Wednesday, October 22, 2025

Emily Herring, Herald of a Restless World ***

Herald of a Restless World is a biography of the French philosopher Henri Bergson. It attempts to explain his key ideas, make sense of his immense popular fame in the years before World War I, and account for his disappearance from our cultural memory.

Bergson's first fundamental insight was the notion of durée, the subjective experience of time. Bergson noted that physical laws treat time as something that can be cut up into measurable units, whereas we experience time as a continuous flow.

What would happen, Bergson asked, if, through some magic spell, the earth completed a rotation on its own axis every twelve hours instead of every twenty-four? What it every other natural phenomenon accelerated proportionally? To the elaborate equations the astrophysicist devises to predict celestial phenomena this major shirt in tempo would make no difference at all.

Bergson builds on the concept of durée to examine mind/body dualism and free will.

Bergson had a compelling style in both his writing and his speaking, rich with metaphor, and his lectures were open to the public. His ideas about the limits of scientific thought spoke to a populace that was feeling uneasy about the positivism of the times.

The same forces that made Bergson so popular in the early 20th century have ensured his lack of subsequent influence. He gave public lectures so he never developed the types of followers he would have as a professor. His views about the shortcomings of rationality got him labeled as anti-intellectual. His large female audience made people take him less seriously. During and after WWI, Bergson stopped lecturing and became part of the establishment, making him less attractive to the modernist movements that previously claimed him as inspiration.

I often found Herald of a Restless World to be superficial. I didn't feel like I got a good understanding of Bergson's philosophy nor a good sense of his reputedly electric speaking style. Notable events, such as Bergson's debate with Einstein and his role in getting the United States involved in WWI, are covered somewhat cursorily. We don't learn much about his lifelong health issues or his family. The author clearly conveys how popular Bergson was in his prime but can't really answer the critics who claim that most of his audience didn't understand his ideas. Nor does she provide compelling counterarguments against critics of his philosophy like Bertrand Russell or Albert Einstein.

Saturday, October 18, 2025

Ayşegül Savaş, The Anthropologists ****

My last year at university, one professor of anthropology trained our attention inward at the close of every lecture... She asked us to notice that just life—writing papers, going to parties, applying to jobs—could always be mapped out following the structures we learned about in class.

Asya and Manu are a young couple living in a foreign city, imagining possible futures for themselves as they search for an apartment to buy. They want to fit in with their "native" friends, stay connected with their families, and become a "tribe of our own." While in university, they would spend the day in town watching other people and envisioning themselves living similar lives. "We were only playing out our adulthood rather than committing to them." Do they need to accomplish something to make their lives meaningful, or are the everyday routines enough?

I found Asya's anthropological insights subtle and thought-provoking. I had to read slowly so as not to miss the point of the largely mundane events.

My experience reading The Anthropologists reminded me of my experience with two other books: Elif Batuman's The Idiot and Jenny Offill's Department of Speculation. They are all coming-of-age stories narrated by women with offbeat sensibilities. The (lack of) plot is beside the point. The Anthropologists and Department of Speculation also share an epigrammatic style.

Sunday, October 12, 2025

Paul Richardson, Myths of Geography ** 1/2

The title, cover map, and introduction make this book something of a Trojan Horse. They conspire to suggest that Richardson will discuss "imagined geographies: understandings of the world...that exist in each of our minds...[and] inform how we both perceive and live in the world." However, only one and a half of Richardson's eight myths relate to physical geography: the myth of seven continents and the myth of Russia's quest for a warm-weather port. Most of the book is about the shortcomings of nationalism and capitalism when it comes to addressing our human needs.

Richardson is a professor of "human geography," and I suppose that our system of national sovereignty counts as a myth of human geography. I agreed with most of Richardson's (liberal) views, but I didn't buy a book called Myths of Geography to hear arguments about the need for universal action to deal with climate change or replacing economic metrics with other means of measuring well-being. 

Wednesday, October 8, 2025

James McBride, The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store *** 1/2

The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store has all of the elements it needs to be the masterpiece that many reviewers claim it is. In particular, it builds a detailed community from the diverse residents of Pottstown, Pennsylvania. However, the various story threads feel disjointed, resulting in an unsatisfying resolution to the mystery it introduces in the prologue. Spoiler alert: the skeleton ended up in the well for reasons unrelated to the main events of the book.

To me, the strongest aspect of the book was its sociological portrait of a small town in the 1930s, with its immigrants, Jews, Blacks, and white town elders living side-by-side and working to balance their concerns. McBride stacks the deck against the town elders by presenting their worldviews with less subtlety and less ethical value. ("But that's how it was!," you might exclaim. Maybe so, but I would still prefer less mustache twirling.)

Many of the side characters fail to transcend their role in the plot, with Doc Roberts and "Son of Man" especially being cardboard villains. The institution to which they send the deaf boy is cartoonishly evil: I think the story would have been stronger if the authorities actually felt they were doing their best to educate the boy.

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Guy Maddin, Interviews (edited by D.K. Holm) ****

The ticket-holder's line for Sound of Falling snaked right past the store at the TIFF Lightbox. How could I not browse its impressive shelf of cinematic monographs? And how could I pass up the book about a Canadian director?

Guy Maddin has a distinctive film-making style, with comical and avant-garde narratives filmed using techniques from the silent era. He strikes me as a thoughtful and creative artist, which is why I was interested in hearing what he had to say in interviews. I was not disappointed: he makes numerous insightful comments about his work and about art in general.
So few people understand what melodrama is. It's not real life exaggerated. Really good melodrama is the truth uninhibited. ... These are not exaggerated feelings, they are repressed feelings liberated.

He is Canadian, so he also has opinions about hockey: 

I was always struck by early NHL photographs by how noir-looking they were... I guess it's because early sports photography was always done in those darkened arenas with the flashbulb and only the athletes in the immediate foreground were illuminated and everyone else seemed to disappear in thickest night, and so you got the idea that hockey was played more in a back alley, so it felt really lurid and frightening... It seemed like players could disappear into the murk and come back out with the puck in some surprising place and almost mug another player.

I feel as if I got a great sense of Maddin's artistic sensibility, of his career up through My Winnipeg in 2008, and of the persona he projects. Like his films, he is an entertaining mixture of the literate and the silly, the amateurish and the masterful.

My favorite Maddin film, by the way, is The Saddest Music in the World.

Monday, September 29, 2025

Brian Moore, Lies of Silence ****

I first read Lies of Silence back when it was published in the early 1990s, and ever since I have regularly thought about its awesome setup. The manager of a hotel in Belfast lies sleepless because he plans to tell his wife that he is leaving her. Before dawn, however, IRA terrorists break into his house and tell him he must drive his car, rigged with a bomb, onto the hotel property. They hold his wife hostage to ensure that he doesn't inform the police. He does report the bomb at the last minute. Is he a hero for doing the right thing or a heel for risking his wife's life rather than his own?

I refer to this scenario as the "setup" but it actually covers the entire first half of this short novel. The back half doesn't maintain the intensity. Both times I read the book I was disappointed that Moore focuses more on the social issues (should innocent citizens testify against terrorists?) than the personal ones (how does the wife interpret his betrayal?). To me, the most interesting character development would be the tension between his public heroism and his private sense of mercenary motives. I appreciated the later chapters more on this second read since my expectations were properly set.

Lies of Silence tells a very cinematic story, if a now somewhat dated one. When I read it I can't help but imagine how I would adapt it into a film. Needless to say, I would refocus the denouement.

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

Peter Hopkirk, The Great Game ****

The Great Game describes the 19th-century rivalry between Victorian Britain and Tsarist Russia for control of central Asia. Britain saw the region as an exposed flank of India; Russia felt a manifest destiny to control the continent. Rudyard Kipling popularized the expression "the Great Game" in his novel Kim.

It's an exciting adventurous story that takes place against a backdrop of exotic cultures and extreme landscapes. Khiva, Bokhara, Samirkind, Chitral; the Karakum and Taklamakan Deserts, the Pamir, Karakoram, and Himalaya Mountains. The story includes secret spy missions, daring escapades, treachery, extreme conditions, sieges, and battles. I enjoyed learning the history and the geography, both of which I was largely ignorant about. 

Hopkirk's writing is very matter-of-fact. He underplays the drama of many episodes. He doesn't attempt to portray the personal character of his many heroes, which makes them hard to distinguish. Which intrepid adventurer was that? Especially in the early going, many of their deeds felt similar.

I referred regularly to the included maps. They gave a good sense of the relative positions of the cities and Khanates, but I wish they had provided better topographical detail. The dramatic landscapes played a critical role in military assessments of the risk of invasion.

It seemed to me that over the century of conflict, Britain typically relied on treaties with their "buffer states" while Russia typically occupied them "temporarily." Given the capricious nature of rulers, the Russian approach resulted in more permanent gains. There was also a persistent difference in attitude between the political and military portions of both governments.