Skip to main content

Another Two Belated Book Reviews

Continuing the attempt to catch up, here are another couple of reviews.

Erich Maria Remarque, The Night in Lisbon
Solid little story about the difficulties faced by refugees who’ve fled Nazi Germany. Although hampered by rather staid and pedestrian dialogue, the story itself moves briskly enough to keep things ticking over. Though lacking when measured against All Quiet on the Western Front, Remarque manages to construct a disturbing account of courage and cowardice, love, faith, evil and everything in between. I’m somewhat surprised that this hasn’t been made into a film, because it has all the ingredients of a tragic romance. Although the love story remains a little clichéd and predictable, it does manage to reconstruct the little known (to me at least) world of those who left Germany in the face of persecution, but struggled to find anyone prepared to take them. The fact that Remarque himself faced this brings authenticity to the tale. Mildly recommended.

Giles Foden, Mimi and Toutou Go Forth
A really good example of an accessible history text by the author of The Last King of Scotland, Ladysmith, and Zanzibar. Foden has a good local knowledge of Africa, and has done a fair bit of research here. Supporting this, the author's personal accounts of his visits to the area nicely supplement the lesson, and put the events that transpired into proper historical context. Reconstructing a bright and colourful historical account of a forgotten episode in the East Africa theatre during World War One, namely the British naval campaign on Lake Tanganyika, it reads very much as a Boy’s Own adventure. As much an exploration (evisceration?) of the character of leading officer Geoffrey Spicer-Simson, this book really is both an interesting and amusing romp. As an aside, I enjoyed the cartoons accompanying each chapter, but would have loved some more detailed pictures of the vessels involved. It is such an odd little tale, it was somewhat difficult to conjure up visual images. Recommended.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.