Do not expect to find new and exciting ideas in this collection of short stories; each tale will be as familiar as a childhood memory. These are not accounts of epic battles and famous heroes, but the struggles are just as profound, the conquests no less heroic. There are no progressive, forward-thinking concepts. On the contrary, you'll need to take more than a few steps back to fully appreciate the rare gem that is Father Uwem Akpan's first international bestseller.
Amidst unspeakable acts of slavery, rape, and genocide in Africa, the stories revolve around one central theme - in the eyes of a child, evil does not exist. By narrating in the point-of-view of the main characters - all children - the author magically transports his readers back to a time when they lived in complete and utter confidence in the ability of grown-ups to run the world. This faith in the world of adults was the foundation of innocence, the very same structure that crumbled at the first hour of betrayal, when we began to realize that adults were not doing such a great job after all.
My favorite story is a ten-page account of friendship in the background of the Christian-Muslim dispute in Nigeria. Two little girls, best friends, wake up one morning to discover a gap separating their lives that is much wider than the unpaved street between their homes. In an effort to maintain contact, the children make up their own sign language to communicate silently through their bedroom windows. I was humbled at how much more inventive little children can be at working through their differences and overcoming real adversity, when those supposedly in charge could not even look past something as useless and ephemeral as a religious conflict.
The story may be set in famine-stricken, war-torn Africa, but something very similar is probably happening in your own neighborhood - in your own homes - at this very moment. I hear people say that kids are growing up too fast nowadays. To quote the lyrics of a 90s Bon Jovi song, "..even innocence has caught the midnight train". We blame the media, the schools, the Internet. Some groups even point to alien abductions. Reading these stories, however, may help us realize that we need not look very far to find out who is responsible. What can we do to preserve our children's faith that we can run the world the right way? The author has no suggestions. But the kids in his stories do.
**
I always need to remind myself that I make my own dreams come true. And it starts with the energy to make things happen.
Do I really know the difference between my birthday and Christmas?
I put this book on a Christmas wish list a couple of years ago, seriously doubting that someone would actually find, much less give it to me. Although not my first Russian novel, "Dead Souls" is my real initiation to the uniquely colorful and morbidly humorous brand of Russian fiction.
While far lesser-known than literary giants Dostoevsky and Tolstoy,
Nikolai Gogol holds the distinction of being the father of Russian realism, all
because of this short, barely finished, almost unpublished, and relatively
obscure work of creative genius.
Set in the throes of Imperialist Russia, the story is more
than the social satire of the period by which it is often labeled. The theme is
timeless and universal: the antihero, Chichikov, is a "gentleman of the
middling sort", who ventures to elevate himself from the status in which
he was born by exploiting the very foundations of 19th century Russian society,
serfdom. The first part of the novel unveils his plans to purchase from Russian
landowners, "dead souls”, deceased slaves who have not been removed from
the latest census, ergo, taxable, list. No one dares to ask questions at first,
lest they lose the opportunity of getting respite from paying taxes for
unproductive servants. However, as Chichikov continues on his mysterious quest,
greed takes over the landowners, and they begin to demand for more compensation
for the dead souls, although they had absolutely no use for them, and they
still had no idea what our protagonist was up to. One by one the landowners
reveal their individual nature, each one a caricature of the traits of ailing
Russian society the author ascribes to his time.
This series of sadly familiar, yet often comical display of human nature is presented through the first-person narrative of an undisclosed observer, who tells the story in a matter-of-fact, almost Camusian manner. There is no great love story or epic act of heroism in "Dead Souls"; in this world, nothing is wrong with a group of educated Russian gentry members discussing human slaves as if they were chattel. Corruption is a way of life, and apathy, the way to deal with it. Yet amidst the criticism of society apparent in every paragraph, the background of Russia, its landscape, ideologies, and passions, reveal the author's devotion for his people and country. This is pure and unadulterated Russia in the eyes of a frustrated patriot and critical realist, making it the perfect Christmas gift to fans of Russian fiction who would like to be re-initiated into the genre.
**
If you think convincing people that we may have descended from apes is hard, try telling them that we may have also been of the schizophrenic monkey variety.
A mere 3000 years ago, the human brain was incapable of conscious thought. The pre-conscious human was an automaton, whose cognitive functions were divided between an executive or "commanding" portion, and a part that obeys auditory hallucinations without question. The very trait that sets humans apart from other animals - the ability to instrospect - was not observed until recent history. Conscious thought was only born out of the need for metaphorical language due to the increasing complexity of human civilization, as societies began to grow.
Such was the thesis of psychologist Julian Jaynes, which he set out to prove in this controversial 1976 book on the origin of human consciousness. He began with somewhat daunting chapters on the details of brain chemistry, but became more involving as he incorporated well-known ancient Greek, Roman, and Egyptian art into his argument. Using excerpts from no less than the Code of Hammurabi, the Iliad, Gilgamesh, and the Old Testament, the author attempted to answer one of the most pressing questions of our time: "Why have the gods stopped talking to us?".
Sigmund Freud once said that only the simple-minded does not possess a keen interest in his past. I therefore recommend this little-known piece of literature to receptive and open-minded readers who are fans of ancient art, history, and psychology. Whether you decide to take it seriously, take offense, or take it with a grain of salt, you would have to admit that the concept of schizophrenic apes is pretty darn funny.
Earlier today, my mind was torn between buying an iPod with bigger storage and staying put with the trusty old unit I've been using for three years now. The one I have now - a 2 GB first generation Nano - can only house around 450 songs (if I un-tick the Album Artwork option).
My formula is 60% comfort, 40% play.
I gravitate towards New England prep and Brit high street on most days. My love for New England prep started five years ago. I've always been intrigued by Brit street style. I think Brits dress better than the French.
When I feel like it, I wear a tailored jacket and it caps my look.
I am not afraid of prints. Paisley is my favorite. And you know paisley's a love it or hate kind of print. Runners up are floral, plaid, gingham, stripes, and herringbone. Paul Smith would be proud.
When I'm not wearing prints, I wear black. And why not?
I am not a shoe fiend at all. I favor slides, loafers, and sneakers. Leather shoes, the pointy kind - I reserve them for the occasional dress-coded event. I should buy more shoes.
How I wish I could afford Bottega Veneta, Marc Jacobs, Lanvin, and Rick Owens. In the meantime, there's Tyler, Topman, Old Navy, J. Crew, and H&M.
No to fakes! I'd rather wear a cheap brand. If it bothers me so much, I rip the label off. I feel much better after.
I only have a couple of watches. One of which was a corporate giveaway. I do not own any jewelry. I'd play with eyewear, though. I've been drawn to nerdy frames since college.
Cost per wear is the only metric I maintain when dressing up. I'd rather wear the same things over and over than spend on singular, disposable, flash-in-the-pan fashion.
I ought to have a better relationship with the local alteration store.
I get more excited looking at trends from women's magazines. If I get inspired enough, I'd pick a female trend and make it my own. The writer in me, however, would buy the men's magazine because it is better-written. Speaking of trends, I mostly like seeing them on someone else.
How do I define best-dressed? If someone's able to put together a smashing ensemble without the aid of a stylist. Or if that person looks fly but doesn't look styled. (Then you'll know the stylist did a good job.)
The real good dressers, you find them on the streets or sometimes on The Sartorialist. Some of them are on lookbook, too. Sometimes, however, it's hard to tell if they're being editorial about it. That being said, military men in full regalia are the best dressed folk in the world.
The best-dressed celeb guy on my list is Brandon Flowers (The Killers). He had me at feathered jacket. Kanye West, more for his attitude, is second. They both look like they can to dress up without professional advice. Ladies who make the grade are Zooey Deschanel, the Olsen twins, Sienna Miller, and Jennifer Connelly.
If I had my way, I'd get me the whole LV Damier Graphite collection, but I'll be happy with a Fred Perry PVC Carry-all for now.
I should save more money and stop buying clothes. But I should buy more shoes. What should I do?
Having pegged my style as 60% comfort/40% play, I'd still say it's ambiguous, erratic, and undefined. Now that's where attitude comes handy.
Style goes beyond fashion. It's your aspirations, realizations, predictions, and predilections combined. It could be tricky. It's surely not store-bought. Everyone has one.
