Bungo wrote:Just finished G.J. Meyer's A World Undone: The Story of the Great War, 1914 to 1918. Great, readable 700-page history of WWI, with a good balance between the politics and the battles. Supplementary chapters interleaved with the main narrative provide useful information on various royal families, generals, and politicians, as well as topics such as propaganda, poetry, and genocide. These background chapters add interesting color and context to the book, making it very accessible and self-contained for the general reader. They also provide intermissions between the various battles, which is very welcome because so many of the battles, especially on the western front, consisted of pointless carnage with no useful ground gained by either side, which can make for pretty depressing reading after a while. This is of course not the author's fault - that was the reality of the war.
All the major land battles are covered in high-level detail: Meyer, respectful of his target readership, describes the movements at the level of armies, not divisions. Some quotes from soldiers are sprinkled in to give a taste of the grim view from the trenches. Naval battles are largely ignored except for the Dardanelles and a very brief description of Jutland. Airplanes are also mostly neglected, except for an occasional mention of surveillance, bombing, or strafing.
The main battle focus is on Germany's eastern and western fronts, and on Gallipoli. The other theaters are ignored aside from occasional mention of fighting in the Caucasus and the Middle East. This focus is generally OK with me - obviously you have to draw the line somewhere if you are going to fit into 700 pages - but it was rather jarring to reach the final chapter on the Versailles Peace Conference and find that Japan, previously unmentioned in the book, is sitting alongside Britain, Italy, America, and France. It would have been nice to have one additional chapter summarizing what happened in the minor theaters.
Also, more maps would have been welcome. The ones provided are just barely adequate for locating the general area being described, let alone attempting to follow the details of most of the battles. If a city or river is mentioned in the narrative, it should appear on one of the maps, but this is too often not the case.
The final short chapter on Versailles seemed very abrupt, especially when contrasted with the excellent 100+ pages at the start of the book detailing the events that led to the start of the war. I would have welcomed another 100 pages at the end explaining the aftermath in more detail. Fortunately, there are plenty of books on that subject. I have added Margaret MacMillan's Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World to my to-read pile.

Actually, the title is two words: "Wild Fire." Just as an earlier novel of his was entitled "Night Fall," two words.chaz wrote:"Wildfire" by Nelson DeMille.
nisiprius wrote:Actually, the title is two words: "Wild Fire." Just as an earlier novel of his was entitled "Night Fall," two words.chaz wrote:"Wildfire" by Nelson DeMille.
He then goes on to describe further systematized wonders; the "packages of all descriptions racing after one another down spiral planes within the shaft," the "room where six hundred billing-machines were being clicked at once by six hundred young women," the employee's restaurant with its "menu of over a hundred dishes—Austrian, German, Hungarian, Italian, Scotch, French, and American; at prices from one cent up as high as ten cents (prime roast-beef)," the "the firm's private railway station..."Further, there are business organizations in America of a species which do not flourish at all in Europe. For example, the "mail-order house," whose secrets were very generously displayed to me in Chicago—a peculiar establishment which sells merely everything (except patent-medicines)—on condition that you order it by post. Go into that house with money in your palm, and ask for a fan or a flail or a fur-coat or a fountain-pen or a fiddle, and you will be requested to return home and write a letter about the proposed purchase, and stamp the letter and drop it into a mail-box, and then to wait till the article arrives at your door. That house is one of the most spectacular and pleasing proofs that the inhabitants of the United States are thinly scattered over an enormous area, in tiny groups, often quite isolated from stores....
A little machine no bigger than a soup-plate will open hundreds of envelops at once. They are all the same, those envelops; they have even less individuality than sheep being sheared, but when the contents of one—any one at random—are put into your hand, something human and distinctive is put into your hand. I read the caligraphy on a blue sheet of paper, and it was written by a woman in Wyoming, a neat, earnest, harassed, and possibly rather harassing woman, and she wanted all sorts of things and wanted them intensely—I could see that with clearness. This complex purchase was an important event in her year. So far as her imagination went, only one mail-order would reach the Chicago house that morning, and the entire establishment would be strained to meet it.
Bungo wrote:I'm currently reading two books:
* Peter Schiff, The Real Crash: America's Coming Bankruptcy---How to Save Yourself and Your Country.
This is a mixed bag. In the first part of the book, Schiff argues that the monetary policies of the Federal Reserve have contributed to a series of three consecutive bubbles: the dot-com mania, the housing/credit boom-bust, and now, an unsustainable bubble in government spending which will result in "the real crash" indicated in the title. OK as far as it goes, but he largely ignores other causes that are inconvenient to his thesis. The most obvious problem is that he fails to explain why there were simultaneous housing bubbles in many other countries. Surely these were not caused by US government policy.
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Valuethinker wrote:So there is a missing 'x' and even the likes of the IMF are no longer unequivocal advocates of deregulation of financial services and abolition of all capital controls in Emerging Markets. Countries like China just do not (directly) allow this kind of cross border capital flow to happen.
nisiprius wrote:Your United States: Impressions of a First Visit, by Arnold Bennett, written in 1912. Available at Project Gutenberg. Been dipping into it irregularly, unlikely to read it straight through, but fascinating.He then goes on to describe further systematized wonders; the "packages of all descriptions racing after one another down spiral planes within the shaft," the "room where six hundred billing-machines were being clicked at once by six hundred young women," the employee's restaurant with its "menu of over a hundred dishes—Austrian, German, Hungarian, Italian, Scotch, French, and American; at prices from one cent up as high as ten cents (prime roast-beef)," the "the firm's private railway station..."Further, there are business organizations in America of a species which do not flourish at all in Europe. For example, the "mail-order house," whose secrets were very generously displayed to me in Chicago—a peculiar establishment which sells merely everything (except patent-medicines)—on condition that you order it by post. Go into that house with money in your palm, and ask for a fan or a flail or a fur-coat or a fountain-pen or a fiddle, and you will be requested to return home and write a letter about the proposed purchase, and stamp the letter and drop it into a mail-box, and then to wait till the article arrives at your door. That house is one of the most spectacular and pleasing proofs that the inhabitants of the United States are thinly scattered over an enormous area, in tiny groups, often quite isolated from stores....
A little machine no bigger than a soup-plate will open hundreds of envelops at once. They are all the same, those envelops; they have even less individuality than sheep being sheared, but when the contents of one—any one at random—are put into your hand, something human and distinctive is put into your hand. I read the caligraphy on a blue sheet of paper, and it was written by a woman in Wyoming, a neat, earnest, harassed, and possibly rather harassing woman, and she wanted all sorts of things and wanted them intensely—I could see that with clearness. This complex purchase was an important event in her year. So far as her imagination went, only one mail-order would reach the Chicago house that morning, and the entire establishment would be strained to meet it.
All of that organization, that system, and that machinery. Now go back to the envelope and the sheet of paper. Is he saying that in 1912, Sears Roebuck & Co. had not yet invented the order blank?
nisiprius wrote:Actually, the title is two words: "Wild Fire." Just as an earlier novel of his was entitled "Night Fall," two words.chaz wrote:"Wildfire" by Nelson DeMille.
... Of a sudden, from the left, ... a battery opened up on us the most terrific fire I ever witnessed. The first shell struck not more than two rods behind where I was standing. We all retired precipitately to the partial shelter of a brick barn hard by, and there remained until our artillery silenced the guns that had opened. It was awful. For half an hour it raged incessantly. Grape, canister, solid shot and shell whizzed and shrieked and tore past us. The trees nearby were torn and dismembered. A fragment of shell killed two chickens a rod from where I sat. ...
Much of Twichell's time was spent in hospitals, ministering to the spiritual needs of sick, wounded and dying men but also serving as a nurse, litter bearer and gravedigger ...
You can see where this is going. We learn later that"The worst of it is that we have not enough money; I have, it is true, £5000, but we want at least £10,000, so Pryer says, before we can start; when we are fairly under weigh I might live at the college and draw a salary from the foundation, so that it is all one, or nearly so, whether I invest my money in this way or in buying a living... Pryer knows several people who make quite a handsome income out of very little or, indeed, I may say, nothing at all, by buying things at a place they call the Stock Exchange; I don’t know much about it yet, but Pryer says I should soon learn."
Eventually Ernest's godfather intervenes, but it is too late:matters, however, had not gone too well with “the things that people bought in the place that was called the Stock Exchange.” In order to get on faster, it had been arranged that Ernest should buy more of these things than he could pay for, with the idea that in a few weeks, or even days, they would be much higher in value, and he could sell them at a tremendous profit; but, unfortunately, instead of getting higher, they had fallen immediately after Ernest had bought, and obstinately refused to get up again; so, after a few settlements, he had got frightened, for he read an article in some newspaper, which said they would go ever so much lower, and, contrary to Pryer’s advice, he insisted on selling—at a loss of something like £500. He had hardly sold when up went the shares again, and he saw how foolish he had been, and how wise Pryer was, for if Pryer’s advice had been followed, he would have made £500, instead of losing it. However, he told himself he must live and learn.
Then Pryer made a mistake. They had bought some shares, and the shares went up delightfully for about a fortnight. This was a happy time indeed, for by the end of a fortnight, the lost £500 had been recovered, and three or four hundred pounds had been cleared into the bargain. All the feverish anxiety of that miserable six weeks, when the £500 was being lost, was now being repaid with interest. Ernest wanted to sell and make sure of the profit, but Pryer would not hear of it; they would go ever so much higher yet, and he showed Ernest an article in some newspaper which proved that what he said was reasonable, and they did go up a little—but only a very little, for then they went down, down, and Ernest saw first his clear profit of three or four hundred pounds go, and then the £500 loss, which he thought he had recovered, slipped away by falls of a half and one at a time, and then he lost £200 more. Then a newspaper said that these shares were the greatest rubbish that had ever been imposed upon the English public, and Ernest could stand it no longer, so he sold out, again this time against Pryer’s advice, so that when they went up, as they shortly did, Pryer scored off Ernest a second time.
Ernest was not used to vicissitudes of this kind, and they made him so anxious that his health was affected. It was arranged therefore that he had better know nothing of what was being done. Pryer was a much better man of business than he was, and would see to it all. This relieved Ernest of a good deal of trouble, and was better after all for the investments themselves; for, as Pryer justly said, a man must not have a faint heart if he hopes to succeed in buying and selling upon the Stock Exchange, and seeing Ernest nervous made Pryer nervous too—at least, he said it did. So the money drifted more and more into Pryer’s hands.
I had heard from Ernest the name of the broker who had been employed, and went at once to see him. He told me Pryer had closed all his accounts for cash on the day that Ernest had been sentenced, and had received £2315, which was all that remained of Ernest’s original £5000. With this he had decamped, nor had we enough clue as to his whereabouts to be able to take any steps to recover the money.
gkaplan wrote:I am forty pages into If the Dead Rise Not, the sixth in the Bernie Gunther series written by Philip Kerr. I continually read comparisons of Kerr's novels to those of Alan Furst, so I might have to take a look at some of Furst's works.
steve roy wrote:Re Raymond Chandler:
His novels -- in chronological order -- are amazing reads -- The Big Sleep, Farewell My Lovely, The High Window, The Lady In The Lake, The Little Sister, The Long Goodbye . He painted Southern California with vivid brush strokes. And a volume titled "The Letters of Raymond Chandler" is also worth reading.
Dashiel Hammet might be the originator of hard-boiled detective fiction, but Chandler is the writer with the most influence, even fifty-three years after his death.
nisiprius wrote:The Way of All Flesh, by Samuel Butler. I keep quoting it, so I decided it was time to re-read it. It seems better every time.
To quote some investment-related bits: young Ernest, a newly-minted curate (entry-level Anglican clergyman) has fallen in with a slightly older clergyman who enlists him in a crazily-optimistic plan to "set on foot a spiritual movement" by using Ernest's inheritance of £5000--something on the order of $500,000 today--for "the foundation of an institution ... for placing the nature and treatment of sin on a more scientific basis than it rests at present." Ernest writes to a friend thatYou can see where this is going. ..."The worst of it is that we have not enough money; I have, it is true, £5000, but we want at least £10,000, so Pryer says, before we can start; when we are fairly under weigh I might live at the college and draw a salary from the foundation, so that it is all one, or nearly so, whether I invest my money in this way or in buying a living... Pryer knows several people who make quite a handsome income out of very little or, indeed, I may say, nothing at all, by buying things at a place they call the Stock Exchange; I don’t know much about it yet, but Pryer says I should soon learn."
Fallible wrote:nisiprius wrote:The Way of All Flesh, by Samuel Butler. I keep quoting it, so I decided it was time to re-read it. It seems better every time.
To quote some investment-related bits: young Ernest, a newly-minted curate (entry-level Anglican clergyman) has fallen in with a slightly older clergyman who enlists him in a crazily-optimistic plan to "set on foot a spiritual movement" by using Ernest's inheritance of £5000--something on the order of $500,000 today--for "the foundation of an institution ... for placing the nature and treatment of sin on a more scientific basis than it rests at present." Ernest writes to a friend thatYou can see where this is going. ..."The worst of it is that we have not enough money; I have, it is true, £5000, but we want at least £10,000, so Pryer says, before we can start; when we are fairly under weigh I might live at the college and draw a salary from the foundation, so that it is all one, or nearly so, whether I invest my money in this way or in buying a living... Pryer knows several people who make quite a handsome income out of very little or, indeed, I may say, nothing at all, by buying things at a place they call the Stock Exchange; I don’t know much about it yet, but Pryer says I should soon learn."
And nobody can see better where it's going than Bogleheads. This is hilarious and good for a few reads. I wonder whether non-Bogleheads would see as quickly where it's all going (just the Stock Exchange mention) or find it quite as funny. Thanks for posting it.
chaz wrote:Fallible wrote:nisiprius wrote:The Way of All Flesh, by Samuel Butler. I keep quoting it, so I decided it was time to re-read it. It seems better every time.
To quote some investment-related bits: young Ernest, a newly-minted curate (entry-level Anglican clergyman) has fallen in with a slightly older clergyman who enlists him in a crazily-optimistic plan to "set on foot a spiritual movement" by using Ernest's inheritance of £5000--something on the order of $500,000 today--for "the foundation of an institution ... for placing the nature and treatment of sin on a more scientific basis than it rests at present." Ernest writes to a friend thatYou can see where this is going. ..."The worst of it is that we have not enough money; I have, it is true, £5000, but we want at least £10,000, so Pryer says, before we can start; when we are fairly under weigh I might live at the college and draw a salary from the foundation, so that it is all one, or nearly so, whether I invest my money in this way or in buying a living... Pryer knows several people who make quite a handsome income out of very little or, indeed, I may say, nothing at all, by buying things at a place they call the Stock Exchange; I don’t know much about it yet, but Pryer says I should soon learn."
And nobody can see better where it's going than Bogleheads. This is hilarious and good for a few reads. I wonder whether non-Bogleheads would see as quickly where it's all going (just the Stock Exchange mention) or find it quite as funny. Thanks for posting it.
But non-Bogleheads are oblivious.
stratton wrote:The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olsen. Danish detective heads the new cold case division. Pretty good.
Paul
Blues wrote:stratton wrote:The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olsen. Danish detective heads the new cold case division. Pretty good.
Paul
I enjoyed that one as well...unfortunately the two sequels don't hold up as well.
stratton wrote:Blues wrote:stratton wrote:The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olsen. Danish detective heads the new cold case division. Pretty good.
Paul
I enjoyed that one as well...unfortunately the two sequels don't hold up as well.
This is why libraries are useful.![]()
Paul
Blues wrote:stratton wrote:Blues wrote:stratton wrote:The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olsen. Danish detective heads the new cold case division. Pretty good.
Paul
I enjoyed that one as well...unfortunately the two sequels don't hold up as well.
This is why libraries are useful.![]()
Paul
Aye, sir, that they are.
Started "In The Woods" last night by Tana French, the first of the Dublin Murder / Undercover Squad novels.
(I had started out of sequence with "Faithful Place" but I don't think it really matters as they aren't serial as far as I can tell.)
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