Saturday, January 09, 2016
Quit while you're behind?
So at this point, I'm 11 books and 17 CDs behind -- a solid 6 months of reading and a full year of new music, since one of my CDs is from Christmas 2014. Given that this blog was primarily a way to write regularly, and I've done less than one review per month for the past half year, it seems foolish to worry about catching up when I'm this far behind. So, I think I'm going to pack it in. Adieux! Auf Wiedersehen! Au revoir! Sayonara!
Sunday, December 06, 2015
The Rithmatist - Brandon Sanderson
The Rithmatist (Brandon Sanderson, 2013)
In an alternate universe (The United Isles of America), the people have fought a mysterious supernatural horror for years. Each generation, an elite group, known as Rithmatists, are granted powers to fight these creatures. The school where Rithmatists are trained has become a target, and as more students go missing, fellow-students Joel and Melody are drawn deeper into the mystery.
Brandon Sanderson has created a rich story with winning characters and an intriguing system of magic. Fans of strategy games will enjoy Rithmatic dueling -- it practically begs to be turned into an online multiplayer iPad game -- and the excellent plot will have you flipping pages like a wild person, especially in the last third. Sanderson is a great storyteller, and he delivers a fresh and exciting story in The Rithmatist.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 strategy games
In an alternate universe (The United Isles of America), the people have fought a mysterious supernatural horror for years. Each generation, an elite group, known as Rithmatists, are granted powers to fight these creatures. The school where Rithmatists are trained has become a target, and as more students go missing, fellow-students Joel and Melody are drawn deeper into the mystery.Brandon Sanderson has created a rich story with winning characters and an intriguing system of magic. Fans of strategy games will enjoy Rithmatic dueling -- it practically begs to be turned into an online multiplayer iPad game -- and the excellent plot will have you flipping pages like a wild person, especially in the last third. Sanderson is a great storyteller, and he delivers a fresh and exciting story in The Rithmatist.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 strategy games
Monday, November 02, 2015
The Importance of Being Earnest - Oscar Wilde
The Importance of Being Earnest (Wilde, 1895)
For this one, I figured I would read everything in the Norton Critical Edition. Way to spoil a fun play... So this review will be in two parts: one for the actual play, and one for all the academic hay that was made out of it.
The play itself is hilarious. Wilde's farce (subtitled A Trivial Comedy for Serious People) features light-hearted wit, mistaken identities, playful rivalries, absurd obstacles, and an unlikely turn of events. I just spent about 15 minutes trying to summarize the plot, but what Wilde makes flow effortlessly and hilariously, I make into a clunky, plodding bore, so I won't even try. Just take my word for it -- if you have a couple hours and want a laugh, give it a read.
The critical essays, on the other hand, are completely without humor. It's almost like they didn't even read the play, and they rather developed some overly wordy thesis and then found the parts of the play that support the argument. We run the gamut of topics: the play reverses gender roles, the play is about strong women, the play undercuts the male romantic lead, the play undercuts Edwardian society, the play is a coded homosexual celebration, the play is a self-fulfilling prophecy about Wilde's incarceration, the play is better in the four-act version, the play is better in the three-act version... Granted, there are some very impressive arguments in the critical essays, but ultimately they have little to do with the play itself. This just confirms for me that I'm no longer a good English major. The scary thing is, I can see how one could get satisfaction out of crafting such an in-depth analysis, yet ultimately, it seems like trying to draw blood from a turnip. Just eat the turnip.
Arbitrary rating (play): 4 out of 5 light-hearted wits
Arbitrary rating (essays): 2 out of 5 academic hay bales
For this one, I figured I would read everything in the Norton Critical Edition. Way to spoil a fun play... So this review will be in two parts: one for the actual play, and one for all the academic hay that was made out of it.The play itself is hilarious. Wilde's farce (subtitled A Trivial Comedy for Serious People) features light-hearted wit, mistaken identities, playful rivalries, absurd obstacles, and an unlikely turn of events. I just spent about 15 minutes trying to summarize the plot, but what Wilde makes flow effortlessly and hilariously, I make into a clunky, plodding bore, so I won't even try. Just take my word for it -- if you have a couple hours and want a laugh, give it a read.
The critical essays, on the other hand, are completely without humor. It's almost like they didn't even read the play, and they rather developed some overly wordy thesis and then found the parts of the play that support the argument. We run the gamut of topics: the play reverses gender roles, the play is about strong women, the play undercuts the male romantic lead, the play undercuts Edwardian society, the play is a coded homosexual celebration, the play is a self-fulfilling prophecy about Wilde's incarceration, the play is better in the four-act version, the play is better in the three-act version... Granted, there are some very impressive arguments in the critical essays, but ultimately they have little to do with the play itself. This just confirms for me that I'm no longer a good English major. The scary thing is, I can see how one could get satisfaction out of crafting such an in-depth analysis, yet ultimately, it seems like trying to draw blood from a turnip. Just eat the turnip.
Arbitrary rating (play): 4 out of 5 light-hearted wits
Arbitrary rating (essays): 2 out of 5 academic hay bales
Sunday, October 25, 2015
The Man of Property - John Galsworthy
The Man of Property (Galsworthy, 1906)
I'm tempted to use the epithet "Nobel-prize-winning trash". Undeniably well-written, yet relentlessly depressing and somewhat dull, Galsworthy's first novel in what came to be known as the Forsyte Saga is your average adultery novel. You know the drill -- a beautiful woman is trapped in a loveless marriage with a stuffy middle-upper-class prude; she falls for the handsome young architect who is building her husband's new house, yet their love is crushed by the repressive social strictures. Blah, blah, blah...
I guess there are a few wrinkles that elevate it slightly above the soap opera realm. The portrait of the extended Forsyte family is masterfully executed, with the griping, gossiping siblings and in-laws painted to perfection. A side plot focuses on an estranged son reconciling with his father, and there are some good moments here. Even the affair itself is presented through a fascinating lens. If it weren't for the fact that their actions drive the narrative, Irene (the wife) and Philip (the architect) would be secondary, almost tertiary characters. The affair is seen almost solely through the viewpoint of Soames (the husband) and the extended Forsyte family, as a shadowy, uncertain, hinted-at possibility only discovered to be fact when it's too late. Indeed, there is only one scene that features Irene and Philip alone -- the crisis where they reveal their feelings for each other -- and even that scene is presented almost as if we are eavesdropping and unable to hear exactly what is being said. Galsworthy does a lot with a little, and perhaps that technical ability in prose is alone worthy of the many accolades he received.
However, there are plenty of cringe-worthy and reductive moments. At one point, Irene and Philip are literally described as "pale moths drawn to a flame" -- maybe this is the first usage of the cliche and I'm just judging it unfairly... Soames has a few humanizing moments, but for the most part he is a bloodless figurehead. His final act against Philip and Irene seems incongruous with his character. Maybe I'm just not in tune enough with the depths of human psychology that I'm sure Galsworthy is plumbing... Long story short, I didn't like it. Even months after reading it (I'm very far behind on the ol' review biz), I wish I had the time back.
Arbitrary rating: 1 out of 5 stuffy upper-middle-class prudes
I'm tempted to use the epithet "Nobel-prize-winning trash". Undeniably well-written, yet relentlessly depressing and somewhat dull, Galsworthy's first novel in what came to be known as the Forsyte Saga is your average adultery novel. You know the drill -- a beautiful woman is trapped in a loveless marriage with a stuffy middle-upper-class prude; she falls for the handsome young architect who is building her husband's new house, yet their love is crushed by the repressive social strictures. Blah, blah, blah...I guess there are a few wrinkles that elevate it slightly above the soap opera realm. The portrait of the extended Forsyte family is masterfully executed, with the griping, gossiping siblings and in-laws painted to perfection. A side plot focuses on an estranged son reconciling with his father, and there are some good moments here. Even the affair itself is presented through a fascinating lens. If it weren't for the fact that their actions drive the narrative, Irene (the wife) and Philip (the architect) would be secondary, almost tertiary characters. The affair is seen almost solely through the viewpoint of Soames (the husband) and the extended Forsyte family, as a shadowy, uncertain, hinted-at possibility only discovered to be fact when it's too late. Indeed, there is only one scene that features Irene and Philip alone -- the crisis where they reveal their feelings for each other -- and even that scene is presented almost as if we are eavesdropping and unable to hear exactly what is being said. Galsworthy does a lot with a little, and perhaps that technical ability in prose is alone worthy of the many accolades he received.
However, there are plenty of cringe-worthy and reductive moments. At one point, Irene and Philip are literally described as "pale moths drawn to a flame" -- maybe this is the first usage of the cliche and I'm just judging it unfairly... Soames has a few humanizing moments, but for the most part he is a bloodless figurehead. His final act against Philip and Irene seems incongruous with his character. Maybe I'm just not in tune enough with the depths of human psychology that I'm sure Galsworthy is plumbing... Long story short, I didn't like it. Even months after reading it (I'm very far behind on the ol' review biz), I wish I had the time back.
Arbitrary rating: 1 out of 5 stuffy upper-middle-class prudes
Sunday, July 26, 2015
The Great Deceiver, Vol. 1 - King Crimson
The Great Deceiver - Live 1973-1974, Vol. 1 (King Crimson, 2007)
Disc One
1. Walk On... No Pussyfooting - 0:49
2. Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part Two - 6:24
3. Lament - 4:39
4. Exiles - 8:57
5. Improv: A Voyage To The Centre Of The Cosmos - 15:03
6. Easy Money - 7:13
7. Improv: Providence - 10:19
8. Fracture - 11:14
9. Starless - 12:04
Disc Two
1. 21st Century Schizoid Man - 8:27
2. Walk Off From Providence - 1:21
3. Sharks' Lungs In Lemsip - 3:22
4. Lark's Tongues In Aspic, Part One - 7:50
5. Book Of Saturday - 3:03
6. Easy Money - 6:41
7. We'll Let You Know - 4:55
8. The Night Watch - 5:17
9. Improv: Tight Scrummy - 8:58
10. Peace: A Theme - 1:01
11. Cat Food - 4:36
12. Easy Money... - 2:20
13. Improv: ...It Is For You, But Not For Us - 9:12
Drummer Bill Bruford might have described this version of King Crimson best when he compared it to his former band, Yes (paraphrased): "In Yes, we would spend all this time arguing about what to play... In King Crimson, you were just supposed to know." Nowhere is that more evident than in these live recordings, which showcase intense interplay and improvisation that must have been breathtaking both to play and to witness.
The live versions of the studio songs are almost improvisations themselves, with constantly shifting arrangements, on-the-fly instrumentation changes, and unpredictable performances from all four band members. The observant might notice two and a half different versions of "Easy Money" on this set. The version on Disc One is terrifyingly stark -- just John Wetton's vocal with unsettling swells from Robert Fripp's guitar before it roars to life -- where the version on Disc Two is more of a boogie-down, feel-good reading. The partial version at the end highlights yet another unique verse/chorus variant before going completely left-field with the haunting, Mellotron-based improvisation titled "...It Is For You, But Not For Us", which leaves its parent song completely behind and never revisits it.
In Fripp's extensive liner notes, he admits that Wetton's bass guitar and Bruford's heavy drumming had taken over the band by the end. Indeed, their raw power defines Disc One and the first track of Disc Two, which comprise the entire next-to-last concert performance of this band. Wetton's bass in particular is a revelation. Dancing lightly over the melody in "Exiles", pounding propulsively in "Larks' Tongues Pt. 2" and "Fracture", mixing menace with swing in "Starless", or flying pell-mell through the "21st Century Schizoid Man" encore, Wetton leaves it all on the stage. For fans of progressive bass guitar (all five of us), this is a treasure trove.
I'll try not to let my bass love obscure my appreciation for the other musicians, though. David Cross on violin and Mellotron provides some truly outstanding performances, particularly on "Larks' Tongues Pt. 1", "Exiles", and "Book of Saturday". Hearing the early Crimson tunes "Cat Food" and "21st Century..." with Cross's violin, Wetton's bass, and Bruford's drumming is quite a treat. Speaking of Bruford's drumming... yeah, the man poured some serious passion into these performances. And of course, Fripp's unworldly tone and laser accuracy on guitar turns from blaring rock to introspective jazz finger-picking with ease.
But perhaps the main event here are the improvisations. These are not jams in the traditional sense, where drums and bass start vamping while lead instruments solo. These are attempts at spontaneous composition, live on stage, with no prior discussion, plan, or roadmap. To be fair, it usually falls into one of two categories: spacey atmospheric or aggressively violent. But sometimes, the aggressively violent morphs into funk, or the atmospheric morphs into melodic ballad. And sometimes, it's all out the window, like on "Tight Scrummy", where Bruford lays down an unabashedly Latin rhythm, complete with wood block and tuned percussion, which the other musicians successively attempt to derail. You never know what you're going to get, and that's what makes it exciting.
Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 spontaneous compositions
Disc One1. Walk On... No Pussyfooting - 0:49
2. Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part Two - 6:24
3. Lament - 4:39
4. Exiles - 8:57
5. Improv: A Voyage To The Centre Of The Cosmos - 15:03
6. Easy Money - 7:13
7. Improv: Providence - 10:19
8. Fracture - 11:14
9. Starless - 12:04
Disc Two
1. 21st Century Schizoid Man - 8:27
2. Walk Off From Providence - 1:21
3. Sharks' Lungs In Lemsip - 3:22
4. Lark's Tongues In Aspic, Part One - 7:50
5. Book Of Saturday - 3:03
6. Easy Money - 6:41
7. We'll Let You Know - 4:55
8. The Night Watch - 5:17
9. Improv: Tight Scrummy - 8:58
10. Peace: A Theme - 1:01
11. Cat Food - 4:36
12. Easy Money... - 2:20
13. Improv: ...It Is For You, But Not For Us - 9:12
Drummer Bill Bruford might have described this version of King Crimson best when he compared it to his former band, Yes (paraphrased): "In Yes, we would spend all this time arguing about what to play... In King Crimson, you were just supposed to know." Nowhere is that more evident than in these live recordings, which showcase intense interplay and improvisation that must have been breathtaking both to play and to witness.
The live versions of the studio songs are almost improvisations themselves, with constantly shifting arrangements, on-the-fly instrumentation changes, and unpredictable performances from all four band members. The observant might notice two and a half different versions of "Easy Money" on this set. The version on Disc One is terrifyingly stark -- just John Wetton's vocal with unsettling swells from Robert Fripp's guitar before it roars to life -- where the version on Disc Two is more of a boogie-down, feel-good reading. The partial version at the end highlights yet another unique verse/chorus variant before going completely left-field with the haunting, Mellotron-based improvisation titled "...It Is For You, But Not For Us", which leaves its parent song completely behind and never revisits it.
In Fripp's extensive liner notes, he admits that Wetton's bass guitar and Bruford's heavy drumming had taken over the band by the end. Indeed, their raw power defines Disc One and the first track of Disc Two, which comprise the entire next-to-last concert performance of this band. Wetton's bass in particular is a revelation. Dancing lightly over the melody in "Exiles", pounding propulsively in "Larks' Tongues Pt. 2" and "Fracture", mixing menace with swing in "Starless", or flying pell-mell through the "21st Century Schizoid Man" encore, Wetton leaves it all on the stage. For fans of progressive bass guitar (all five of us), this is a treasure trove.
I'll try not to let my bass love obscure my appreciation for the other musicians, though. David Cross on violin and Mellotron provides some truly outstanding performances, particularly on "Larks' Tongues Pt. 1", "Exiles", and "Book of Saturday". Hearing the early Crimson tunes "Cat Food" and "21st Century..." with Cross's violin, Wetton's bass, and Bruford's drumming is quite a treat. Speaking of Bruford's drumming... yeah, the man poured some serious passion into these performances. And of course, Fripp's unworldly tone and laser accuracy on guitar turns from blaring rock to introspective jazz finger-picking with ease.
But perhaps the main event here are the improvisations. These are not jams in the traditional sense, where drums and bass start vamping while lead instruments solo. These are attempts at spontaneous composition, live on stage, with no prior discussion, plan, or roadmap. To be fair, it usually falls into one of two categories: spacey atmospheric or aggressively violent. But sometimes, the aggressively violent morphs into funk, or the atmospheric morphs into melodic ballad. And sometimes, it's all out the window, like on "Tight Scrummy", where Bruford lays down an unabashedly Latin rhythm, complete with wood block and tuned percussion, which the other musicians successively attempt to derail. You never know what you're going to get, and that's what makes it exciting.
Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 spontaneous compositions
Monday, June 15, 2015
The Great Leap - Phideaux
The Great Leap (Phideaux, 2006)
1. Wake Up - 4:03
2. You and Me Against a World of Pain - 5:35
3. The Waiting - 3:33
4. Abducted - 6:10
5. Rainboy - 6:15
6. I Was Thinking - 4:24
7. Long and Lonely Way - 4:18
8. They Hunt You Down - 3:54
9. Tannis Root - 4:52
10. One Star - 5:14
11. Last - 5:50
A rock song cycle dealing with authoritarianism and apocalypse, The Great Leap paves the way for the band's more ambitious progressive rock opuses Doomsday Afternoon, Number Seven, and Snowtorch.
Subtitled "A Celebration of Lemmings" and epigraphed with Revelations 4:1, The Great Leap is suitably dark, moody, ornate, and dramatic. Crunchy electric guitars and basses interweave with vintage Hammond organ, Minimoog, and Fender Rhodes piano. The drumming is spot-on, and guest instrumentalists on violin, cello, flute, trumpet, trombone, and French horn add a feast of musical color to the turbulent proceedings. Bandleader Phideaux Xavier handles almost all of the lead vocals with his buoyant rasp, while the ladies contribute essential background vocals and countermelodies.
The songs paint surreal pictures, fitted perfectly by the Dali-inspired album art. The concept of the album is more of a mood than a story -- a mood of menace, paranoia, evil forces, and dogged resistance. The song structures are simple and effective, with some unexpected twists. Highlights include the bracing "Wake Up", the stately "Rainboy", the icy folk of "I Was Thinking", the driving rocker "Long and Lonely Way", and the haunting "Last". Though I prefer the trio of albums I mentioned above, The Great Leap is quite delectable in its own right.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 feasts of musical color
1. Wake Up - 4:032. You and Me Against a World of Pain - 5:35
3. The Waiting - 3:33
4. Abducted - 6:10
5. Rainboy - 6:15
6. I Was Thinking - 4:24
7. Long and Lonely Way - 4:18
8. They Hunt You Down - 3:54
9. Tannis Root - 4:52
10. One Star - 5:14
11. Last - 5:50
A rock song cycle dealing with authoritarianism and apocalypse, The Great Leap paves the way for the band's more ambitious progressive rock opuses Doomsday Afternoon, Number Seven, and Snowtorch.
Subtitled "A Celebration of Lemmings" and epigraphed with Revelations 4:1, The Great Leap is suitably dark, moody, ornate, and dramatic. Crunchy electric guitars and basses interweave with vintage Hammond organ, Minimoog, and Fender Rhodes piano. The drumming is spot-on, and guest instrumentalists on violin, cello, flute, trumpet, trombone, and French horn add a feast of musical color to the turbulent proceedings. Bandleader Phideaux Xavier handles almost all of the lead vocals with his buoyant rasp, while the ladies contribute essential background vocals and countermelodies.
The songs paint surreal pictures, fitted perfectly by the Dali-inspired album art. The concept of the album is more of a mood than a story -- a mood of menace, paranoia, evil forces, and dogged resistance. The song structures are simple and effective, with some unexpected twists. Highlights include the bracing "Wake Up", the stately "Rainboy", the icy folk of "I Was Thinking", the driving rocker "Long and Lonely Way", and the haunting "Last". Though I prefer the trio of albums I mentioned above, The Great Leap is quite delectable in its own right.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 feasts of musical color
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Joy of a Toy - Kevin Ayers
Joy Of A Toy (Kevin Ayers, 1969)
1. Joy Of A Toy Continued - 2:54
2. Town Feeling - 4:51
3. The Clarietta Rag - 3:21
4. Girl On A Swing - 2:49
5. Song For Insane Times - 4:00
6. Stop This Train (Again Doing It) - 6:05
7. Eleanor's Cake (Which Ate Her) - 2:53
8. The Lady Rachel - 5:17
9. Oleh Oleh Bandu Bandong - 5:35
10. All This Crazy Gift Of Time - 3:57
------------
11. Religious Experience (Singing a Song in the Morning), Take 9 - 4:46
12. The Lady Rachel (Extended Mix) - 6:42
13. Soon Soon Soon - 3:23
14. Religious Experience (Singing a Song in the Morning), Take 103 - 2:50
15. The Lady Rachel (Single Version) - 4:51
16. Singing a Song in the Morning - 2:52
A whimsical avant-pop concoction, Joy Of A Toy finds Kevin Ayers's considerable songwriting talent in full flower. Eclectic and eccentric, the album includes music hall songs, jazz-tinged psychedelia, minimalist experiments, folk epics, marching band parades, and dreamy lullabies.
Hints of Ayers's musical personality can be heard on the first Soft Machine album, but he really bursts out here. The jaunty "Clarietta Rag" is miles away from the uber-hip Soft Machine, as is the delicate "Eleanor's Cake" with its tender piano swells, calming flute, and close vocal harmonies. There are a few connections: "Stop This Train (Again Doing It)" merges the repetitive minimalism of Soft Machine's "We Did It Again" with a Dylanesque allegory (plus a fantastic organ solo from Soft Machine's Mike Ratledge). "Song For Insane Times", which features all of Soft Machine as the backing band, is classic Canterbury prog, complete with clever lyrics, jazzy instrumentation, and a fun 13/8 riff. David Bedford's lush, romantic orchestrations elevate "Town Feeling" and the title instrumental, while evoking mild disturbance and unease during "The Lady Rachel" and "Oleh Oleh Bandu Bandong" (based on a Malay folk song). The acoustic-guitar-with-harmonica closer "All This Crazy Gift Of Time" owes a lot to Bob Dylan again, but in a much more melodic mode.
My favorite song comes from the bonus tracks. "Religious Experience (Singing a Song in the Morning)" is the song that got me into Ayers. A simple pop song with jangly guitars, bouncy bass, fun drums, and feel-good vocal harmonies, it just repeats the same four vocal lines over and over, with instrumental breaks to punctuate the mantra. He takes a very limiting musical idea and infuses it with joy. It's truly representative of the album as a whole. You probably won't find much revolutionary or impressive here, just a bunch of people enjoying music.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 whimsical avant-pop concoctions
1. Joy Of A Toy Continued - 2:542. Town Feeling - 4:51
3. The Clarietta Rag - 3:21
4. Girl On A Swing - 2:49
5. Song For Insane Times - 4:00
6. Stop This Train (Again Doing It) - 6:05
7. Eleanor's Cake (Which Ate Her) - 2:53
8. The Lady Rachel - 5:17
9. Oleh Oleh Bandu Bandong - 5:35
10. All This Crazy Gift Of Time - 3:57
------------
11. Religious Experience (Singing a Song in the Morning), Take 9 - 4:46
12. The Lady Rachel (Extended Mix) - 6:42
13. Soon Soon Soon - 3:23
14. Religious Experience (Singing a Song in the Morning), Take 103 - 2:50
15. The Lady Rachel (Single Version) - 4:51
16. Singing a Song in the Morning - 2:52
A whimsical avant-pop concoction, Joy Of A Toy finds Kevin Ayers's considerable songwriting talent in full flower. Eclectic and eccentric, the album includes music hall songs, jazz-tinged psychedelia, minimalist experiments, folk epics, marching band parades, and dreamy lullabies.
Hints of Ayers's musical personality can be heard on the first Soft Machine album, but he really bursts out here. The jaunty "Clarietta Rag" is miles away from the uber-hip Soft Machine, as is the delicate "Eleanor's Cake" with its tender piano swells, calming flute, and close vocal harmonies. There are a few connections: "Stop This Train (Again Doing It)" merges the repetitive minimalism of Soft Machine's "We Did It Again" with a Dylanesque allegory (plus a fantastic organ solo from Soft Machine's Mike Ratledge). "Song For Insane Times", which features all of Soft Machine as the backing band, is classic Canterbury prog, complete with clever lyrics, jazzy instrumentation, and a fun 13/8 riff. David Bedford's lush, romantic orchestrations elevate "Town Feeling" and the title instrumental, while evoking mild disturbance and unease during "The Lady Rachel" and "Oleh Oleh Bandu Bandong" (based on a Malay folk song). The acoustic-guitar-with-harmonica closer "All This Crazy Gift Of Time" owes a lot to Bob Dylan again, but in a much more melodic mode.
My favorite song comes from the bonus tracks. "Religious Experience (Singing a Song in the Morning)" is the song that got me into Ayers. A simple pop song with jangly guitars, bouncy bass, fun drums, and feel-good vocal harmonies, it just repeats the same four vocal lines over and over, with instrumental breaks to punctuate the mantra. He takes a very limiting musical idea and infuses it with joy. It's truly representative of the album as a whole. You probably won't find much revolutionary or impressive here, just a bunch of people enjoying music.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 whimsical avant-pop concoctions
Momentum - Neal Morse
Momentum (Neal Morse, 2012)
1. Momentum - 6:26
2. Thoughts Part 5 - 7:51
3. Smoke And Mirrors - 4:38
4. Weathering Sky - 4:16
5. Freak - 4:31
6. World Without End - 33:39
i. Introduction
ii. Never Pass Away
iii. Losing Your Soul
iv. The Mystery
v. Some Kind of Yesterday
vi. Never Pass Away (Reprise)
Neal Morse's seventh progressive rock solo album is one of his most enjoyable opuses. Morse merges his melodic pop songcraft with virtuoso performances, ambitious arrangements, and progressive quirkiness.
First, huge props need to go to the rhythm section. Drummer extraordinaire Mike Portnoy and fantastic bassist Randy George really drive these songs, particularly the song cycle "World Without End". Masters of mood and texture, yet monster performers, these two employ their muscular chops to excellent effect throughout. On this solid foundation, Morse's keyboard and guitar work shine. Several guest musicians contribute lead guitar, saxophone, violin, and clarinet. And of course, many different people provide sunny vocal harmonies.
Because the album doesn't have an overarching concept, the music has plenty of room to breathe. I'll probably have to turn in my proggie card for this, but I particularly like the three short songs. "Smoke and Mirrors" is a beautiful acoustic guitar ballad with a stately violin break; "Weathering Sky"'s pulsing wah-meets-didgeridoo guitar drone drives a melodic rocker; and the string-drenched pop of "Freak" is just plain catchy. These short songs make a quick impact and provide a nice break between the more ambitious numbers.
Those ambitious numbers are certainly worth the time, though. The opening title track is trademark Morse -- a driving major key rock song that practically begs for hand-claps, with bouncy verses, big choruses, a jaw-dropping instrumental break, and The Big Finish, all packed into a tidy six and a half minutes. "Thoughts Part 5" continues the "Thoughts" series from Neal's days in Spock's Beard. With quirky arrangements, madrigal singing, and a sardonic, self-deprecating vocal from a guy who let his mind wander in the middle of a conversation, it fits right in.
"World Without End" examines the fleeting nature of this life and the promise of a life to come. Told from the perspective of a person who abandons their faith to pursue their own path, it paints a picture of the empty lure of the world and the hope of God's redeeming love. The music twists and turns with the story, yet the flow is very natural, and the individual songs function as movements of a greater whole. The entire musical journey makes for one of Morse's better long-form compositions.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 wah-meets-didgeridoo guitar drones
1. Momentum - 6:262. Thoughts Part 5 - 7:51
3. Smoke And Mirrors - 4:38
4. Weathering Sky - 4:16
5. Freak - 4:31
6. World Without End - 33:39
i. Introduction
ii. Never Pass Away
iii. Losing Your Soul
iv. The Mystery
v. Some Kind of Yesterday
vi. Never Pass Away (Reprise)
Neal Morse's seventh progressive rock solo album is one of his most enjoyable opuses. Morse merges his melodic pop songcraft with virtuoso performances, ambitious arrangements, and progressive quirkiness.
First, huge props need to go to the rhythm section. Drummer extraordinaire Mike Portnoy and fantastic bassist Randy George really drive these songs, particularly the song cycle "World Without End". Masters of mood and texture, yet monster performers, these two employ their muscular chops to excellent effect throughout. On this solid foundation, Morse's keyboard and guitar work shine. Several guest musicians contribute lead guitar, saxophone, violin, and clarinet. And of course, many different people provide sunny vocal harmonies.
Because the album doesn't have an overarching concept, the music has plenty of room to breathe. I'll probably have to turn in my proggie card for this, but I particularly like the three short songs. "Smoke and Mirrors" is a beautiful acoustic guitar ballad with a stately violin break; "Weathering Sky"'s pulsing wah-meets-didgeridoo guitar drone drives a melodic rocker; and the string-drenched pop of "Freak" is just plain catchy. These short songs make a quick impact and provide a nice break between the more ambitious numbers.
Those ambitious numbers are certainly worth the time, though. The opening title track is trademark Morse -- a driving major key rock song that practically begs for hand-claps, with bouncy verses, big choruses, a jaw-dropping instrumental break, and The Big Finish, all packed into a tidy six and a half minutes. "Thoughts Part 5" continues the "Thoughts" series from Neal's days in Spock's Beard. With quirky arrangements, madrigal singing, and a sardonic, self-deprecating vocal from a guy who let his mind wander in the middle of a conversation, it fits right in.
"World Without End" examines the fleeting nature of this life and the promise of a life to come. Told from the perspective of a person who abandons their faith to pursue their own path, it paints a picture of the empty lure of the world and the hope of God's redeeming love. The music twists and turns with the story, yet the flow is very natural, and the individual songs function as movements of a greater whole. The entire musical journey makes for one of Morse's better long-form compositions.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 wah-meets-didgeridoo guitar drones
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Glass Harp
Glass Harp (1970)

1. Can You See Me? - 6:26
2. Children's Fantasy - 4:12
3. Changes (In The Heart of My Own True Love) - 5:55
4. Village Queen - 4:00
5. Black Horse - 2:51
6. Southbound - 3:54
7. Whatever Life Demands - 6:29
8. Look in the Sky - 8:13
9. Garden - 4:19
10. On Our Own - 2:37
The debut album by the band that launched Phil Keaggy, Glass Harp showcases a band that is ambitious, eclectic, and undeniably talented. Though uneven, their songs succeed more often than not.
A high level of production is evident throughout. Several songs include orchestrations, and there are additional uncredited instrumentalists here and there, like the unknown Hammond organ player on "Children's Fantasy". Adventurous and downright progressive song structures crop up in several instances, like the dramatic "Changes", which includes an excellent flute solo from bassist Dan Pecchio and a free-time guitar cadenza from Phil Keaggy. In the stately, atmospheric opener "Can You See Me?", Keaggy's vocals blaze about as brightly as his guitar work, and the anthemic "Look in the Sky" includes a few different movements while making room for exploratory jamming. Other successful but less progressive rockers include "Whatever Life Demands", "Children's Fantasy", and "Garden", where the band's Beatlesque harmonies comes to the fore.
The ballads "Black Horse", "Southbound", and "On Our Own" are solid and enjoyable, but not as compelling as the other songs. The only misstep for me is "Village Queen", an attempt at some sort of humorous honky-tonk boogie. The guitar work is still pretty decent, but the character of the song just doesn't fit with everything else, and the lyrics aren't witty enough to justify it. On the whole, though, this album has more good songs than you can shake a stick at, and the level of musicianship alone is worth checking out.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 blazing vocals

1. Can You See Me? - 6:26
2. Children's Fantasy - 4:12
3. Changes (In The Heart of My Own True Love) - 5:55
4. Village Queen - 4:00
5. Black Horse - 2:51
6. Southbound - 3:54
7. Whatever Life Demands - 6:29
8. Look in the Sky - 8:13
9. Garden - 4:19
10. On Our Own - 2:37
The debut album by the band that launched Phil Keaggy, Glass Harp showcases a band that is ambitious, eclectic, and undeniably talented. Though uneven, their songs succeed more often than not.
A high level of production is evident throughout. Several songs include orchestrations, and there are additional uncredited instrumentalists here and there, like the unknown Hammond organ player on "Children's Fantasy". Adventurous and downright progressive song structures crop up in several instances, like the dramatic "Changes", which includes an excellent flute solo from bassist Dan Pecchio and a free-time guitar cadenza from Phil Keaggy. In the stately, atmospheric opener "Can You See Me?", Keaggy's vocals blaze about as brightly as his guitar work, and the anthemic "Look in the Sky" includes a few different movements while making room for exploratory jamming. Other successful but less progressive rockers include "Whatever Life Demands", "Children's Fantasy", and "Garden", where the band's Beatlesque harmonies comes to the fore.
The ballads "Black Horse", "Southbound", and "On Our Own" are solid and enjoyable, but not as compelling as the other songs. The only misstep for me is "Village Queen", an attempt at some sort of humorous honky-tonk boogie. The guitar work is still pretty decent, but the character of the song just doesn't fit with everything else, and the lyrics aren't witty enough to justify it. On the whole, though, this album has more good songs than you can shake a stick at, and the level of musicianship alone is worth checking out.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 blazing vocals
Monday, May 18, 2015
Roxana - Daniel Defoe
Roxana: The Fortunate Mistress (Defoe, 1724)
Defoe's final novel might be his best, yet it is his most frustrating. Often lumped together with Moll Flanders, I found Roxana to be an entirely different book. Nowhere else does Defoe's uneasy tension between worldly success and moral justice take such a striking center stage, and nowhere else does his subtle realist artistry find a better showcase.
Roxana starts life as a beloved daughter of a wealthy family -- the polar opposite of Moll Flanders, the abandoned child of a convicted felon. As a young, beautiful girl, Roxana makes her fatal mistake by marrying, in her words, "a fool". Her handsome yet vapid husband squanders all their wealth and then abandons her and their five children. Thrust suddenly into desperate circumstances, Roxana tricks her husband's relatives into taking the children and then prepares to eek out an existence through whatever work she can get, which isn't much. The horror of poverty leads her into the life of a kept woman, mistress to rich merchants, noblemen, even royalty at one point, which she turns into vast personal wealth. Finally "settling down" in her fifties and marrying for the trifecta of love, money, and social status, her happiness is jeopardized by her efforts to atone for her past.
Defoe doesn't seem to know what to do with Roxana. He obviously admires her practicality, worldly wisdom, ambition, and economic savvy, because he turns everything she does into gold. Unlike Moll, whose luck fluctuates at the drop of a hat, Roxana really doesn't suffer many setbacks after her initial abandonment. She is, indeed, "The Fortunate Mistress". Though she admonishes throughout that her case is extraordinary, it's tough not to see the narrative as an approval of her choices, rather than a cautionary tale.
Yet Defoe's realism includes several subtle (and some shocking) incidents that reveal Roxana's own internal discord. She rejects honorable proposals and even corrupts her maid's chastity to reinforce her own picture of herself as a lost woman. Even in her happiest times, she upbraids herself, and when she is in a position to help her grown children, she does it clandestinely, ashamed to let her children know how she got her money. This shame results in some of the tensest scenes in literature, and ultimately in a horrible tragedy that is referenced but never reached: the book just ends abruptly, almost as if Roxana/Defoe could not continue the narration.
That bizarre ending is what makes the book frustrating. I can't help but wish Defoe had brought the book to a real conclusion, but it seems he just couldn't figure out how to do it. Yet he provides enough information for us to piece things together. If this had been written in the early 1900s, I can't help but think it would have fit right in with the literary experiments of the Moderns like Joyce, Woolf, and Faulkner. Not something you would expect from one of the earliest examples of the novel.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 vapid husbands
Defoe's final novel might be his best, yet it is his most frustrating. Often lumped together with Moll Flanders, I found Roxana to be an entirely different book. Nowhere else does Defoe's uneasy tension between worldly success and moral justice take such a striking center stage, and nowhere else does his subtle realist artistry find a better showcase.Roxana starts life as a beloved daughter of a wealthy family -- the polar opposite of Moll Flanders, the abandoned child of a convicted felon. As a young, beautiful girl, Roxana makes her fatal mistake by marrying, in her words, "a fool". Her handsome yet vapid husband squanders all their wealth and then abandons her and their five children. Thrust suddenly into desperate circumstances, Roxana tricks her husband's relatives into taking the children and then prepares to eek out an existence through whatever work she can get, which isn't much. The horror of poverty leads her into the life of a kept woman, mistress to rich merchants, noblemen, even royalty at one point, which she turns into vast personal wealth. Finally "settling down" in her fifties and marrying for the trifecta of love, money, and social status, her happiness is jeopardized by her efforts to atone for her past.
Defoe doesn't seem to know what to do with Roxana. He obviously admires her practicality, worldly wisdom, ambition, and economic savvy, because he turns everything she does into gold. Unlike Moll, whose luck fluctuates at the drop of a hat, Roxana really doesn't suffer many setbacks after her initial abandonment. She is, indeed, "The Fortunate Mistress". Though she admonishes throughout that her case is extraordinary, it's tough not to see the narrative as an approval of her choices, rather than a cautionary tale.
Yet Defoe's realism includes several subtle (and some shocking) incidents that reveal Roxana's own internal discord. She rejects honorable proposals and even corrupts her maid's chastity to reinforce her own picture of herself as a lost woman. Even in her happiest times, she upbraids herself, and when she is in a position to help her grown children, she does it clandestinely, ashamed to let her children know how she got her money. This shame results in some of the tensest scenes in literature, and ultimately in a horrible tragedy that is referenced but never reached: the book just ends abruptly, almost as if Roxana/Defoe could not continue the narration.
That bizarre ending is what makes the book frustrating. I can't help but wish Defoe had brought the book to a real conclusion, but it seems he just couldn't figure out how to do it. Yet he provides enough information for us to piece things together. If this had been written in the early 1900s, I can't help but think it would have fit right in with the literary experiments of the Moderns like Joyce, Woolf, and Faulkner. Not something you would expect from one of the earliest examples of the novel.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 vapid husbands
Saturday, May 16, 2015
A Journal of the Plague Year - Daniel Defoe
A Journal of the Plague Year (Defoe, 1722)
Forget about The Stand -- Defoe's account of the bubonic plague in London is frightening and true. Though not an eyewitness account, since Defoe would have been five years old at the time, it is still largely based on fact, and perhaps to some degree on the diary of one of Defoe's uncles, who actually was in London during the plague. Defoe's sweeping journalistic picture of a city in crisis is both haunting and mesmerizing.
Told from the point of view of a London merchant, the book is a collection of sketches, facts, documents, and statistics that vividly paint the scene of desolation and despair. Locked and abandoned houses, doomed families, manic displays in the streets, pseudo-religious hysteria, mass burial grounds, persevering physicians, stoic public servants, desperate escapees, and the nightly rounds of the dead cart all paint a chilling picture of a suffering city.
In a particularly moving scene, the narrator walks about the abandoned docks of the Thames and meets a boatman whose wife and children have been infected. We see the man leave food and money on a dock, and watch hopelessly as his wife and oldest son crawl out of his house to get it after he is a safe distance away. Banished from his family, his heart is broken at their plight, and he is unable to come near them, but at the same time he refuses to abandon them. We never learn what happens to them, but it is a picture of steadfast love in the midst of tragedy.
With stark and methodical realism, Defoe tries to portray as much of the turbulent time as he can, and he does a very good job. This is a book that will get you thinking.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 desperate escapees
Forget about The Stand -- Defoe's account of the bubonic plague in London is frightening and true. Though not an eyewitness account, since Defoe would have been five years old at the time, it is still largely based on fact, and perhaps to some degree on the diary of one of Defoe's uncles, who actually was in London during the plague. Defoe's sweeping journalistic picture of a city in crisis is both haunting and mesmerizing.Told from the point of view of a London merchant, the book is a collection of sketches, facts, documents, and statistics that vividly paint the scene of desolation and despair. Locked and abandoned houses, doomed families, manic displays in the streets, pseudo-religious hysteria, mass burial grounds, persevering physicians, stoic public servants, desperate escapees, and the nightly rounds of the dead cart all paint a chilling picture of a suffering city.
In a particularly moving scene, the narrator walks about the abandoned docks of the Thames and meets a boatman whose wife and children have been infected. We see the man leave food and money on a dock, and watch hopelessly as his wife and oldest son crawl out of his house to get it after he is a safe distance away. Banished from his family, his heart is broken at their plight, and he is unable to come near them, but at the same time he refuses to abandon them. We never learn what happens to them, but it is a picture of steadfast love in the midst of tragedy.
With stark and methodical realism, Defoe tries to portray as much of the turbulent time as he can, and he does a very good job. This is a book that will get you thinking.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 desperate escapees
Friday, May 15, 2015
Captain Singleton - Daniel Defoe
The Life, Adventures, and Pyracies of the Famous Captain Singleton (Defoe, 1720)
Like its predecessor Robinson Crusoe, Defoe's Captain Singleton is about survival in an exotic land. But widening his scope, Defoe takes his narrator across Africa and through all the major oceans, rather than trapping him on an island. He also introduces a moral conflict of interest that he would explore through the rest of his fiction.
The main character, a lawless youth who joins a mutiny and is marooned with the other plotters on Madagascar, turns out to be clever and resourceful as the men try to survive in a strange land and get back to Europe. Together they trek across Africa to the Gold Coast, braving jungles, deserts, wild animals, and those infamous natives. Like his predecessor Crusoe, Singleton acquires a man Friday, this time in the person of an African prince who, after the Europeans cure him of his gunshot wounds, pledges allegiance and takes along about 40 of his subjects on the transcontinental hike to serve the white masters. At the end of their risky adventure, they pan huge amounts of gold from the west African rivers and go home rich.
Quickly spending his wealth on dissolute living in England, Singleton turns pirate and terrorizes the Caribbean, South America, the east African coast, and Indonesia. His piracy is largely an economic venture, rather than a violent outburst against society, due in no small part to the intervention of William the Quaker, a surgeon they "force" on board (though he is certainly willing) who always keeps their focus on easy monetary gain and away from unnecessary killing. The tension between William's obvious relish for ill-gotten gain and his underlying morality form the most interesting part of the book, and his sagacity preserves Singleton from many a misadventure and finally brings to him a reputable end.
Essentially two different books in one, Captain Singleton is disjointed and a bit unfocused. It is certainly crammed full of incidents, and Defoe's interest in economy, realism, and travel find full vent in this tale. While Robinson Crusoe is morally straightforward, Captain Singleton begins the string of narratives where Defoe's fascination with mercantile success through sinful or criminal means conflicts with his (or perhaps just his readers') desire for moral justice. His finest works in this vein are Moll Flanders and Roxana, but Captain Singleton provides an early outline for the conflict.
Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 infamous natives
Like its predecessor Robinson Crusoe, Defoe's Captain Singleton is about survival in an exotic land. But widening his scope, Defoe takes his narrator across Africa and through all the major oceans, rather than trapping him on an island. He also introduces a moral conflict of interest that he would explore through the rest of his fiction.The main character, a lawless youth who joins a mutiny and is marooned with the other plotters on Madagascar, turns out to be clever and resourceful as the men try to survive in a strange land and get back to Europe. Together they trek across Africa to the Gold Coast, braving jungles, deserts, wild animals, and those infamous natives. Like his predecessor Crusoe, Singleton acquires a man Friday, this time in the person of an African prince who, after the Europeans cure him of his gunshot wounds, pledges allegiance and takes along about 40 of his subjects on the transcontinental hike to serve the white masters. At the end of their risky adventure, they pan huge amounts of gold from the west African rivers and go home rich.
Quickly spending his wealth on dissolute living in England, Singleton turns pirate and terrorizes the Caribbean, South America, the east African coast, and Indonesia. His piracy is largely an economic venture, rather than a violent outburst against society, due in no small part to the intervention of William the Quaker, a surgeon they "force" on board (though he is certainly willing) who always keeps their focus on easy monetary gain and away from unnecessary killing. The tension between William's obvious relish for ill-gotten gain and his underlying morality form the most interesting part of the book, and his sagacity preserves Singleton from many a misadventure and finally brings to him a reputable end.
Essentially two different books in one, Captain Singleton is disjointed and a bit unfocused. It is certainly crammed full of incidents, and Defoe's interest in economy, realism, and travel find full vent in this tale. While Robinson Crusoe is morally straightforward, Captain Singleton begins the string of narratives where Defoe's fascination with mercantile success through sinful or criminal means conflicts with his (or perhaps just his readers') desire for moral justice. His finest works in this vein are Moll Flanders and Roxana, but Captain Singleton provides an early outline for the conflict.
Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 infamous natives
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Ferdinand Count Fathom - Tobias Smollet
The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom (Smollett, 1753)
Smollett's third novel already has a leg up on his first. He doesn't pretend to hold up Ferdinand as a reputable protagonist; rather, he embraces the anti-hero mantle for his wily rake, and in the process he succeeds in crafting an interesting story, with a little bit more substance than Roderick Random.
Ferdinand is the child of an unknown German soldier and an English prostitute whose hobbies also include robbing battlefield corpses. He manages to insinuate himself into the good graces of a nobleman, who raises the orphan as his own child. A bright lad, but a manipulative soul, he soon dives into plots, intrigues, cons, and deceptions, trying to make a quick buck and steal meaningless pleasure. We follow his career of crime through Germany, Austria, France, and England, as he systematically bites every hand that ever fed him and even betrays his best friend. The vicissitudes of his fortune lead him into brutal poverty and final repentance, and shockingly, it's a quite believable repentance. I didn't think Smollett had it in him.
The subplot involving Ferdinand's duped friend and the beautiful Monimia is decent too, including an almost Gothic graveyard scene and an over-the-top plot twist. But Ferdinand's schemes are the most interesting part of the book. Whether he is card-sharping, playing doctor, prosecuting romances (there really is no other verb to apply here), or dodging creditors, Ferdinand's antics are usually worth reading, and they provide a strong picture of the effects of vice and deception. Maybe I won't completely write off Smollett just yet.
Arbitrary rating: 3.5 out of 5 careers of crime
Smollett's third novel already has a leg up on his first. He doesn't pretend to hold up Ferdinand as a reputable protagonist; rather, he embraces the anti-hero mantle for his wily rake, and in the process he succeeds in crafting an interesting story, with a little bit more substance than Roderick Random.Ferdinand is the child of an unknown German soldier and an English prostitute whose hobbies also include robbing battlefield corpses. He manages to insinuate himself into the good graces of a nobleman, who raises the orphan as his own child. A bright lad, but a manipulative soul, he soon dives into plots, intrigues, cons, and deceptions, trying to make a quick buck and steal meaningless pleasure. We follow his career of crime through Germany, Austria, France, and England, as he systematically bites every hand that ever fed him and even betrays his best friend. The vicissitudes of his fortune lead him into brutal poverty and final repentance, and shockingly, it's a quite believable repentance. I didn't think Smollett had it in him.
The subplot involving Ferdinand's duped friend and the beautiful Monimia is decent too, including an almost Gothic graveyard scene and an over-the-top plot twist. But Ferdinand's schemes are the most interesting part of the book. Whether he is card-sharping, playing doctor, prosecuting romances (there really is no other verb to apply here), or dodging creditors, Ferdinand's antics are usually worth reading, and they provide a strong picture of the effects of vice and deception. Maybe I won't completely write off Smollett just yet.
Arbitrary rating: 3.5 out of 5 careers of crime
Monday, May 11, 2015
Roderick Random - Tobias Smollett
The Adventures of Roderick Random (Smollett, 1748)
Ever since I read Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, I've wanted to read Smollett. The young David talks about how he escaped into the worlds of Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, and Humphrey Clinker, and as a young reader taking his escape in David Copperfield, I took note.
Alas, Smollett left me underwhelmed. Roderick Random is definitely a picaresque novel. It checks all the boxes: a bluff young hero who undergoes outrageous turns of fortune (there's a reason his last name is Random), a goofy sidekick who tries to make the bluff young hero look good, a host of colorful characters along the way, and a perfect woman waiting at the end of it all. But checking the boxes is about as deep as it goes. It's a series of events, a little bit of humor, but not much reason to care.
The main problem is Roderick himself. An orphan mistreated by his grandfather and relatives, his major motivation throughout the book is revenge. He doesn't really care about love, friendship, or even making money -- he just wants to get even. During his stint in the navy under a tyrannical captain, Roderick starts to eek some empathy out of the reader. Under the hardship of the ignorant captain, he matures imperceptibly as he bonds with his messmates in distress, but for the rest of the book, he knocks about with no one but himself in mind. The happy ending is handed to him on a silver platter, and it's very hard to rejoice, especially when his final prosperity comes attended with several last swipes at the people who kept him down. He's not really an anti-hero, but he's certainly not likable.
If there is any redeeming quality here, the widely ranging breadth of the book provides a fairly convincing tableaux of run-of-the-mill humanity: nothing special, no one particularly saintly, villainous, or conflicted, just a bunch of humans trying to get their kicks on life's bumpy highway.
Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 outrageous turns of fortune
Ever since I read Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, I've wanted to read Smollett. The young David talks about how he escaped into the worlds of Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, and Humphrey Clinker, and as a young reader taking his escape in David Copperfield, I took note.
Alas, Smollett left me underwhelmed. Roderick Random is definitely a picaresque novel. It checks all the boxes: a bluff young hero who undergoes outrageous turns of fortune (there's a reason his last name is Random), a goofy sidekick who tries to make the bluff young hero look good, a host of colorful characters along the way, and a perfect woman waiting at the end of it all. But checking the boxes is about as deep as it goes. It's a series of events, a little bit of humor, but not much reason to care.
The main problem is Roderick himself. An orphan mistreated by his grandfather and relatives, his major motivation throughout the book is revenge. He doesn't really care about love, friendship, or even making money -- he just wants to get even. During his stint in the navy under a tyrannical captain, Roderick starts to eek some empathy out of the reader. Under the hardship of the ignorant captain, he matures imperceptibly as he bonds with his messmates in distress, but for the rest of the book, he knocks about with no one but himself in mind. The happy ending is handed to him on a silver platter, and it's very hard to rejoice, especially when his final prosperity comes attended with several last swipes at the people who kept him down. He's not really an anti-hero, but he's certainly not likable.
If there is any redeeming quality here, the widely ranging breadth of the book provides a fairly convincing tableaux of run-of-the-mill humanity: nothing special, no one particularly saintly, villainous, or conflicted, just a bunch of humans trying to get their kicks on life's bumpy highway.
Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 outrageous turns of fortune
Sunday, May 10, 2015
A Sentimental Journey - Laurence Sterne
A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy (Sterne, 1768)
The only other novel by the author of the hilariously freewheeling Tristram Shandy, Sterne's Sentimental Journey is similarly light-hearted and humorous, albeit on a much smaller scale.
Of course, the plot is immaterial. The book starts and ends mid-sentence, and in the middle of those interrupted sentences, the narrator (the parson Yorick from Tristram Shandy, though really just a thin veil for Sterne) wanders around France -- he never even gets to Italy -- seeking intellectual attachments, finer feelings, and female regard. The hopeless romantic falls in love at the drop of a hat with random shopkeepers and lady's-maids, but it's a love that never takes itself too seriously, especially if it will interfere with a good anecdote or the purchase of a fine set of Shakespeare.
Essentially a slim volume of digressions, musings, sketches, and anecdotes, my only complaint is that it's too short. After the bountiful feast of Tristram Shandy, the enjoyable Sentimental Journey isn't even dessert - it's a sample platter, with several delectable bites but not much to sink one's teeth into. That said, those bits are quite delicious. Take this scene. After a good meal, Yorick waxes eloquent on the beauty of charity: "When man is at peace with man, how much lighter than a feather is the heaviest of metals in his hand! he pulls out his purse, and holding it airily and uncompressed, looks round him, as if he sought for an object to share it with! ... I had scarce uttered the words, when a poor monk of the order of St. Francis came into the room to beg something for his convent... The moment I cast my eyes upon him, I was predetermined not to give him a single sous." The book is full of engaging, rambling stories that take comic and often ironic turns. Continually undercutting, diverting, and rerouting his narrative, Sterne's art of the absurd is enchanting, and it is underpinned by genuine love and self-deprecating good-humor.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 random shopkeepers
The only other novel by the author of the hilariously freewheeling Tristram Shandy, Sterne's Sentimental Journey is similarly light-hearted and humorous, albeit on a much smaller scale.Of course, the plot is immaterial. The book starts and ends mid-sentence, and in the middle of those interrupted sentences, the narrator (the parson Yorick from Tristram Shandy, though really just a thin veil for Sterne) wanders around France -- he never even gets to Italy -- seeking intellectual attachments, finer feelings, and female regard. The hopeless romantic falls in love at the drop of a hat with random shopkeepers and lady's-maids, but it's a love that never takes itself too seriously, especially if it will interfere with a good anecdote or the purchase of a fine set of Shakespeare.
Essentially a slim volume of digressions, musings, sketches, and anecdotes, my only complaint is that it's too short. After the bountiful feast of Tristram Shandy, the enjoyable Sentimental Journey isn't even dessert - it's a sample platter, with several delectable bites but not much to sink one's teeth into. That said, those bits are quite delicious. Take this scene. After a good meal, Yorick waxes eloquent on the beauty of charity: "When man is at peace with man, how much lighter than a feather is the heaviest of metals in his hand! he pulls out his purse, and holding it airily and uncompressed, looks round him, as if he sought for an object to share it with! ... I had scarce uttered the words, when a poor monk of the order of St. Francis came into the room to beg something for his convent... The moment I cast my eyes upon him, I was predetermined not to give him a single sous." The book is full of engaging, rambling stories that take comic and often ironic turns. Continually undercutting, diverting, and rerouting his narrative, Sterne's art of the absurd is enchanting, and it is underpinned by genuine love and self-deprecating good-humor.
Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 random shopkeepers
Saturday, May 09, 2015
Gulliver's Travels and Other Writings - Johnathan Swift
Gulliver's Travels and Other Writings (Swift, 1726)
Johnathan Swift's gift for satire outlives the timeliness of his subjects - though so often, his targets are intrinsic to human nature, and therefore never out of date. Enriched with razor wit and the passion of an Irishman, the works in this collection are a testament to the genius of Swift.
Of course, almost everyone knows something about Gulliver's Travels, Swift's most famous work. A sweeping portrayal of human folly, political shenanigans, and absurd ideas, there is much more going on here than whimsical storytelling. Through a series of unfortunate events, Gulliver discovers many faraway lands and exotic peoples: the tiny Lilliputians and the giant Brobdingnagians; the mathematical Laputans with their heads in the clouds; and the Houyhnhnms, a race of intelligent horses who herd the degenerate Yahoos, perhaps the most withering and misogynistic portrayal of humanity ever committed to paper. Indeed, the end of the book is intensely dark, with Gulliver rejecting his own family as "poor Yahoos" and living in despairing isolation. That, plus all the scatological humor in regards to tiny and giant people, and I'm not sure how this ever became known as a kid's book!
Also included are A Tale of a Tub, "The Battle of the Books", "The Mechanical Operation of the Soul", "An Argument Against Abolishing Christianity in England", "A Modest Proposal", "Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift", and several other shorter works in prose and poetry. The Tale is one of the funniest things I've ever read. A satire on modernist thought and "new learning", he skewers the wordy style of the writers of his day by expanding a 30-page allegory into almost 120 pages of introductions, prefaces, footnotes, and digressions. But fear not, it's hilarious from start to finish, due in no small part to Swift's ebullient wit.
I wish I could do justice to Swift's style and substance within this review, but it's hopeless. All I can say is, read him.
Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 ebullient wits
Johnathan Swift's gift for satire outlives the timeliness of his subjects - though so often, his targets are intrinsic to human nature, and therefore never out of date. Enriched with razor wit and the passion of an Irishman, the works in this collection are a testament to the genius of Swift.Of course, almost everyone knows something about Gulliver's Travels, Swift's most famous work. A sweeping portrayal of human folly, political shenanigans, and absurd ideas, there is much more going on here than whimsical storytelling. Through a series of unfortunate events, Gulliver discovers many faraway lands and exotic peoples: the tiny Lilliputians and the giant Brobdingnagians; the mathematical Laputans with their heads in the clouds; and the Houyhnhnms, a race of intelligent horses who herd the degenerate Yahoos, perhaps the most withering and misogynistic portrayal of humanity ever committed to paper. Indeed, the end of the book is intensely dark, with Gulliver rejecting his own family as "poor Yahoos" and living in despairing isolation. That, plus all the scatological humor in regards to tiny and giant people, and I'm not sure how this ever became known as a kid's book!
Also included are A Tale of a Tub, "The Battle of the Books", "The Mechanical Operation of the Soul", "An Argument Against Abolishing Christianity in England", "A Modest Proposal", "Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift", and several other shorter works in prose and poetry. The Tale is one of the funniest things I've ever read. A satire on modernist thought and "new learning", he skewers the wordy style of the writers of his day by expanding a 30-page allegory into almost 120 pages of introductions, prefaces, footnotes, and digressions. But fear not, it's hilarious from start to finish, due in no small part to Swift's ebullient wit.
I wish I could do justice to Swift's style and substance within this review, but it's hopeless. All I can say is, read him.
Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 ebullient wits
Sunday, March 22, 2015
The Imperial Hotel - The Samurai of Prog
The Imperial Hotel (The Samurai of Prog, 2014)
1. After the Echoes - 8:43
2. Limoncello - 7:57
3. Victoria's Summer Home - 2:54
4. The Imperial Hotel - 28:10
5. Into the Lake - 8:43
All I can say is, wow. A gathering of musicians across several continents in several studios came together and created a progressive rock masterpiece. The core of the Samurai of Prog are Marco Bernard (bass), Kimmo Porsti (drums), and Steve Unruh (vocals, flute, violin, acoustic guitar). The Samurai solicited four different keyboardists for original compositions, which they arranged, interpreted, performed, and recorded, with the help of different guest guitarists for each song, plus a few others. From this large cast of musicians and composers, it is remarkable that the album is coherent at all, much less the focused, well-paced, exciting, wildly creative success that it is.
With a glorious sunburst of a chorus as its anchor, keyboardist Octavio Stampalia's "After the Echoes" marries several different moods and movements. Up-tempo knotty verses, contrapuntal piano and bass, beautifully fragile vocals in the bridge, and heroic instrumental solos combine to stunning effect in this opener. From such bright beginnings, the playful Baroque waltz of Robert Webb's "Limoncello" continues the goodness: a melodic bass line dances with muscular synth, sprightly violin/flute, and a delicious over-the-top guitar performance from Yoshihisa Shimizu. More multi-part vocals import a wistful, Decameron-related musing.
David Myers's solo piano performance of "Victoria's Summer Home" serves as a lush, Romantic introduction to the main event: Robert Webb's "The Imperial Hotel", a dramatic, richly textured, perfectly paced musical ghost story. Shared lead vocals between Steve and Robert tell the tale of a rich young upstart trying to buy an abandoned hotel, whose aged owner Emma will only entertain her potential buyer as a hotel guest. James plays along in hopes of making a deal, but Emma's hopes are darker and more mysterious... The story communicates well on first listen but yields new enjoyment with repeated hearings, and the music perfectly complements the action. The Samurai shine on their instruments, Webb provides inspired keyboard/synth/organ, and the stately guitar work of Glass Hammer's Kamran Alan Shikoh reaches dizzying heights in this multifaceted epic. The 28 minutes flies by and leaves you very satisfied, yet still wanting more. Ah, the yearning...
Closing the album is Linus Kase's "Into the Lake", an intricate, murky rumination on the unrecoverable past. The intense interplay of synth, violin, bass, and drums, along with the contrapuntal two-part vocals during the 19/8-time verse, all combine to create a sense of drama and disintegration that makes the piece gripping. The album as a whole moves from light to dark, freedom to capture, possibility to certainty, with the story of "The Imperial Hotel" acting as the heart and hinge, and the other songs exploring the same emotional arc through progressive adventures. Not to be missed.
Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 musical ghost stories
1. After the Echoes - 8:432. Limoncello - 7:57
3. Victoria's Summer Home - 2:54
4. The Imperial Hotel - 28:10
5. Into the Lake - 8:43
All I can say is, wow. A gathering of musicians across several continents in several studios came together and created a progressive rock masterpiece. The core of the Samurai of Prog are Marco Bernard (bass), Kimmo Porsti (drums), and Steve Unruh (vocals, flute, violin, acoustic guitar). The Samurai solicited four different keyboardists for original compositions, which they arranged, interpreted, performed, and recorded, with the help of different guest guitarists for each song, plus a few others. From this large cast of musicians and composers, it is remarkable that the album is coherent at all, much less the focused, well-paced, exciting, wildly creative success that it is.
With a glorious sunburst of a chorus as its anchor, keyboardist Octavio Stampalia's "After the Echoes" marries several different moods and movements. Up-tempo knotty verses, contrapuntal piano and bass, beautifully fragile vocals in the bridge, and heroic instrumental solos combine to stunning effect in this opener. From such bright beginnings, the playful Baroque waltz of Robert Webb's "Limoncello" continues the goodness: a melodic bass line dances with muscular synth, sprightly violin/flute, and a delicious over-the-top guitar performance from Yoshihisa Shimizu. More multi-part vocals import a wistful, Decameron-related musing.
David Myers's solo piano performance of "Victoria's Summer Home" serves as a lush, Romantic introduction to the main event: Robert Webb's "The Imperial Hotel", a dramatic, richly textured, perfectly paced musical ghost story. Shared lead vocals between Steve and Robert tell the tale of a rich young upstart trying to buy an abandoned hotel, whose aged owner Emma will only entertain her potential buyer as a hotel guest. James plays along in hopes of making a deal, but Emma's hopes are darker and more mysterious... The story communicates well on first listen but yields new enjoyment with repeated hearings, and the music perfectly complements the action. The Samurai shine on their instruments, Webb provides inspired keyboard/synth/organ, and the stately guitar work of Glass Hammer's Kamran Alan Shikoh reaches dizzying heights in this multifaceted epic. The 28 minutes flies by and leaves you very satisfied, yet still wanting more. Ah, the yearning...
Closing the album is Linus Kase's "Into the Lake", an intricate, murky rumination on the unrecoverable past. The intense interplay of synth, violin, bass, and drums, along with the contrapuntal two-part vocals during the 19/8-time verse, all combine to create a sense of drama and disintegration that makes the piece gripping. The album as a whole moves from light to dark, freedom to capture, possibility to certainty, with the story of "The Imperial Hotel" acting as the heart and hinge, and the other songs exploring the same emotional arc through progressive adventures. Not to be missed.
Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 musical ghost stories
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
The Secret Island Band Jams - Resistor
The Secret Island Band Jams (Resistor, 2011)
1. Voyage 7 (improvised) - 4:01
2. Picadora (composed) - 5:01
3. Piezo Fury (improvised) - 5:25
4. All Systems Go! (composed) - 3:30
5. Dream of the Arctic Tern (improvised) - 6:12
6. Santa Anna (improvised, violin added later) - 8:16
7. Quirk (composed) - 3:47
8. Sleepytime (improvised) - 7:11
9. Double Ascent (improvised) - 15:07
Half of Resistor's superb second album Rise consisted of the humorous 40-minute narrative song suite "Land of No Groove", in which four musicians, discouraged by the drivel and fluff of modern music, seek out a new land and discover a far-out group of musicians in voluntary exile on a deserted island. The Secret Island Band Jams is Resistor's third album, all instrumental and mostly improvised, presented as the music made by the Secret Island Band, who promised to push the "record" button whenever something cool was happening.
I'm always up for an adventure, but I must be getting old, because the prospect of a jam album dismayed me at first. Never fear, Resistor transcend the limitations of the genre. As other reviewers have noted, you probably couldn't pick out the improvised pieces versus the composed pieces without being told -- particularly the stunning opener "Voyage 7" and the murky, roiling, adventurous "Santa Anna". This is due in part to a fascinating method of communicating chord progressions mid-jam, which is elegant, inspired, and described in the liner notes. The editing is also quite good, crafting these jams into memorable, fascinating instrumentals, but the biggest reason for success here is the band. The sympathetic interplay of the instrumentalists is truly special to hear, and the excitement is palpable. While I do miss the vocals, this is still an album packed to the gills with fantastic music. Play it loud!
Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 moments of sympathetic interplay
1. Voyage 7 (improvised) - 4:01
2. Picadora (composed) - 5:01
3. Piezo Fury (improvised) - 5:25
4. All Systems Go! (composed) - 3:30
5. Dream of the Arctic Tern (improvised) - 6:12
6. Santa Anna (improvised, violin added later) - 8:16
7. Quirk (composed) - 3:47
8. Sleepytime (improvised) - 7:11
9. Double Ascent (improvised) - 15:07
Half of Resistor's superb second album Rise consisted of the humorous 40-minute narrative song suite "Land of No Groove", in which four musicians, discouraged by the drivel and fluff of modern music, seek out a new land and discover a far-out group of musicians in voluntary exile on a deserted island. The Secret Island Band Jams is Resistor's third album, all instrumental and mostly improvised, presented as the music made by the Secret Island Band, who promised to push the "record" button whenever something cool was happening.
I'm always up for an adventure, but I must be getting old, because the prospect of a jam album dismayed me at first. Never fear, Resistor transcend the limitations of the genre. As other reviewers have noted, you probably couldn't pick out the improvised pieces versus the composed pieces without being told -- particularly the stunning opener "Voyage 7" and the murky, roiling, adventurous "Santa Anna". This is due in part to a fascinating method of communicating chord progressions mid-jam, which is elegant, inspired, and described in the liner notes. The editing is also quite good, crafting these jams into memorable, fascinating instrumentals, but the biggest reason for success here is the band. The sympathetic interplay of the instrumentalists is truly special to hear, and the excitement is palpable. While I do miss the vocals, this is still an album packed to the gills with fantastic music. Play it loud!
Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 moments of sympathetic interplay
Sunday, March 08, 2015
Rasselas - Samuel Johnson
The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia (Johnson, 1749)
When I started reading this, I almost immediately thought of Candide. I figured it had to be a response to it, sort of an anti-Candide, but it turns out they were both published the same year, so both authors were writing in a similar style for opposite purposes at roughly the same time. Craziness!
Samuel Johnson, the great eighteenth-century British man of letters famed for his dictionary, essays, biographies of modern poets, and an annotated, authoritative edition of Shakespeare, produced only one work of creative fiction. Rasselas reads as a fable, similar to Voltaire's aforementioned classic, but it starts from the opposite end: where the everyman Candide starts with a fixed idea of the world that is successively challenged by the vicissitudes of life until he has to abandon it, the privileged Rasselas starts with no fixed concepts, just an undefinable yearning. Raised in luxurious seclusion as Abyssinian (Ethiopian) royalty, he yearns for something beyond meaningless pleasures. With his sister Nekayah and the wise poet Imlac, he goes out into the world to seek the type of life that will produce lasting happiness.
The story elements here are fairly simple and none too memorable. The characters are merely mouthpieces for the competing philosophies of Johnson's day, and while there is certainly wisdom in these pages, the work as a whole did not strike me as a powerful piece of writing. The climax, where Imlac discourses on the soul, is the weakest part, and it is supposed to be the strongest, since Johnson's message is that we should focus on the eternal rather than the temporal. (Definitely the anti-Candide). In his desire to evaluate all of human experience for its ability to produce earthly happiness, Johnson spends more time negating the world than expounding the eternal, and the overall effect is a lack of focus. Though I agree with Johnson's conclusions, I have to give the writing prize to Voltaire's focused, incisive satire, rather than Johnson's meandering Platonic dialogue.
Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 anti-Candides
When I started reading this, I almost immediately thought of Candide. I figured it had to be a response to it, sort of an anti-Candide, but it turns out they were both published the same year, so both authors were writing in a similar style for opposite purposes at roughly the same time. Craziness!
Samuel Johnson, the great eighteenth-century British man of letters famed for his dictionary, essays, biographies of modern poets, and an annotated, authoritative edition of Shakespeare, produced only one work of creative fiction. Rasselas reads as a fable, similar to Voltaire's aforementioned classic, but it starts from the opposite end: where the everyman Candide starts with a fixed idea of the world that is successively challenged by the vicissitudes of life until he has to abandon it, the privileged Rasselas starts with no fixed concepts, just an undefinable yearning. Raised in luxurious seclusion as Abyssinian (Ethiopian) royalty, he yearns for something beyond meaningless pleasures. With his sister Nekayah and the wise poet Imlac, he goes out into the world to seek the type of life that will produce lasting happiness.
The story elements here are fairly simple and none too memorable. The characters are merely mouthpieces for the competing philosophies of Johnson's day, and while there is certainly wisdom in these pages, the work as a whole did not strike me as a powerful piece of writing. The climax, where Imlac discourses on the soul, is the weakest part, and it is supposed to be the strongest, since Johnson's message is that we should focus on the eternal rather than the temporal. (Definitely the anti-Candide). In his desire to evaluate all of human experience for its ability to produce earthly happiness, Johnson spends more time negating the world than expounding the eternal, and the overall effect is a lack of focus. Though I agree with Johnson's conclusions, I have to give the writing prize to Voltaire's focused, incisive satire, rather than Johnson's meandering Platonic dialogue.
Arbitrary rating: 3 out of 5 anti-Candides
Sunday, March 01, 2015
Tom Jones - Henry Fielding
The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling (Fielding, 1749)
What a literary feast! Fielding employs his rare wit and humor in this epic picaresque novel that sets out to chronicle Human Nature in all its lumps and bumps.
One day, good Squire Allworthy finds a baby left in his house, with a note asking him to take care of the child. Raising Tom alongside his nephew and heir Blifil, Allworthy loves the boys as if they were his own sons. But when Allworthy's sister (Blifil's mother) dies unexpectedly, Blifil poisons Allworthy's mind towards Tom, who is kicked out into the world to fend for himself. Secure in the knowledge of his innocence to Allworthy, yet pining for the hand of the beautiful Sophia, Tom travels the roads of England, encountering comic setbacks, unexpected bounties, and wild circumstances on his road to reconciliation.
The plot of this book really is outstanding, especially since, like all good picaresque novels, it doesn't seem to have a plot at all. Tom and his friend Partridge go from episode to episode, stage to stage, yet very little is wasted in Fielding's narration, and everything circles back in consequence as we reach the end. The twist at the finale probably inspired all of Dickens' melodramatic concluding scenes and revelations, yet in Fielding the twist is not only believable, but it should have been obvious from page one. Seeing everything fold into place makes for a very enjoyable reading experience.
The characters are no less delightful. Fielding skillfully exploits the foibles and idiosyncrasies of human nature, and in the process, he makes his characters real: the sweet yet strong Sophia; her conniving lady's maid Mrs. Honour; the mock-pretentious schoolteacher Partridge; gruff, hot-tempered Squire Western and his urbane, dictatorial sister; the insidiously sneaky Blifil; and Tom's warm-blooded good nature all make the pages breathe.
Of course, Fielding's considerable wit practically makes the pages shake. I laughed out loud several times while reading, whether at his knowing asides in the narrative, or more often at his comic metafictional intrusions, where he lambasts critics and playfully analyzes the art of writing and storytelling. When I was younger, I probably would have hated those chapters as interruptions of the story, but they provide a unique outlet for the author to speak candidly and hilariously, straight to the reader.
Since this novel was written in 18th century England, there are plenty of ribald jokes and bawdy incidents, all cloaked with the intention of enjoining good morals, but delivered with a wink and a nod. And though it looks for awhile as if Tom's sins and indiscretions have sunk him into the pit, he ultimately emerges unscathed, with previous indiscretions filed under "wild oats". That's the only weak part for me, but Fielding claims his subject matter as his defense - he will not whitewash or polish his characters, but rather portray them as they are, in the most hilarious way possible.
Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 comic metafictional intrusions
What a literary feast! Fielding employs his rare wit and humor in this epic picaresque novel that sets out to chronicle Human Nature in all its lumps and bumps.
One day, good Squire Allworthy finds a baby left in his house, with a note asking him to take care of the child. Raising Tom alongside his nephew and heir Blifil, Allworthy loves the boys as if they were his own sons. But when Allworthy's sister (Blifil's mother) dies unexpectedly, Blifil poisons Allworthy's mind towards Tom, who is kicked out into the world to fend for himself. Secure in the knowledge of his innocence to Allworthy, yet pining for the hand of the beautiful Sophia, Tom travels the roads of England, encountering comic setbacks, unexpected bounties, and wild circumstances on his road to reconciliation.The plot of this book really is outstanding, especially since, like all good picaresque novels, it doesn't seem to have a plot at all. Tom and his friend Partridge go from episode to episode, stage to stage, yet very little is wasted in Fielding's narration, and everything circles back in consequence as we reach the end. The twist at the finale probably inspired all of Dickens' melodramatic concluding scenes and revelations, yet in Fielding the twist is not only believable, but it should have been obvious from page one. Seeing everything fold into place makes for a very enjoyable reading experience.
The characters are no less delightful. Fielding skillfully exploits the foibles and idiosyncrasies of human nature, and in the process, he makes his characters real: the sweet yet strong Sophia; her conniving lady's maid Mrs. Honour; the mock-pretentious schoolteacher Partridge; gruff, hot-tempered Squire Western and his urbane, dictatorial sister; the insidiously sneaky Blifil; and Tom's warm-blooded good nature all make the pages breathe.
Of course, Fielding's considerable wit practically makes the pages shake. I laughed out loud several times while reading, whether at his knowing asides in the narrative, or more often at his comic metafictional intrusions, where he lambasts critics and playfully analyzes the art of writing and storytelling. When I was younger, I probably would have hated those chapters as interruptions of the story, but they provide a unique outlet for the author to speak candidly and hilariously, straight to the reader.
Since this novel was written in 18th century England, there are plenty of ribald jokes and bawdy incidents, all cloaked with the intention of enjoining good morals, but delivered with a wink and a nod. And though it looks for awhile as if Tom's sins and indiscretions have sunk him into the pit, he ultimately emerges unscathed, with previous indiscretions filed under "wild oats". That's the only weak part for me, but Fielding claims his subject matter as his defense - he will not whitewash or polish his characters, but rather portray them as they are, in the most hilarious way possible.
Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 comic metafictional intrusions
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