This was an interesting book, though not what I was expecting. It was less a historical account of the Middle Ages and more a response to how modern culture views history. While Pernoud was writing from the perspective of France in the 1970s I don’t think things have changed too much or even that historical stereotypes are limited to the Middle Ages (though it still remains a rather looked down upon period, particularly in America). It is easy to see that Pernoud truly loves Medieval Europe, and the book documents her struggle to get people to look beyond the stereotype of squalor and backwardness to see the vibrant, interesting thousand years of European history. Even today I think that most think only of plagues and witch burnings when they think of the Middle Ages, which as Pernoud points out did not even occur until nearly the end of the period and continued into the Renaissance. Also, Pernoud argues that the Renaissance was actually a step back in terms of women’s rights which shows that, unlike what is often believed, history is not a progressive line of things always getting better.
While I didn’t agree with all of her arguments, I think she argued very well for the view that no period of history is better than another; we are not smarter than the people of Medieval Europe, nor are we less smart.

I enjoy looking at ghost stories from various times and cultures, I feel they provide interesting insight into how cultures approach the contradictory worlds of the “real” and the “mystical.” There are some interesting stories included in this collection ranging from the 1850s to the 1990s. While most are from an Anglo-Australian perspective, there are several native Australian stories included as well, and others that discuss the violent and tragic meeting of the two. It is also interesting the see where influences came from, as a few had definite influence from Edgar Allan Poe, I felt, interpreted through an Australian setting. The only problem is the book seems to be extremely hard to come by (I read mine through a local university library.)

After reading this, the last of Mieville’s trio of Bas Lag novels, I have to say I was a bit disappointed. Iron Council is definitely my least favorite of the three, despite (or perhaps because of) being the most overtly political. Perhaps because of the focus on revolution, I felt the characters of this novel were much less interesting then the previous two. Unlike Isaac or Bellis, I never really connected with or identified with Cutter, Ori, Ann Hari or any other person or felt drawn into their conflicts (which I was completely with Perdido Street Station and the Scar). In particular, I felt the character of Judah to be fairly bland and I admit to being a bit bored with him and the whole Iron Council saga that took up a majority of the middle of the novel.
However, Mieville does continue with his unique brand of world building, making the blend of a corrupt industrial-magical society seem not only completely alien but also very real, from the bizarre Cacotopic Stain to the various neighborhoods of New Crobozon.
I also liked that, as in his previous novels, there is a bit of genre blending taking place in Bas Lag, which I find interesting. Perdido Street Station, for instance mixed a lot of horror and some noir into its fantasy while the Scar was very much a swashbuckling adventure story. In Iron Council, there is some definite Western stylings showing up, though the extra genre is a little less evident then in previous Bas Lag stories.
In conclusion, I felt that Iron Council was a bit slow moving with comparatively undeveloped characters, though I enjoyed this last exploration of the world of Bas Lag and particularly, the city of New Crobozon and continues with Mieville’s brand of genre blending.

This was a very uneven piece of work, I thought. I was kind of hoping for road trip stories of the author’s encounters with strange places, kind of a bit of negative Americana, but it was mostly a compilation of other peoples opinions the author obtained from emails, which is very much the style of many of the entries. While there were some entertaining descriptions of American cities and towns, most of it was simply angry rants I could easily find for free online. The entries on cities were broken into various “stats,” some serious such as crime and poverty rates, but most “humorous” such as the types of people who call these “hellholes” home, including such diverse undesirables as “dirty hippies,” Mexicans, violently racist rednecks, gang bangers, or the obese. Politically correct it isn’t, but at least it lets everyone make fun of everyone. While including the blatantly obvious such as Detroit, others tear into small towns like St. Cloud, MN or “overrated” cities like Seattle. I certainly wouldn’t look for any unbiased opinions from this book and the majority of information obtained could easily be found by entering “city-name-here sucks” in Google. While it may provide some insight into some reasons why locals or visitors might dislike a certain place, I just felt “The Absolutely Worst Places to Live in America” slapped together

I found Mukerjee’s anthropological memoir describing the current life of the people of the Andaman Islands to be extremely gripping. Known for centuries in the outside world as the most “primitive” humans in existence, so primal in their lifestyle that they had not even mastered fire, they were often looked upon as little better than animals. Mukerjee cites and quotes myriad period documents which describe the interplay between the outsiders who took control of the Andaman Islands, first the British, then the Indians, up to current attempts to bring the last of the stone age tribes fully into contemporary Indian society. I feel that Mukerjee does a wonderful job describing a culture that is nearly unknown and showing that currently, the last remaining Andaman Islanders untouched by foreign influences are slowly being integrated in modern culture whether they want it or not, representing the last confrontation between a powerful colonial culture and one left unchanged, perhaps being the one we can do something about.

This was a very interesting account of the effects of an economic depression on the rural inhabitants of western Wisconsin, specifically the town of Black River Falls, with photographs that really bring to life the people who lived and died during the 1890s. However, I feel that the books formats, arguments, and designs say almost as much about the study of the humanities during the 1970s as about the late nineteenth century. Lesy’s impetus behind the approach to history seen in the book seem to be very representative of the new philosophies such as postmodernism that began to effect the academic world by the ‘70s. In any case, I thought that Lesy did a very good job at evoking the everyday life, if rather sordid and bizarre, of the rural populace of America. I especially felt the mixture of actual documents and photographs brought a unique view of history, brought even closer to home as I read the book in the town of Winona, Minnesota just across the river from the area of Wisconsin the book details.

I liked this novel, a poignant depiction of a troubled young man struggling to come to terms with his sexuality in 1970s Minneapolis after the tragic death of his mother in the icy Mississippi. I felt that Kevin’s personality and feelings were very well developed and the book spared no details in the course of the very rough year of 1978, though I felt that some plot points were left unfulfilled. I especially enjoyed the setting of the Twin Cities in 1978, recognizing things still in existence as well as those that have disappeared since then, almost feeling transported back three decades. In conclusion, I would highly recommend “The Year of Ice” particularly to Twin Citians.

Like her earlier novel “Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell” I really, really enjoyed these stories by Susanna Clarke, which in some cases dealt further with themes brought up in the far longer work. I felt that each story was interesting, with styles very well evocative of their 19th (or in some cases earlier) century literary inspirations, complete with footnotes. Each takes the theme of faeries and, in very different ways, show the often times strained relationships between the “sidhe” and humanity, often in very folkloric ways. As a lover of folklore, I especially enjoyed this, as well as the extra time spent in Clarke’s vision of a magical 1800s world. In some ways, I would say that I would recommend these stories in particular to people interested in “Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell” but unsure as to whether they would enjoy the style enough to read 782 pages.

Ever since coming across this book, I’ve been obsessed. The hilarious, the horrifying, and the heart wrenching accounts of the wonders of everyday life, fresh from the streets where they were abandoned has struck some kind of cord with me, and now I frequent the Found Magazine website, have searched out back issues of Found Magazine, and am amassing my own collection of unique documents left by who knows who (Who IS Steve? one asks, and no answer is given). I can really say that this book has helped look at other people in a new light, giving me a new sense of empathy towards humanity. Everyone loves, everyone feels pain, and this collection provides a perfect way to view the human condition.

I felt ambivalent towards this book. Finding it at the library after watching all of the interesting little BBC web cartoons online, I thought that it might be interesting. On the one hand, I felt that the main characters introduced in the web series, such as siblings Tamora and Will, the demon Iblis, even the ghosts, were very well protrayed in the novel, with their personalities and motivations very distinct and believable, and fairly true to the early 19th century England, as far as I could tell. Also, the setting was well defined and interesting. The only thing lacking, in my opinion was the plot; it was cliched and rather over the top at times. While some interesting scenes with cursed statues were given, the monster overload with various beasts from Indian folklore popping up in hoards was a little much for me, even in a book where ghosts show up all the time. I felt that the main villain could have been interesting, but was left pretty one dimensional. In the end, I felt that the book was a little two sided; on the one hand, the main characters were very likable and real, and the scenes without reference to the main plot were extremely enjoyable. On the other, they weren’t able to express themselves much when dealing with the stereotypical monstrous army about to descend on unsuspecting London. Could this have been the results of the two different authors competing for space?