Tag: books

The Beginning of the Fall of the Roman Republic

As the gap between rich and poor widened, angry mobs began to riot.

The Wife was perusing a textbook entitled World History by Elisabeth Gaynor Ellis and Anthony Esler (2008, Prentice Hall), when she came across this piece about Rome, in a chapter called From Republic to Empire (p.157):

Conquests and control of busy trade routes brought incredible riches into Rome. Generals, officials, and traders amassed fortune from loot, taxes and commerce. A new class of wealthy Romans emerged. They built lavish mansions and filled them with luxuries imported from the east.

Wealthy families bought up huge estates, called latifundia. as the Romans conquered more and more lands, they forced people captured in war to work as slaves on the latifundia.

The widespread use of slave labor hurt small farmers, who were unable to produce food as cheaply as the latifundia could. The farmers’ problems were compounded when huge quantities of grain pouring in from the conquered lands drove down grain prices. Many farmers fell into debt and had to sell their land.

In despair, landless farmers flocked to Rome and other cities looking for jobs. There, they joined an already restless class of unemployed people. As the gap between rich and poor widened, angry mobs began to riot. In addition, the new wealth led to increased corruption. Greed and self-interest replaced virtues such as simplicity, hard work and duty, which had been so prized in the time of the early republic.

Thus endeth the reading.

BOOK REVIEW: Life Itself by Roger Ebert

“Most people choose to write a blog. I need to.”

Fairly early on in my reading of film critic Roger Ebert’s memoir, Life Itself, I decided that, if I were ever to write my own autobiography – not that I necessarily would – it should be modeled on this book. Organized thematically, with an overarching, but not strict, chronology, using short chapters (55 in 420 pages).

But I’m probably not going to write mine because I doubt I could be so descriptive. Ebert remembers things from his childhood that would have eluded me writing about mine. More importantly, though, he writes with incredible honesty. The very first line encapsulates the sensation: “I was born inside the movie of my life.” Yet, though known as probably the premiere movie critic of his time, he got the job “out of a clear blue sky,” and without much thought that it would be his life’s work.

Since I’ve started following him on various movie review TV programs, initially co-starring the late Gene Siskel back in the late 1970s, Roger Ebert has had a distinctive and intelligent voice when speaking about the cinema. But since just before the illness that has silenced his speaking voice, and turned him into what he described as looking like the 1925 version of Phantom of the Opera, his commentary on other aspects of life has proven to be extraordinary. And it all started with his blog:

“My blog became my voice, my outlet, my ‘social media’ in a way I couldn’t have imagined. Into it, I poured my regrets, desires, and memories…The comments were a form of feedback I’d never had before, and I gained a better and deeper understanding of my readers. I made ‘online friends’, a concept I scoffed at. Most people choose to write a blog. I need to.”

Ebert writes about family, growing up Catholic, race, and, naturally, a lot about writing. He explains how he collected places, in London, Venice, and elsewhere, that he would come back to again and again; now that he can’t visit physically, he can still experience them in his mind. Alcoholism – his mother’s and his own – is discussed thoroughly; 1979 marked the beginning of his sobriety.

He discusses several Hollywood legends, but my favorite chapters of those are about directors Martin Scorsese, whose first film is a touchstone for Ebert; and Werner Herzog, with whom he has a spiritual bond, though not in a theological sense. Perhaps not coincidentally, they are all about the same age.

Then there’s the chapter about Siskel, his TV partner, with whom he had a complicated but ultimately fraternal relationship of love and respect. It was Siskel’s agent who packaged them together, suggesting that they be seen together, which made their presence more distinctive.

Most HIGHLY recommended! (Great Christmas present.)
***
Reviews by Alan David Doane and Jaquandor.

No Time

post I wrote about murderabilia in this blog some time ago is scheduled to appear in the newsletter of the New Yorkers for Alternatives to the Death Penalty (NYADP) this spring,

I found that this past week or so, I’ve had no free writing time to post to this blog. Part of it was self-inflicted. I saw parts of four football games this past weekend, though I did record them all and fast-forwarded through a lot of them – GO, NEW YORK GIANTS! (The key to pulling that off without accidentally getting the scores is to avoid all media – standard, such as TV and radio, as well as social, such as e-mail and Twitter.)

I also saw two movies with my wife last weekend, including a Golden Globe winner, and read one book (THAT book, Jaquandor), none of which I’ve had time to review. I had an article due for my church’s newsletter. I am also the compiler of a sermon evaluation team, which is part of one of my pastor’s educational requirements.

So I got nothing. Well, you could read my current Flashmob Fridays post about Cleveland, a posthumous book by Harvey Pekar, or the previous posts about Walt Disney’s Donald Duck: Lost in the Andes or The Survivalist by Box Brown.

Or you can read about my takes on:
No more savings bonds of the paper variety
The Internet piracy bills SOPA and PIPA
Going bald
Why the Postal Service is REALLY going broke

Lefty Brown, who was one of the very first bloggers I followed even before I was writing myself, is blogging again, after a 5+ year hiatus. He’s been doing The Married Gamers with his wife Kelly – I am not a gamer – but now he’s back with his own musings. And he answers some of my questions. (Should be ‘believe,’ not ‘belief.’)

I should note that ABC Wednesday is starting up again (psst, at the letter A) and it’s not too late to join. Though, in fact, you don’t HAVE to start with A. (I started with K.)

Here’s something that’s interesting to me. A post I wrote about murderabilia in this blog some time ago is scheduled to appear in the newsletter of the New Yorkers for Alternatives to the Death Penalty (NYADP) this spring, augmented by an interview with me. And another piece about the death penalty may appear in a later issue.

(Had to post this picture, sent to me, as one of the best examples of constantly wrong spelling I have ever seen.)

Book Review: The Complete Peanuts, 1950-1952

When I bought The Complete Peanuts, 1950-1952 last year, I knew that I would enjoy it.

Unfortunately, for some contractual reason, the reruns of the Peanuts strip that appear in newspapers these days are limited to the 1960s or 1990s. I’ve pretty much stopped looking at them. Now, if they were allowed to go back to the very beginnings of the strip, THEN I’d start reading them again.

The problem for the syndicator, from a pure marketing point of view, is that the characters were still evolving, not at all as familiar as some of them would become. The key characters in the early days were Charlie Brown; Patty, not to be confused with the much later Peppermint Patty; Shermy, who’d end up in the background by the 1960s; and Snoopy, who was seen walking more on four legs than two. Violet, who ended up in the background, too, entered some seven months later; it was she, not Lucy, who held the first football that Charlie Brown missed.

Schroeder, the piano prodigy practically from birth, and needier than crabby Lucy were introduced as much younger characters than the other children. It was only later than the strips covered in this first volume that they, and baby Linus, aged to where we would most recognize them.

When I bought The Complete Peanuts, 1950-1952 last year, I knew that I would enjoy it. In fact, I like it more than the “classic” period of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Among other things, Charlie Brown wasn’t always so put upon. He was a bit of a scamp, who initiated mischief, compelling his friends to chase after him. He had moxie. No wonder Shermy felt as he did in the very first strip, shown below.

I recommend this book, in which we see the evolution of these beloved, and in some cases, largely forgotten characters.

Rod Serling biography by Joel Engel

One of the things I was able to do in the Adirondacks a couple of months ago was to read the bulk of the book Rod Serling: The Dreams and Nightmares of Life in the Twilight Zone – a biography by Joel Engel. I wanted to finish it because I had borrowed the book from my father-in-law and I wanted to return it; that was my internal message, not his external one.

In the Methodology and Sources section of the book, author Joel Engel expressed surprise that in 1985, a full decade after the death of the celebrated television writer Rod Serling, there had not yet been a Serling biography. So Engel made inquiries and ended up writing a book about a man whose fans adored him, but who, despite his considerable success, was riddled with self-doubt. As Engel notes in the Prologue re Serling in 1967: “Submitted for your examination: a man who’s dying inside. Not so many years ago, he rode the crest of a golden wave he thought would never end…But that was before giving birth to the Creation…Each day, he hears fewer whispers of his greatness, and those still heard cannot be believed from inside the private hell to which the Creation has doomed him.”

The Creation, of course, was the seminal series The Twilight Zone, whose writing and hosting made him both successful as a writer but also a celebrity; yet he doubted his writing abilities, and scorned his own celebrity.

Chapter 1 was about Rod Serling’s dad Sam, who was too poor to go to college and become the engineer his skill set would suggest he could have become. He ended up enrolling in secretarial school and took his bride Esther to Panama, where she almost died of yellow fever. When the Serlings returned to Auburn, NY, they discovered Esther was pregnant. The pregnancy was difficult, and the doctors assured the family that Robert, born in 1918, would be their only child. Sam then felt that he was doomed to work for his father-in-law’s grocery business, in Cortland, then Syracuse.

But the doctors were wrong. Rodman Edward Serling was born on Christmas Day, 1924. Sam moved south to Binghamton to buy his own grocery store and when it proved successful, the family moved to Bennett Avenue on the city’s middle-class West Side. He was attracted to the place that became a relatively worker-friendly town for the vast immigrant population. More importantly, Binghamton became, for Rod “a kind of geographic womb to crawl back into – and that’s your hometown,” a feeling not shared by Bob, BTW.

“Rod attracted people to him by sheer force of personality. He received constant praise, even adoration, and soon found it difficult to live without them.” At some level, this would continue to be the case for most of his life.

Chapter 2 involved Rod Serling as a paratrooper in World War II, a function he had to plead for because of his diminutive stature. Engel tells about the campaign in the Philippines in 1945, and how the absurdity of war – one friend was killed by the food supply dropped from the air to save them – that colored Rod’s eventual writing career.

Subsequent chapters addressed his evolution as a writer from radio station intern to some encouraging radio drama submissions to some success with this new medium called television. Despite some great volume of work, when the focus of TV production moved from live stagelike NYC shows to the filmed Hollywood product, it was a bit like starting over.

Nevertheless, despite his eventual success with The Twilight Zone, Rod’s “need to please,” and his disdain for, yet attraction to, fame and success made him not quite satisfied.

Due in large part to his four-pack-a-day cigarette habit – he even smoked during a classroom appearance at his alma mater, Binghamton Central High School in 1970, I can testify personally – Rod Serling died on June 28, 1975.

The Engel book is quite interesting, especially the first two chapters. But it is all well researched. If the latter chapters are somehow less enjoyable, maybe it’s because the subject of the book was unable to be content with his life, believe his success, be happy with his first writing critic, his wife Carol. Like his father, he wanted more than he achieved and like Sam, he died young pursuing it.

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