‘Lingotto’ By Mario Merz


I have no idea who Mario Merz is (though I suppose I could look him), but I loved this piece. Maybe I couldn’t even tell you why.

I finally visited the fully renovated East Wing of the National Gallery of Art. They added a lot of useful gallery space and I give whole thing an unreserved thumbs on for practical improvements. For some reason, though, I was in a mood to see paintings by the time I got there. Not just paintings, but traditional paintings. Nineteenth century landscapes with ruins and picturesque peasants. You know the type.

But was making a good faith effort to walk through the galleries and I came out of one space and into another and Lingotto was directly opposite the doorway I passed through and I was instantly struck by a my own little Stendahl episode. There was just something about it. Maybe the ritualistic aspect, the shrine-like quality. But I was just amazed.

Schadenfreude


I’m fighting it. I’m fighting it as hard as I can.

I don’t actually want family and friends who voted for Trump to lose their healthcare. There are many people I care about who, through some kind of willful denial, refuse to acknowledge that they are able get to insurance (and through the insurance, healthcare) through the Affordable Care Act (ACA).

I don’t want them to lose their insurance when (if? maybe) the ACA is repealed (without, I can guarantee, a replacement that will cover them).

But, I can’t fight the fact that I’m more concerned about the people who didn’t vote for Trump who will lose it and that I will shed more tears for them.

‘Waiting’ By Ha Jin


waitingThough short, Waiting moves slowly, working by accretion. Changes and revelations are not stated, except towards the end, but that doesn’t it stop from lovingly, subtly depicting the changes that occurred in China between the sixties and eighties.

The title comes from an unambitious doctor waiting to be able to divorce his wife (a peasant; the marriage having been arranged by his parents) so that he can marry his girlfriend. He’s finally able to… but only after eighteen years (a complicated quirk, apparently, of the law at the time).

The revelation is that the protagonist, Lin, is passive and he starts conversing with himself, suggesting that he waited for so long (no sex, incidentally) because it was easier than actually being with another person (in a real, paired up relationship).

But it is more about the small details about life and the passage of time. Events that I, as an outsider, assume to be earth shattering, like the Cultural Revolution, hardly happened for them in their military hospital serving a mid-sized city.

Holiday Reading…


…has so far been weighted more towards trashy than classy.

Trashy has included Deryni Rising, by Katherine Kurtz, who is a name I’ve seen a lot, as a fan of fantasy, but have never read. It’s high fantasy in western medieval setting. A first novel (though written and published before I was born) and it shows. Characters are thinly sketched, but the potential is there. The entire novel takes place in a small geographic area and at least half of it takes place over thirty-six hours or so, which I as good sign – an attempt to do something a little different, as well as something focused on internal politics. That said, still needed some ‘seasoning.’ Also, there were characters known merely as ‘Moors’ who all work for bad guys and get exactly zero additional characterization, which I would suggest is borderline racist, if it weren’t so obviously fully racist.

Michael Moorcock has earned some literary cred, but he also wrote a lot of trash. Fun trash, but trash. Of his interlocking, slightly revisionist, high fantasy novels, the original Elric stories are, without doubt, the best. And the novels of Dorian Hawkmoon are, beyond a doubt, among the worst. Which makes the number of times I have read those novels inexplicable. And makes reading the original tetralogy again, during my holiday, incomprehensible. Hawkmoon, as a character, is boring (though on his companions, Huillam D’Averc, is, if thinly drawn, at least interesting and fun), the post-apocalyptic world of science and sorcery is not nearly as clever nor as relevant as Moorcock clearly believes.


But, at least I read the latest edition of Foreign Affairs. Too bad it was about how Trump is going to blow up the liberal order of progress and justice-based structures. So, um… yay! I read something worthwhile!

‘On Interpretation’ By Aristotle


It was shorter than I had expected (the volume contains three book: Catergories, On Interpretation, and Prior Analytics). Which, you might say, that is good. But maybe it is actually not good (or not-good, which you might also translate as bad), because it means that Prior Analytics will be longer and I’m a little scared.

So this middle volume hinges on that ‘good,’ ‘not good,’ and ‘not-good’ thing mentioned earlier. And contradictories and contraries and how they do and do not match up (or if they do; in at least one instance, the conclusion to the book felt inconclusive on that subject). I remembered a good bit from college: some are, all are, none are, some are not, etc. I’d brush up, but that old college textbook on my shelf is possibly more intimidating.

Tao Te Ching


To be totally honest, by the time I reached the last half, for reasons unrelated to Lao Tze’s wisdom, I just wasn’t in the mood to digest his guidance. I was more in a mood to be moody.

But a couple of times, I was still pulled up short by the Tao. A line about attacking by surprise during warfare that could have come from (or was cribbed by Sun Tzu). Recommendations on rulership that read like the subtext to Machiavelli’s true goals. And certainly, ‘sage’ is on my list of ideal jobs.