If I ever write a memoir, I think that will have to be the title. So much of my life can be listed under that heading. It feels like I never quite accomplish, never quite reach the goal I'm working toward. (And, of course, there are many, many backslidings.) All of my attempts at bettering myself, improving my skills in various areas, challenging myself to do more ... they all remain on my mind, even when they've been pushed to the back burner. I rarely give up on an idea completely ... but I also rarely have the opportunity to put into an accomplishment all the energy that would enable me to "complete" it.
Having said all that, I suspect all those sentiments are shared by many, many people. Because, really, what's the alternative to living life "in progress"? Well, you could stop short, halting somewhere that feels comfortable. That works for some people, I suppose, but eventually, wouldn't you want something more? You could give up, assuming nothing will ever go right and you'll never actually complete any of the things you're trying to do, but then you go backwards, and find you have less and less to be proud of. (That would be the story of my mother's life—the shining star who ended up sinking so far into the mud that no one remembered by the end how the star had sparkled.) You could stand, hands proudly on your hips, looking around from what appears to be the pinnacle of your life, and settle in, smugly believing that you have "finished," you have "achieved." But then what would you do the next day?
I think those people who are striving, who are working toward something (no matter what it is) every day, or at least trying to, are the most interesting types. You meet someone who is challenging themselves, asking "what more is there?", and yes, on the surface they may seem restless and possibly even discontented. But underneath there's a striving for personal greatness that makes a "work in progress" something worth being.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
book report - Civil War
I know—I keep promising non-book report entries and then not delivering. Essentially, I'm finding that when I have the time to blog, I either have too much to say or not enough. As with so many things, it's a work in progress.
Anyway, on to my three recently read Civil War books.
William C. Davis, The Civil War Reenactors' Encyclopedia. For the record, I am not a reenactor. It's something I would like to look into, but would require a lot more time than I have at my disposal right now! But the Encyclopedia was really useful as a writer's guide as well. It consists of pages and pages of descriptions of a soldier's kit, from both sides, with really high quality pictures of the actual items. And really covers anything that a soldier would have touched or carried, from the basics of shirt and pants to musical instruments, sentimental items, and and flags. Definitely a keeper.
Deanne Blanton and Lauren M. Cook, They Fought Like Demons: Women Soldiers in the Civil War. Really interesting overview of women's experiences, and more just a detailed look at what is known about women's service in the war. Some of their statements imply a level of knowledge that it's just impossible to have ... but they also make it very clear that we only know today about those women who were discovered for one reason or another (usually wounds or pregnancies) or who became famous in later years (Albert Cashier, for example). Numbers of women almost certainly served who either left the service undetected or were buried as the men they pretended to be. The book supported most of its assertions through stories of those women who are known to have served, and really was a very interesting and informative read.
Peter F. Stevens, Rebels in Blue: The Story of Keith and Malinda Blalock. I'm usually tempted by any work on this particular subject matter, especially when it implies a woman serving as well. So I picked this one up, and got something that was not exactly what I expected. The "service" described was more of a guerrilla position, where these people fought the war in their own back yard, keeping an eye on Confederate activity in their North Carolina mountain home area. But it was still very compelling. It required great conviction on the part of both husband and wife to stand up for what they believed in, against the equal conviction of neighbors and in some cases family. And the two of them were apparently both just fascinating people. I found the ending chapter, on the late life of Keith Blalock, particularly interesting. So I'm not sure if this forwarded my research or not, but it was well worth reading.
Anyway, on to my three recently read Civil War books.
William C. Davis, The Civil War Reenactors' Encyclopedia. For the record, I am not a reenactor. It's something I would like to look into, but would require a lot more time than I have at my disposal right now! But the Encyclopedia was really useful as a writer's guide as well. It consists of pages and pages of descriptions of a soldier's kit, from both sides, with really high quality pictures of the actual items. And really covers anything that a soldier would have touched or carried, from the basics of shirt and pants to musical instruments, sentimental items, and and flags. Definitely a keeper.
Deanne Blanton and Lauren M. Cook, They Fought Like Demons: Women Soldiers in the Civil War. Really interesting overview of women's experiences, and more just a detailed look at what is known about women's service in the war. Some of their statements imply a level of knowledge that it's just impossible to have ... but they also make it very clear that we only know today about those women who were discovered for one reason or another (usually wounds or pregnancies) or who became famous in later years (Albert Cashier, for example). Numbers of women almost certainly served who either left the service undetected or were buried as the men they pretended to be. The book supported most of its assertions through stories of those women who are known to have served, and really was a very interesting and informative read.
Peter F. Stevens, Rebels in Blue: The Story of Keith and Malinda Blalock. I'm usually tempted by any work on this particular subject matter, especially when it implies a woman serving as well. So I picked this one up, and got something that was not exactly what I expected. The "service" described was more of a guerrilla position, where these people fought the war in their own back yard, keeping an eye on Confederate activity in their North Carolina mountain home area. But it was still very compelling. It required great conviction on the part of both husband and wife to stand up for what they believed in, against the equal conviction of neighbors and in some cases family. And the two of them were apparently both just fascinating people. I found the ending chapter, on the late life of Keith Blalock, particularly interesting. So I'm not sure if this forwarded my research or not, but it was well worth reading.
Monday, July 23, 2007
one more book report!
I hope to get out two posts today. This one because I really need to get my book stack cleared out and shelved, and another one with a more varied topic. I suspect my rate of finishing books will slow down considerably—from now until whenever we move, I've given up the "system" and will be focusing on finishing all the books I've been working my way through, and burning through my nonfiction TBR shelves as fast as I can. Among other reasons, it's a lot less messy that way; I can keep my shelves looking much neater.
These are all series installments. Starting with:
Rex Stout, The Silent Speaker. A nice outing for Archie and Nero, containing a couple of women characters who were more than just foils for Archie's wit. Not sure if the plot itself was much of a page-turner, but as always it was a fun ride.
James Howe, Howliday Inn. I'd read the first book, Bunnicula (yes, these are children's books!) a while back, and it was solid. The sequel, Howliday Inn, has literally been on my TBR shelf since we lived in North Carolina. Have to say, it wasn't worth the shipping cost to move it twice! Thin plot, threadbare devices, too hurried denouement. Not a keeper.
Anne Perry, Seven Dials. I love the Thomas and Charlotte Pitt books. I tried to read the first of the William Monk series and couldn't get interested in it, and haven't checked out the new World War I era series, although I may at some point. And I'm finding it unfortunate that my favorite Perry series seems to be the author's least favorite. Also, REALLY not interested in the whole mega-conspiracy plot. But the character development moves forward (at least some of it), and I do enjoy the writing, so I'll be sticking with the series as long as it lasts.
Janette Oke, Love's Unending Legacy. I really like the first part of this series. Love Comes Softly is a classic, and the characters are rich and interesting. Love's Unending Legacy reads like the end of the series, and IMO should have been. The three books that come after it just lack the poignancy, the simplicity, the homey "let's put up our feet and shoot the breeze" kind of feel that make the first several books such good reads. This one seems a bit rushed, but I suspect it's the one where the author really ran into the "I have too many characters to try and fit in" problem that eventually led her to end the series altogether. As far as I'm concerned, it ends here!
Finally, Cynthia Peale, Murder at Bertram's Bower. This is a relatively new series (well, new to me—no telling how many there are now that I've finally gotten through the second book!)—set in Victorian Boston. The setting drew me, the characters keep me. Very much like Perry's Pitt novels, these are wonderful portraits of proper Victorians reaching out of their sheltered existence, and the effect that has on their lives.
These are all series installments. Starting with:
Rex Stout, The Silent Speaker. A nice outing for Archie and Nero, containing a couple of women characters who were more than just foils for Archie's wit. Not sure if the plot itself was much of a page-turner, but as always it was a fun ride.
James Howe, Howliday Inn. I'd read the first book, Bunnicula (yes, these are children's books!) a while back, and it was solid. The sequel, Howliday Inn, has literally been on my TBR shelf since we lived in North Carolina. Have to say, it wasn't worth the shipping cost to move it twice! Thin plot, threadbare devices, too hurried denouement. Not a keeper.
Anne Perry, Seven Dials. I love the Thomas and Charlotte Pitt books. I tried to read the first of the William Monk series and couldn't get interested in it, and haven't checked out the new World War I era series, although I may at some point. And I'm finding it unfortunate that my favorite Perry series seems to be the author's least favorite. Also, REALLY not interested in the whole mega-conspiracy plot. But the character development moves forward (at least some of it), and I do enjoy the writing, so I'll be sticking with the series as long as it lasts.
Janette Oke, Love's Unending Legacy. I really like the first part of this series. Love Comes Softly is a classic, and the characters are rich and interesting. Love's Unending Legacy reads like the end of the series, and IMO should have been. The three books that come after it just lack the poignancy, the simplicity, the homey "let's put up our feet and shoot the breeze" kind of feel that make the first several books such good reads. This one seems a bit rushed, but I suspect it's the one where the author really ran into the "I have too many characters to try and fit in" problem that eventually led her to end the series altogether. As far as I'm concerned, it ends here!
Finally, Cynthia Peale, Murder at Bertram's Bower. This is a relatively new series (well, new to me—no telling how many there are now that I've finally gotten through the second book!)—set in Victorian Boston. The setting drew me, the characters keep me. Very much like Perry's Pitt novels, these are wonderful portraits of proper Victorians reaching out of their sheltered existence, and the effect that has on their lives.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
back after a brief hiatus!
Sorry about the posting gap—it's been a busy couple of weeks. Among other things, I've finished a huge number of books. 17, to be exact! Here's a quick round-up of the entries on the Westerns category:
By Walter Van Tilburg Clark, The Ox-Bow Incident. I've been looking forward to seeing the movie, starring Harry Morgan, but wanted to read the book first. And, man, was it dark. Literally. There's a whole section where the posse stumbles around in the dark and the fog. And, frankly, depressing. I mean, we all know that the mob instinct exists, and that people in the heat of the moment can be led to do things that look pretty bad in the light of day ... but to be confronted so starkly with the gap between what should have happened and what did—well, let's just say I don't feel the need to descend to those depths again. Not a keeper, this one ... and I'm not so sure I want to see the movie.
On to more pleasant studies: my most recent forays into the world of Mr. L'Amour. I finished The Tall Stranger, which seemed very familiar. I suspect he'd written a short story with a similar plot and then expanded it into a book. Still entertaining, though. Also Shalako, which was a standoff attrition battle one ... very similar to another book of his (or possibly, again, a short story) that I'd read. Flint, however, was like nothing I had read before. L'Amour left his comfort zone a bit with a slightly different type of character who had lived a slightly different life, and played with some unusual themes. While this may not be my favorite L'Amour, I think it's certainly the most unique. And, finally, War Party, a collection of short stories.
I'll have updates soon on the other dozen books, on my recent weekend away in solitude, and a few other things. Although there may be a visitor-driven gap in posting again next week.
By Walter Van Tilburg Clark, The Ox-Bow Incident. I've been looking forward to seeing the movie, starring Harry Morgan, but wanted to read the book first. And, man, was it dark. Literally. There's a whole section where the posse stumbles around in the dark and the fog. And, frankly, depressing. I mean, we all know that the mob instinct exists, and that people in the heat of the moment can be led to do things that look pretty bad in the light of day ... but to be confronted so starkly with the gap between what should have happened and what did—well, let's just say I don't feel the need to descend to those depths again. Not a keeper, this one ... and I'm not so sure I want to see the movie.
On to more pleasant studies: my most recent forays into the world of Mr. L'Amour. I finished The Tall Stranger, which seemed very familiar. I suspect he'd written a short story with a similar plot and then expanded it into a book. Still entertaining, though. Also Shalako, which was a standoff attrition battle one ... very similar to another book of his (or possibly, again, a short story) that I'd read. Flint, however, was like nothing I had read before. L'Amour left his comfort zone a bit with a slightly different type of character who had lived a slightly different life, and played with some unusual themes. While this may not be my favorite L'Amour, I think it's certainly the most unique. And, finally, War Party, a collection of short stories.
I'll have updates soon on the other dozen books, on my recent weekend away in solitude, and a few other things. Although there may be a visitor-driven gap in posting again next week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)