I'm back! This is my first serious activity here in over two months. I'm afraid I may have lost the touch...
Review coming soon. For now, suffice it to say that I'm deeply biased toward DFW's writing, and this collection of non-fiction essays is no exception.
I neither use Booklikes nor Goodreads now. Funny how things slip out of your life.
Baudrillard takes on what would later become the digital world, and it ain't pretty. As Marx is to the obscenity of the commodity, so is Baudrillard to the ecstasy of communication. Baudrillard contends that our preoccupation has shifted to the overexposure of the transparency of the world: as such we are like visitors to a hyperrealist art gallery, staring at an image where there is nothing to see. A forceful critique, and one that is not easy to read, but a necessary one nonetheless.
Booklikes isn't quite doing it for me, but I'm sure as heck not going back to Goodreads. Maybe I'll just write reviews for myself and share them with friends instead of posting them online.
This is another charming Shakespeare play. The dialogue is snappy as ever and while there is some moderate peril, this time the friar's advice proves sage. A great way to spend a few hours, and just what I needed after what has likely been the most depressing September on record.
Last night I posted how I was fed up with the Goodreads wars, and today here I am.
I've always been interested in literary criticism, but I also have some fairly strong opinions about art. I'm trying to figure out how to balance this. Maybe this will be the place to do just that.
This book came to me at a strange time. Normally I would give a book like this two stars and be done with it. But not now. I am going through something of a minor existential crisis, and as a result, I am taking some time off so as to focus on things of import.
The plot of this book is not really key—it's about a guy who rides his motorcycle around America and is not so nice to his son and talks a lot about a philosophical notion of Quality that is quite possibly too vague for my math-addled brain to appreciate. But the act of reading something intentionally (normally I speed-read, but here I took my time), and something that was at least tangential to philosophy and self-actualization at that, kick-started my brain.
Maybe Pirsig's notion of Quality is incredibly useful; maybe it's not that helpful. At first glance it does a good job of resolving the old subjective–objective aesthetics debate that's plagued me for a while, although I haven't really made my mind up as to the particulars. But at least it has me thinking, and I'm excited to see the results.