Time for tomes: dmsteyn's reading 2013 Part Two

Fifth month, second thread.

Currently Reading

Revelations: Personal Responses to the Books of the Bible by Various


The Cambridge Companion to Existentialism, edited by Steven Crowell

Books Finished

July
31. Phenomenology of Perception by Maurice Merleau-Ponty
30. The Song of the Earth by Jonathan Bate
29. The Night Battles by Carlo Ginzburg

June
28. The Poetics of Myth by Eleazar M. Meletinsky
27. The Supernatural and English Fiction by Glen Cavaliero
26. Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells Tower
25. The Science of Mythology by C.G. Jung and C. Kerenyi

May
24. The Gospel According to Jesus Christ by Jose Saramago
23. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
22. Charles Dickens: A Life by Claire Tomalin
21. Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates

April
20. Peripheral Light: Selected and New Poems by John Kinsella
19. The Major Works by Percy Bysshe Shelley
18. Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare
17. Freud by Jonathan Lear
16. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens = re-read
15. She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith = re-read

March
14. The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney
13. The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror 20 edited by Stephen Jones
12. Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said by Philip K. Dick
11. Fictions/Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges
10. The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

February
9. The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh
8. The Complete Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino
7. I Shall Wear Midnight by Sir Terry Pratchett
6. The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker

January
5. A Preface to Shelley by Patricia Hodgart
4. Shadow Country by Peter Matthiessen
3. The Complete Poems of Hart Crane
2. The Essence of Christianity by Ludwig Feuerbach (as translated by George Eliot)
1. Religion and the Decline of Magic by Keith Thomas

21. Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates



… I remember looking at you and thinking ‘God, if only he’d stop talking.’ Because everything you said was based on this great premise of ours that we’re somehow very special and superior to the whole thing, and I wanted to say ‘But we’re not! Look at us! We’re just like the people you’re talking about! We are the people you’re talking about!’ - p.110

Revolutionary Road is a devastating look at the disintegration of a marriage. It is also an indictment of a certain way of living, perhaps even of a whole culture. Enough dirt has been flung on the idea of the ‘American Dream’ for me to desist from doing so, but Richard Yates clearly had serious problems with the superficial, materialistic culture of the 50s, enough so to write a searing account of one couple and their hopeless attempts to escape the pitfalls of middle America.

Frank and April Wheeler are upper-middle class suburbanites living lives of quiet desperation. Frank works for the same company his father worked for, ostensibly as a lark, or until he can find a better job, but really it seems because he is haunted by a feeling of inadequacy towards his father. April has, by default, become a suburban housewife, looking after the Wheelers’ two young children. Both Frank and April are intelligent, attractive people, and believe that they are somehow superior to their neighbours and friends. They hatch a scheme to emigrate to France, where April will work while Frank takes time to ‘find himself’ (a concept that is never fully explained by the Wheelers, probably because they hardly know what this means themselves). The best laid plans of mice and men, however… April falls pregnant again, while Frank commits adultery, and the plot heads towards a harrowing conclusion.

I could employ any amount of clichés to describe the book (e.g. ‘it packs an emotional punch’, etc.), but they would all ultimately be reductive. Although the book does pack a punch, it is almost more of a sucker punch than anything else. Like all good tragedy, one expects things to come to a terrible end, but Yates manages to make the Wheelers’ traumatic story personal in its impact. The book is written with tremendous force, and contains insights about modern life that are still very much applicable to contemporary society. One almost wishes that the things Yates writes weren’t true, but one must ultimately admit the honesty of his critique.

Besides the ending of the novel (scenes which I won’t give away) the parts that affected me the most were those involving John Givings. He is the son of the Wheelers’ estate agent, and also an inmate in an insane asylum. He used to be a mathematician, so his parents take him to visit the Wheelers, as he will supposedly be able to relate to this intelligent, sophisticated couple. But things do not work out the way the Givingses imagined, as John treats his parents with contempt, while forming a strange rapport with the Wheelers. These scenes are excellent. They show the absurdity that often lies behind the notion of institutionalisation (John finds his whole situation ridiculous), while still showing insanity without hiding its traumatic aspects.

The Wheelers’ struggle to be something more than they are ends up destroying them. Perhaps we are all condemned to ‘vaulting ambition’, and this cautionary tale warns us against reaching too far. And yet, there is irony here as well. Richard Yates himself tried to grasp success through writing, yet remained a fairly obscure entity until recently. Maybe he could appreciate the Wheelers’ tale more than most. In any case, this is a wonderful, sad novel, perhaps the best evocation of suburban malaise I have ever read.

Dewald, I really enjoyed your review. Some books really do "stand the test of time", and this sounds like it fits in that category.

Excellent review of Revolutionary Road. It has garnered a whole lot of reviews on club read recently and so the novel must have been a bit of a sleeper.

Enjoyed your review of Revolutionry Road very much.

Thanks Colleen, Barry and Merrikay! I know there was a recent push from a number of distinguished writers (Julian Barnes among them, if I'm not mistaken) to get Revolutionary Road more credit as a classic. There was also the film version, which is apparently... not so good. But, then, it isn't really a very 'cinematic' book, if you get my meaning. Most of it consists of dialogue in the Wheelers' home, or visits to Frank's work. The book actually begins with a production of The Petrified Forest, in which April plays the lead female role.

I enjoyed your review of Revolutionary Road too. I first read it about five or six years ago (maybe a little more, but definitely before I was posting reviews on LT) and felt it had compeltely stood the test of time. I wouldn't rent the film version since I can't imagine Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslett as Frank and April.

Seeing the film was what prompted me to read the book, which you've nailed down beautifully. I then went on to read another Yates, Young Hearts Crying, and I will read more. It will be interesting to see if Yates does get to classic author status. I read these two books quite close together and I was left wondering if he was one of those authors fixated on one particular theme.

Here's the cover from my copy of Revolutionary Road, which for me really seems to capture the era:

That's the same cover I have, Sassy. I have a book of Collected Stories by Yates, which I've been meaning to get to since I read RR.

>8 rebeccanyc:-10 Thanks, Rebecca and Sassy! DiCaprio and Winslet together remind me too much of Titanic, unfortunately.

I would also like to read more of Yates, though I don't really know where to start. I'll see which of his books Vintage have put out.

I'm a bit torn between the covers: I like the evocation of the era in both. Mine is based on advertisements from the era, very much Mad Menish. But I also like the car, as well as the sepia-like colours of your books.

Fabulous review of Revolutionary Road, Dewald.

>12 kidzdoc: Thanks, Darryl. Have you been away? Haven't seen you updating in a while.

>13 dmsteyn: You're right, Dewald, I've been largely absent from my own thread for the past month, mainly because I haven't written any reviews in quite awhile. I've been reading at a better clip since March, as I finished 12 books in April and four so far this month. I'll post some mini-reviews starting today, along with a longer review of Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

I'm a late getting here, but fascinated by your review of Revolutionary Road and the discussion about Richard Yates.

Thanks, Dan!

Sorry I haven't been posting for a while... I've been busy with a production of She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith for our first-year students. It was only a reading of the play, but we had costumes, props and everything else!

I promise to post a photo of me as Mr Hardcastle, if/when I get the pictures...

24. The Gospel According to Jesus Christ by José Saramago



In José Saramago’s The Gospel According to Jesus Christ the reader is faced with the story of a man, or the Son of Man, or the Son of God, but pre-eminently the story of a man. Saramago, a Nobel laureate who passed away a few years ago, posits in this novel the extraordinary question of what it would feel like for an ordinary human being to discover that he is not only the son of Joseph the carpenter and Mary the wool-carder, but also of God Almighty. Saramago’s story is, however, more than a humanist version of the gospels. His Jesus is the Jesus of the Bible, but also… more? less? Well, it is difficult to say. What one can say is that Saramago incorporates most of the events of the gospels, but inverts them slightly. Whereas the Jesus of the Bible nearly always seems preternaturally assured, the Jesus of Saramago’s novel reacts to events like an actual human being would. He is sometimes reluctant, sometimes disobedient, always human. When he meets God, or when he meets Satan, Saramago’s Jesus is initially overwhelmed, as any human being might be.

And what a God, and what a Satan! Saramago writes what could easily devolve into a furious polemic in less-assured hands: his God is an autocratic ruler with little love for his only Son, a tyrant who arbitrarily decides on the pale Galilean as the perfect way to expand His empire on earth. In other words, Saramago’s God is no different from the God of the Bible, or the God of Paradise Lost, or the God of Dante. I should probably confess here that I am quite sympathetic to Saramago’s view of the Christian God – in the sense that I agree there are severe problems with the traditional role of God. If there is a Christian God, I agree with Dostoyevsky’s Ivan Karamazov that He is doing a terrible job. Yes, I know there are arguments for why there is suffering in the world. But, along with Saramago, I reject them. I am, however, not a militant atheist, so I will not go into polemical mode here. Just putting my cards on the table.

Satan is, by comparison, a very sympathetic character in Saramago’s character. Not only does Satan seem to have more than a selective interest in Jesus, but he actually helps him throughout the novel. Interestingly, it is Satan who plays the role of the Good Shepherd in the novel, teaching Jesus how to protect an ever-expanding flock of sheep and goats.

The novel has a lot more background than the canonical gospels. Joseph and Mary are fleshed out characters, with Joseph racked with guilt for saving Jesus from Herod’s massacre of the children while not alerting the other villagers of Bethlehem. Jesus initially sees this as a curse on him, a sin of the father, but later realises that it is a sin of the Father, who continually browbeats and tricks him into following His will. Joseph is, coincidentally, also crucified by the Romans, who mistake him for an agitator. Jesus also has several brothers and sisters in the novel, who play interesting-if-tangential roles in the novel.

The most interesting relationship is that between Jesus and Mary Magdalene. She is a prostitute, yet Jesus falls in love with her after they have a carnal relationship. Sensitive or religious readers will probably reject the book for this and other reasons, but then again, they probably will not pick up the book in the first place. I, however, found Jesus and Mary Magdalene’s relationship beautiful and meaningful. Jesus is a much more humane character in this novel (in my opinion) than he appears to be in the Bible, and this is because of his fragility and insecurities. Jesus so rarely seems anxious in the Bible that he rarely seems truly human.

The one thing about the book that I am not completely enamoured of is Saramago’s style. He uses incredibly long paragraphs, and does not punctuate dialogue, which leads to some confusion at times. I assume it has some kind of purposeful alienating effect, to separate the novel from the canonical gospels, but I did not care for it greatly. Otherwise, this is a powerful condemnation of the Christian God, which avoids too much polemic by presenting Jesus as a reluctant Messiah, tricked and tortured by a despot, but transcendentally human.

That sounds fascinating!

Excellent review Dewald. Alternative narratives of the life of Jesus always are of interest to me.

I love Saramago, but I wonder whether you have to know more about the New Testament than I do to appreciate this novel.

Great review of The Gospel According to Jesus Christ. Clearly, following your review I will not be offended if I pick up this novel. Sounds like a lot of fun.

Thanks, Merrikay, Zeno, Rebecca, and Barry!

>20 zenomax: Would you recommend any other alternative narratives, Zeno?

>21 rebeccanyc: Rebecca, I don't think one really needs an in-depth knowledge of the New Testament to at least understand some of Saramago's inversions. I don't really have such an in-depth knowledge, so maybe I missed things. Still found it fascinating and moving. By the way, which of Saramago's other books have you read? I own several, but this is the first one I've read.

>22 baswood: Barry, I see that several other reviewers have found the book much more offensive than I did, so caveat emptor.

Dewald, I've been monitoring a book called Alternative Lives of Jesus which looks interesting. There is also Albert Schweitzer's work on the life of Jesus.

I am also very much taken by a couple of pages in Gracq's novel A Dark Stranger, in which, really in parentheses to the rest of the story, Gracq discusses the period between
Jesus' death and his resurrection...

Saramago's Gospel is one of my favorite books. He said he had intentionally cultivated his unusual writing style as representation of spontaneous, digressive spoken literature. It was really his disregard for narrative convention.

Great review of Saramago's The Gospel According to Jesus Christ. I really like Saramago's style - in a will-buy-pretty-much-anything-by-him kind of way - but will make a note about this one.

#23 Dewald, I've read The History of the Siege of Lisbon, which I loved. It inspired me to buy several other books by Saramago, none of which I've read yet: The Stone Raft, The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis, and Death with Interruptions. I do need to get to one or more of them, and I'm going to be resolute and not buy any more until I do so!

Fabulous review of The Gospel According to Jesus Christ, Dewald! I read it last year (or was it two years ago), and your review has added to my appreciation of this fabulous novel.

>28 kidzdoc: Thanks, Darryl. Glad, and surprised, to have added to your appreciation.

Great review of The Gospel According to Jesus Christ, Dewald. Knowing how much you, Rise and Darryl all appreciated it makes me anxious to read it.

Thank you, Linda! I hope you enjoy it.

The Gospel According to Jesus Christ sounds very interesting. I am going to get through the other books by him before I bring this one in to my home though. I hated, hated, hated Blindness and Saramago has been in my bad books ever since.

I read Cain last year. It might be interesting to compare the two books. But...I didn't love Cain, didn't get a sense of a great deal of complexity behind it...but I still think about it...

Anyway, enjoyed your review. Saramago's style is curious, but didn't bother me in Cain. The lack of punctuation felt natural, mostly.

Hello everyone, and sorry that I haven't been active on the forum for the last month or so. I was a sick with the flu for a while, and after that, I re-read several books for my studies that I didn't feel like reviewing. I hope to get back into the swing of things over the next few weeks, so expect to see more of me on the forum! My first review should be of Kierkegaard's The Sickness Unto Death.

Sorry you've been sick, and glad you're feeling better!

Thanks, Rebecca!

Glad to see you back. Take care of yourself.

Thank you very much, Merrikay!

Perhaps it was reading Kierkegaard that made you sick. Glad you are better now and I am looking forward to your reviews.

The flu can really knock you out. Glad that you feel well enough to be back.

Still laughing at Baswood.

>39 baswood:, 41 Heh. More like The Sickness unto Bed, luckily...

>40 NanaCC: That's definitely true, Colleen. Luckily, winter is almost done here in South Africa, so I should be able to warm up and get back into the swing of things.

Welcome back, Dewald!

Oops, didn't see you there, Darryl. Thanks!

The Sickness unto Death by Søren Kierkegaard





“To understand and understand; are these then two different things? Certainly.”

Understanding Kierkegaard is not always straightforward. Not only must one know something about Kierkegaard’s personal history, but one also needs to know some of the philosophical background, especially Kierkegaard’s on-going polemic with G.W.F. Hegel. Despite Hegel having died in 1831, almost 20 years before the publication of The Sickness unto Death Kierkegaard spends a lot of time opposing Hegel’s “System” of philosophy. Obviously, I cannot go into any detail here, but Kierkegaard appears to have felt that Hegel had erroneously done away with the element of human existence in his systematic view of history. Hegel focused on large, abstract forces in history, but he ignored the individual existence buffeted by these forces. Whether this is a plausible reading of Hegel is beyond the scope of my review or my knowledge, but Kierkegaard, known as the father of existentialism, certainly refers to Hegelian ideas quite often, usually to dismiss them.

Kierkegaard’s existentialism (a term he never used) differs from, say, Jean-Paul Sartre’s atheistic existentialism by focusing very much on Christianity. Kierkegaard was incensed by the sham religiosity prevalent among the well-to-do citizens of Copenhagen, so much so that he called their form of self-satisfied Christianity “Christendom”, a negative formulation for their institutionalised belief. In The Sickness unto Death, written under the pseudonym Anti-Climacus, Kierkegaard diagnoses the “spiritual sickness” he associates with non-believers, but also these quasi-believers, people who feel they are Christians, but who do not really live up to their ideals. Kierkegaard says that “the sickness unto death” is despair, and he uses the story of Lazarus to illustrate this: Lazarus was raised from the dead by Jesus but, as Kierkegaard points out, we have to assume that Lazarus did eventually die. The real resurrection is belief in Christ, and death is only real when one despairs of being saved by Christ. I should point out here that Kierkegaard, despite being very Christian, never tries to prove the truth of Christianity to the reader. In fact, he says that it is “extraordinarily stupid” to defend Christianity, that “the person who first thought of defending Christianity in Christendom is de facto a Judas No.2…” This is because, as Kierkegaard argues, Christianity is based on a paradox of such startling absurdity, of such breath-taking non-sense, that any attempt to rationally defend or explain it is pointless. One either takes the leap of faith, or one doesn’t.

This is definitely a problem for secular readers of The Sickness unto Death, especially the second part of the book, where Kierkegaard equates despair with sin. If you do not accept the basic foundation of Kierkegaard’s argument (i.e. Christianity) you might very well completely dismiss the book. Which would be a mistake, as Kierkegaard has many interesting things to say about despair and the condition of the individual human being. His vast learning shines through on every page, as does his verbal ingenuity – the translator alerts the reader to Kierkegaard’s wordplay, which often does not make the transition into English.

What did I personally think of Kierkegaard’s argument? I find that difficult to answer. I view myself as a bit of a theistic existentialist (i.e. a believer with existentialist notions), but I have serious doubts about concepts like “original sin” and “eternal damnation”. What does prove reassuring is that Kierkegaard also had doubts: one of the main reasons he writes pseudonymously is because he does not completely ally himself with the viewpoints of the pseudonyms. For instance, Kierkegaard wrote in his journal that he puts himself “lower than Anti-Climacus”, indicating that he is not as “good a Christian” as his pseudonym. This despite Kierkegaard’s own somewhat austere, rigid Christianity. What I am trying to say, in a very groping, unorganised fashion, is that Kierkegaard remains a fascinating-if-problematic influence for me. Sometimes, when I am in despair at the world and at my most pessimistic, or when my doubts about God, or gods, or what-you-will, overwhelms me, I wonder how Kierkegaard, one of the finest minds of European civilisation, could believe in the stuff and nonsense of a 2000-year old legend about a carpenter somewhere in the middle of nowhere. But at other times, I begin to doubt my doubts, and then I worry that I am in the same despair that Kierkegaard writes so penetratingly about.

This book certainly won’t be for everyone. It is densely written and, as I mentioned at the beginning, requires some knowledge of Kierkegaard and his philosophy. But, to paraphrase Yeats, there’s a fascination in what’s difficult. Perhaps others will come to Kierkegaard in time, whether to praise or condemn, I won’t presume to say.

Fabulous review of The Sickness Unto Death, Dewald! I was very interested in existentialism when I was an undergraduate student (my minor was philosophy), and as a Christian I was particularly interested in exploring Kierkegaard, but I didn't do so then and still haven't. I do want to learn more about him, and then explore his writings. I have Kierkegaard: An Introduction by Hermann Diem, published by Cambridge University Press, and I'm certain that I have at least one or two of Kierkegaard's works in my collection of uncategorized books from college. Hopefully I can get to that book and The Sickness Unto Death next year.

Thanks also for your personal thoughts, which appear to mirror mine.

Thank you for your gracious comments, Darryl. I was a bit apprehensive about the review, to be honest, as I am aware that religion can be a minefield, and didn't want to offend anyone unnecessarily. However, Club Read seems to be broad church (if that's the right word) and most people here seem to enter into discussions with open minds.

On Kierkegaard, I own Either/Or, but not the abridged Penguin edition, as well as Fear and Trembling. I hope to read some more academic works on him from the university library. He seems to have been a fascinating individual, so some kind of biography might also be enlightening.

i have always felt I should know more about philosophy, and wanted to take a course in college, but I wanted to take a general overview course and all the courses offered focused on individual philosophers, which seemed like more than I wanted. I appreciate learning something about Kierkegaard; thank you.

Welcome back. Enjoyed your excellent review on Kierkegaard. I love your term of Club Read as a broad church. It's nice that we are pretty open and respectful to the variations of religious perspectives here.

>48 rebeccanyc: Rebecca, thank you for taking the time to read the review. Interestingly enough, nearly all my university courses have been of the overview variety, with the effect that I feel like a dilettante when it comes to most students from outside South Africa.

>49 dchaikin: Thanks Dan, and I agree, it is wonderful that we can discuss these kinds of things in a respectful atmosphere.

I really appreciate your review of Kierkegaard. It is very informative, and now he is more than just a name to me. But your comments also reinforced my feelings that I should do my own reading of philosophy systematically and chronologically, even if I never make it to the 19th century.

Where are you going to start with your chronological reading of philosophy Steven?

Excellent review of The sickness unto death. I am one of those that can't make that great leap of faith, but I think I understand those who sincerely can. I will get to Kierkegaard one day, but already feel I have learnt something from your review. Welcome back indeed.

#52 - See the very first item now on my reading shelf: The First Philosophers (can't start much earlier than that!). I'll be mixing philosophy and literature like you are in your Renaissance reading, etc., but I'll be skipping over books I've read fairly recently, which includes much of Plato and Aristotle.

Excellent review of The Sickness unto Death. As an atheist I can understand your concern that religion can be a minefield but I'm so glad you feel comfortable enough with us all to go ahead. It doesn't really matter if we agree with a writer, philosopher, reviewer: being able to share their opinion is more important. I took philosophy in college but remember little about Kierkegaard (too long ago I expect) so I appreciate your mini-refresher.

>51 StevenTX: It's a pleasure, Steven. Good luck with approaching philosophy systematically and chronologically - I wish I had the time for a more organised reading of the subject.

>52 baswood: Thanks, Barry! I hope you do get to Kierkegaard; your thoughts would be welcome.

>54 VivienneR: Glad you liked the review, Vivienne; I guess my fears were overblown.

Many thanks for the education on Kierkegaard. I enjoyed it and needed it!

Catching up here -- great review of Sickness Unto Death and interesting ensuing discussion.

>56 mkboylan: Thank you, Merrikay. I'm not sure whether anyone really needs it, but I'm glad you enjoyed it!

>57 janeajones: Thanks, Jane. I always enjoy it when there is some kind of discussion after the reviews. There would be little point in posting them if I didn't get some kind of feedback.

Great Kierkegaard review. Although I haven't read that particular book, I did spend some time studying existentialism. Kierkegaard was included but never seemed to quite fit. Reading your review, it makes me think of the social context in which he wrote: a closed, Christian community, infused with Lutheran ideas. Quite different from the milieu of someone like Sartre. I do like the idea of despair as a "sickness unto death". I think I should like to read this. It would be interesting to know how his philosophy would have developed had he lived longer.

Thanks, Sassy, and sorry for taking so long to respond. You raise many interesting points about our man Kierkegaard, especially concerning his social context. I think his familial context had an even bigger influence on him, especially his paternal, pious father. Concerning his relatively early death, Kierkegaard actually believed he was cursed to die before his thirty-third birthday (some connotations with Jesus' death, evidently), as most of his siblings did. Luckily for us, he didn't, though I also wonder what else he might have come up with.