I don’t mean to discourage anyone from reading this book, but I can’t say I found it very enjoyable. The diction of the characters may put off many modern readers, but more so for me, it was their actions that made it difficult to complete. Due to their pride and, um, ‘gumption,’ I’m sure none of the inhabitants of the book would ask for pity, but it is really difficult to sympathize with people who continue to make such stupid and selfish decisions.

The structure of the book, a series of short chapters each from the first-person perspective of a different character should make this a page-turner; however, being trapped in the repetitive wasp’s nest that is the mind of Dewey Dell or the maze of inane logic that guide’s Vardaman’s actions is a trial.

The humor is both obvious and fleeting, and though there are some quotable passages, the nuggets of wisdom seem for the most part artificially placed there by the author rather than a natural outgrowth of the dialogue or plot.

When they do finally bury the 9-day+ old body, the supposed reason for the extremely difficult journey they undertake to Jefferson, it is barely mentioned. Perhaps this anti-climactic ending is symptomatic of their “take it as it comes” attitude to life and death, but more so, it serves to underscore the ulterior motives of all persons involved.

The simple or single-mindendness of the Bundrens makes them incapable of functioning individually, and their selfishness makes them incapable of functioning as a family unit. Darl through his (to everyone else, uncanny) powers of perception and observation might arguably live outside the restraint of ignorance, violence, and hypocrisy; however, he tends to use his empathy and knowledge to taunt everyone else, for example Jewel and his inability to express his love for his mother. Even when he finally takes action to bury (cremate) his mother, Darl does so at the expense of everyone else in his family and community by burning a barn (an act which endangers the livelihoods of the farmer and the lives of the animals and those who try to retrieve them).

The person who has the clearest understanding of those around him, and often serves as the only equalizing force for Jewel’s violent nature (e.g. his prevention of a potentially fatal knife-fight on the road to Jefferson), Anse’s incompetance, or Vardaman’s confusion, is in the end declared insane.

The town-folk are portrayed in just as distateful a light as the country-folk, leading to a creeping universal cynicism. If Faulkner is trying to temper tragedy with irony it only makes his version of humanity that much easier to abandon.

You may learn some interesting factoids in this book, such as how the telephone was invented by accident since Bell was trying to recreate a German experiment but misunderstood the original paper…or what the subsequent effects on Dickens were after he survived a train accident. The extremity of vehemence directed against London street musicians was both frightening and amusing as well. For a few fleeting moments the author is even successful at giving us a glimpse into the curious Victorian mind, detailing some key ideas and preoccupations of the era.

Unfortunately, the influence of (modern) sound in literature of the time is examined in an extended, yet slipshod manner, and the chapters seem largely disconnected.

Somewhat interesting history coupled with unconvincing arguments.

The author does a well balanced survey of the wok and wok cooking from home-cooks and relatives to professional chefs to celebrities to historians to artisans. Regional differences in wok care, design, and cooking styles are covered in a revealing manner, and the intermarriage of narrative, recipes, and photography keeps you reading cover to cover. By the end of the book I was convinced that a copper-core stir-fry pan was an inferior tool to a well-seasoned wok. That’s a $300 revelation.

I’d like to think I don’t judge a book by its cover, but I sure am glad I read a detailed review of this before ordering it from the library. Though in some ways a work of scholarship about ethics and emotions might serve as a sort of self-help book (Kierkegaard thought of philosophy as a field that should have practical salience), does it have to LOOK like a self-help book? If you have friends/co-workers like mine, you will suffer a lot of jibes if they catch you reading this.

The book itself is intriguing, suggesting that emotions can be a valuable form of cognition, and that their wholesale suppression under stoicism divorces us from our full capacity to make judgements, or acknowledge value. The author goes one step further in suggesting that Kierkegaard devised a coherent alternative to stoicism, though it seems you must accept the premise that “God is Love” in order for it to work for you. This one article of faith seems to me the primary (and perhaps only substantive) weakness in the argument, which on the whole is a remarkable synthesis of many of Kierkegaard’s ideas by an author who is clearly passionate about his subject.

Detailed enough for a serious student of philosophy (or a related field), yet succinct enough for the patient layman (like myself), if you are looking for a book to challenge your cynicism, there are worse places to start.