"Cookies" from Frog and Toad Together

I had never heard of “The Human Condition” before one of my professors brought it up in class and said we would be reading it for the course. Seeing as how there is high praise for Arendt written on the back cover and the reviews on Goodreads are quite high, I expected to at least somewhat enjoy it. Philosophy is not within my field of reading – I get lost in the wordiness of it, and sometimes lose my patience with the arguments when they contradict themselves or have apparent loopholes if they are applied to the practical world.

 

That is exactly what happened with “The Human Condition”. Most of what I read went right through me – I wasn’t sure which strands and ideas to cling onto, and which should be seen as support material. The book is an overload of philosophical theory, name dropping and referencing to philosophy’s past without thinking twice. And to someone who is familiar with the works of people like Hegel this won’t be a problem. But seeing as how I never touched anything of Hegel’s, and my one and only brief experience with Nietzsche ended up with me hissing at the book and returning it to the friend I borrowed it from, I was lost in a sea of information. The arguments got quite redundant at times and, although the fancy language was impressive, it often took away from the argument.

 

Then again – every person is entitled to their own theory, thoughts, and ways of expressing them. Just because Arendt didn’t speak to me doesn’t mean she isn’t worth reading. There were some extracts which I quoted for an assignment from the book that I thought were wonderful. This began from the very first page in the prologue, where Arendt talks about “the first “step toward escape from men’s imprisonment to the earth””, which was a very simple thought that somehow I never considered, and it left a lasting impact on me. If there were more clear and simple but truthful thoughts like this, I would’ve enjoyed the book a lot more. Instead reading it became a chore that I’m only too glad to have completed.

Human Condition - Jayne Finn Bumpy start, but this little love story definitely grew on me. As an unedited free read it certainly has its faults - but the main characters really were quite endearing and despite the dramatic plot, a bit too much drama at times, one might add, Human Condition was definitely an engaging read that leaves you with a happy feeling in the end.

The Human Condition (Song of the Ancesto... Book 2 of the Song of the Ancestors, The Human Condition, is another strong effort from John Grover that doesn't quite live up to the promise of Web of the Spider Queen, but still manages to be a solid read.

With the war against the aforementioned Spider Queen behind them, the races of Orum are slowly recovering, taking time to enjoy the rebirth of the world around them. Unfortunately, where the promise of romance should be building bridges between the races, old prejudices and hatreds put the fragile peace at risk. It's this slow, sweet opening to the story that I found to be the weakest part of the story, with the romantic dialogue a little too weak and cliched for my tastes. Fortunately for the reader (if not for the characters), tensions spill over and secrets are betrayed, leading to a civil war between the races.

As as the case with the first story, Grover excels at describing conflict, especially with the frantic scene changes and shifts in perspective. It all begins with the Amazons fighting among themselves, followed by the Faeries making war upon them, all over the fate of the single Human rescued from the Spider Queen's lair. It's a bitter war than sees allies turning upon one another, with a significant emotional component that escalates the conflict a notch above the original war. The battle scenes are as inventive as they are bloody, with some welcome new twists.

Where the book really comes into its own, though, is in the final stages of the story, with the descent into the world of frost fae, but to say much more about that would be to get into spoiler territory. To be honest, I wasn't sure where this second volume could go with the war against the Spider Queen already over, but I quite like the direction that Grover is taking, and look forward to seeing where it goes next.


Originally reviewed at Beauty in Ruins

http://msarki.tumblr.com/post/52517810639/geoff-dyer-essays

"If university had taught me anything it was that the world owed me a living"__Geoff Dyer from his essay, On the Roof

I worked from front to back as I am in the habit of doing when reading a book cover to cover. Sure, I skipped around and read a couple essays I noticed that were hiding on me, sort of, further back in the book just because there was no way I could wait that long to get to them and it was also a way for me to test this fellow Dyer's mettle and make sure I was not wasting my time. I remember really wanting to read My Life as a Gate-Crasher and for some strange reason I was also interested to read what he had to say about Denis Johnson's long and sprawling novel that I haven't read titled Tree of Smoke mostly because I had trashed the latest Johnson title Train Dreams which I not only read but owned for a short while before finding another sucker to buy it back from me on amazon.com. By reading these two essays ahead of time I became ever more confident to stick with my habitual program of reading a book from front to back. What surprised me most, and even thrilled me to some degree after finishing the book, were the two marvelous essays found at the very end. I was rewarded well for my continued patience and perseverance, though the reading and the time it took were not as difficult as I am making it out to be. The least I can say is this is a very good book.

If I could get my youngest son to read even one essay in this book it would be the one titled On the Roof. It is an honest portrayal of a budding artist-type, the twenty-eight year old man in the picture the very same age as my son is now, and with a life-plan he really wasn't meant to teach about, but teach he does and Van could certainly benefit from his thinking on this matter. But, as fathers are want to do, I will allow these thoughts of mine to go on to other deaf ears besides my young photographer. He seems to be doing well enough on his own, even if I think sometimes I anxiously have something so important to say to him that I am willing to risk damaging our loving relationship right here on this very page.

For the first time in my life I am impressed with a working writer who admits his undying love for the leisure class and his indifference to financial success. That is, if success means having to labor hard, and for small wages, as his parents did before him. "Living on the dole" is how Geoff Dyer phrases it. Reading and writing only what he wants to, and doing only what pleases himself, are his only true desires. Myself, having had to work a real job since the age of nine beginning by delivering the morning Detroit Free Press through the freezing rains and snow to overly-particular and miserly Scandinavians in the north country of Michigan I can perfectly relate to the craving of this leisure lifestyle, though I never had this life until after fifty years serving three careers and finally falling off the roof of my summer cabin and disabling myself for good. The fact that Geoff Dyer began his leisure-life immediately and continued on building the basis of this desired lifestyle throughout his first twenty-five years of living, is a testament to his fortitude and stubbornly mastered will. I love and respect his independence and lack of the same fear of what others might think of him that I certainly felt while growing up in small-town USA. To be more concise it is his audacity that I respect and admire most. It almost makes me want to cheer and yell several smiling and vigorous praises that are dancing like polkas in my head. But the question here rather is whether Geoff Dyer can write well or not, and certainly never about the one who willingly must follow.

It is not so much that Geoff Dyer is miles above most essayists, or that his writing age is closer to mine than the greatest of the already Mighty Dead, or even that his personality shines on brighter than, for sake of argument, another favorite writer of mine named Lee Klein. I believe simply that Geoff Dyer is a readable chap and worthy of further study and review. My next reading task will be Dyer's book Out of Sheer Rage: Wrestling With D.H. Lawrence.

But regarding this wonderful collection of essays found here, selected by Geoff Dyer himself because he wanted to, I was not at all interested in the comic book essay or any work regarding his love for jazz. Any historical essay regarding wars or threat of war did not interest me either, but almost everything else did especially when Dyer himself was totally present in it. Family history, growing up as an only child, his love for porno, sex, and drugs, and the many self-examination pieces were not at all bothersome, boring, or cumbersome in any way. Love affairs and his periods of recreational drug use tended to be encouraging for me and enlightening in less obvious ways than I would imagine they are for most readers. What I particularly enjoyed were the essays on photography especially the one about Miroslav Tichy and then the essays on writers such as F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Cheever, Sebald, Bernhard, and also Albert Camus. But the personal anecdotes and failed memories are what got to me the most. Titles such as On the Roof; Sacked; Unpacking My Library; and My Life as a Gate-Crasher. That is why I am wiling to go farther with him. To see what I can see about his wrestling match with rage. I would also go the distance with him and consider reading his book on the many photographers Dyer respects and admires titled The Ongoing Moment because I do like his eye for seeing things. The yoga book looks interesting too. But I doubt yet that I can put him up there with the likes of David Foster Wallace or Hunter S. Thompson. Not yet. Maybe for now Dyer can rest comfortably inside my second tier which includes the likes of John Jeremiah Sullivan, Roberto Bolano, and the sometimes Jonathan Lethem. But I am not finished with Dyer, not by a long shot. And I will get back to you on where he finally ranks in my nonfiction world when I am decidedly finished with my work. And like Geoff Dyer, that will be on my time, and obviously in no time too soon. And it is also likely, that is if he even knew, that Geoff Dyer would not even care.