My immediate reaction after watching this film was “I want my two hours back”. There is very little payoff here if you are following the domestic narrative about which this film appears to be concerned. On top of that, many of the characters reactions and behaviors in this film seemed unbelievable. Who would watch a suicide before his eyes and offer no aid and not go for any sort of help? And who could be making these films? From those questions followed an hour and a half of good conversation about film, history, responsibility and the role of allegory. So touche, Cache, my time was not wasted after all.

Nick Hornby is a joy to read. I read this book over the last few months while giving my daughters baths. On a good day, I might finish 2-3 pages at a sitting, but it was easily dropped and picked back up. Having Hornby in the room created enjoyable adult conversation, and I always felt like he’d understand having to set down his disputations on Dickens when the little one started throwing bath water at her sister.

I got bogged down starting this book (really, just because I had too many library books that kept jumping ahead in the queue) but now I’m digging in and really getting something out of this book. It brings up tons of interesting issues about whether we really can understand ourselves and our motivations. The details of confabulation are really interesting.

Honestly, I never thought we’d live in as Orwellian a world as we now do. War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength. Want to test it out? Try talking about the war with someone – you descend into an Orwellian circle of “let’s not talk about it” or “We’ve always been at war with . . . ”. Even, or maybe especially, when I see the war protestors as I did this weekend on the 3rd anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, with their “No Iraq War” posters I think, do they mean to say they wish there was no Iraq war or are they just not willing to let the reality of that war into their world. Or how strange it gets when some hawks argue the mistake was staying after we busted it, and some doves argue the mistake is leaving now that its broken. And that palpable feeling that maybe it isn’t such a good idea to talk about this loudly in an open place or the disapproving looks you get from people bothered by the debate. “No Iraq War” is an easier slogan to swallow. War is Peace and Ignorance is Strength. Let’s go back to work. Freedom is Slavery.

It’s not really taking me forever – but I was confused by the mass market paperback repackaging of this book. Confusingly, the mass market edition (think “pocket size” though that would be some pocket) is titled “Quicksilver, vol 1” just like the “trade paperback” edition – except the full sized trade paperback contains books 1-3 whereas the mass market edition contains only book 1 – and “vol 2” is being sold as “King of the Vagabonds”. Do yourself a favor and spring for the full sized “trade paperback” or better yet, buy a used hardback.

I’m halfway through “book 2 of vol 1” and I’m loving the story. Stephenson does a great job with the material he’s bitten off and his characters are portrayed in ways that are both colorful and generally accurate (I studied this period of English as a history grad student in England).

I’ve already bought “The Confusion” and I’m looking forward to losing a couple months to Stephenson’s story.

I made it about halfway through this book before I had to return it to the library. I loved Seligman’s overall tone and his focus on prevention. The resources on the authentic happiness website are great as well. Overall though, I think I just don’t buy into cognitive behavioral therapy. It just isn’t my experience that my thinking is so condition-able – and I’m actually a bit frightened about what might result from focusing exclusively on my thinking – as opposed to say, just altering my behavior to do things I enjoy more. Anyway, big picture, I think this is a fine book and interesting, but struck me as slightly anti-humanistic and reductive. Is that unfair? Sorry – because I did enjoy reading what I did, and could even see buying a copy to have on hand. I’m also interested in reading Seligman’s book on raising optimistic kids. Is that inhumane of me? I’m willing to practice cognitive behaviorism on my dependents but not on myself.

Wow. I’m like a teenage gerard way fan going crazy for these kids from Sheffield. I’m serious thinking of paying $65 to see them play at the Crocodile Cafe next month. While the album has a few weak tracks, it is generally smoking.

Philip Roth seems to have thought of two different ways to tell this story. The first has to do with an interesting espionage plot that gets hatched and changes history, involves luminaries of mid century history, and basically is a pretty interesting idea. Roth spins this part of the story out in newsreels and an omniscient narrators voice – and while it makes for the overall thrust of the novel – it is given short shrift. Instead, Roth labors over his other idea which involves the Roth family in Newark and telling the story of President Lindbergh’s defeat of FDR and tilt toward fascism through the eyes of a nine year old boy trying to make sense of his feelings, family, and nation at a time of trial. While this idea of telling the story through young Philip’s eyes has its moments, it also gets incredibly tedious, especially when Roth starts to describe some particularly active part of the story, only to spin back and go on a 5 page diversion before rejoining the action. Did I mention that I thought the storytelling was a mess? I have a hard time that any young novelist would get such a book published, let alone get the sort of praise Roth has reaped. While I was glad I read it, I was even more glad when it was done.

Here’s a link: http://www.kcrw.com/cgi-bin/db/kcrw.pl?show_code=mb&air_date=11/18/05&tmplt_type=show

The record comes out stateside on Tuesday.

I’m slogging through. I’m around page 220 and I do find it pretty tedious. It is disturbing that Roth’s style is actually making me sympathetic toward Sandy and his aunt, and tired of the shrillness of his parents. I’m sure this feeling will cleverly turn against me once the pogrom kicks in.