This is one book which I absolutely loved. It's a coming-of-age tale: of the author - and his country.
I had hopes of writing a detailed review; had unThis is one book which I absolutely loved. It's a coming-of-age tale: of the author - and his country.
I had hopes of writing a detailed review; had underlined so many passages, made copious notes and even made a rough outline. But then, I find that I cannot do it. Some books are like that for me - too complex and rich to be analysed.
Amos Oz narrates the tale of his dysfunctional family; his proud and egoistic father and his disturbed and sensitive mother, and himself as the shy and gifted youngster growing up amidst the turmoil. His country is also dysfunctional, with its Jewish heart and Arab body; two races (?) fated to live together permanently at war. Oz weaves these two narrative strands seamlessly, and we get a magical tale composed of equal parts of love and darkness (are they that much different?).
This book gave me much more insight into what Israel was, than the over-hyped ones like Exodus....more
"You have control over only your karma: never on its fruits. So because of [concern over] the fruits of your karma, never shirk from it."
This is most "You have control over only your karma: never on its fruits. So because of [concern over] the fruits of your karma, never shirk from it."
This is most probably the most quoted, used, misused, praised and maligned verse from the Bhagavad Gita, where Lord Krishna instructs Arjuna on the Karma-yoga. It has been praised as the epitome of virtue to do your duty regardless of the consequences: it has been severely criticised as the upper caste Hindu spiritual drug to force a person to follow his caste duties without contemplation. Both views have their merits: but what they ignore is that, spirituality aside, this is what keeps most of us sane - having very little control over where we are placed as a cog in this huge machine of the universe, the best thing is to bite the bullet and press ahead, and do the best you can.
Hemingway's old fisherman, Santiago, would not have known the Gita. But he echoes its philosophy when he says:
Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought. But that was the thing that I was born for.
Being born as a fisherman, his karma is to fish - it does not matter whether he manages to land anything. Everyday he keeps on returning to the sea, because
My big fish must be somewhere.
Yes, indeed.
-------------------------
This slim book is Hemingway's testament to the eternal struggle of man against nature, a dance of life and death, enacted by Santiago and the marlin against the backdrop of the sea and the sky. Even while intent on killing one another, the contest is one of love as well as antagonism.
“Fish," he said, "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.�
You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?
There is nothing personal in it, no pleasure or pain - just the inevitability of karma. And it does not matter whether one wins or loses, whether one has the catch to show for one's victory - for the act of fishing is what is important, for a man who was born to be a fisherman.
Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions.
Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose. Tomorrow is always another day.
If someone asks me about books which have left indelible impressions on my mind, this book would top the list. I first tried to read it as a teen, butIf someone asks me about books which have left indelible impressions on my mind, this book would top the list. I first tried to read it as a teen, but failed miserably because I could not stomach the darkness and cruelty. Later on, the more mature reader in me could understand the metaphorical dimension of the narrative and the characters.
On the surface, this is the story of the enigmatic Heathcliff, the gypsy (?) who is adopted by the Earnshaw family, living on the Scottish moors - and his unique relationship with Catherine, the daughter of the family. But underneath the Gothic murk of pain and lust, the novel examines the universal archetypes of the anima and the animus in the form of Catherine and Heathcliff. Their relationship is not love; it is not lust - it goes much, much deeper, down to the bedrock of the collective unconscious.
Emily Bronte's success is that she has managed to spin a tale bordering on dark fantasy without actually including any supernatural elements - and to keep the reader pinned to the page, even when each sentence is a torture (as it was, many a time). ...more
In a dystopian future, a gang of youngsters lead by a psycho go about pillaging, murdering and raping. The leader is caught and undergoes psychologicaIn a dystopian future, a gang of youngsters lead by a psycho go about pillaging, murdering and raping. The leader is caught and undergoes psychological conditioning so that he can't do violence any more. It effectively makes him a vegetable, taking away all the faculties that make him human.
The story is narrated in a nearly unintelligible slang called Nadsat, and is full of scenes of obscene violence.
There was a magazine called "Imprint" (now defunct) during my childhood, in India. It used to publish literary articles and stories. My father got official copies and he brought them home regularly. One issue contained this story, and he gave it to me for reading. I was maybe 10-12 at that time.
It left an indelible impression on my mind: I was sad for the little prince and his proud rose, and constantly worried whether the goat would eat it. I chuckled at the silly grownups on the various planets, following their inane pursuits. I was sad when the fox and the prince had to separate, after he had tamed it. And I broke down and cried at the end.
I read this book again after a long time... and suddenly realised that I had become one of those adults on the asteroids. I was still sad after reading it-but now the sorrow had a deeper meaning. It was the death of childhood that I was reading about.
This book is an absolute treasure.
Postscript
July 22, 2015 - I gave this book to my son a couple of days back. Hopefully he'll read it - he has yet to fully transform into a silly grown-up....more
Quite simply put, The Shining is the best horror story I have ever read. It scared the hell out of me.
Over a period of time, I have noticed certain stQuite simply put, The Shining is the best horror story I have ever read. It scared the hell out of me.
Over a period of time, I have noticed certain standard "motifs" in horror stories. One of these I call "The Lost Child". Such stories will typically involve a child, who can see what the silly grownups cannot see (or, even if they do see, don't acknowledge because it goes against reason and logic): and who fights, however high the odds stacked against him/ her are. Danny Torrance is such a boy.
Danny can read minds. He can see the frightening thoughts inside his Dad's and Mom's heads ("DIVORCE", "SUICIDE") but is powerless to do anything about it. Danny does not know that he has a gift; he takes it as a matter of course, until Dick Halloran of the Overlook Hotel tells him that he "shines on".
Jack Torrance, Danny's Dad, reformed alcoholic and struggling writer, is trying to put his life back together after a tragedy. He gets what he sees as the ideal chance when he lands the job of caretaker of the Overlook Hotel for the winter. In the snowed-in hotel with only his son and wife Wendy, Jack assumes that he will get enough quality time to be with his family, patch up old quarrels, and write that breakout novel.
But the Overlook has other plans. The hotel, which feeds on and grows in strength from the evils committed on its premises, wants Danny-permanently-to join its crew of ghostly inhabitants. And to do that, it needs to get to Jack...
The novel slowly grows in horror, starting with mild unease, moving up through sweaty palms and dry mouth, to pure, gut-wrenching terror. Jack's slow slide into madness is paralleled by the growth in power of the hotel's dark miasma, and Danny's extraordinary capabilities. We are on a roller-coaster ride into darkness.
The world of grownups is often frighteningly incomprehensible to young children: these fears seldom die as we grow up, but remain dormant in our psyche. There are very few of us who does not have a ghost in our childhood somewhere. It is when the writer invokes this ghost that story gets to us. King does a masterly job of awakening that child, and putting him/ her in the midst of childhood terrors through the alter ego of Danny Torrance, lost in the cavernous corridors of the Overlook.
There are a lot of passages which literally creeped me out in this novel (the topiary animals, the fire hose in the corridor, the woman in the bathroom to name a few). As King has said elsewhere, the monster behind the door is more frightening than the monster slavering at you: this book is full of such monsters. More importantly, you will keep on remembering your own boogeymen while you are reading; and long after you finish, you will feel the urge to look behind you.
Horror stories are a form of catharsis. As King says, the writer takes you to the body covered under the sheet: you feel it, and are frightened. At the same time, you are relieved that the body is not you.
NEW DELHI: There has been an upward trend in cases of farmer suicides in Maharashtra, Telangana, Karnataka and Punjab recently, besides reporting of i
NEW DELHI: There has been an upward trend in cases of farmer suicides in Maharashtra, Telangana, Karnataka and Punjab recently, besides reporting of instances in Gujarat, Uttar Pradesh and Tamil Nadu, says an Intelligence Bureau note submitted to the Modi government late last week.
The December 19 report, marked to national security adviser Ajit Kumar Doval, principal secretary to the Prime Minister Nripendra Mishra, and agriculture ministry, among others, has blamed rising farmer suicides on erratic monsoon (at the onset stage) this year, outstanding loans, rising debt, low crop yield, poor procurement rate of crops and successive crop failure. It also linked the agriculturists' woes to a depleted water table, unsuitable macro-economic policies with respect to taxes, non-farm loans and faulty prices of import and export.
- The Times of India, Dec. 26, 2014
More than 270,000 Indian cotton farmers have killed themselves since 1995. Campaigners say a contributing factor may be the high price of genetically modified seeds flooding the market, which is piling pressure on poorly paid growers, forcing many into a cycle of unmanageable debt.
- The Guardian, May 5, 2014
There are some books which hit you with an impact like a sledgehammer. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck is such a book.
I read it during a period of recuperation after a severe bout of viral flu during my late teens. I never knew who Steinbeck was before I read this book, and I had only a sketchy idea of what the Great Depression was. After I finished it, I had become a fan of the author, and my political views had shifted permanently to the left of the spectrum.
The Western States nervous under the beginning change. Texas and Oklahoma, Kansas and Arkansas, New Mexico, Arizona, California. A single family moved from the land. Pa borrowed money from the bank, and now the bank wants the land. The land company--that's the bank when it has land--wants tractors, not families on the land. Is a tractor bad? Is the power that turns the long furrows wrong? If this tractor were ours it would be good--not mine, but ours. If our tractor turned the long furrows of our land, it would be good. Not my land, but ours. We could love that tractor then as we have loved this land when it was ours. But the tractor does two things--it turns the land and turns us off the land. There is little difference between this tractor and a tank. The people are driven, intimidated, hurt by both. We must think about this.
One man, one family driven from the land; this rusty car creaking along the highway to the west. I lost my land, a single tractor took my land. I am alone and bewildered. And in the night one family camps in a ditch and another family pulls in and the tents come out. The two men squat on their hams and the women and children listen. Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlarge of the thing you fear. This is the zygote. For here "I lost my land" is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate--"We lost our land." The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first "we" there grows a still more dangerous thing: "I have a little food" plus "I have none." If from this problem the sum is "We have a little food," the thing is on its way, the movement has direction. Only a little multiplication now, and this land, this tractor are ours. The two men squatting in a ditch, the little fire, the side-meat stewing in a single pot, the silent, stone-eyed women; behind, the children listening with their souls to words their minds do not understand. The night draws down. The baby has a cold. Here, take this blanket. It's wool. It was my mother's blanket--take it for the baby. This is the thing to bomb. This is the beginning--from "I" to "we."
If you who own the things people must have could understand this, you might preserve yourself. If you could separate causes from results, if you could know Paine, Marx, Jefferson, Lenin, were results, not causes, you might survive. But that you cannot know. For the quality of owning freezes you forever into "I," and cuts you off forever from the "we."
The Western States are nervous under the beginning change. Need is the stimulus to concept, concept to action. A half-million people moving over the country; a million more restive, ready to move; ten million more feeling the first nervousness.
And tractors turning the multiple furrows in the vacant land.
Has there been a change? I don't think so. The news items quoted above are only a sample.
The tractors of capitalism are still mowing the vacant land.
...and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.
Let's hope the world sees sense before the grapes of wrath are harvested.
Jung tied it all together for me, in this collection of essays which is very much accessible to the layman. Especially interesting are the third chapter on the process of individuation and the final one, the case history of one man's dream analysis.
This was the first book which assured me that my enduring interest in fairy tales was scholarly and not something to be scoffed at as juvenile. Until This was the first book which assured me that my enduring interest in fairy tales was scholarly and not something to be scoffed at as juvenile. Until then, I have been blissfully unaware of the psychological depth of fairy tales and how a lot of major literary works are inspired by them. Now there are fairy tale studies by the dozen, and many are fascinating: but Bettelheim is the first person who opened the door for me, therefore this book holds a special place in my heart.
I have read that, in the years since this book's publication, Bettelheim's analysis has been questioned. However, if you are new to the field of fairy tale studies, this may be the place to start. It is compulsively readable....more
Ever since I was a child, I have been fascinated by the similarities between Hindu myths and Greek myths. Then during my early twenties, I discovered Ever since I was a child, I have been fascinated by the similarities between Hindu myths and Greek myths. Then during my early twenties, I discovered Campbell and said to myself: "Voila! Somebody has noticed it before me!" Ever since then, I've been a Campbell fan.
The structure of the monomyth is so prevalent in many hero cycles, fairy tales, children's stories and popular films so it's a wonder how anybody can miss it. Campbell does an exhaustive job of digging through various mythologies of the world and bringing the similarities to light.
Whether you are a serious student of myth or just an ordinary person who loves stories, this book will hold you spellbound....more
In short: this book is unbelievable. The way a poignant story is told totally from a child's viewpoint is no mean achievement. The story has elements In short: this book is unbelievable. The way a poignant story is told totally from a child's viewpoint is no mean achievement. The story has elements of pathos, horror, suspense and delight, but Scout recounts it all with the nonchalance of a child who cannot yet grasp the wider implications of what is happening in the small corner of USA that is all her world. And the characters of Atticus Finch and Boo Radley are so finely etched that you feel that you know them personally.
My recommendation is: if you read only one book in your life, let this be it. ...more
Nandakishore
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