'On the Ownership of Books'

As a rule I don't reproduce entire articles or passages written by others; maybe, a few quotes in context of a review or a general post. This time, however, I’m making an exception because I felt readers would enjoy it as much as I did (in context of my commandments in an earlier post). The article is titled ‘On the Ownership of Books’ and it was published 85 years ago, in 1928, in The Literary Review [Vol.1, No.1, June 1928] of State Teachers College, Farmville, Virginia. Today, the college is known as Longwood College affiliated to Longwood University. 

The author of the article is one Frances Volk who, I think, was a student at State Teachers College. She was also the vice president of Argus Literary Society, VA, in 1926. Frances has written on a topic that is very close to our hearts—books—and her views even nearly a century ago were just the same as ours today. Some things never change. Read on…

On the Ownership of Books

By Frances Volk

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any courses like a page
Of prancing poetically.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How fragile is the chariot
That bears a human soul!
— Emily Dickinson

There is a special appeal about the books which you own. No other books are quite like them. No matter how much you like the books which belong to the library, or to your friends, or even to your family, none of them quite fits into that place which is reserved for your very own books. How proud you felt when you were a child and were given a book, and looked inside to find a book-plate on which was inscribed the words: "Mary Ellen — Her Book."

By owning books, I do not mean merely possessing them. Anybody can have books—whole rooms full of them, and never own a one. You have to love them and become a part of them before you own them. Next to reading books yourself, nothing is more pleasant than lending your books to someone else who will cherish them. You get a vicarious enjoyment out of it almost equal to your own first reading of the book which is borrowed.

And new books! The feel of them! To hold in your hands a new volume in its unsoiled cover, its pages freshly cut and waiting to be turned, with the pugnant odor of printer's ink still clinging to it, and to know that it is your own, "to have and to hold,"—that gives a thrill which any book-lover knows.

Owning new books is really detrimental to the moral character, however, in a mild sort of way. You steal time from yourself in order to read them. It takes a very Puritan-like person to resist the call of a new book. What if you will have the book all the rest of your life? You want it now, and you usually take it now, too.

Old books are just as delightful as new ones. I do not mean to slight them, but old books are like grown-ups. You take your time and talk to them sedately, but new books make you feel impulsive like children, and you just have to stop and play with them.

Just as you can never fully appreciate flowers until you have raised them, tended, watered, and picked them, so you can never truly know the value of a book until you have owned it, marked it, and loaned it. Then it is a "joy forever" provided, of course, it is duly returned.

© The Literary Review, State Teachers College, Farmville, Virginia, Vol.1, No.1, June 1928

Two short stories about corpses

I open the score in the new year with forgotten books at Todd Mason’s blog Sweet Freedom, this Friday, with two fairly readable short stories revolving around dead bodies.

Smothered in Corpses by Ernest Bramah, 1912

“But as I glanced back at the corner of the disreputable street, I saw a face charged with diabolical hatred watching me from the grimy window of the room I had just quitted. It was the visage of the aged Chinaman…”

‘The End of the Beginning’ is the first of three short stories in Smothered in Corpses by English author Ernest Bramah (E.B. Smith). It is a murder mystery where the murder remains a mystery.

One morning John Beveledge Humdrum, a physician from Kensington, London, prepares for a breakfast of bacon and eggs and instead is served up with a doubled-up corpse of a well-dressed young man inside his bookcase. The doctor recalls the events of the previous evening when a heavily-veiled woman in a luxury car had taken him to a poor tenement to treat a young boy who had swallowed a bone button. There Humdrum met a villainous-looking Chinaman with a pigtail. As the physician left the slum, a loud explosion destroyed the house and a singed pigtail fell at his feet.

Is there a connection between the corpse inside his bookcase and the Chinaman and the explosion?

Before Humdrum can gather his thoughts, he is brought into the present with the sudden appearance of Erratica, a beautiful young girl who appeals to the doctor to save her from her enemies. She opens the door of the bookcase, flings the corpse on the dissecting table, takes its place, and closes the door after her.

The “enemies” on her tail is, in fact, Inspector Badger of the Detective Service, an old acquaintance of Humdrum, come to inform him of the murder of the prima donna he’d met the previous evening—Senora Rosamunda de Barcelona, a famous Spanish singer—who was found dead with eleven stab wounds, a bone button wrapped in the doctor’s prescription, and a yard of pigtail tied round her neck.

After the inspector leaves, he opens the bookcase only to find it empty and on his dissecting table the corpse of an elderly Italian anarchist he’d met a month ago, instead of the body of the young man.

‘The End of the Beginning’ is an absurd story but a well-written one. As I said, it is one of three stories—the other two being ‘In the Thick of it’ and ‘The Beginning of the End’ also concerning John Humdrum—that Ernest Bramah carved out of a 120,000-word manuscript so as to participate in a short story competition of not more than 4,000 words each. This explains the absurdity of the tale. The three stories are part of The Specimen Case, a collection of many stories.

I thought the experiment was as ingenious as the story. This was the second story I read where a murder mystery revolved around a bookcase. On December 13, 2013, I reviewed The Book Case, a riveting tale by Nelson DeMille.

Nice Corpses Like Flowers by Dorothy Les Tina, 1943

The head and shoulders were part way under the work table, and the thin little coroner was complaining bitterly as he crawled out, stood up and brushed off his knees.

“Why,” he asked no one, “do corpses always get themselves in such awkward positions?”

The coroner’s wry comment doesn't help Detective Clint Fleming in his investigation of the murder of Fred Jensen, a young man, who is found with a florist's knife in his chest and the gilt letter ‘U’ clutched between his fingers.

Fleming is a sharp, cynical, no-nonsense cop who relies more on his gut feelings than on his powers of deduction to solve murder cases. It’s his instincts that enable him to find out who killed Jensen and why.

He questions three suspects, all of them employed in the floral shop—Pat Murray, a pretty young girl, Jack Unger, a young man possessive of the girl, and Herb Martin, a short and stocky man with a temper—as well as its owner Thomas Davies.

What does the ‘U’ stand for? Fleming wonders. Does it stand for the second letter of Pat's last name, the first letter of Jack’s last name, or the ‘u’ in murder?

Fleming, who is romantically inclined towards Pat, finds the truth hidden in the dead man’s secret formula for preserving fresh flowers and smuggling of drugs in out-of-season flowers.

I enjoyed this short story and particularly the character of Clint Fleming who resembles, in speech, attire, and conduct, the many police and private detectives of mid-20th century crime fiction. This story appeared in Crack Detective Magazine, March 1943.

The Chicago-born Dorothy Les Tina is (was?) a teacher and a writer, and served in World War II, in the Women’s Army Corps as a public relations officer in several posts, including Fort Rucker, Alabama. I haven't been able to find out much about Les Tina or her other works.

Reading Habits #5: The Ten Commandments

And Apollo spoke all these words, saying, I am the god of knowledge and intellect who brought you out of ignorance, out of illiteracy, out of apathy.

The Ten Commandments of Moses
by Anton Losenko
© Wikimedia Commons

You shall have no other pursuits, neither movies or music nor chess, before books.

You shall not bow down to more than three books at a time; for we the authors of the three books would be annoyed if you leave them half-read.

You shall not take the name of the writer in vain; for the writer will not hold you guiltless for taking his name in vain but not reading his book.

Six days you shall read, and do all your writing. But the seventh day is the Sabbath: in it you shall not do any work, except read again.

Honour your books and your comics so that your days may be long upon the land of bookstores and libraries that Apollo is giving you.

You shall not tear, mutilate, fold, and dog-ear your books, nor write or scribble on them.

You shall not commit adultery and remain loyal to your books.

You shall not steal someone else’s books or buy more than you can read, nor hoard them. 

You shall not bear false witness against your fellow readers and bloggers.

You shall not covet your fellow-blogger’s bookshelf, or his books, or his blog, or his posts, or his style, or his hits and visits, or anything that is your fellow blogger’s.

Thank you, every one of you, for your very generous support through your visits and comments in 2013. The 3Cs wishes you and your families a very happy and satisfying new year; a year also filled with lots of books as well as the time and the pleasure of reading and reviewing them all through the year.


Note: For the previous four Reading Habits, look under Labels.

2013: The year that wasn’t

2013 has not been a good year for reading. I read fewer than fifty books, fifty comic books, fifty short stories, and fifty vintage magazines and anthologies. I’ve done better in the past, in my pre-blogging days (who didn’t?). I liked most of the books I read.

I also ‘rediscovered’ chess towards the end of the year. Time spent on playing the game cost me a few books.

The best sitcom of the year

On the other hand, I watched more than fifty movies and sitcoms, including reruns of nearly all the seasons of Friends, Two and a Half Men, The Big Bang Theory, Everybody Loves Raymond, and David Suchet’s Poirot, though I reviewed fewer than that many. I’d do well to pay heed to Groucho Marx's saying, “I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.”

Instead of mentioning all the books, comic books, and short stories I read and the films I saw during the year, which doesn’t amount to much, I’ll list the ones I thought were good. They have been reviewed elsewhere on this blog.

BOOKS

The best book cover

Western
Three Young Ranchmen by Captain Ralph Bonehill (1901)

The Girl from Sunset Ranch by Amy Bell Marlowe (1914)

Buchanan’s Siege by Jonas Ward (1973)

Hard Texas Winter by Preston Lewis (1981)

Blade: The Navaho Trail by Matt Chisholm (1981)

Vultures in the Sun by Brian Garfield (1987)



Classics
The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (1905)

Detective Mystery
The Man in the Brown Suit by Agatha Christie (1924)

The Snake by Mickey Spillane (1964)

In the Heat of the Night by John Ball (1965)

All the Lonely People by Martin Edwards (1991)

Suspense-Thriller-Espionage
The Trojan Horse by Hammond Innes (1940)

Hell Is Too Crowded by Jack Higgins (1962)

A Stranger in the Family by Robert Barnard (2010)

The Athena Project by Brad Thor (2011)

General
A Dog of Flanders by Marie Louise de la Ramée (1872)

The Hessian by Howard Fast (1972)

Tales From Firozsha Baag by Rohinton Mistry (1987)

The Big Fix by Vikas Singh (2013)

SHORT STORIES

The best short story cover

The Man Without a Country by Edward Everett Hale (1863)

The Shining Pyramid by Arthur Machen (1895)

The Mysterious Card and The Mysterious Card Unveiled by Cleveland Moffett (1896)

The Man Upstairs and Other Stories by P.G. Wodehouse (1914)

The Killers by Ernest Hemingway (1927)

The Draw by Jerome Bixby (1954)

The Name Is Archer by Ross Macdonald (1955)

The Book Case by Nelson DeMille (2011)


COMIC BOOKS

The best comic book cover

Action Comics #1 (1938)

American Comics Group: Skeleton Hand — Secrets of the Supernatural (1952)

Scream: Skywald Horror-Mood Magazine (1973)

Marvel: Batman vs. The Incredible Hulk (1981)

DC: Batman & Spider-Man (1997)

Additionally, I also read non-fiction, notably The Penguin Book of Comics by George Perry and Alan Aldrige (1967) and In the President's Secret Service: Behind the Scenes with Agents in the Line of Fire and the Presidents They Protect by Ronald Kessler (2010) as well as a few books on philosophy.


FILMS

The best film poster

Ants in the Plants (1940)
Posse from Hell (1961)
In The Heat of the Night (1967)
The Devil's Brigade (1968)
Two Mules for Sister Sara (1970)
Just Between Friends (1986)
The Next Three Days (2010)
Salt (2010)
The Descendants (2011)
The Dilemma (2011)
Captain Phillips (2013)
Thor (2013)

The only plan I have for next year is to read more, especially the classics and other literary fiction, and watch fewer movies and sitcoms unless they’re vintage, superhero, animated or musical.

A Stranger in the Family by Robert Barnard (2010)

A caveat: yesterday, I reviewed half a film. Today, I review half a book. Fortunately, I've’ read enough to review the British crime writer’s penultimate novel for the Robert Barnard special at Patti Abbott’s blog Pattinase this Friday.

‘Kidnapping’s pretty rare these days. Where did this one take place?’
‘In Sicily.’
‘Sicily? That explains it. Dicey sort of place in my experience. And what’s the information you have that you want to report?’
‘I am the child that was kidnapped…’ 

Two years ago, an Indian-born Australian businessman was reunited with his biological family in Khandwa, a city in the central Indian state of Madhya Pradesh, after 25 years. He was separated from his family at a railway station when he was five years old. Later, he was adopted by a family in Australia. As he grew up he never forgot who he was or where he came from. This is a true story and it was reported widely in the media, especially since Google Maps and Facebook helped the young man find his real family.

Newborns and small children routinely disappear in India, as they do in many parts of the world. While some are genuinely separated from their families, like the five-year old boy above, others are kidnapped from bus stops and railway stations and homes and hospitals. While boys are abducted by those desperate for male offsprings, girls are often kidnapped and forced into the flesh trade. There is no official count of India’s missing children.

The separation or abduction of children is a recurrent plot theme in Indian films, particularly Hindi films made by Bollywood, which almost always have a happy ending.

It was for these reasons that A Stranger in the Family by Robert Barnard struck a chord with me. His main character, Kit Philipsons, is born Peter Novello in Leeds, England, kidnapped in Sicily when he is three, adopted and raised in Glasgow, Scotland, and returns to his biological family in Leeds at the age of twenty. 

The 250-odd page novel recounts the story of Kit and his quiet but desperate quest to find out who abducted him, while on a holiday in Sicily with his family, and why. The more Kit digs into his past, the murkier it gets, as he sees a sinister link between the Sicilian mafia, his kind and doting adoptive parents and their Jewish background in Nazi Germany, and his biological father, a lawyer by profession, who brands him as an impostor and an illegitimate.

To make matters worse, Kit’s sudden reappearance in Leeds results in a rift instead of a reunion with his biological family. While his birth mother, Isla, who has long separated from her husband, welcomes Kit with open arms, his siblings, two brothers and sister, are not quite happy as they would now have to divide the inheritance in four parts. Kit wants no share of the family wealth as his adoptive parents, Jürgen and Genevieve, have left him with plenty.

All Kit wants is the truth behind his kidnapping and in search of it he casts a wide net starting with the local police station in Leeds where he has frequent interviews with Sergeant Hargreaves who is sympathetic to his case. Kit meets people directly and indirectly connected with both his biological and adoptive family in the hope that he'll learn what exactly happened twenty years ago.

A Stranger in the Family is not strictly “a novel of suspense” as claimed but it has some elements of suspense. The story, as the title suggests, is self-explanatory. There is no serious character development. Instead, the author brings out the characteristics of the various players through speech and mannerism. There is a certain aloofness about Kit Philipsons and his interactions with people, most notably his birth family. His character doesn't touch a chord as much as his plight does. Robert Barnard's writing is simple but in no way is it ordinary. In fact, his style is one of the better aspects of the book.

A Stranger in the Family falls somewhere between literary fiction and a popular novel. The book is available for Kindle, at Amazon. Recommended.

Django Unchained (2012)

Quentin Tarantino was three years old when Django was released in 1966. The film seems to have made an impression on him. For, 46 years later, he made Django Unchained and recreated the coffin-dragging gunslinger from scratch. Except for raw courage, skill with a gun, and few lines, Jamie Foxx’s Django has little in common with Franco Nero’s Django, or the other spin-offs one of which had Terence Hill in the role. Tarantino paid his tribute to the original version by casting Nero in his film.

I missed Django Unchained when it came in the theatres last year. Then, last night, I watched a portion of the film on cable. It has all the hallmarks of a Tarantino film: bloody vendetta, insensate violence, intense dialogue, oodles of machismo, and shock treatment. I’m basing my opinion on the films I have seen, Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill 1 & 2, and Inglourious Basterds. Tarantino makes fewer movies but he makes them well. He can turn reason on its head and still be convincing. 

A few observations on Quentin Tarantino's racially charged film.

I thought casting Jamie Foxx as Django was a shrewd and a brilliant move. If you grew up watching Nero as Django, as I did, it’s a bit of a culture shock to see Foxx in the role which Denzel Washington apparently refused to do. Foxx, however, steps into Nero’s shoes without effort.

In the pre-Civil War days of slavery, coloured people are treated inhumanely. White men buy slaves and whip them into subjugation often pitting blacks against blacks. The brutality of it all is unsettling. For example, Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio in a villainous role), a rich and cruel planter who owns many slaves, is sitting on a sofa, smoking a cigar, and watching two men fight to the death. Either one must kill the other, the final blow coming from a hammer carelessly tossed by Candie. The bloody scene was cut, as stipulated by Indian television guidelines, but I knew what was coming next.

Between commercial breaks, we are told that DiCaprio was apprehensive about the strong racial overtone of the film and particularly his character and that Tarantino had to convince him of the need for some of the graphic scenes.

Elsewhere in the film, the mean and nasty Brittle brothers strip a black woman, tie her to a tree, and get ready to whip her when Django strides up to them and shoots two of the men at point blank range. In another scene, he lies prone on a small hill and momentarily grapples with his conscience before killing a man working the field with his son.

All the white men were wanted dead or alive with a bounty on their heads.

The bounty is collected by Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) who, ridiculous as it sounds, is a German dentist turned bounty hunter which is obviously a more lucrative occupation. Early in the film he buys Django’s freedom but instead of treating him like a slave, he befriends him and treats him as an equal and makes him his deputy. Together, they kill many wanted men. In return, Dr. Schultz agrees to help Django rescue his wife from slavery under Calvin Candie. This is the key part I missed.

Christoph Waltz and Jamie Foxx in Django Unchained.

I have read about slavery in America in the 18th and 19th centuries, leading up to the Civil War, but I don't know enough to understand it in the context of this film. For instance, while some slaves are treated like slaves, others are treated like normal people who wear fine clothes, move around freely, sit in the living rooms, and talk with their masters. I don't know how close white and black people were in those days but Dr. Schultz and Django share so friendly a relationship as to raise eyebrows. They ride in and out of towns and ranch homes without fear of being shot in the back. The bounty hunter spends lavishly on his friend, buying him a cowboy’s attire, guns, and a horse with a new saddle. Above all, Django shoots white men without fear of reprisals. Dr. Schultz defends himself and Django by brandishing ‘dead or alive’ notices for the men they kill. But did black men actually kill white men in cold blood?

These are some of the issues that left me a trifle confused. Historically, I don't know how close to the truth some of the scenes in the film are, even if some of them are exaggerated.

Django Unchained is an action-packed western shot in the backdrop of an emotive and sensitive issue like slavery and racism. I have been told not to take Tarantino's movies seriously and that the worth of his unconventional films lies in their entertainment value. This is true of Django Unchained which also hits a raw nerve unlike the other five movies I saw.

The songs of Bryan Adams

For a change an audio-video entry for Tuesday’s overlooked films, audio and video at Todd Mason’s blog Sweet Freedom. Don’t forget to watch the video at the bottom of this post.

There are many songs that have stayed with me since I first listened to them, beginning in mid-1970s. Foremost among these is Una Paloma Blanca (or Paloma Blanca, which means ‘white dove’ in Spanish) by Dutch musician George Baker. The single was released in 1975 by his band the George Baker Selection. It was sung at most parties and school picnics.

In fact, so popular was the song in India that my generation used to record it from a radio on to a cassette player, usually a National Panasonic (see picture). Those were wireless days. The two electronic systems were kept side by side and as soon as the radio jockey announced a popular number, we’d press down hard on the ‘Play’ and ‘Record’ buttons simultaneously and shush everyone in the vicinity, lest external voices lent an unwelcome chorus to the songs. Upon replay, we could occasionally hear the loud honk of a bus or the shrill whistle of a pressure cooker in the background. However, that did not spoil the pleasure of listening to the songs. Pre-recorded cassettes were expensive.

I haven't forgotten the music or the lyrics of Paloma Blanca, which partly went…

Una paloma blanca
I'm just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountains I fly
No one can take my freedom away

It’d make a nice soundtrack for a second film remake of Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

Paloma Blanca is one of several pop and country songs that I can lip sync well. Some others include Annie’s Song by John Denver, Nothing's Gonna Change My Love for You, first sung by George Benson and then by Glenn Medeiros, and Somebody by Bryan Adams.

Bryan Adams performs in Hamburg, Germany in June 2007.
© Wikimedia Commons

Somebody (1984) was the first Bryan Adams song I heard somewhere in the late eighties. At the time I didn’t know it was sung by the famous Canadian singer-musician who has been to India and is immensely popular. I found out only in the nineties. It was pretty much how I listened to music in those days. Just as I saw films without caring to know who directed them. The lyrics “I need somebody/Somebody like you/Everybody needs somebody” sung by Adams in his rich and raspy voice have remained with me since.

It was this bestselling single that prompted me to listen to Adams’ other songs, most notably Heaven (1985), (Everything I Do) I Do It for You (1991), and Please Forgive Me (1993). These four songs ruled on the US Billboard and the UK Singles Chart for a long time.

Everything I Do was, of course, made famous as the official video soundtrack of the film Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves starring Kevin Costner, Morgan Freeman, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, Christian Slater, and Alan Rickman. It was an entertaining film. The Kostner-Freeman catapult scene was funny.

I have not heard every song by Bryan Adams but out of the ones I have, these four songs I like the most. The official video of Please Forgive Me, from the album So Far So Good, is really nice, as much for the slow ballad as for the beautiful German Shepherd moving about in the recording studio. I believe the Alsatian belonged to Adams who is said to be fond of dogs. If you like pets, especially dogs, you'll enjoy the video below.