. I think group members will encourage you to express your ideas about your readings or discuss your appreciation of books read by others, for example, because you've read those books earlier.

I understand your feeling of being overwhelmed or even a bit intimidated, as most members on Club Read write longish reviews of their readings.

Before joining Club Read, I merely made occasional jottings for a small number of books, but since then, I have written reviews for every book I read. It has stimulated me to think more about my books, and I read rather more than less (although i sometimes get behind reviewing).

Alternatively, you can just write short comments and join the snattering duck chorus.

Welcome :)

Don't worry - by mid-March, there are just a few people left in any state of organization - we all are great in Jan (well... at least for a few days) and things go downhill from there. This is your thread - you do whatever you want in it -- we are just going to call from the gallery and spoil any attempt in organization :)

Thanks everyone for your welcome! In an attempt to organize things a bit, I have updated my "To read" collection on LT. Those are books I own and actually intend to read some day, although for some of them I'm not so sure to be honest.

Non-fiction:
Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years
Histoire de l'Art : Edition intégrale
Imperial
L'empire du moindre mal : Essai sur la civilisation libérale
The Origins of Totalitarianism
The Social Construction of What?
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions

Fiction:
La carte et le territoire
The Portrait
Les immémoriaux
Justine ou les malheurs de la vertu

I have now read a few more pages from Justine and it sounds like fun, so I think I may move this one to the "Now reading" collection. I have two versions of it, the first one, from the Bibliothèque Nationale de France's Gallica collection, is a PDF file with scans of the third edition, printed in Holland in 1801. It bears the mention "Enfer 1175" on the inside, written in pencil. L'enfer (hell) was the part of the Bibliothèque Nationale where forbidden books were stored. The second version is an e-pub from Gutenberg.org with modernized spelling, easier to read but not as much fun.

And Pyong Yang becomes the first book I finished in 2014. A quick and enjoyable read, even if a bit disturbing. Nothing really new knowledge wise, but an interesting human experience.

Meanwhile I managed to overcome the obstacle that stopped me reading Love and Hydrogen for a while. I just skipped the story that I couldn't read and started on the next one. I like this book but some of the stories are really too disturbing for me. I'll do this again if I have to (skip a story). I'm about halfway through.

Also read some 50 pages of Justine ou les malheurs de la vertu. So far nothing special to report. I've been wanting to read Sade for a while, he intrigues me. For the moment the mystery remains. I'm not sure what this book is about, really. I'll probably need to read some commentaries later.

I just read Pyogyang in December. I like Delisle's take on his experiences.

8: I did, too. Didn't you mention another of Delisle's books in your thread? that's one of the reasons I borrowed this one. The other reason is that his name came up while searching for Les ignorants, which was lying around my parent's house during the holidays, doubtless brought there by BIL#2 who is a great fan of BD (comic books). I started reading it but hadn't finished it when I managed to escape. I looked for it at the library but couldn't find it. I'll look again on Saturday when I bring back Pyongyang.

This morning I listened to a podcast of a radio show about the Great War. I hadn't really intended to read about it, but I became interested when reading some references here, and this podcast (haven't finished it yet) already started to rattle some of my preconceptions. I looked around for a good French book about this but haven't found any so far. I added The War that Ended Peace to my wishlist.

I am reading The War That Ended Peace; so far, I am not as enamored of it as I was of MacMillan's earlier book, Paris 1919. At least at the beginning, it is focusing on England and Germany.

I read Delisle's Jerusalem last year and liked it enough to buy some more of his books (although Pyongyang came from the library). Unlike Pyongyang, he really captures Jerusalem.

>11 dchaikin:, I didn't know he'd done a book on Jerusalem, Dan. I might have to check that out. Pyongyang made me a bit uncomfortable at times, because I felt like he was mocking the North Korean people a bit when talking about how they perceived the world and North Korea's position in it. It seemed unfair to posit that people living in a dictatorship, fed a diet of propaganda and deprived of outside sources of information, should be able to see through the BS.

10> Thanks for the comment Rebecca. I looked at Paris 1919 and it does look interesting, but first I am interested in reading about the events and general state of the world that led to the war.

11> Jerusalem? Oh my, I hadn't noticed that one. I'll look for it at the library. There is also one about a Chinese city, I'm not sure which one.

12> I didn't see it that way personally. On the contrary I saw him as genuinely interested and trying to understand. The one thing that made me uneasy was lending 1984 to his translator. That is not only a cruel joke but it could have been very dangerous for the Korean guy.

#13 If you are interested in the state of the world before the war, I can also recommend Barbara Tuchman's The Proud Tower, which I read several years ago. It covers the same time period as MacMillan's book but looks at a few discrete topics, some cultural, in depth. It convinced me that Europe was a world in turmoil at that period, far from being a golden age as it is often depicted. So far, as I read MacMillan, it is complementary in the material it covers rather than repetitive.

14> Thanks! Another book in my wishlist I guess, although one of the reviews on LT has given me pause. I'll look for more reviews on Amazon.

I finished the podcast about WW1 this morning. One thing I took away from it is the extreme violence that was presided over the war from the beginning. At first only verbal violence with the mutual hatred and accusations of degeneration between the French and Germans. But from the beginning extreme physical violence was perpetrated, including against civilians, during the German invasion of Belgium, and of course things didn't improve during the course of the war. These are two of the things that foreshadowed and paved the way for later atrocities by the Nazis and Bolsheviks.

And I now have a French book in my wishlist: 14-18, retrouver la guerre which I understand is precisely about this theme of the violent heritage of WW1, and was co-written by one of the participants in the podcast.

Still reading Justine, and now that I have moved past the introductory chapters, it's pretty obvious what the book is about, and I feel rather silly for expecting something else. After all, this is Sade. I guess what threw me was reading his name mentioned in relation to the libertine philosophy, but I doubt I will learn much about it reading this book. Maybe I should have read La philosophie dans le boudoir? Or maybe not. Anyway, I'm still curious so I will keep reading, but I doubt I will have anything intelligent to say, so I probably won't post about it.

>15 FlorenceArt:, Florence, I'll be so interested to hear about 14-18, retrouver la guerre - it sounds fascinating but I don't know a word of French and I don't see that its been translated into English. Which WWI-related podcast are you listening to? Is it also in French?

17> Yes, the podcast is in French, sorry. It's a radio show from the national station France Culture that often provides books for my wishlist. The book is not available as an e-book, which is annoying, but maybe I can find it at the library. I tend not to read paper books I buy, but if I borrow them I know I have to bring them back to I feel obliged to read them. Silly, no?

>18 FlorenceArt:, That's why I now have shelves of unread paper books and relatively fewer unread ebooks. I can relate perfectly.

Justine ou les malheurs de la vertu

The book I am reading is Justine ou les malheurs de la vertu, and the touchstone keeps converting into La nouvelle Justine but that's not it. The book I am reading (though I probably won't finish it) is the first version, Sade's first book. La nouvelle Justine is an expanded version of it, where he piled up the juicy sex stuff because he needed money.

The book is structured a bit like a feuilleton, with episodes where the virtuous heroine gets molested in various ways, interspersed with philosophical debates between her and her oppressors, where Sade exposes his philosophy. This is the part that interested me, as I had been given to understand that Sade was connected with the libertine philosophers, which I know nothing about but had a sort of vague positive idea of.

The sex parts are a bit unsettling, but rather fun at the beginning at least, because it's not always easy to figure out what is described, due to the 18th century language and circumlocutions used, some of which are rather entertaining.

The real shock for me was the philosophical parts. Sade's philosophy is pretty simple: there is no god, and therefore morality is a sham. Contrary to what we are being taught, there is no reward to virtue either in this world (as repeatedly illustrated by the way the virtuous Justine keeps being abused), or in the next which doesn't exist. Our only obligation is to follow nature's laws, and nature is unjust and violent. Murder is perfectly justified as long as it serves the murderer's personal interests, however small the expected benefits. Moreover, murder serves nature herself by expediting the recycling of matter that helps her renew herself. No reason is given for why we should serve nature if it's so unjust (though of course in this reasoning it's not unjust, only... natural I guess). I suppose it was a common idea at the time (see Rousseau, who I should probably read some day), but Sade turns it over on its head, because I think the prevalent theory (or at least what I know of Rousseau's theory, maybe it wasn't that prevalent?) was that nature was benevolent, and men's civilization corrupted it.

Also, reading the French Wikipedia article on Sade in a failed attempt to find some redeeming feature I may have missed, I learned a few things that completed my education and corrected the misconceived ideas I had about him. He was never imprisoned because of his writings. In fact, he started and did most of his writing in prison. The reason he was imprisoned (his mother in law having saved him from execution but being unwilling to exert her influence to free him) was his actions, which almost always involved molesting women, and in one case little girls.

I guess that's the end of a myth for me. I can't say Sade was my hero but I did have a vaguely positive idea of him, based on what I had heard and read.

To end on a positive note though, although Sade abundantly put his theories in practice as far as sex was involved (and he seemed to have had a lot of success with women, even at the end of his life, when he was obese, relatively poor and under a sort of house arrest in an insane asylum), when he was in a position to take revenge on his mother in law after the revolution, when the tables were turned and he was the one with influence and she the renegade, he didn't take advantage of it and indeed saved her life as she had saved his.

Of course this didn't last long and he was quickly imprisoned again, this time under Napoleon's consulate. There is a drawing on Wikipedia of Napoleon throwing Sade's book in the fire.

Now to find some info on the libertines. I hope they will be a little more likeable...

I read a moderately interesting book about de Sade, At Home with the Marquis de Sade, by Francine du Plessix Gray largely because I really liked her book about her larger-than-life parents, Them: A Memoir of Parents. What has stuck in my mind is how terrible he was to his family and how inmates of the Bastille were accorded some interesting privileges.

Justine, or the misfortunes of Virtue. There is a link to an English translation of the book. De Sade is one of those authors that many people read about rather than reading books written by him. Justine seems to be his most accessible work and I enjoyed reading your review of it. I have not read anything by him. but might do one day.

There is quite a good bio-film about him starring Daniel Auteuil called Sade http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0217019/?ref_=fn_al_tt_2

21> Rebecca, while looking at the book you mentioned, I found another one that looks intriguing: The Sadeian Woman by Angela Carter. Apparently she says that Sade was the founder of feminism. That's a little hard to swallow, but on the other hand it's true that Justine is very egalitarian. People are just as violent and immoral regardless of their sex or social class. That gave me the little nudge I needed to keep reading Justine, and I may also read Carter's book later.

Thanks, Florence, for that link. I read Angela Carter for the first time this year and found her quite interesting. From the little I know about de Sade, I'd be hard pressed to call him the founder of feminism!

Nothing intelligent to say, but fascinated by your comments on Sade.

I finished 14-18, retrouver la guerre last week-end. It's not a recent book (it was published in 2000) and I'm rather frustrated that I couldn't find it in e-version, but maybe the publisher will issue one later this year? In the meantime I borrowed it at the library, but I would have liked to keep it and annotate it for future reference. It's not a history book in that it doesn't give a narrative of events, and I should probably have read a more event oriented book before this one, but it was a very interesting and eye-opening read for me. My knowledge of the events is rather sketchy, as all my history teachers at school were much more interested in the Russian revolution than in the war itself. Plus it's been a long time since I was at school... Anyway, this was a very interesting read and I added a lot of books to my wishlist as a result of reading it. That's always a danger with non-fiction. ;-)

As I said, this book is not a description of events or causes but rather an attempt to show the far-reaching consequences of this war and how it shaped the history of the 20th century.

The book is structured in thee parts: violence, the crusade, and loss.

VIOLENCE

From the very beginnings, with the German invasion of Belgium, this war reached a level of violence never seen before at this scale, and which unfortunately set a precedent for the following conflicts. This includes violence against civilians. Did you know that the term concentration camp appeared during this time? Of course these camps were "only" for keeping foreign civilians who had the bad taste to be living in enemy territory when the war started, or displaced populations from occupied territories, often enrolled in forced labour. They were often imprisoned next to captured soldiers, but contrary to them there was no international treaty to give them rights.

The violence toward civilians was used as a weapon to vilify the enemy and raise proper indignation at home, and then promptly forgotten. Contrary to soldiers, the civilians' sufferings were never really recognized.

There was also the Armenian genocide (although genocide is a word created after WW2), which again was used as a propaganda weapon, then forgotten.

Of course the violence was also on the battlefield. This was the beginning of modern war in the sense that all the old honor rules were broken (but always by the other side of course, which showed clearly what filthy degenerate bastards they were), and non-governmental organizations such as the Red Cross started taking care of humane concerns such as care for the wounded and prisoners, leaving the armies' hands free to take care of the killing end of things. The "trêve des brancardiers" (an informal ceasefire to allow each side to fetch their wounded and dead) disappeared, and many men died because they could not be reached in time to tend to their wounds. Taking prisoners meant being slowed down and risk being killed, so captured or wounded enemies were often shot down instead.

THE CRUSADE

The onset of war came as a shock to most people. THAT was a shock to me. I mean, couldn't these people see what was coming? Well no, they couldn't, maybe because it hadn't happened yet. Duh.

But after the initial shock came acceptance and determination, mostly without enthusiasm although there were manifestations of it in capitals and large cities. The pacifist movements virtually disappeared overnight everywhere (they lasted a bit longer in the UK where they had been especially active formerly; specifically, they lasted until August 3). Transnational organizations such as the Socialist International or even the Catholic Church suddenly appeared irrelevant as their members joined in the national fervor. But what's more, this mobilization and determination lasted until the end of the war, with of course some ebb and flow but basically the acceptance and voluntary participation to the war were renewed for four years. Of course everybody wanted the war to end, but they wanted it to end with a victory and they weren't willing to stop until this was assured.

These nationalist feelings and the hatred of the enemy, paradoxically, tended to be presented as or wrapped in universal values. Each side saw itself as defending civilization against the barbarians on the other side. In fact, the enemies were so degenerate as to barely deserve to be called human. French scientists published studies demonstrating how degenerate and devoid of any intellectual or moral qualities the Germans were. Germans considered that the presence of colonial troops from Africa in the allied armies was proof that their enemies were a threat to civilization. Each side made full use of reports of atrocities committed by the other. In France, there was concern over the children born by women who were raped by German soldiers. How could children with such tainted blood be expected to learn anything and function in a civilized society?

The enemy was not just a threat to your own nation, it was a threat and a taint on the whole of humanity that should be eradicated.

A side note on Freud, who was a patriot like everybody else with a son fighting in the war, but seems to have been one of the very few intellectuals not caught in this sudden loss of common sense and decency, which of course, being Freud, he analyzed. That's one karma point for Freud, and minus points for practically every European politician, scientist or writer of that generation.

LOSS

In this last part the authors attempt to go beyond the comfortable remoteness of statistics and approach the pain. Practically the whole French population lost at least someone to the war. Son, husband or fiancé, father, brother, cousin, friend... Many lost several loved ones. Vera Brittain lost her fiancé, her brother and two of her friends within a few months. And this at a time when the progress of medicine had already made death much more remote than it had been in the past.

The mass mourning and remembrance ceremonies were a way to mediate the personal pain, but it did not work for everyone. Plus, mourning was all well and good but an excess of it could be frowned upon. You were supposed to be proud that your loved ones gave their lives for the homeland.

In fact, the authors hypothesize that our contemporary rejection of death and mourning may have its roots in this period. They don't have an explanation for it though, but it seems that the traditional mourning rites (such as wearing black) started to disappear at this time.

Next step in this WW1 theme: I guess I'll continue going backward. After having read a book on the impact and consequences of the war on the 20th century, I'll start on a narrative of how it started: July 1914, Countdown to War. And then after that, if I haven't lost my steam, maybe something on the causes of the war?

Some additional thoughts about WW1. I kept being reminded of René Girard and his theories about violence. War is always defensive. Either the other guy started it, or you were forced to start it preemptively.

Likewise, people get killed in the war but who's doing the killing? You give your life for your country but you don't kill for your country.

Excellent synopsis of 14-18, Retrouver la Guerre. I guess it's a characteristic of every war that each side sees themselves in the right and endorsed by God, etc? Interesting that the French and Germans characterized the other as sub-human.

Very interesting, and too bad it's not translated into English; my French wouldn't be up to it so I appreciate your review.

Hi Florence. I'm late catching up. Enjoyed your reviews of Innocence and Manhattan especially, and liked the quotation from Manhattan. I look forward to following your thread.

Hi Florence - I also read Delisle last year and had to get the rest of his books, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I enjoyed your reviews of Innocence and Manhattan, and the quotation from Manhattan. Have a great reading year!

Enjoyed your notes on 14-18, retrouver la guerre

Just catching your review on the WWI book whose title I can't translate and taking your descriptions of all that mess. Disturbing stuff.

I've been starting way too many books lately, so I am happy to report that I just finished one too. Although it's a reread, and a short one Equal Rites. But it was worth it and I needed emergency comfort.

On the not-so comfortable front, I am still hesitating as to Justine. Shall I finish it or just leave it at that? A funny inversion happened in my reaction to it. The sex scenes are becoming more and more disturbing, involving more and more people and also, extra-disturbingly, fecal matter. I think. On the other hand, I am starting to view the philosophical side in a more balanced way and trying to put it into perspective. I still don't feel particularly open to condoning murder, but I can see where he's coming from. I will try to post about it in more detail later.

Still reading L'analphabète qui savait compter which is nice, but somehow I got distracted and I need to get on with it. And about to start Alter's translation of Job in The Wisdom books: Job, Proverbs and Ecclesiastes.

Oh, and I forgot, I also started (yeah, I know...) Snow by Benjamin Rivers (can't get the touchstone to work), which I bought because of a promotional email sent by Comixology and turns out to be a good read.

I still don't feel particularly open to condoning murder, but I can see where he's coming from.

This is an entertaining line regardless (and I appreciate your lack of openness (but I do wonder about the "particularly") ) but I'm reading it just after listening to part of Five Days at Memorial which covers an instance where doctors performed euthanasia without actually consulting the patients or their families -

Anyway, curious where you are going with this.

And I enjoyed Equal Rites back when I could read Pratchet.

>26 FlorenceArt:

The onset of war came as a shock to most people. THAT was a shock to me. I mean, couldn't these people see what was coming? Well no, they couldn't, maybe because it hadn't happened yet.

A World Undone provides a nice discussion of this issue. It is odd. On the one hand people demonstrated in the streets in favor of war. They were actually looking forward to it. Many prominent statesmen believed that a war could be prevented. Behind the scenes subterfuge by hawkish diplomats undermined the efforts of the former.

Urania, i think that the consensus now among historians is that people were not happy about the war. Yes, there were demonstrations in big cities but they seem to have expressed a minority view. Which doesn't mean that people were pacifists, that happened after the war. They didn't want the war but once it started they believed it their duty to fight for their country, and win.

36> Sorry for the irony that made my meaning unclear, I do that too often. I definitely don't approve of murder. But the thing that shocked me most in Sade's philosophy is that he placed on the same level things that for me are worlds apart, namely sexual transgression and murder. In fact, I think this is a reflection on the morals of his time.

At the beginning of the book, Justine is convicted of theft (after being wrongly accused by her employer) and she is going to be executed for this. In real life, Sade was convicted of sodomy and would have been executed for it if his mother in law hadn't obtained a "lettre de cachet" condemning him to prison instead.

So far in the book, Justine has been an involuntary accessory to murder twice: first, she escapes from prison because another prisoner sets fire to it. 22 people die in the fire so that they can get away. Later on Justine is (unaccountably) set free by one of her tormentors who caught her trying to free his daughter, whom he is planning to murder. Justine is forced to flee and leave the poor girl to her fate. However, none of this seems to weigh much on her conscience. She does start feeling guilt later in the book, and that is when she loses her virginity through a gang rape.

So I guess that in this context, it is understandable that Sade, who set out to reject the morality of his time, included murder in the taboos he considered worthless. Because at that time it may indeed have been considered no worse than theft or sodomy. This is hard to accept for us, and I don't accept it in a 21st century context, but I can understand it in Sade, or at least set it aside and keep reading.

I saw some nuance behind the line. I hadn't/haven't concluded you condone murder. :) As for reading the work in its context, I imagine that even Sade's time not everyone bought his arguments (so far?).

40> Well, considering the fact that he lived through 3 or 4 regimes and every one of them put him in prison, I'd say the time was not ripe for his ideas yet.

However, I can see how he was part of a movement that shaped our own thinking, and that is the part that interests and disturb me still. This extreme liberalism, to the point of accepting murder as normal, doesn't it somehow resonate?

As long as I can remember having a political opinion, I have considered myself a liberal, meaning that given a choice between State regulation of political, intellectual, economic and personal life, and just leaving things alone, I tend to lean toward leaving things and people alone. But it seems obvious to me that liberalism may have reached its limits and at the very least, is now in a crisis. I am now wondering if perhaps I have been wrong all those years, and if so, what should I believe in? Freedom, and especially freedom of speech, is something I am deeply attached to, and so is democracy. Can you have one without the other? Should you? And if too much freedom is maybe not such a good thing, then who should decide what is free and what is not?

In my TBR list is a book called L'empire du moindre mal (The Empire of the Lesser Evil?). In this book the author explains how economic and social liberalism are two sides of the same coin, which has always seemed obvious to me but is shocking to many people in France, where economic liberalism is right next to fascism in the list of insults that can be used to put an end to any political discussion, while social liberalism is considered the only possible attitude for civilized people. I bought this book because the author seems to know his subject well, and because I feel it's time for me to question my convictions. Even though I doubt I will end up agreeing with him, I think I will learn a few things about liberalism, how it was born and how it evolved, and maybe how dangerous it might be.

Sorry, I'm afraid this is not very intelligible. I had started to write a post about Sade where I wanted to discuss all this, but didn't get very far. Maybe later I will try to express my thoughts in a more structured way...

Funny - I associate less-government sensibilities in the US with right-wing politics. But, really, there is a split in those issues. State regulation of economics in the US is considered liberal in the sense that ideal regulation would prevent things like the 2001/2008 economic flops. Also in the sense that the taxes have some use greater than their cost. State regulation of personal life is generally considered socially conservative.

Anyway, I'm starting to see where you are going with Sade.

Exactly. Economic laisser faire is right wing, while leaving people alone is left wing. I never understood why I had to choose between the two, although thinking about it now I may have different reasons in each case. Remember that I am French, from a country where government meddles in just about everything except personal lives. And that meddling hasn't proved to be very efficient. However, when I see what extreme economic liberalism has brought us, it seems pretty obvious to me that the "invisible hand" may need a little help now and then to get things right.

My preference for leaving people alone if they aren't hurting anybody is much more personal and emotional. I just don't like to be told what to do.

I am totally going to point out to some of the conservatives I know that they espouse "extreme economic liberalism." It's interesting that these terms have such different meanings in different countries.

In the US, we want absolute freedom for money to move in a completely unfettered fashion. People, on the other hand, need to be severely regulated. This is what I see as a cultural contradiction in right-wing conservative politics. Oh ... and we want guns to move freely as well. The Tennessee legislature has just introduced a bill that would allow people to carry guns in all public parks. Would you want to send your children to play in a park if such a law were passed? We already let people carry guns in bars in Tennessee. I do not frequent bars anymore. Alas when the day comes that loaded guns are allowed in coffee shops.

Wow. You mean that people are allowed to come in armed in a place where they are going to drink? But not in a coffee shop?? I'll never understand the U.S.

Not that I especially want people to be armed in coffee shops, mind you.

Florence,

I have lived in the US all my life and I do not understand it either.

Forgot to mention that I did finish one book, although it was a very quick read: Snow by Benjamin Rivers. The touchstone is still not working, probably because there are only two records of it on LT, one of them being mine, that I had to add manually. It's the first time in forever that I actually manage to finish a comic book. Well no, there was Pyongyang not very long ago. I used to read comics mostly for the beauty of images but I seem to be more drawn to stories now.

In the case of Snow, both are beautifully minimalistic: story and images combine to create wonderfully rich and lovable characters, using only a few words and lines. I enjoyed it a lot.

Very interesting conversation. The thing (well, one of the many things) that drives me crazy about the right wing in the US is that they claim they want to keep the government out of people's lives/don't want regulations and yet they are the ones who most want to regulate women's and gay people's lives and sexuality.

Urania - I just got back to California from Arizona, which is always an interesting comparison. In one of the libraries I visited in AZ, there was a lockbox provided right inside the door of the public library for people to lock their guns in while they were in the library because guns were not allowed in there. The 5 or 6 lockers were empty, making me wonder if people who read perhaps don't habitually wear handguns.

In Minnesota, where I am from, churches had to post signs asking people to please not bring weapons inside, after the state passed a law allowing the carrying of concealed weapons.

Justine (suite et fin)

As was probably predictable, I don't think I will finish Justine ou les malheurs de la vertu. But I would like to share my thoughts on it, even though I have already discussed some of them in this thread. So this is an attempt to sum up my comprehension of his philosophy, and some of my own thoughts on the matter.

SADE'S PHILOSOPHY

Although a virulent atheist, Sade seems to put nature in the place of God, in that she has a plan for us and we are supposed to conform to it. Fighting nature's rules is both useless and, in a way, immoral, if Sade can be said to have any kind of moral. For example, if Nature has given us the means and the inclination to murder people, there's no reason we should refrain to do so if it serves our interests. We may even be serving Nature as we do so. Living beings, including humans, need to die so that others may take their place and Nature may renew herself. So go ahead and kill your neighbor if you feel like it, it's all for the best in the grand scheme of things.

Nature has made us all equal, but society creates inequalities. Morality, in addition to being a worthless human construct, is also a tool used by the powerful to maintain the poor at their heel. It's not very difficult to be virtuous when you have everything you need and are surrounded by slaves who are at your beck and call (which, incidentally, is how Sade grew up). The poor, on the other hand, have no other option than crime if they want to rise out of their misery.

Laws only serve to make everybody unhappy. If, say, incest is forbidden in a society, those who practice it will be unhappy because of the obstacles society, religion and law put in their way. Others will refrain from it against their desire and be unhappy too. In another society where incest is allowed, people who have such an inclination will not be forced to curb or hide their desire and will be happier. People without such an inclination will, on the other hand, not be made unhappy by this. Everybody wins.

Sade also tackles the (for me) main difficulty of his theory: shouldn't we at least refrain from hurting each other? Well, no. My only rule of conduct is my own interest and comfort. What is it to me that others suffer, as long as I get what I want? I may refrain from turning against them if I know I will benefit directly from cooperating with them, but that's all. There's no point in going out of my way to avoid hurting people in the hope that they will do the same for me. Whatever benefits I may occasionally get from their behavior does not outweigh the discomfort of constantly checking my own desires and inclination.

A FEW PERSONAL COMMENTS

I was shocked that Sade places all sins on the same level, including murder. I think though that it probably reflects the fact that life was not as precious to 18th century people as it is to us. I already mentioned the idea that to Justine, being an accessory to murder is a lesser sin than losing her virginity through no fault of her own.

To me, rejecting both the dominant sexual morality and the ban on murder is clearly a case of throwing away the baby with the bathwater, but if I think on it a bit more, I can see that at least Sade is being entirely consistent in his ethics, or absence thereof. And this leads me to question my own ethics. I tend to consider freedom as a personal right, and a non-negotiable part of democracy. But obviously there are some things I don't think people should be free to do, the first amongst them being murder. I have been thinking of freedom as an absolute value, but in fact I am not treating it as such, otherwise I would accept all of Sade's conclusions.

So what are the implications of this for my own personal philosophy? I'm not sure. I guess one of the dubious advantages of growing older is that the number of things you are certain about grows smaller and smaller. But it's not easy to let go of that particular certainty.

Anyway, at this point I should probably make it a priority to read L'empire du moindre mal. And this, unsatisfactory as it is, will have to be the conclusion to this post. (Though on the other hand, it means I have a new book to read, that's something, right?)

Thanks for boiling down Sade's philosophy and in this instance consistency in ethics would lead to a sort of survival of the fittest society.

>53 baswood: Yes, he never says so exactly but that's the impression I got too. But On The Origin of Species was published in 1859, 60 years after Justine (1799), so that's a bit of an anachronism I suppose. Sade probably didn't see it exactly the way we do.

I have been enjoying your thoughts on Sade.

>51 fannyprice: - Holy moly. No pun intended. Really.

Very interesting to read about Sade -- thanks.

Following on my liberal self-bashing trend, I am now reading (re-reading so far, it turns out I had already read a good chunk of this short book before being distracted by other things) L'Empire du moindre mal (The Empire of Lesser Evil). Sade gets a mention as "The dark face of the Enlightenment philosophy", which I find to be a good description. Plato is also mentioned (earlier in the book), and many other books that I will have to add to my wishlist. Not sure about Plato though, I have never managed to warm up to his philosophy which is the exact opposite of what Michea describes liberalism as: an attempt to manage human societies by using mechanisms that will automatically organize individual egoisms in a functioning society, without having to appeal to said individual's ethical values, which are seen as unreliable and dangerous because they may differ from person to person.

It's really fascinating to see Michea take apart all my most cherished convictions and expose their history and the myths behind them. Unfortunately his arguments seem to be only negative, and I'm afraid I will be left with nothing at all after he leaves all the fragments of my beloved liberalism lying of the floor. I suspect that his alternative to liberalism is the good old French left wing morality. Seeing as how this is the same left wing that refused for decades to admit the spectacular failure of Marxism as a system of government, I don't think I'm interested, thank you very much.

Anyway, sorry this is a bit disjointed and random. I will try to post my thoughts in a more structured way after I finish the book.

I'm really bad at keeping this thread updated, aren't I? I tried to write a more coherent review for L'Empire du moindre mal but failed. However I would recommend this book, although it is very much focused on French politics and will probably be a bit confusing outside of France (I didn't even know all of the people he referred to).

Right now, after a Maigret spree, I am reading The House of Mirth. I like the book but I don't like that it's probably going to have an unhappy ending.

And I have started The Panic Virus in an attempt to understand, and in my own small way be able to fight, what I see as a growing tendency around me to believe the wildest rumors when a short Google search should be enough to convince you that they are very far from the truth.

>58 FlorenceArt:, I read The Panic Virus a couple years ago. It's a great - if totally disturbing - read. On the topic of ridiculous "science" news, the other day I was reading about people who advocate "armpit detoxing", which then prompted me to spend an afternoon lost in the interwebs watching people advocate various practices based on utterly dubious beliefs about how the human body works.

I'm not going to finish House of Mirth. The social situations depicted make me squirm, and I don't enjoy reading it. Instead I have started another Maigret, and bought a couple of Georgette Heyer to have lying around on my iPad when I get tired of Maigret as a light reading.

On the non-fiction front I am still reading The Panic Virus and finding it informative and scary. I also bought Deadly Choices: How the Anti-Vaccine Movement Threatens Us All in an attempt to gather as many facts and statistics as I can. But the problem is, in order to use this knowledge I have to remain articulate enough to actually talk and not just foam with rage and scare off my interlocutor. Sigh.

Also, I just read about a book called Masculinities which has only now been translated to French. It sounds interesting so I added it to my wishlist. I've read about gender of course (mostly blog posts and articles though, no book unless you can count Susan Faludi's Backlash), but mostly centered on the female role. It would be interesting to read about how you manufacture males I think. Has any of you read this book?

I am on summer holiday since yesterday, and leaving for Auvergne on Tuesday. In the meantime I am stocking my iPad with books.

I finished The Panic Virus. I bought this book because I was looking for arguments to oppose to anti-vaccine people around me. Then I started reading it and the author claimed that he wrote the book to answer the question of why we come to believe things that are clearly untrue, and that 15 minutes of Googling can prove to be untrue. This struck me as a very good question, but unfortunately on that too, the book ended up being a disappointment. It's not a total loss, but it didn't deliver as much as I expected. Deadly Choices, which I started next, is much more satisfying to me. Facts are presented clearly, and there is more information I think. Anyway I am stocking up on anecdotes and statistics just in case I ever manage to discuss this rationally with anyone.

Books I just bought and may read while on holiday:
We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves (thanks Dan!)
The Goldfinch

Plus there is this paper book I bought years ago but never got around to read, because it's on paper: The Social Construction of What?. To be honest I'm not sure where it is right now. But I'll try to find it and take it with me on the train I think.

My sympathies on your self bashing. Interesting about Sade and on your response.

Thanks Dan :-) This really bothers me, the realization that I have come to in the last few years that liberalism (and keep in mind that I mean it in both the French sense of economic liberalism, and the American sense of social liberalism) is just a giant failure. Michéa holds that this is a feature, not a bug. That it was inscribed in the DNA of the movement from the start, even though the founding fathers would be horrified if they saw what it has come to today. But these same founding fathers set out to install a government system where the strong ethical sense of humans is willfully ignored, where actors in the economic, political and social sphere are encouraged to set aside all sense or morality and act ruthlessly to serve their personal interests. And this is how we now have whole industries dedicated to making us addicted to products that are bad for our health (my comment, not Michéa's).

He cites Orwell and his notion of "common decency" a lot, as an antidote to this. Maybe I should read Orwell? I only read 1984 in high school.

>60 FlorenceArt: I once ranted about the misogyny inherent in Edith Wharton's oeuvre and was shouted down. I really loathe her books, and I use that word sparingly. I do rate The Glimpses of the Moon as one of my favorite novels, but it's almost a self-parody of her other novels.

Here's an article you might find interesting: http://www.nytimes.com/1986/11/16/books/the-woman-who-hated-women.html

Thanks Diana, I saved the article and started reading it. At least I got confirmation that I was right to stop reading, as what I was dreading does happen in the book. I can't stand the dread of seeing a story progress inexorably to a horrible act. I haven't read enough to have an opinion on Wharton's misogyny though.

>63 FlorenceArt: Flo, I think you need something like this.

>60 FlorenceArt: >64 LibraryPerilous: There was an expanded? version of that article about Wharton by Janet Malcolm in the book I just read by her, Forty-one False Starts. It made me feel better about never having read anything by her.

>67 rebeccanyc: I'm going to have to read more Malcolm. She writes so well!

>65 FlorenceArt:, >67 rebeccanyc: Joe Queenan tells an anecdote, in One for the Books, about stumbling upon a reading group edition of Ethan Frome--one of those P.S. or Oprah's Book Club versions that has discussion questions at the end. Of Ethan Frome, the reading group was supposed to ponder, "Is this book just too grim to be enjoyable?" Ha.

>66 dchaikin: Thank you, I think I do!

>67 rebeccanyc: I added Forty-One False Starts to my wishlist recently, probably after reading your review? Anyway I'm interested because it's about writing and art.

>68 LibraryPerilous: LOL. After that article I'm not reading any more Wharton I'm afraid, she is ruined for me.

Just finished We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves. Not sure how to rate it. The book contained many scenes of social awkwardness which made me intensely uneasy. I even considered abandoning it, but it turned out that I was almost at the end already. Anyway, this prevented me enjoying the book although the story was very touching and the narrator too. Probably due to my personal weaknesses more than anything else.

Also read Frederica, which was not as good as The Grand Sophy but a nice recreation anyway.

What to start next? I think I might take up Proust again. Fiction does not seem to be working very well for me right now, but that's OK. There is no story in Proust (or it's so flimsy it's insignificant), so I don't really see it as fiction.

On the non fiction front, finished Deadly Choices which I would recommend rather than The Panic Virus as a source for data in defense of science and vaccines. Now reading Le paradigme de l'art contemporain. I have been reading about contemporary art for several years as well as seeing exhibitions of it, but this book is the first that actually helps me make sense of it!

Finished Le paradigme de l'art contemporain and posted a short review, in French. It doesn't look like the book is available in any other language, which is a shame. This book changed the way I will be looking at exhibitions and reading texts on contemporary art in the future.

The book posits that contemporary art is a new "paradigm" in the art world, meaning that it is based on assumptions and values that make it incompatible with modern and classical art. Because of these incompatible standards, a work of contemporary art always stands at risk of being denied the status of art in the modern art world. One Amazon reader challenged the use of the term paradigm in this context. I can't venture an opinion on that, but I would say the author make a very good argument for the incompatibility of contemporary and modern art as sets of values by which to judge a work of art.

In recent history there have been three paradigms (if we accept the author's use of this work, see above) for visual arts. They can be characterized by different ways to consider works of art, and to judge their value.

- In academic art, the work (a painting or a sculpture) is considered an expression of the artist's sensibility, and judged by how beautiful (according to academic standards) it is. The artist is formed by a master, in a school, where he learns to imitate nature while achieving harmony and beauty in his works.

- In modern art, the artwork is still considered as an expression of the artist's sensibility and interiority, but it is judged mostly by how original it is. The work is still either a painting or a sculpture.

- In contemporary art, the work is no longer an expression of the artist's sensibility but a production. It is conceived by the artist, but not necessarily built by him. Like in modern art, it is judged by its originality rather than its beauty. And it can be pretty much anything but a painting or a sculpture.

The book goes on to detail the impacts of this radical change in the definition of art on the art world and on its actors: artists, galleries, museums, collectors. Especially noteworthy, and at times funny, is how they (especially museums) try to cope with artworks that have none of the prerequisite characteristics on which the art market and the world of museum curators is (still) built on. In the classical and modern definitions, an artwork is something unique (or one of a numbered limited edition) and stable (it is durable and doesn't evolve over time, or at least it is built of materials that do not deteriorate too much and that we know how to repair, because the number of materials is relatively small and they were chosen initially for their durability). It is usually small enough to transport and display in a private home, although there are also gigantic paintings and monumental sculptures destined for public art.

A work of art, in this traditional definition, is also the result of a direct intervention of the artist, sometimes with the help of his workshop, but the physical production of the artwork cannot occur without the artist.

None of this is true of contemporary artworks. They don't need to be physically produced by the artist, in fact the constraints of their construction often require that this work be delegated to technicians or manufacturers. And they are often so difficult to transport that it is more practical to just recreate them elsewhere. Some artists already take this into account, and the work itself consists of nothing more than a set of instructions, to be executed by the owner of the work or the beneficiary of a loan.

Contemporary artworks are also made up of anything but the old trusted and known materials used by classical and modern art: canvas, oil paint, bronze... Their materials are often everyday materials, and sometimes even perishable ones such as foodstuff. A nightmare for the curator.

The book is written in a dry and dispassionate way, and yet it is never boring. And it finally makes clear, through this rigorous analysis and passionless descriptions, what contemporary art is and why it can be so frustrating to outsiders.

One thing worth noting in what sets contemporary art apart, is that the work cannot be understood without, or in some cases even separated from, a narrative. The narrative not only helps understand the work, in some cases it is almost indistinguishable from the work, or at least the work couldn't exist without it. Think about Duchamp's urinal.

My personal take on this is that modern, and even to a degree academic art, have been taken over by the masses. In our society of leisure, where the definition of a work of art no longer puts emphasis on a long apprenticeship with a master, anyone can produce decent or even great paintings, sculptures or photographs. You only need a quick look at Flickr or Instagram to see that millions of people are now doing just that. It has become very difficult, in this context, to justify singling out a few artists as geniuses whose works are worth enough to interest collectors, galleries and museums. You need something more, something different, something ordinary people like you and me will never be able to produce, something that requires being introduced to a select crowd and trained to a special culture to appreciate. You need something like a shark in a tank, or a bridge wrapped up in canvas, or... a urinal?

Some additional references on the subject of art:

An Odd Bird, or how an American judge ruled on what art is.

The $12 Million Stuffed Shark, a description of the contemporary art market and who makes it.

Art by Yasmina Reza, a great play about much more than art. I just finished watching it.

Currently reading Le côté de Guermantes. Got off to a great start but now, I am finding with some dismay that the narrator is falling in love with the Duchess. So far the parts about love are the ones I enjoyed less in Proust.

Other than that, I'm not reading anything, which is rare these days (me reading only one book). I'd like to start at least one non-fiction book but I have to many to choose from, and even more on my wishlist.

>71 FlorenceArt: Fascinating about contemporary art. I saw/participated in an "exhibit" at the Guggenheim in New York that consisted entirely of volunteers of different ages walking up the ramp with visitors and asking them questions (http://www.guggenheim.org/new-york/exhibitions/past/exhibit/3305). I have to confess it didn't do anything for me.

>73 FlorenceArt: So far the parts about love are the ones I enjoyed less in Proust. I felt that way too, and that's why I could barely get through some of the later volumes. But isn't The Guermantes Way the one with all the fabulous parties where Proust is so cutting about the foibles of the guests?

>74 rebeccanyc: Well, I hope so, because that scene at the opera with the princess and her guests swimming majestically in her bathtub was hilarious. Proust is so much better when he's making fun of people than when he's examining his own navel.

Le paradigme de l'art contemporain sounds fascinating. Unfortunately, my French reading skills are set at Simenon level, so I'll have to hope for a translation. I went to an exhibit last weekend (Matthew Barney: Rivers of Fundament) that was cutting-edge art and while I usually enjoy newer art, this was an awful lot of work to understand the meaning behind the globs of various substances.

I would say that contemporary art is harder to understand than older, more "pictorial" works and, as such, is less accessible to the public.

>76 RidgewayGirl: It is, and that's a feature, not a bug. The very definition of a work of art in contemporary art means that it could be anything, materially speaking. What makes Duchamp's Fountain a work of art, as opposed to an ordinary and every day urinal, is the narrative that Duchamp built around it. There is no way to appreciate this work, to even see it as art, if you don't know the story behind it. And the way the art world judges the value of the work is by judging the value of the narrative, mostly.

There is a very funny passage in the book describing a hapless and uninitiated visitor walking into a museum and trying to make sense of what they see, first by looking at the work (no luck), then by trying to locate the explanatory panel (which panel relates to which work, and by the way how do they know what in the room is a work of art as opposed to, say, a fire extinguisher?). Funny because this is something that happened to me more than once, although at the time I did not necessarily find it funny myself.

>

I am sure a French author would have a lot more theoretical baggage to drop on the topic of modern art. I just reviewed The painted word, which is a highly satirical attack, aimed at debunking the myth of modern art.

Personally, I like at least some modern art as an experiment in "looking". However, for me the essential criterion is very simple: "would you like to have it on your wall at home?"

I agree that modern art has become a reaction to skill, and the aversion to skill is so strong that modern art, especially in the 1970s etc became more of a disply of "raw materials", free from any artistic influence or even arrangement. And yes, anyone can do that.

I would probably still be interested to read Le paradigme de l'art contemporain.

>78 edwinbcn: I'd agree that a role of the decorative arts is to produce something that will look nice and not clash with the sofa, but a larger vision of art is to unsettle, to make uncomfortable and to make the observer think about things in a new way or from a different angle. Most of that isn't intended to match the drapes.

Contemporary art does sometimes look like something anyone could copy easily -- the reason why you or I or my eleven year old son hasn't is that the thing you are looking at is full of more complex meaning; sometimes that meaning needs a very long explanation and still leaves me trying to untangle it, but generally that urinal isn't just a mass produced urinal (to use the most famous example).

Consider Chinese brush painting--some of the works look like nice doodles, but that ignores how deceptively difficult the art actually is and the centuries of history that make that simple painting of bamboo leaves much more than just a quick dash of ink on paper.

>78 edwinbcn: There is no shortage of books that will start from an implicit definition of what art is and make fun of art that isn't. If you see what I mean :-P

Heinrich's stance is completely different. She is a sociologist and tries to understand what contemporary art is from the point of view of those who make it. This, to me, is the only meaningful way to look at it, just as it doesn't make much sense, to out post-modern minds anyway, to judge cannibalistic rites from the point of view of our moral and social values, but it's much more interesting to try to look at it (as much as we can) from the point of view of a "cannibal" and to see how it all makes perfect sense to him. This doesn't mean that you will want to eat your grandmother when she dies to inherit her wisdom, but that you can try to understand how someone can do this and not necessarily be a monster.

The thing about art is, well, it's not about eating your dead or anything. It's just art, after all. I find it a bit puzzling that people can get so angry about art. Not that I haven't myself felt angry at times, when I got the impression that I was made a fool of. I like art that makes me laugh and doesn't take itself too seriously, but I don't like to feel that I am the one being laughed at. Though I suppose the difference between the two is often to be found in my mood at the time, rather than in the art itself.

> a larger vision of art is to unsettle

This notion seems commonplace, but I wonder where that notion comes from, and when it was first introduced into the discourse on the function of art. I would surmise that it originates somewhere in the 1950s or 60s, perhaps even later.

My comment was not about "mere decoration", which implies that there is a type of value system behind the evaluation of one type of art and the other, the implication usually being that so-called "unsettling art" is "a higher form of art" than decorative stuff that does not clash with the sofa.

What's wrong with pure beauty?

>81 edwinbcn:

I just read (in yet another book on art, Le marché de l'art) that consensus places the beginning of contemporary art around 1960-1970. But the deprecation of beauty as a criteria to appreciate art started with modern art, which would be the beginning of the 20th century I think.

As I said earlier, the value scale is based on originality and transgression, not on the "unsettling" factor per se. This is something that annoys and worries me, and not only in art. Transgression in itself should not be considered a virtue. Although it is less of a problem in art than in other things, as transgression in art is usually harmless.

However, this emphasis on transgression forces everyone to set the limits further and further, with sometimes ridiculous, and sometimes really unsettling consequences. As when some artist (I can't find any reference online but I remember reading about it when it happened a few years ago) proposed to have someone with a terminal illness die in a museum, under the public's eyes, as a kind of performance. This was abandoned due to public outcry, thankfully.

Finally found the name of the artist after much fumbling with keywords: Gregor Schneider.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gregor_Schneider#Controversy

Edwin, I think I must have phrased things wrong. I didn't say "mere" decoration -- of course one function of art can be beauty, but it's a mistake to dismiss things that aren't or that are non-representational as unskilled and that was what I was responding to in your comments -- that modern art is unskilled and that anyone can do it. Which simply isn't the case. Picasso's Cubist works look deceptively simple, like they are nothing more than the doodles of a child, but there is an enormous amount of both technical skill and a knowledge of art history behind those doodles. You may not want Guernica in your house, or anything by Damon Hirst for that matter, but that doesn't make it less important than Degas's dancers or Utagawa Kuniyoshi's sharks.

>84 RidgewayGirl: Well, actually, skill is not a prerequisite to do either modern or contemporary art. It might even be a hindrance, and in the contemporary art world it certainly won't get you anywhere.

This argument, which I've heard before and used to think was true, is in fact trying to justify the art of a new paradigm by forcing it to fit into the old paradigm. But it doesn't work. In this I completely agree with Heinich when she states that the three paradigms are incompatible. I probably wouldn't have said that before reading her book but she has made this clear for me. At some point you have to admit that if, to you, skill is a necessary part of art, then you can't grant the status of artwork to a painting that is made by splattering paint over a canvas. Or by putting a urinal upside down.

Reading this book has made me understand how deeply rooted in the modern paradigm my own conception of art is. I can appreciate classic or contemporary art, but I tend to do it on criteria that belong to modern art, and that means that at some point I become unable to appreciate some contemporary works, because there is nothing in them that my modern taste can identify with art. Of course, my reaction in this case tends to be an angry "That's not art!", but I have to admit that it's "not art" in my personal definition of art. And just as I can understand that some people hate my paintings because "a four year old could do the same", I also have to admit that to some people, things that to me are just pretentious crap can be art.

I complained in >73 FlorenceArt: that I was only reading one book, but now I am back to reading too many at the same time. Right now:

Le côté de Guermantes continues to enchant me, although I'm still trying to remember if I started reading it before when I got confused about the book order. I probably did, but it doesn't matter so much since I'm enjoying it.

Le marché de l'art is not as compelling as Le paradigme de l'art contemporain but I am still learning interesting things.

It's Complicated is a book by Danah Boyd whose analyses on the use of social media I find very interesting, but it's on the back burner right now.

And I finally took up Job again, so that I can start Psalms and keep up with Dan's thread. I have given up on Alter's translation and started again from the beginning, but I can't decide on a translation and keep switching between the NSRV and two different versions (1910 and 1979) of the Segond French translation. It's not as confusing as it seems since the Olive Tree iPad app makes this easy, but I should still settle on one. Reading with the notes from the Harper Collins Study Bible.

I'm also thinking of starting a lighter fiction work. Maybe another Heyer. I love Heyer's dialogs, they remind me of those 1950's movies with Cary Grant or Katharine Hepburn.

Enjoyed your comments about art. I have had similar arguments with myself over some of the same issues!

Today I took the afternoon off, the sun having made an unexpected appearance and things being very slow and boring at work. I went to the Palais de Tokyo. This museum embodies everything I find in turns infuriating and fascinating in contemporary art. It didn't disappoint today.

The Palais de Tokyo is a rather strange museum. Only part of the ground floor is available for exhibitions, the rest of the floor being taken up by a restaurant where I never see anybody, and a bookshop. The upper floor has been under renovation for as long as I can remember and is off limits, except for private parties, presumably given by and for the elite of the art world. The basement has apparently been left empty since the Cinémathèque Française moved years ago to a beautiful building in the then newly renovated neighborhood of Bercy.

On the ground floor there were a couple of large video installation that I found rather loud and pretentious. One of them started in an antechamber with two openings. You were supposed to start the visit from the right, but you couldn't know that until you tried the left entrance and were very politely set to right by the guard sitting there. Of course they could have put an arrow or some kind of indication of the correct direction, but it's so much more fun to submit visitors to the humiliation of finding out they are trespassing.

Then there was the large fake meteorite hanging from the ceiling in the main hall. That didn't really raise any kind of reaction in me, until I made the mistake of reading the explanatory panel, which explained in detail why I should be in awe of said fake meteorite.

By the time I started going downstairs to the basement, which has only been open for a few months (see above), and happened on the large street art style wall painting that said "Just say no to family values", I was almost ready to storm out of the building. Again.

That, however, would have been a mistake. Because the basement was an enchantment. Mostly, to be honest, because of the building itself which still shows a few traces of its former use as a cinema, and has mostly been left abandoned with all the decoration removed, leaving the infrastructure and various pipes and cables visible. In some places the floor was even wet, I don't know if that's "natural" or intentional. I stayed for some time looking at an electric switch that was labeled "cage de Faraday" and wondering why you would need that in a cinema or a museum.

But the artwork is perfectly matched to that setting, to the point that sometimes it's hard to tell the exhibits from the building. Everything is just as derelict, mysterious and crazy as that old abandoned film institute and movie theater. I spent a wonderful half hour getting lost in it. The exhibition on the group floor is closing soon, but I think at least some of the exhibits downstairs will remain for some time. I will return there, if only to see the place again.

Books? Oh, right. Books. Reading another Georgette Heyer, False Colours. The dialogs are not as witty in this one as in others. I'm almost at the end. And I'm thinking of starting a biography of the prophet Muhammad. I found a French one that seems unbiased enough, but I'm open to suggestions.

An article that should resonate especially for those who read We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

What Do Talking Apes Really Tell Us?

The Jeff Koons retrospective that is on show in New York now will come to Paris in November.

New York Review of Books: The Koons Cult

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2014/sep/25/cult-jeff-koons/

«Imagine the Jeff Koons retrospective at the Whitney Museum of American Art as the perfect storm. And at the center of the perfect storm there is a perfect vacuum.»

The New York Times review

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/27/arts/design/jeff-koons-a-retrospective-opens-a...

«Despite some ups and downs, this is a gripping show. It chronicles a sculptural career that is singular for its profusion of color, crafts and materials; its opening up of historical avenues closed by Minimalism; and its faith in both accessibility and advanced art, that other New.»

After all this, I guess I have no choice but to see it for myself. Not sure I will manage to brave the crowds to do it though.

Michael Jackson and Bubbles

. . . My favorite Jeff Koons, which was on display at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art many years ago.

Finished two more Heyer this week, False Colours and Venetia. In the last one, the ordinary male chauvinism evident in all her books was more disturbing than usual. A woman must resign herself to her husband being unfaithful. He can't help it, you known, being a man. Whereas it goes without saying that she will remain faithful. And personally, if a man started by forcefully kissing me on our first encounter, I think I would NOT think him interesting and mysterious. In fact I would be positively traumatized, not to mention angry and scared, and feel extremely reluctant to ever meet him again.

The problem with reading romance books is that they are addictive. I hate finishing one book and have a compulsion to start another one immediately. So to put an end to the vicious circle, I started le voleur de Maigret, which is very envoyable so far.

Also, influenced by Poquette I borrowed books I-IV of Herodotus and started to read it. It's surprisingly easy reading, and fun too. The translation is very readable and the book has a reasonable amount of maps and notes, a timeline and even an index of people and places. Unfortunately it has a big drawback: it's a paper book. Worse, it's an old paperback with that musty smell I don't particularly miss, let me tell you. I hate having to go back and forth between the text and the notes, and every time I do that there's that smell again. I'm wondering if I like the book enough to order the expensive Pleiades edition, which is the basis for this one. At least I could have all the books (plus Thucydides) in one volume, and without the smell, hopefully. I wish it was available as an e-book.

Glad to hear you are enjoying Herodotus. Actually, I sometimes wish my edition had been broken into two volumes. It weighs over three pounds and I am getting a bruise on my thigh where the edge of the book digs in. Something to consider when considering a volume with too much in it! ;-)

Oh, I don't think there is a risk of that. La Pleiade books are relatively thin because they are printed on "bible paper". Each volume is about as thick as an average paperback book and probably a bit heavier. The whole collection of In Search of Lost Time is four volumes. Unless they have changed a lot (possible, I'll admit), I should be able to carry it in my handbag without even noticing it.

>93 Poquette: Suzanne, My daughter bought me a book pillow for reading big books. It is great.

>95 NanaCC: Good idea, Colleen! I did try a pillow, but together they were too bulky. But I'll try again.

I had a moment of frustration yesterday while reading Proust on the train, as there were two references I didn't get, so I had to wait until I got home to look them up on the Web. Of course I'm being picky, since it's still marvelous I was able to look them up and the frustration was very short lived. I still have access to an amazing amount of information on my iPad, even when it's not connected, and when it is it's almost infinite. It reminds me of the wonderful passage I read in Proust a few days ago about how people so quickly became jaded about the wonders of telephone and became impatient when the "demoiselles du téléphone" couldn't establish a link immediately.

Anyway, my frustration was that it is almost impossible to find a good edition of classics, at least in French. There are gazillions of free or cheap editions of In Search of Lost Time, and I finally found one that is decent (not too many errors and a readable layout), but it has absolutely no note at all, so if I come across a reference that is not immediately understandable, all I can do is look it up on the Web. Not to mention the numerous times I thought "Wait, is that really what he wrote, or is there an OCR error in my e-book?".

I'm still annoyed at that, really. The quality of e-books has gone up, but it's still not at the level you can find with paper book. There is no e-Pleiades edition of Proust, or Herodotus.

97 -
I have this one-tome behemoth which I like 'cause it's floppy so easy to keep open. But you definitely can't carry it around with you and it makes reading Proust more intimidating as it just sits there as one massive volume.

>98 lilisin: I like the idea of having everything in one volume, and it's the same text as la Pléiade too... but only the text without any note. Tempting though. It would only serve as a psychological comfort, since I'm pretty sure I would keep reading the e-book version, flawed as it is, and rarely make the effort to check the paper version in case of doubt. That's what happened with Ulysses anyway.

Proust has a rather depressing view of love, I must say. And I have definitely read this before. But since I have no idea where I stopped the first time, and I don't remember much of it, I guess I'll just keep reading until I get to new stuff. I might skip a few pages of the cringe-inducing scenes between Saint-Loup and his mistress though.

I am almost envious of your reading Proust. I have been saving it for something — retirement? when I can read it in French? I am not sure. But I do hope to get to him one of these days.

I've been reading a lot of web articles lately. Among other things, I subscribed to the feed from the New York Review of Books, and though I don't read all of them, I always feel richer after reading one of their articles.

Here's one I read recently, and I or someone else may have mentioned it here already, I'm not sure. It's one of those articles that seem to express almost exactly what I feel, only better.
Reading Upward

"What no one wants to accept—and no doubt there is an element of class prejudice at work here too—is that there are many ways to live a full, responsible, and even wise life that do not pass through reading literary fiction. And that consequently those of us who do pursue this habit, who feel that it enriches and illuminates us, are not in possession of an essential tool for self-realization or the key to protecting civilization from decadence and collapse. We are just a bunch of folks who for reasons of history and social conditioning have been blessed with a wonderful pursuit. Others may or may not be enticed toward it, but I seriously doubt if E.L. James is the first step toward Shakespeare. Better to start with Romeo and Juliet."

This week I read this article about pirates, and as a result I am now reading Captain Blood. It's an enjoyable read except for the queasy feeling every time he mentions "negroes". Not because of the word used. Because although slavery is described as degrading and dehumanizing, this is only in reference to the white men. Negroes, who presumably work alongside them and are submitted to even worse treatment, are already beasts, so that's quite OK. In fact, one of the problems of white slaves is that through their dehumanizing treatment, they may sink to the level of the black slaves.

"He was in danger of becoming no better than an animal, of sinking to the level of the negroes who sometimes toiled beside him."

That's a bit hard to swallow.

These articles seem much more interesting than what I've been reading in the actual printed copy of The New York Review of Books. Although, to be fair, I'm way way way behind on those. Maybe I should switch to reading articles on the web as you do!

>103 rebeccanyc: If you subscribe to the paper magazine, I'm sure you can access more articles than I do, and it might be easier online to pick the ones you'd like to read. You might end up reading more than you did. That worked for me with Le Monde. When I subscribed to the paper edition (actually it was the only one available then), the newspapers heaped up and I ended up not even opening most of them. I stopped subscribing for a long time, and then took an online subscription. Now I read on average one or two articles every day I think. That's not much but it's more than I used to.

>104 FlorenceArt: I subscribe to way too many magazines, all of which pile up, alas. But you make a good point. I'm just not used to reading a lot of articles on my computer; you can't curl up in bed, or on the sofa, with them!

>105 rebeccanyc: That's true. I read them on my iPad, but I wouldn't read so much on a computer.

I just discovered that I can read magazine articles via internet connection with my library. They have a Zenio connection which I have not been able to make work yet, but you can read individual articles from many different magazines through their research services. You just have to know what you're looking for. I have just killed three hours exploring. I could have been reading Herodotus!!!

Finished book VI of A la recherche du temps perdu. It's annoying that the only decent e-book edition I've found is split arbitrarily following an old paper edition, and I found myself stopped in the middle of Du côté de Germantes. But I downloaded the new tome and will be able to continue reading as soon as I finish Captain Blood. I was interrupted this morning as I had to leave the train and go to work, but I know how I'll be spending my evening today.

What is Public?

"Someone could make off with all your garbage that’s put out on the street, and carefully record how many used condoms or pregnancy tests or discarded pill bottles are in the trash, and then post that information up on the web along with your name and your address. There’s probably no law against it in your area. Trash on the curb is public."

What I'm reading now:

- Pascin by Johann Sfar. It took me a while to pick this up at the library, as I felt I wouldn't like it. It certainly don't like Pascin (whose name I found out is pronounced paskin). He reminds me a little of Serge Gainsbourg, who was a genius and a very disagreeable man. He also looks like him, especially in Sfar's drawings. I finished volume 3 and will probably read the rest, but slowly.
- Un peu de bois et d'acier, a wordless comic book about the life of a park bench. Nice drawings and lots of barely suggested stories. I like it.
- An Orchard Invisible, a delicious book about seeds, and pretty much any loosely related topic that occurs to the author as he rambles on. Well, not exactly, it's actually a pretty structured and very informative book, and a very agreeable read. But I'm getting impatient because I'd like to read The Affair: The Case of Alfred Dreyfus next, which I believe is considered the most authoritative book on the Dreyfus affair. And the reason for this is
- Le côté de Guermantes, where most of the book seems to be occupied by the description of a social gathering and where the affair is mentioned very often.
- The Portrait of a Lady, which I am enjoying but only a few pages at a time, so it will take some time to finish.

All this interspersed with lots of Georgette Heyer.

In a desperate attempt to escape Georgette Heyer as my only provider of escapist litterature, I happened on The Princess Bride which I have meant to read for a long time, but couldn't find in ebook at the time. Now I did, and started reading it. What a pleasure! I would prefer not to have images and sounds (especially the nasal voice of the Sicilian) from the movie intruding on my reading, but that's not so bad, I loved the movie. And I love the book so far, even (especially?) the remarks of the "abridger".

>111 FlorenceArt:. I read The Princess Bride last year, and I remember it making me smile. (Almost as much as the movie does).

Patrick Modiano just won the Nobel prize for literature. He is one of my mother's favorite authors. I read a few books from him and liked them, though they all felt like they were telling the same story. According to my mother he even admitted it in an interview. To be writing the same story over and over I mean. But it's a beautiful if melancholy story, and he tells it beautifully.

Also, Le Monde tells me that France is the country that has had the most Nobel prizes (for literature): 15, including Modiano. Looking at the list, some of them are hardly remembered now.

As far as languages are concerned, English is the clear leader: 28 winners. French only has 16. One of the 15 French writers was writing in Provençal, Swiss got two and Belgium 1, so I guess that accounts for that number. No, wait, that's 17! One of the Swiss or the Belgian must have been writing in another language.

Why am I telling you all this? I should be calling my mother.

I too enjoyed the movie of The Princess Bride, but I did not know there was a book.

I am glad you did not call your mother and instead shared with us your comments about Nobel Prizewinners. I had not realized that France had won such a high proportion. Now I am going to go look it up . . . ;-)

Finished The Princess Bride. Enjoyable as there is more, of course, to the book than the movie. But frustrating because, uncharacteristically, I seem to remember most of the movie vividly. So the (more recently added I think) bit at the end was welcome: the first chapter of the sequel. I don't know if it's meant as a teaser for a real sequel or just for its own sake. Works for me both ways, and made me appreciate the "abridger" and his struggle with creation, the entertainment industry, and life in general, better. Everyone has grown older in this addendum: the imaginary author, the imaginary abridger, and the real author.

And now, I'm about to watch a documentary on women during WWI.

There is an exhibition on Sade at the musée d'Orsay. I read an interview with the curator in le Monde (in French and may be behind a paywall), and her interpretation of Sade is opposite to mine. I'm reluctant to take her opinion at face value however, no matter how much of an expert she seems to be. The French intellectuals have such a reverence for transgression that it sometimes seem they will admire anything, provided it's provocative enough.

I would like to read one of her books on Sade though, but I can't find them in ebook form. I'd look for a paper version but I would probably end up not reading it.

In the meantime, I downloaded La philosophie dans le boudoir, which is what you should start with, according to Jean-Jacques Pauvert, who revived Sade's reputation after WWII (and got into a lot of legal problems) by re-publishing his works.

An exhibit on Sade at the Musée d'Orsay is counterintuitive to say the least. To me, anyway. Are you going to see the exhibit?

>117 Poquette: Good question. Probably not. I'd like to see the catalog though. But I don't especially like the Musée d'Orsay, and going there to see paintings of women being abused does not appeal very strongly.

I finished An Orchard Invisible last night. I had this book because it was offered for free at some point but was not particularly interested by the subject of seeds. But this was an enjoyable read. Silvertown has a very agreeable style of writing and manages to convey a lot of information in a light and fun way. The last chapter is about seeds in gastronomy and has some highly lyrical pages about coffee.

Next non-fiction read: The Affair.

>116 FlorenceArt: Some years ago I read At Home with the Marquis de Sade by Francine du Plessix Gray, a writer whose other work I had admired, but I was a little underwhelmed.

I went to the library today to return Pascin 3 and Un peu de bois et d'acier. Following dchaikin's review I wanted to get Asterios Polyp, but it was not available so I took another Mazzucchelli, Big Man. And most importantly, I found a book on Sade by Annie Le Brun, who is the curator of the exhibition at Orsay: Soudain un bloc d'abîme, Sade.

The first thing I can say about Annie Le Brun is that she is not an opportunist or a snob, only interested in Sade because it's cool to be subversive. She is really passionate about her subject. So passionate and knowledgeable in fact, that I have some difficulties understanding what she is talking about. Her writing is very lyrical and enjoyable, but somewhat obscure.

She writes a lot about Sade's other commentators and critics (mostly to berate them), and one thing they seem to agree on: whatever philosophical theories Sade's characters express is probably not is own. That's a relief, if it's true. When reading Justine, I kept hoping that, but after a time, when the only two world views expressed were those of Justine on one side and of her various tormentors on the other, I came to the conclusion that they (the murderous and raping crowd) expressed Sade's view. Apparently I may have been wrong. I sure hope so.

I read the first chapter (first dialog) of Les 120 journées de Sodome, and so far, thankfully, it's only about sex. I hope it will be less taxing a read than Justine, but I guess that's the whole point about Sade. According to Le Brun, you can't read him and emerge unscathed. Well, we'll see.

>120 FlorenceArt: According to Le Brun, you can't read him and emerge unscathed.

Looking forward to your comments about that!

Abandoned recently:

The Portrait of a Lady
I feel rather guilty and stupid about that, but I have to admit that James' writing is not for me. I suspect that were I to read the equivalent in my native language, I would appreciate it more. Maybe I should try it in translation? As it is, it feels too distant and sophisticated, and together with the crawling pace of the narration, the effect is rather soporific. My reading also slowed to a crawl and halted.

The Dirty Streets of Heaven
I bought it because of the titles of the books in the series, and because I have liked Tad Williams' books I read before. I was a bit wary of the subject matter, because frankly I am getting fed up of all those stories about supernatural and immortal beings. I think it's high time we grew up and faced the facts. Nobody is watching over us, and we are all going to die in the end. But, well, as I said I liked Tad Williams' other books, and the title sounded like he might be going to have a bit of fun with those old clichés. Well, he doesn't. Or maybe it's all tongue in cheek, but in this case it's just too subtle for me. As the narrator puts it, the picture of afterlife is "pretty much exactly what most people expected", if most people means North Americans at least. There is some mild humor in the description of heaven's bureaucracy, but it's not enough to sustain my interest. The writing is not great, but in his other books I read the story made up for it. Not in this one.

Finished recently:

Dans les bois éternels (This Night's Foul Work) by Fred Vargas
Not her best work. In fact it narrowly avoided being in the previous list. I did finish it but did not enjoy the ending, which reveals a completely unbelievable culprit. Vargas always takes liberties with psychological realism and many traits of her characters are rather unlikely, but this time she went too far.

Black Sheep by Georgette Heyer
What can I say, another one. And a rather good one too, fun y and moving. I'm afraid I already read the best ones, but I can't help it, I have to read more.

Asterios Polyp by Dave Mazzuchelli (mentioned by dchaikin)
Hard to review this one. The story is too conventional, the commentary too pretentious, and the ending is downright cheesy. And yet I ended up feeling for the unlikable main character. The drawings are good and work well with the story. I did read this one, slowly but I never considered abandoning it.

Yuck. Am I being too negative here? I've been feeling rather grumpy lately, for no good reason.

Catching up quite a bit. (I'm behind on lot of favorite threads, but didn't realize i was so behind on yours). Glad you enjoyed the book version of The Princess Bride, which i thought was great fun. Interesting about Annie Le Brun's take on Sade, and about your struggles with Henry James. I haven't read him, but apparently his early stuff makes much easier reading. And i'm impressed with your Proust progress. I read the first two books back in 2010, but then stopped.

Finally, your response to Asterios Polyp was about the same as mind. Conventional simple story, but still likable.

>122 FlorenceArt: Having just complained at some length about my own complete failure to get along with Henry James' writing in The Turn of the Screw, I'm feeling reassured to see you saying basically the same thing. (I am a native English speaker. James' writing made me feel like I'm not.)

>124 dchaikin: Sade is on the back burner for now, but I'll get back to him after I finish The Affair (which I meant to post about but laziness got in the way). I plan to read Les 120 journées de Sodome, then probably Le Brun's book. And I found another one to add on my wishlist yesterday at the library. It's called "Pourquoi le XXe siècle a-t-il pris Sade au sérieux ?" (Why did the 20th century take Sade seriously?) Which is a very good question.

>125 bragan: I read your review of The Turn of the Screw and your description of James' writing reminded me a little of Proust. But the writing in Portrait of a Lady (which was written 17 years earlier) is perfectly understandable, if a little precious. My problem is that it's so cold and analytical. Plus, nothing much is happening. That doesn't necessarily bother me, but when I don't like the writing, and there is no story to speak of, it's a little hard to keep up my interest.

>126 FlorenceArt: Huh. Maybe James developed over time from one annoying writing style to another!

Another abandoned book:

Felisberto Hernandez - Complete Works (French translation)

I was curious when Poquette mentioned this author I had never heard of before. I think she mentioned that his writings had some relations to dreams. So I borrowed this book from the library to sample it. I didn't mean to read all of it, at least in one go. As it turns out, I read two stories and abandoned the third one about 3/4 through. I did not enjoy reading them. To me they are related, not to dreams, but to madness. Not romantic madness, but real madness, ugly and oppressive, and possessed of an implacable and destructive inner logic.

OK, I'm probably exaggerating this, it wasn't that painful an experience, but it made me very uneasy. Still, it was interesting to learn about this author. I have read very few books from South American authors, which is a shame. I don't regret giving this author a try, but I won't come back to him.

Not sure what to start now, as I just finished another Heyer, which I think will be the last one for a while at least. Maybe The Portrait, which I picked up again after I posted about it on Poquette's thread. There is also that Modiano novel I bought recently, Rue des boutiques obscures. I like the title, and it's familiar (the title), because this is one of his most well-known books and I must have seen it a hundred times in bookshops or on websites.

Sorry you didn't like Felisberto Hernandez. I don't recall mentioning his work in connection with dreams, but no matter. His writing is quirky enough that he probably has limited appeal. I apologize if I misled you.

I think you mentioned him in connection to another writer who in turn was connected to your dream-related reading? Or maybe I just saw those subjects mentioned in your posts and drew a connection that wasn't there.

Anyway, there's absolutely nothing to be sorry for, and you didn't mislead me, you just mentioned this very unusual author and I got curious. Curiosity can sometimes lead to disappointment, but the process itself is exciting: reading about a new book, trying to decide if I will like it, looking for it online or at the library. Sometimes it's a great book, sometimes it's boring or even bad, and sometimes, like this one, it just makes me uneasy for reasons I don't really understand. That may be a sign it's a great book, who knows. Just not for me. Anyway, this whole process is why I love librarything :-)

It would be interesting to compare the French translation of Henry James to its original. Unfortunately, my French is not up for anything more challenging than a Simenon novel! James is mannered and formal in his writing and I wonder if that is exacerbated by putting it into the classic French style, which is also mannered and formal if I remember correctly.

>131 RidgewayGirl: I guess it would depend on the date of the translation. Contemporary translations must be in the public domain and available. You made me curious, I may have a look later.

Poquette reminded me that I had The Portrait in my to-read list. I started it a few weeks ago but didn't like the premise (two bitter old "friends" meeting again, as told by the monologue addressed by one to the other). But this time I went further than a few pages, and I'm in now. Interrupting my reading every time a painter or painting is mentioned to look it up on Wikipedia. The book is about art and the art world, which concerns me directly.

Yesterday I finished The Portrait. A very disappointing Iain Pears for me. Probably in part because the subject of art, and to a lesser extent the art world, is one that is important to me, but I never managed to identify with any of its aspects in the book.

It's hard to say more without spoilers, so you should probably not read the rest of this post if you intend to read the book.

I hated the narrator from the beginning, as was probably intended, and even though I came to understand him better, the ending fully justified my dislike. And talking about the ending, it just doesn't work. But I really can't say more about it.

Whew. I finally managed to finish The Affair: the Case of Alfred Dreyfus, a very dry, detailed and balanced account of the Dreyfus affair. It was not an easy read because I found it difficult to keep track of all the people, and it didn't help that the e-book had the worst formatting ever. The manifestations of hatred and antisemitism were sometimes hard to stomach.

But the author managed a good description of the affair and how it connected with and influenced the politics of a difficult time, how it managed to concentrate and express the conflicts of a a very conflicted period, a time of political and economic changes. I'm glad I read it, and even more glad I finished it.

>135 FlorenceArt: That is a good one to finish out the year. It sounds interesting.

>135 FlorenceArt: I would like to read about the details of the Dreyfus case. This might be the book to read

>137 baswood: I was told it's considered "the" definitive work on the subject. But unless you were educated in France, you will need a lot of footnotes to follow it I think, or at least a list of the cast of characters, which the edition I read does not contain. I recognized at least vaguely most of the names, but I did spend some time with Wikipedia while reading it.

So, on this last day of the year, I am still reading Proust (Le côté de Guermantes) and the Bible (rather stuck on Psalms at the moment). I also started a small book I happened on by chance: Lettres édifiantes et curieuses des Jésuites de Chine. Interesting, mostly thanks to the introduction and short note before each letter, explaining the context and the political agenda.

And now I guess I'd better start a thread for 2015.

Belatedly catching up, but I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year in 2015! Hope to see you in Club Read 2015.

On to 2015: http://www.librarything.com/topic/185675