Books 2010: and fragile outcomes
Oct. 23rd, 2010 09:14 pmBooks 2010: 122-124
nonfiction
122. Theocritus, Idylls. Translated by Anthony Verity, Oxford, 2002.
A collection of the boukolika ("ox-herding poems") of Theocritus of Syracuse, with an introduction by Richard Hunter. Theocritus, who stands contemporary with the rise of the post-Alexandrian Greek kingdoms of the Hellenistic period - it is doubtful whether he actually met either of the kings for whom he wrote panegyric, though more probable that he met Hiero of Syracuse than Ptolemy Philadelphos - has often been referred to as a model for later bucolic poetry.
Not being a literary sort, I make no remark on this. His preoccupations are interesting, however, and one of his patrons was a certain doctor, Nicias by name, which means my reading of his poems has born at least a little fruit, in terms of research. And the poems, although with a handful of exceptions rather relentlessly pastoral, are not altogether unpleasant.
Very Greek, but actually, quite pretty.
123. Marc Morris, A Great and Terrible King: Edward I and the Forging of Britain, Windmill, London, 2008.
A biography of Edward I, crusader, victor in civil war, conqueror of Wales, temporary conqueror of Scotland, ruler of Gascony, who lived an extraordinary long and active life (1239-1307, reigned 1272-1307).
Morris writes fluently and integrates his sources well, and while I'm sensible enough of my ignorance in matters medieval to know I can in no way criticise his scholarship, it feels sound. He advances no specific thesis, which is actually something of a relief: it's quite nice to read a biography that does not seem to be trying to prove a particular point.
124. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, The Turkish Embassy Letters, Virago, London, 1994. With an introduction by Anita Desai.
In 1716, Lady Mary set out with her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, who had been appointed as English Ambassador to the Turks. Her letters are a vivid, if fragmentary, picture of her travels until her return to England late in 1718.
A fascinating vivid picture, particularly as Lady Mary is herself unfortunately typical of the attitudes of her times. In her letters, she displays remarkably little prejudice towards the upper classes, even those separated from her world by the vast gulf of culture and religion. On the other hand, the lower orders are very much beneath her, and her class-conscious racist view of the world is - well. Let us be glad as to how much time has passed since the eighteenth century, even as we despair as to how far we have yet to go.
I would dearly like for my headache to go away now. No? No.
I guess it's time to get back to the boring slog of Real Work, anyway.
nonfiction
122. Theocritus, Idylls. Translated by Anthony Verity, Oxford, 2002.
A collection of the boukolika ("ox-herding poems") of Theocritus of Syracuse, with an introduction by Richard Hunter. Theocritus, who stands contemporary with the rise of the post-Alexandrian Greek kingdoms of the Hellenistic period - it is doubtful whether he actually met either of the kings for whom he wrote panegyric, though more probable that he met Hiero of Syracuse than Ptolemy Philadelphos - has often been referred to as a model for later bucolic poetry.
Not being a literary sort, I make no remark on this. His preoccupations are interesting, however, and one of his patrons was a certain doctor, Nicias by name, which means my reading of his poems has born at least a little fruit, in terms of research. And the poems, although with a handful of exceptions rather relentlessly pastoral, are not altogether unpleasant.
Very Greek, but actually, quite pretty.
123. Marc Morris, A Great and Terrible King: Edward I and the Forging of Britain, Windmill, London, 2008.
A biography of Edward I, crusader, victor in civil war, conqueror of Wales, temporary conqueror of Scotland, ruler of Gascony, who lived an extraordinary long and active life (1239-1307, reigned 1272-1307).
Morris writes fluently and integrates his sources well, and while I'm sensible enough of my ignorance in matters medieval to know I can in no way criticise his scholarship, it feels sound. He advances no specific thesis, which is actually something of a relief: it's quite nice to read a biography that does not seem to be trying to prove a particular point.
124. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, The Turkish Embassy Letters, Virago, London, 1994. With an introduction by Anita Desai.
In 1716, Lady Mary set out with her husband, Edward Wortley Montagu, who had been appointed as English Ambassador to the Turks. Her letters are a vivid, if fragmentary, picture of her travels until her return to England late in 1718.
A fascinating vivid picture, particularly as Lady Mary is herself unfortunately typical of the attitudes of her times. In her letters, she displays remarkably little prejudice towards the upper classes, even those separated from her world by the vast gulf of culture and religion. On the other hand, the lower orders are very much beneath her, and her class-conscious racist view of the world is - well. Let us be glad as to how much time has passed since the eighteenth century, even as we despair as to how far we have yet to go.
I would dearly like for my headache to go away now. No? No.
I guess it's time to get back to the boring slog of Real Work, anyway.