"I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness, I want sin."
Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, along with George Orwell's 1984, remain the two cornerstones of 20th century dystopian future, with each having a very different take on the horror that the modern world could progress to. Brave New World's future is a sterile one, with consumerism and comfort being emphasised whilst "smut" such as religion and family life is banned, the words themselves reduced to crude obscenities. In this world everything is mass produced, including people, and Henry Ford, proponent of the assembly line and the father of mass production, is revered as a kind of god.
The novel opens with a description of the "Central London Hatchery" in which eggs are fertilised by machines and the perfect amount of people of varying intelligence are created to maintain the current population of the planet. From this introduction the story turns to Bernard Marx, a man whose lacklustre appearance has led to him being a social outcast, which in turn has made him question the society of subliminal messaging and meaningless entertainment in which he lives. Bernard's friend Helmholtz Watson also questions the system, not because he has any physical deficiency but rather mental excess, and throughout the novel Bernard's put upon, self pitying attitude is contrasted with the genuine philosophical curiosity of Helmholtz. The third major character is John, a man who has grown up on a reservation for "natives" and as such has no knowledge of advanced society, instead living in a kind of tribe in New Mexico, safely fenced off from the outside world.
Whilst most Science Fiction novels have a character who does not understand the world they are in, in order to allow the author to indirectly explain how things work to the reader (such as Arthur Dent in The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy) Huxley instead introduces John late enough in the novel that his ignorance is not the readers ignorance. Concepts such as "Obstacle Golf", "feelies" and "soma" have already been introduced to the reader, which serves to highlight the incredulous attitude of those who come into contact with this peculiar native who has no knowledge of the modern world. Having said this, those living within society have no knowledge of Shakespeare or religion, and consider marriage, monogamy and intimacy disgusting and obscene concepts. This cultural clash is brought to a head when a woman called Lenina, conditioned from birth to have as many sexual partners as possible, attempts to sleep with John, horrifying him. In a panic, he resists her advances, frantically quoting passages from Shakespeare before struggling free and fleeing.
Brave New World hits home because of its fundamentally human characters, with the tragic figure of John, trying desperately to find meaning in a meaningless world that treats him as no more than an amusing curiosity, being the most hard hitting of them all. The world itself also manages to be even more disquieting than that of 1984 as it is a hyperbolic version of our own, a nightmare of meaningless pleasure and enforced consumerism made all the more real by just how easy it is to imagine. The majority of readers will side with John's idea that freedom, art and pain are superior to meaningless comfort, but explaining why is something that both he and the reader may find harder to pin down.
Monday, 2 February 2015
Friday, 26 December 2014
Novel: The Catcher in the Rye
The Catcher in the Rye is American writer J.D.Salinger's most famous work, the controversial story of 3 days in the life of Holden Caulfield, a seventeen year old boy who also narrates the book, addressing the reader directly throughout. A modern day coming of age novel, the book is often derided for appealing to the pretentious child who has just discovered the cultural capital a book can bestow, more a prop for the pocket of a jacket than true literature, with reasons pointed to including the supposed lack of a 'moral' or 'message' and the subversive nature of the text.To properly address the criticisms levelled at the would be time consuming and pointless, and what is below is my personal reasons for enjoying the book, rather than a point by point rebuttal to those who don't.
The Catcher in the Rye hinges on its central character, told as it is from the first person perspective, with heavy use of colloquialism and slang. this choice to frame the book as an almost autobiographical work of the fictional protagonist contributes greatly to its lasting appeal, with the style of Caulfield being unique and endlessly memorable. this personal touch can be seen from Holden's dismissal of the majority of humanity as "phonies" to his joyful exaggeration of feeling that manages to capture the teenage mindset in a way no author has managed before or since. Indeed at the moment when Holden arbitrarily decides that he doesn't want to visit the museum he's been extolling the virtues of for almost an entire chapter he simply says "all of a sudden I wouldn't have gone inside for a million bucks" an irrational mood swing that anybody who can recall their teenage years will be able to empathise with infinitely. This creation of a living, breathing character is the secret to The Catcher in the Rye's enduring appeal, as whilst the reader may not be able to identify with the world of prep schools, record buying and picture houses Salinger so masterfully creates it's impossible not to identify with the bewildered, jaded, cynical and undeniably human 17 year old kid he places into this world.
Many who dismiss the book have levelled the criticism that its problem is that Caulfield is just not likeable enough, pointing out that he is often selfish, rude and rebellious, but this is exactly the point. The protagonist is at times unlikeable because he is a 17 year old boy, and what 17 year old boy have we ever known, or indeed been, who has not been full of themselves, stubborn and annoying? In crafting an accurate picture of a teenager Salinger has crafted a character that everyone should be able to empathise with, not because he is like us now, but because he is like we were once, The Catcher in the Rye does not seek to tell a story, it seeks to create a character. In short the 3 days in Holden Caulfield's life are not interesting because of what happens, but because of who they happen to, and therein lies the true genius of this great American novel.
Tuesday, 7 October 2014
Novel: Player Piano
"a step backward, after making a wrong turn, is a step in the right direction.”
Player Piano was Kurt Vonnegut's first published novel, and is set in the factory town of Ilium, New York in the near future. In this future scientists and engineers have created machines that now do the vast majority of tasks, leaving most people to either work for the reconstruction and reclamation corps or the army, neither of which serve a purpose besides occupying those who would otherwise be unemployed. Those who do have meaningful jobs by and large oversee the work of machines, which is the position that protagonist Paul Proteus is in when the novel opens. Whilst Proteus' future is bright and he outwardly seems to believe in the society in which he takes part he feels a growing sense of unease with the pointlessness of it all and the alienation of the common man, yearning for some way to break free. When an old friend, Ed Finnerty, comes to see Paul and announces he has left his job it sends Paul towards a revolutionary struggle against the system in a manner more than slightly reminiscent of Huxley's Brave New World.
Whilst the plot may not be original Vonnegut's inimitable style and the slightly closer to home setting of the novel turn it into a very different creature, acting more as a social satire than a heartfelt cry against the system. The machines in Player Piano are still punch card operated and it is not set in a future too far removed from the time when the book was published (1952), leading to a setting less detached from reality than many dystopian novels achieve, which lends weight to the sometimes irreverent style of the novel. The supporting characters are just as three dimensional as Proteus himself, with his wife and their relationship seeming truly plausible and human, and the feeling of despair and rootlessness that Proteus seems to feel resonate strongly with the reader, again helping to stop the book being simply a dry social commentary and instead making it a truly gripping story.
Player Piano is not nearly as polished as Vonnegut's later work, such as Slaughterhouse five, with a side story involving the Shah of a foreign country seeming particularly out of place, but all in all it holds up incredibly well and makes an interesting addition to the genre of dystopian fiction. By the end of the novel Player Piano Seems not to be anti-technology or anti-progress, but rather anti-stupidity, as only Vonnegut could envision.
Player Piano was Kurt Vonnegut's first published novel, and is set in the factory town of Ilium, New York in the near future. In this future scientists and engineers have created machines that now do the vast majority of tasks, leaving most people to either work for the reconstruction and reclamation corps or the army, neither of which serve a purpose besides occupying those who would otherwise be unemployed. Those who do have meaningful jobs by and large oversee the work of machines, which is the position that protagonist Paul Proteus is in when the novel opens. Whilst Proteus' future is bright and he outwardly seems to believe in the society in which he takes part he feels a growing sense of unease with the pointlessness of it all and the alienation of the common man, yearning for some way to break free. When an old friend, Ed Finnerty, comes to see Paul and announces he has left his job it sends Paul towards a revolutionary struggle against the system in a manner more than slightly reminiscent of Huxley's Brave New World.
Whilst the plot may not be original Vonnegut's inimitable style and the slightly closer to home setting of the novel turn it into a very different creature, acting more as a social satire than a heartfelt cry against the system. The machines in Player Piano are still punch card operated and it is not set in a future too far removed from the time when the book was published (1952), leading to a setting less detached from reality than many dystopian novels achieve, which lends weight to the sometimes irreverent style of the novel. The supporting characters are just as three dimensional as Proteus himself, with his wife and their relationship seeming truly plausible and human, and the feeling of despair and rootlessness that Proteus seems to feel resonate strongly with the reader, again helping to stop the book being simply a dry social commentary and instead making it a truly gripping story.
Player Piano is not nearly as polished as Vonnegut's later work, such as Slaughterhouse five, with a side story involving the Shah of a foreign country seeming particularly out of place, but all in all it holds up incredibly well and makes an interesting addition to the genre of dystopian fiction. By the end of the novel Player Piano Seems not to be anti-technology or anti-progress, but rather anti-stupidity, as only Vonnegut could envision.
Sunday, 20 July 2014
Album: Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids (Self Titled)
"Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids are really neat. But my father wants them to stop cruising in our neighbourhood."
Flash Cadillac were an American Rock 'n' Roll band formed in 1969 and most famous for their portrayal of Herbie and the Heartbeats in the film American Graffiti. Flash Cadillac fused their classic 50's Rock 'n' roll sound with the popular Surf style that came afterwards and the result is a sound that departs from the classic sound of artists such as Jerry Lee Lewis and Eddie Cochran whilst still remaining true to the foundations that these legends put down. The first song is an upbeat cover of the country classic Mule Skinner Blues, which tells the tale of a man looking for work, hoping to earn a "Dollar a day". In the Cadillac's version however, this story takes a back seat to the punchy rhythm and variety of strange noises singer Flash accompanies the music with. this opener sets the tone of the album, a classic base from which the band pushes outward, with the finished song sounding as distinctive as if the Cadillacs had written it themselves.
From this country cover the band move on to an original composition named Reputation, A classic fast paced Rock 'N' Roll song about a man's turbulent love life, held together by an unmistakable guitar riff and making use of the Summertime Blues classic Deep voiced authority figure who warns "you better be no later than one, son". Coming straight after the excellent cover of Mule Skinner Blues you could be forgiven for thinking that Reputation was another tribute, so much does it sound like it was ripped straight from Rock 'n' Roll's golden age.
The third song, Crying in the Rain is a slower paced affair and not nearly as impressive as the opening two, seeming to drag despite being under two and a half minutes long. Whilst not terrible by any means Crying in the Rain seems to be Flash Cadillac's attempt at a classic love song, complete with backing vocals singing "shalalala", but rather than a sincere story of heartbreak it comes across more as a cheesy and lacklustre ballad, lacking a recognisable chorus or guitar riff to pull it together.
Luckily the record soon picks up again, with the fourth and fifth tracks, Teenage Eyes and Betty Lou once again showing what the band are capable of, with both having catchy lyrics and memorable piano and guitar parts to back them up. Betty Lou's call and response "Betty Lou, Betty Lou" evokes images of the classic American teen romance, whilst still managing to feel fresh and distinct from the myriad other songs written on the same subject.
Rounding off the first side is a cover of the instrumental track Pipeline, which, whilst enjoyable , is not a memorable enough interpretation to set it above the other covers of the song, or indeed the original.
Moving onto side two and the opener She's so Fine, featured in the film American Graffiti. Owing a lot more to the surf sound of bands such as the Beach Boys than it does to the Rock 'n' Roll sound present on the first side of the album, one wonders if this is due to the input of the film-makers or a choice by the band. Whilst this would normally be quite jarring, putting the song on the beginning of side two stops this feeling of discontinuity and the song itself is one of the better to be made after the genre's heyday in the early 60's.
Tell Him No, a plea from the singer for a girl to reject another man, is good but largely forgettable, and one gets the feeling that The Cadillacs had run out of ideas at this point in the album. This feeling is short lived however, and swiftly dispelled by the thumping bass and catchy vocals of the next track Nothin' for Me, a kind of reverse love song in which Flash sings "You're not the only fish in the sea".
This is definitely the standout track of side two, with the following songs lapsing back into the routine of a traditional Rock 'n' Roll song (You Gotta Rock) and Endless Sleep, a forgettable love song, albeit with a menacing guitar sound that does its best to pull the rest of the song up from mediocrity, and almost, but not quite, succeeds.
Ending the album is Up on the Mountain, A fast paced track about a man whose wife ran away with all his money. Again showing just how good Flash Cadillac can be, the song combines good lyrics with recognisable riffs and a bassline that ties the song together, resulting in a Rock 'n' Roll sound that evokes the feeling of the 50's, whilst still being unmistakably theirs.
A link to the full album can be found below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIMp0plM0_g
A link to the full album can be found below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIMp0plM0_g
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
Novel: Dance Dance Dance
'Mediocrity is like a spot on your shirt, it never comes off.'
Dance Dance Dance Is a novel by Japanese author Haruki Murakami, first published in 1988. It follows the life of an unnamed narrator as he struggles to make sense of the world around him, and his place within it. Combining a cast of offbeat characters with a world that frequently comes across as unsettling and grim results in possibly the darkest of Murakami's books, but also one of the best, yo-yoing from gripping to disquieting and back again in the space of a few pages, yet managing to be incredibly entertaining throughout.
The world of Dance Dance Dance seems to take aspects of the genre of magical realism, weaving ordinary events with plot devices that would be impossible in the real world. This does not detract from the novel however, with each new impossibility being presented into the book as if it belongs there, with even the bemused narrator accepting such oddities as a clairvoyant 13 year old, or another world accessed through the lift of an expensive hotel. While these concepts seem ridiculous, their placement in a book that is otherwise firmly rooted in reality reduces this improbability, until by the end of the book the reader accepts such concepts as matter of fact, rather than out of place, ultimately enhancing the feel of subtle unease that pervades the text.
The story itself plays out as a series of forking paths, with each being visited in turn, it isn't that there is no coherent plot, but more that this plot is often sidelined in favour of such events as a detour to Hawaii, or a rendezvous with a call-girl. It is to Murakami's credit than none of these deviations seem frivolous or unnecessary, and the way in which he manages to link the vast majority of these unconnected events by the end of the novel is nothing short of masterful, with the reader at no point feeling lost or frustrated. The ever present narrator is the main method by which these seemingly unrelated scenes are brought together, and by the end of the novel one feels close enough to the unnamed protagonist that his experiences truly seem to matter.
If there's one criticism of Dance Dance Dance it is that at times the pacing does seem to be inconsistent, with one scene in a police station dragging on for longer than necessary, but this is a small and infrequent complaint, and does not detract from the overall brilliance of the Novel. the book seems to be written by the author, for the author, yet gives the reader a well crafted window into another's perspective. To quote the narrator 'I don't give a damn about what people say. They can be reptile food for all I care'. It is precisely this attitude that makes Dance Dance Dance such a pleasure to read.
Dance Dance Dance Is a novel by Japanese author Haruki Murakami, first published in 1988. It follows the life of an unnamed narrator as he struggles to make sense of the world around him, and his place within it. Combining a cast of offbeat characters with a world that frequently comes across as unsettling and grim results in possibly the darkest of Murakami's books, but also one of the best, yo-yoing from gripping to disquieting and back again in the space of a few pages, yet managing to be incredibly entertaining throughout.
The world of Dance Dance Dance seems to take aspects of the genre of magical realism, weaving ordinary events with plot devices that would be impossible in the real world. This does not detract from the novel however, with each new impossibility being presented into the book as if it belongs there, with even the bemused narrator accepting such oddities as a clairvoyant 13 year old, or another world accessed through the lift of an expensive hotel. While these concepts seem ridiculous, their placement in a book that is otherwise firmly rooted in reality reduces this improbability, until by the end of the book the reader accepts such concepts as matter of fact, rather than out of place, ultimately enhancing the feel of subtle unease that pervades the text.
The story itself plays out as a series of forking paths, with each being visited in turn, it isn't that there is no coherent plot, but more that this plot is often sidelined in favour of such events as a detour to Hawaii, or a rendezvous with a call-girl. It is to Murakami's credit than none of these deviations seem frivolous or unnecessary, and the way in which he manages to link the vast majority of these unconnected events by the end of the novel is nothing short of masterful, with the reader at no point feeling lost or frustrated. The ever present narrator is the main method by which these seemingly unrelated scenes are brought together, and by the end of the novel one feels close enough to the unnamed protagonist that his experiences truly seem to matter.
If there's one criticism of Dance Dance Dance it is that at times the pacing does seem to be inconsistent, with one scene in a police station dragging on for longer than necessary, but this is a small and infrequent complaint, and does not detract from the overall brilliance of the Novel. the book seems to be written by the author, for the author, yet gives the reader a well crafted window into another's perspective. To quote the narrator 'I don't give a damn about what people say. They can be reptile food for all I care'. It is precisely this attitude that makes Dance Dance Dance such a pleasure to read.
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Film: Midnight in Paris
"That's what the present is. It's a little unsatisfying because life is unsatisfying."
Midnight in Paris is a 2010 film directed by Woody Allen, set in Paris and focusing on a young Hollywood hack named Gil (played by Owen Wilson) as he attempts to write his first true novel, whilst also dealing with his increasingly rocky relationship. The writing of the novel serves more as a mechanism by which to move the plot forward than the centrepoint it first seems, but this proves to be no bad thing once the film gets going. I say this because the first twenty minutes of Midnight in Paris set the scene for a far different movie to the one that actually plays out, introducing a looming wedding and cracks in the relationship, both of which seem to point towards a more standard romcom type plot than that which actually unfolds.
This assumption is proven wrong during the middle of the first act when the passenger of a 1920's era car pulls up alongside Wilson and motions him inside, handing him a flute of champagne and introducing him to the other occupants of the vehicle. Amongst the passengers of the car are F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, who spirit Wilson's character away to the 1920's heyday that he's always dreamed of living in. It is at this point that the film truly hits its stride, not in the story told but in the pantheon of famous figures introduced to Wilson, including Hemingway, Picasso and Dali (the latter expertly portrayed by Adrian Brody), all wrapped up in a cautionary tale of the dangers of nostalgia.
The story itself is not bad by any means, but in trying to make Gil likeable Allen seems to make the mistake of simply making every other modern day character grating and jaded. Whilst this does the job of making the viewer immediately root for the young writer following his dreams it also results in some modern day scenes dragging on, especially in contrast with the beautifully portrayed and acted world of the 1920's. Added to this is a rather contrived ending that seems tacked on simply to adhere to the Hollywood rule that the main character's life must be perfect by the time the credits roll. Overall Midnight in Paris is not perfect by any means, but is pushed from average to good by the superb depictions of jazz age figures and the inherant likeability of Wilson's character.
Midnight in Paris is a 2010 film directed by Woody Allen, set in Paris and focusing on a young Hollywood hack named Gil (played by Owen Wilson) as he attempts to write his first true novel, whilst also dealing with his increasingly rocky relationship. The writing of the novel serves more as a mechanism by which to move the plot forward than the centrepoint it first seems, but this proves to be no bad thing once the film gets going. I say this because the first twenty minutes of Midnight in Paris set the scene for a far different movie to the one that actually plays out, introducing a looming wedding and cracks in the relationship, both of which seem to point towards a more standard romcom type plot than that which actually unfolds.
This assumption is proven wrong during the middle of the first act when the passenger of a 1920's era car pulls up alongside Wilson and motions him inside, handing him a flute of champagne and introducing him to the other occupants of the vehicle. Amongst the passengers of the car are F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, who spirit Wilson's character away to the 1920's heyday that he's always dreamed of living in. It is at this point that the film truly hits its stride, not in the story told but in the pantheon of famous figures introduced to Wilson, including Hemingway, Picasso and Dali (the latter expertly portrayed by Adrian Brody), all wrapped up in a cautionary tale of the dangers of nostalgia.
The story itself is not bad by any means, but in trying to make Gil likeable Allen seems to make the mistake of simply making every other modern day character grating and jaded. Whilst this does the job of making the viewer immediately root for the young writer following his dreams it also results in some modern day scenes dragging on, especially in contrast with the beautifully portrayed and acted world of the 1920's. Added to this is a rather contrived ending that seems tacked on simply to adhere to the Hollywood rule that the main character's life must be perfect by the time the credits roll. Overall Midnight in Paris is not perfect by any means, but is pushed from average to good by the superb depictions of jazz age figures and the inherant likeability of Wilson's character.
Monday, 21 April 2014
Novel: The Path to the Spiders' Nests
"The writer, after writing, finds that he is the poorest of men.”
The debut novel of the 20th century novelist Italo Calvino, The Path to the Spiders' Nests is set in Italy during the Second World War and finds the protagonist, a young boy named Pin, embroiled in the conflict between the Fascists and Partisans. Despite this rather grim setting the novel manages to swing between haunting images of wartime brutality and the genuinely funny passages based around a young boy's utter confusion at adult infatuation with women and fighting, and their disregard of things Pin considers important, such as the titular area in which the spiders make their nests.
Pin is an orphan living in a small Italian town, with his only remaining family member being his abusive sister, the neighbourhood whore. Due to this unorthodox upbringing Pin is shunned by children his own age, and instead spends his time at the local bar, entertaining and infuriating the men who drink there. This is the scene as the novel begins, but the arrival of the war to this sleepy town leads to Pin's arrest for stealing a pistol, and subsequently to his escape and residence with a ragtag group of Partisans, considered such a danger to the cause that they are denied any real role in the plans of the Communist resistance.
Anybody familiar with Calvino's later work can see that the plot of The Path to the Spiders' Nests is one of the authors less surreal works, but this is not to say that it lacks the charm of later novels such as If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, rather that it channels this charm in a different way. Throughout the story Calvino uses Pin's young age as a device to allow numerous secondary characters to explain ideas and experiences as diverse as Communism, love and writing to him, many of which seem to be the Author speaking directly to the reader and trying to get across his own point of view. In one of these monologues a character confides his reasons for fighting, saying "I may not accomplish great deeds but history is made up of little anonymous gestures" a passage that really hammers home what Calvino is trying to write, not so much a war novel as a novel detailing part of the life of one anonymous child caught up in the death and destruction of World War Two, and at this it succeeds enormously well.
The Path to the Spiders' Nests is not perfect however, with the simplicity of the main character at times growing slightly tiresome, and an ending which seems the work of a writer of far lesser talent than Calvino, leaving a real sense of disappointment when one turns the page and realises that the novel is in fact finished. These shortcomings can be attributed to Calvino's inexperience at the time of writing however, and if considered against the book as a whole, these complaints are minor. Overall The Path to the Spiders' Nests is well worth reading, and if it does not reach the heights of Calvino's later work, this is more a reflection of their brilliance than this books failings.
The debut novel of the 20th century novelist Italo Calvino, The Path to the Spiders' Nests is set in Italy during the Second World War and finds the protagonist, a young boy named Pin, embroiled in the conflict between the Fascists and Partisans. Despite this rather grim setting the novel manages to swing between haunting images of wartime brutality and the genuinely funny passages based around a young boy's utter confusion at adult infatuation with women and fighting, and their disregard of things Pin considers important, such as the titular area in which the spiders make their nests.
Pin is an orphan living in a small Italian town, with his only remaining family member being his abusive sister, the neighbourhood whore. Due to this unorthodox upbringing Pin is shunned by children his own age, and instead spends his time at the local bar, entertaining and infuriating the men who drink there. This is the scene as the novel begins, but the arrival of the war to this sleepy town leads to Pin's arrest for stealing a pistol, and subsequently to his escape and residence with a ragtag group of Partisans, considered such a danger to the cause that they are denied any real role in the plans of the Communist resistance.
Anybody familiar with Calvino's later work can see that the plot of The Path to the Spiders' Nests is one of the authors less surreal works, but this is not to say that it lacks the charm of later novels such as If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, rather that it channels this charm in a different way. Throughout the story Calvino uses Pin's young age as a device to allow numerous secondary characters to explain ideas and experiences as diverse as Communism, love and writing to him, many of which seem to be the Author speaking directly to the reader and trying to get across his own point of view. In one of these monologues a character confides his reasons for fighting, saying "I may not accomplish great deeds but history is made up of little anonymous gestures" a passage that really hammers home what Calvino is trying to write, not so much a war novel as a novel detailing part of the life of one anonymous child caught up in the death and destruction of World War Two, and at this it succeeds enormously well.
The Path to the Spiders' Nests is not perfect however, with the simplicity of the main character at times growing slightly tiresome, and an ending which seems the work of a writer of far lesser talent than Calvino, leaving a real sense of disappointment when one turns the page and realises that the novel is in fact finished. These shortcomings can be attributed to Calvino's inexperience at the time of writing however, and if considered against the book as a whole, these complaints are minor. Overall The Path to the Spiders' Nests is well worth reading, and if it does not reach the heights of Calvino's later work, this is more a reflection of their brilliance than this books failings.
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