Have you read?.. Arthur and George

Julian Barnes is one of those authors who seem to be writing books to cover the world. His work has no typical form or particular interest that absorbs his complete attention for any more than a single novel - though there are strands that might, perhaps, bring them together, - yet one of the few things that runs the gamut of his entire collection of fiction is delicately elegant and poignantly graceful prose. Arthur & George is reliably no different.

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Perhaps, like Martin Amis, Barnes could be accused of putting words before all other concerns of the novel, yet this would be an unfair and altogether blinkered proposition. His use of the English (and sometimes French and Latin) language does indeed dominate the pages of his book, but this is never at the expense of his characterisation or theme(s), plot or setting, and could even be said to place them more forcefully into the mind of the reader with an incomparable style, comprising all of the wit, clarity, and effective dialogue of the master wordsmith.

Like his most famous work Flaubert's Parrot, Arthur & George draws on true events to frame the narrative of the weaving pen of the author, which not only gives the plot a driving force of realism and suspense, but also constructs characters that are more than merely plausible, being quite literally palpable, events that are suspenseful and reach a satisfyingly genuine resolution, and a setting that has previously not been explored in any serious detail, being a mere diversion from the facts of the actual occurrence as it took place.

It is based on what later became known as the 'Great Wyrley Outrages' - a series of brutal cuttings of horses in the small town of Wyrley, in which a local half-Indian solicitor (the titular George) is implicated by a racist community, desperate police-force, and ill-informed court, to be saved from absolute disgrace by the imposing public figure of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (pictured above).

Though this case was, no doubt, embroidered to fit the form of 'Conan Doyle the Victorian hero' at the time, Barnes puts all of his ironical power into play, lacing the tale with the tragicomedy of a man resting on his pride and clandestinely despising the helping hand of his apparent 'saviour', as well as satirising an ill-bred racist society and the wrongful imprisonment of an innocent man, while at the same time thoroughly exploring the determined 'Britishness' of George and the spiritualist bent of Arthur as both characters move in very different directions over the course of the novel, which covers a fair stretch of time.

Many would consider this story of truth yet another foray into historical fiction, with all the trappings of characters standing on a curious mixture of creativity and research, a setting without idealistic merit and bound by the reality of the landscape in actuality, and a plot already told, but they would, quite simply, be wrong. With research comes knowledge, with reality comes relatability, and with retelling comes previously unconsidered viewpoints, and a possible story that comes closer to the truth than any earlier attempt. There is much to be gained from the past, and Barnes finds it by bringing just enough of the present to bear upon this story of two very different men, in a time not so different from our own.

Card Games Versus Computer Games

The memories flood back of learning to play games such as euchre and 500 as children and the hours we spent doing the same as we grew up. The fascination such held for me was as a lesson in maths each time we played. Later when at University many of the students would collect around the tables in the student's quarters and cards were always on the agenda vlog sekolah

What fun we all had and the challenges were exciting. Now, however, there is hardly anyone playing cards because computer and Xbox games have taken over in many homes. My young grandchildren spend hours in front of the television with a joystick in their hands doing stuff that has no intellectual advantage. Even adults have their enjoyment with the things they can do on a computer instead of around a table with the family.

In recent years my endeavours have stretched to Bridge and also playing 500 at the local clubs, which run sessions on week-nights. It is interesting to see how many of the oldies, like me, enjoy the night out and how competitive such endeavours can be.

The brain needs stimulation as one ages and there is no better way to exercise it than by having to think your way to a win in a card game. Isn't that something young people will get benefits from as well? While my generation grew up in a different world where television and computers had not yet been invented my kids now think they are smarter because they can outdo me on the computer. If only they knew what they are missing out on.

Have you read?.. Another Country

vlog sekolah - I find novels of bohemianism infinitely attractive. With their liberal joie de vivre in the face of bitter adversity, their respect for people irrespective of creed or class, their creative stimulus that drives them on, and their healthy spurning of the currency of money.

What is also very exciting about them is the simple and altogether physical pleasure derived from reading about the taboos and ill-conceived acts of a group of people you could never be a part of, for many reasons, but mostly, because one simply cares more about life than they appear to.

While James Baldwin's Another Country has all of the trappings of 1950s American dilettantism, it crosses the boundary of what is essentially a genre of extreme parody, effectually satirising the conservative world by highlighting the fun of its polar opposite, into a serious book on racism, sexual inequality, homophobia, xenophobia, and the problems faced in a life ruined by a love of music and artistry. While this is understandable, when Baldwin himself is considered (as a gay black man in America at this time, during which he must have suffered great indignity), it goes just far enough to make the reader feel guilty for ever enjoying the face of a novelistic 'type', without truly comprehending its roots. This is good, in many ways, but bad in a great deal more.

Another Country is really about tragedy in its original sense. As Aristotle set down the principle rules of this eminent genre, Baldwin almost seems to trace his characters straight out of the Ancient Greek premise. The hamartia of the hero (his fatal flaw that ruins him) can be seen through Rufus Scott's internalised racism that he sees through the eyes of so many people. His paranoia prevents him from becoming a successful jazz drummer as he always wanted to be, and the lover to Leona (a white woman from the south, troubled dramatically with her own failed life) as she would like him to be. The peripeteia, or decline of the hero, is clear as Rufus brings himself to destruction via this racism, and the cathartic outpouring - which comes as a result of the eventual anagnorisis (sudden realisation of the flaw at a time to late to prevent the fall) of Rufus who, too late, appreciates his fault in his downfall, - is traced through the lives of his friends Richard, Cass, Eric, and more importantly Vivaldo and Rufus' sister Ida, whose relationship is also fated to eventual doom through the opposite form of racism, i.e. that of the black woman towards the white man.

With complex themes of jealousy, ignorance, sexuality, denial, as well as the aforementioned burdens of this effort-fully poignant novel, and many others besides, Another Country stops being a novel about the 'country' designed by bohemian codes of living, designed around expression and artistic impressionism, and instead becomes a lecture, almost a rant, on the frailties of man. This is not an enjoyable novel, nor does it make the reader feel good about themselves or their lives, or indeed the world in which they live. What it does feel, however, is necessary.

It would have been very easy to put the book down and simply stop trying, and this, at times, is very tempting; but the infinite sadness of the characters, the events you wish you could stop before they happen, and the ever-compelling setting of down-town New York all contribute to combat this instinct when combined with the obligation the reader feels to finish the book, no matter how painful.

The characters of Another Country are quite clearly drawn from real life - in most part from Baldwin himself, as he sees Rufus as his persona had he stayed in New York and struggled on, Eric as an expression of his relaxation, literary expression, and sexual gratification while in Paris, and Vivaldo characterises his difficulty with writing (this novel alone took fourteen years to finish). It would be routine, at this juncture, to refer to Baldwin's style, but in this novel it strangely seems not to matter. There are few errors and the novel is easy to read, which is its entire point. The reader is to follow the lives of the characters to their end without deviation, and Baldwin's prose, being stark and often profane, establishes this without any unnecessary literary trappings. He simply tells the story as he feels it.

New York is, and always will be, a haven for artists and a pit of torment for them. Its atmosphere in the steam of its pavement-vents, in the piercing yellow of the taxis, and the cruel height of its buildings at once seems to measure success against failure in every line of Baldwin's novel. This is, perhaps, the saving grace of a novel built around the feelings of immense hurt that are wholly individual and, as a result of this, sometimes a little hard to read. Nevertheless, the novel is winning in many other respects, and comes, in this review, with a respect hard-won.