GRIZZLY PEAR
An exquisite pairing of surreal poetry with surreal watercolors.
Sendak’s haunting elegy for his brother.
The final book of a Master’s career.
I haven’t experienced loss to fully understand this book.
I’ll comprehend this book one day, life doesn’t let one escape so easily.
And if you exit unscathed, then others must bear the pain.
So I hope to grasp this book one day.
But let it be long away.
She enjoyed the trailer and this is one of her favorites from the Roald Dahl book set. We gave it a whirl on New Year’s Eve.
The girl closed 2022 by learning the hard truth that adaptations distort beloved stories. She expressed her dismay throughout the viewing. Expecting fidelity is a surefire path to disappointment.
I hadn’t read the book, so I thought it was fine. It was a welcome respite from the current Pixar aesthetic. The story and characters had a delightful edge (which Disney studiously avoids). I haven’t watched Wes Anderson before, but I now grok his reputation. I’d watch him again.
After the kids went to bed, I read the book. It’s a fun, quiet story. I get why my daughter felt let down.
We discussed it further on New Year’s Day —
The director added all that stuff to fill a 90 minute movie.
But why did he make these changes?
Those are plot devices to manufacture tension.
Were they necessary? The book was better.
I agree, but the mass market demands more excitement in their movies.
As a father, it hurts to feel her sense of betrayal. Then again, she’s embarking upon lifetime of disappointing movie adaptations.
Best that we got the initial shock out of the way, last year.
䷲䷚
last night
she reread
still prefers
the source
A four book series around the theme of family.
This theme is tuned perfectly with its audience.
At this age, the kids are realizing their individuality beyond us.
This family isn’t forever.
They will soon explore the outside world,
It won’t be easy —
Dangers lurk, both harsh and soft.
And there are rewards,
To find new friends,
Together create their own new worlds.
At home, the parents prescribe the horizon.
Soon (too soon!) they’ll fly away.
And one day,
Hopefully,
They’ll come home.
~
I came across this series via Le Guin’s No Time to Spare, an excellent collection of blog postings. This highlights my egregious oversight in never reading her before. Hopefully 2023 will be the year to dive into her work.
S. D. Schindler’s illustrations are delightful. It’s a shame that Overdrive only hosts the Catwing audiobooks. Hopefully they’ll get the digital rights in order so they can distribute the written books.
Thankfully, our library has copies of the physical books.
Exactly as advertised.
Chapter One: Do the work (and give the subconscious room to do its work).
Chapter Two: Don’t rush into a hasty decision (get comfortable in the discomfort of creation). Play with the problem (create space to avoid distractions).
An appendix of miscellany.
That’s it.
Short and cheerful.
Brilliant in its brevity.
As a connoisseur of self-help manuals, I proclaim Creativity a classic.
(I immediately purchased my own copy — can I recommend it any higher?)
䷨䷕
This was recommended in an conversation about bloated self help books. It was brought up as an antidote to Cal Newport’s Deep Work. They were right. Cleese is quick and light. A joy to read.
If you’re a fan of Man’s Search for Meaning, then this book is a required sequel.
You won’t dig it as much.
It doesn’t have the power of the original.
Nothing can match his narrative of life in concentration camps.
That’s why this book is so important as a follow up.
This book is technical theory.
A polemic for Logotherapy and Existential Analysis.
Boring is the point.
If you buy his philosophy, then the belief should survive a much dryer accounting.
On my end, I don’t know.
I can’t knock it — anything that survives Auschwitz is worth consideration.
It’s certainly truthy.
But is it true?
I’ll leave that to professional psychologists and philosophers.
䷶
I appreciate that Frankl drew a distinction between theology and psychiatry.
In our soup of competing totalizing theories, I respect someone who is humble enough to prescribe limits around his own discipline.
Like most sequels, these books are nice, but underwhelming.
The Washington book on politics was downright depressing. It’s important to examine the sophistry of politicians, but it’s hard to laugh about misdirection in the service of power plays in the face of rising authoritarianism and a war in Europe.
With my recent interest in aging and death, I had higher expectations about Pearly Gates, but it didn’t add much to the conversation. Maybe I’ve been over-exposed to the subject with my recent readings.
Both are worth checking out if you really liked Plato and a Platypus, but don’t go in with high expectations.
䷒䷊
I doubt I’ll revisit Washington (too depressing) but I might relisten Pearly Gates to see what I missed.
Midlife is a strange time. Major decisions have been made, and with kids the focus has been switched towards preparing for their wild problems.
But we’re not old! We’re caught in a predetermined present, experiencing physical decline, playing out the decisions of the past, while dimly peering towards decades of an uncertain future.
So how we manage? The book starts with contemplations upon regret (fully acknowledging that much “regret” in affluent countries are #firstworldproblems). Then Setiya ponders how to best consider about our mortality and closes with a chapter about life beyond goals.
When young, we pursue projects for specific results. Get that degree, grab that job! The paradox of such pursuits is that accomplishing the goal kills the goal. I often felt such emptiness after final reviews. A killer presentation is better than failure (I’ve done that too) but still left lingering hollow emptiness. All for what? On to the next semester.
Accomplishments are critical in the pursuit of prosperity (there is almost little income benefit between a high school graduate and a 3-year college dropout). Crossing the next check box can’t be all there is, especially now that the ultimate checkpoint is visible in the far horizon.
Setiya brings up the concept of “atelic activities“. Activities for their own reward. Walking for the joy of taking a stroll (not just getting to point B). Reframe one’s hassles with kids from specific tasks (cooking, cleaning, training) to the generic atelic act of parenting (easier said than done!).
Live in the present.
I’ve noticed this shift in my reading. I used to devour business books, searching for nuggets to improve productivity and leadership skills. But I’m now closer to retirement than hand drafting in Berkeley. The ROI has waned and this homo economicus has turned away from consuming productive fare.
My bed stand currently has two books of poetry, a book on philosophy, and a photo monograph. Hell, instead of reading last night, I listened fifteen minutes of Sunday at the Village Vanguard.
Midlife might not be pretty, but that’s pretty cool.
䷠䷋
I enjoyed the book, listening to it twice before writing these notes. Setiya dives into deep topics but writes accessibly for a popular audience. He knows he’s in the self help genre and respects that we aren’t his academic colleagues.
This book is worth reading well before breaking into your forties. It’s good to get some advance warning on the foibles of the upcoming decades. Just like my recommendation to read Travels with Epicurus to folks my age.
I’ve recently become a big Daniel Klein fan so I borrowed this book without much thought.
Turns out that it dovetails perfectly into my current kick of learning about the phases of life, especially aging and death.
The book is a meditation on growing old. It makes sense that a countercultural philosophy student from the 60’s would question our current obsession on everlasting youth.
The “Travels” in the title is a stretch — he stays on just one Greek island. But the “Epicurus” part is dead on. Klein is clearly biased towards the gentle hedonism of the philosopher and sees it reflected in world view of the inhabitants on this island.
He shys away from the gnarly parts right before you expire, but the book is otherwise a fulsome exploration of that season of life when one is no longer young but not yet decrepit.
䷌䷷
Seems that I’ve developed a syllabus of self-help books for the arc of one’s life.
I listened to this book a few months ago and listened to it again after Richard Rohr’s Falling Upwards.
While Rohr book is explicitly spiritual, Brooks stays within the contemporary self-help genre. He mixes psychology, social studies, ecumenical spirituality, with some actionable exercises.
Having listened to this book twice, here are some key takeaways:
A formula for a life of satisfaction is “What-you-have (Divided By) What-you-want”. Unchecked desires will always outpace what you’ve earned, so controlling wants is the key to satisfaction. Acquisition will never lead to happiness.
Thomas Aquinas has a challenge to search for one’s idols – Money, Status, Pleasure, and Power over others. Rank them in attractiveness and the top item is your idol. Tread carefully when toying with your personal idol.
As we get older, our quick witted “fluid intelligence” gives way to plodding “crystalized intelligence”. We used to quickly flip through the Rolodex. Now we’re slower, but the mental phone book is much bigger. Instead of fighting the inevitable, we should change our work to fit our older brains.
We should consider the Hindu concept of Ashramas, the Four Stages of Life (about 25 years each). Start as a child (student), then a householder (prime earning years), hermit (when the grandkids arrive, retreat into wisdom), and finally the wandering ascetic (give everything up for the divine). Most strivers get stuck between the second and third phase. Refusing to enter the hermit phase leads to bitterness as the world leaves you behind.
To grossly oversimplify the book, Brooks closes with this seven word summary
Use things, love people, worship the divine.
This book was worth two listens, but I must admit that audiobooks are a multi-tasking form of consumption. Even though it’s a favorite listen of the year, I haven’t felt compelled to sit down and focus upon the text.
So, a qualified endorsement for us middle aged folks figuring out “what’s next?”
~
I tweaked my upper back a month ago and a coworker brought up the idea of getting a foam roller. I missed out on this fad over the past decade. Its like having your own personal masseuse. Not perfect, but for $17.13 it’s awesome!
Here is a video focused on the upper back, and another that included stretches for the armpits.
As counterpoint, here is a video that questions the efficacy of foam rolling. My takeaway: use the foam roller as a stretching tool, but don’t overdo it. (The channel’s explanation of fentanyl addiction is excellent and depressing.)
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Justus Pang, RA
This book is hard (though not as difficult as The Five Invitations).
We’ve entered a new phase in humanity where most of us will suffer an extended period of dying. Medicine most likely won’t let us just keel over on the sidewalk.
We need to plan on navigating a harsh decline as time slowly eats away at our bodies.
The book explores this new phenomena, how we’ve dealt with it in the past century, and proposes better ways for managing our final days.
Ultimately it’s an upbeat book about a dreadful subject.
Though it’s gonna take some hard work to make it happen.
䷧
“A Better Life” (chapter 5) is one of the most inspiring things I’ve read as an architect. It’s a full throated endorsement that small improvements to an environment can improve lives. But as an owner, I am now keenly aware of the operational constraints push against such initiatives. Tellingly, it was a doctor who proposed (and realized) the changes that greatly improved patient outcomes. If we want to stay relevant as an industry, we can’t settle for being as service providers. Effective architecture is not just designing the structure, but challenging the entire system.