I Need YOUR Help! (Not the Money Kind of Help.)

Hello everyone!

As you can probably ascertain from the glacial pace of posts lately, I have been rather swamped with work and attempting to find a more suitable place to live in my beloved H-Town. But in spite of this, my brain bone has been occupied with how much I’d like to give Burning Leaves a makeover. Since life isn’t an 80’s movie, I just can’t rip off her glasses and make her magically beautiful. Or was she beautiful all along and we just didn’t see it?

So I am asking you, my readers, what kind of content you guys would like to see more of on this site? For the past year, I have been only posting reviews and the occasional diversion, but I’d really like to expand my offerings. The only thing is, I’d still like for it to relate to literature, literary criticism, and writing. You’re not going to read about my excitingly dull lifestyle, partly because I actually want you to come back instead of dying an undignified death at your keyboard with a Large Marge expression and a puddle of spilled Mountain Dew in your lap…and partly because there are other venues where I write about that sort of thing.

Aside from that, though, I’d like your thoughts on what you’d like to see around here. There are already some ideas I’ve got firing through the ole neuron network, but since I write to share my love of books and reading and writing I’d like to see what sorts of things would interest you guys the most. I would like for Burning Leaves to be as engaging and enlightening an experience as possible, and I would be unable to do so without your valued input.

Aside from keeping it within the blog’s core theme, the only thing I won’t change is the layout and relatively image-free posts. I generally avoid pictures simply so those with slower browsers or connections as well as Smartphone users can load the page as quickly as possible. Other than that, though, I am very open to hearing what you have to say on the subject and get an idea as to how I can best cater to everyone’s interests. I am looking at other blogs for inspiration, of course, but it’s always nice to hear directly from the target audience as well.

Thank you very much, guys!

-Riot

The Art of War

Review

It’s almost impossible to write a worthy review of a book with as much undeniable historical significance as Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. What more can be said about this eloquent and revolutionary tome? Even though I personally abhor war and violence, I still believe that Sun Tzu could not have picked a more appropriate title. “The road to survival or ruin” (63) is paved with intelligence, analysis, cunning, and understanding – mental factors which also play into the creation of more popular forms of art such as painting or sculpture. Though The Art of War revels in the glory of battle, Sun Tzu stresses that “to capture the enemy’s army is better than to destroy it” (77) – a provocative and reflective statement that acknowledges the core humanity inherent  even in adversaries. And that preservation of basic human dignity stands as the reason why this book has endured for more than two millenia – it doesn’t revel in violence for the sake of violence, nor does it promote war for the sake of war. Rather, Sun Tzu accepts armed conflict as an inevitability and provides richly detailed and thoughtfully penned stratagems for all aspects of armed conflict, from terrain to head count to the best times of day to strike.

Translator Samuel B. Griffith provides ample supplementary material, discussing the book as it relates to Taoism and China’s dynastic structure. Admittedly, many of his tracts were difficult to grasp, as I am only familiar with Taoist principles and have not studied Chinese history in too much detail. However, I fully appreciated his essays, as they provided a fascinating and necessary context for The Art of War. Like all classics, Sun Tzu’s masterpiece remains both firmly rooted in its time as well as sending a message that is purely timeless. Griffith’s contributions help to balance its history with its transcendence, though the main text can certainly still do so on its own accord.

Bibliographic Information

Tzu, Sun. The Art of War. Trans. Samuel B. Griffith. New York: Oxford University Press, 1971.

Further Reading

Griffiths speaks extensively on how Sun Tzu’s The Art of War would later come to influence Mao Tse-Tung’s writings. On Guerilla Warfare especially draws from its esteemed predecessor, garnering enough influence to be included in the bibliographies of some U.S. Army Field Manuals.

~Riot

[Diversity Rocks! Challenge Progress: 15/24]

Delay Notice: Why I’ve Been Bye-Bye

My apologies for the molasses-like pace at which Burning Leaves is currently crawling. I was devoting a goodly bit of my time to finding a job in this tempestuous economy, and I thankfully will be starting a new one in October! Suffice to say, I didn’t realize how exhausting job-hunting was, and so what little time I had to write ended up being devoted to some of my sociopolitical and local business projects. Since I will be moving within a few months, reviews will still come at something of a staggered pace until I’m back on my feet.

In spite of that, though, the love and support of my readers is most appreciated, and I once again apologize for the delay. There’s still a lot of great books in my queue that need reviewing, and I can’t wait to share them with you all!

~Riot

Critical Mass

Review

One of the most intriguing elements of Kathleen M. Henry’s provocative dissection of Catholicism Critical Mass lay in its structure. It fluidly alternates between traditional narrative, one-woman play, prayers, poetry and satirical commentaries on the mass and confession rituals. The end result is a lyrical, whip-smart exploration of the inner workings of a Catholic parish over the span of several generations – definitely not for those offended by religious critique.

Her two main themes involve the Church’s views on women and sex, deconstructing how the two intersect and the ways in which they effect the Catholic community. Henry does not narrow her focus to only one protagonist – rather, she follows multiple women through multiple decades and delves deeply into how the Church shapes and molds their lives both for good and for ill. She compares and contrasts the suppression of the feminine in religious rituals and practice with that of the priests. Not surprisingly, she finds parallels between the ways in which Catholicism attempts to regulate sexuality in the clergy with its views on women and – to a lesser extent, lesbians. It’s pretty controversial stuff, but practitioners of any given faith should be allowed to question practices they find outdated, offensive, or repressive. Henry expresses her concerns with eloquence, veiling her anger using poetic language rather than harsh words of contempt and rage.

Bibliographic Information

Henry, Kathleen M. Critical Mass. Bloomington, IN: iUniverse, 2008.

Further Reading

A deep understanding of Catholicism is absolutely necessary to fully understand the nuances of Critical Mass. Those unfamiliar with the faith can find answers to any questions they may have about the narrative using The Catechism of the Catholic Church as an informed framework.

~Riot, who is feeling very much under the weather right now and apologizes for the short review

Passeggiata: Strolling Through Italy

Review

Throughout literature, film, music, and other media, the exultation of Italy as a paragon of culture and beauty has become something of an expected cliché. Memoirs of time spent perusing the magestic ruins and timeless, influential art are a permanent staple of any travel writing section at a bookstore. G.G. Husak’s Passeggiata: Strolling Through Italy skirts the possibility of tumbling into triteness by emphasizing areas of the country that generally go unnoticed by tourists and the ways in which she and her husband Al come to an “understanding of the larger world in ways [they] didn’t expect” (68).

The Husaks take a yearly sojourn to Italy every year, and offer up a wide variety of advice on how to handle when “the unpredictable happens” (355) for novice travelers as well as information on intriguing, overlooked locales for the more seasoned. The more popular tourist destinations are certainly touched upon, but the author’s real passion for the country shines through in her descriptions of more intimate settings going largely untouched by anyone but the locals. She relates her experiences in the cathedrals, monasteries, opera houses, cafés, and other spaces with rich detail, conveying their emotional appeal alongside the physical. It’s obvious to see why the Husaks continue to return on a yearly basis, and every one of their eager immersions yield insights into the interpersonal and intrapersonal worlds.

However, in spite of her overwhelming passion for Italy, its peoples, and its cultures, Husak does not lose her head in overidealizing her favorite destination. There are aspects of Italian society she yearns will find its way over the Atlantic, certainly, but she refrains entirely from declaring it superior to her home country and is unafraid to address her concerns and disappointments. Pickpocketing and the exploitation of tourists do not recieve a whitewashing treatment, and Husak relates the ways in which she and her husband narrowly avoided losing their valuables. It’s helpful information, certainly, but also fully illustrates the way in which the author does not allow herself to become fully carried away by the magic and romance of foreign travel. This cool-headed optimism and willingness to accept the ebbs and flows of a different rhythm is a great example for all aspiring globetrotters to fold into their repository of information. Without them, an exciting adventure could quickly spiral into a horrific nightmare.

Bibliographic Information

Husak, G.G. Passeggiata: Strolling Through Italy. Charleston, SC: BookSurge, 2008.

Further Reading

For a reversal of G.G. Husak’s annual Passeggiata, the similarly-titled Passage to Liberty: The Story of Italian Immigration and the Rebirth of America by A. Kenneth Ciongoli and Jay Parini tells the compelling story of Italians adjusting to the culture shock as they explored and attempted to forge a life in America. Anyone interested in putting pictures to place names and the works of art Husak describes would do well to peruse Annie Sacerdoti’s Wonders of Italy. The binding is stuffed to figurative bursting with stunning photographs of the celebrated Italian landscape and architecture that provide an excellent visual complement to undercut Husak’s beautifully textured prose.

~Riot

The Middle Fork

Review

The explicitly political novel is a delicate, tricky genre. Without delicately crafted, fully three-dimensional characterization, the figures intended to represent various stances come off more as partisan shills and mouthpieces as opposed to relatable individuals. Readers need not only see in-depth examinations about what the characters believe, but why they believe as well. That is the one sadly glaring flaw of Rick Glaze’s otherwise serviceable novel The Middle Fork.

Set among the breathtaking Bitterroot Mountain Range on the Idaho-Montana border, the novel follows a small throng of avid outdoors enthusiasts as they hike, kayak, camp, and fish the forbidding terrain. Glaze’s own personal travels provide the inspiration for the beautiful backdrop, and his obvious passion for nature shines through in his descriptions of the scenery. This stands as the novel’s greatest strength – the mountains loom threateningly over even more unforgiving whitewater rapids, lending an extra sense of dread to the main plot. Although the overarching theme involves the group learning to set aside their differences in order to search for a missing member, it’s difficult to care much about what happens to them when the individuals involved come off more as caricatures rather than characters.

Narrated by small business owner Jonathan, the central interpersonal conflict involves fiery Republican Sonia facing off against liberal author Keith over his well-received treatise on global warming. The both of them speak more in partisan talking points as opposed to expressing impassioned beliefs straight from the heart, and as a result they read as if parrots echoing their master’s speech. There is some degree of fleshing out – Sonia inherited her conservative sensibilities from her beloved father, for example – but they really only skim the surface, leaving the reader wanting much more. While I believe Glaze’s core messages of trying to find common ground between two very different political perspectives and forging mutual respect and understanding are highly commendable and necessary, they come off as somewhat limp when executed with little more than cardboard cutouts of left and right ideology.

Bibliographic Information

Glaze, Rick. The Middle Fork. Austin: Synergy Books, 2009.

Further Reading

I’m very much drawn to fiction revolving around politics. None of them have utilized The Middle Fork’s interesting device of juxtaposing their themes with a stunning outdoor scene, but they still stand as excellent examples of political novels utilizing compelling characters to drive their points home. Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm, and Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 are a few of my all-time favorite books, among others. To me, they really set the standard that all political novelists should strive to reach.

~Riot

Interpreter of Maladies

Review

Lonely, lilting, and loving, Jhumpa Lahiri’s short story collection Interpreter of Maladies explores issues of Indian-American identity and family with rich prose and surrealistically realistic characters. While the stories remain firmly grounded in a recognizable reality, Lahiri’s stunningly beautiful word choice inundates them with a magical quality that rightfully earned her the Pulitzer Prize in 2000.

There is no direct narrative connect between them, nor do the characters phase between stories. Rather, they unite over common themes and motifs and a shared mood blending confusion and disconnect with even the most tenuous shred of hope. Food stands as one of Lahiri’s most common images, with individuals symbolically interacting with it as a means of underscoring their methods of communicating with one another. It’s quite a clever little device, one usually inserted with an aching obviousness in the works of lesser writers, but thankfully woven far more deftly into Interpreter of Maladies.

Lahiri not only probes the depths of her characters as they grapple with the expected issues associated with establishing firm footing in two vastly different worlds, but the pains and confusion associated with love and being loved as well. Whether platonic or not, she dissects how the emotion can simultaneously stimulate and isolate. While some element of this theme is present in every story, both “Sexy” and “The Blessed House” stood out to me as the most effective examples. They’re the most obvious, yes, but also – to me – some of the more fully realized treatises on love the collection has to offer in terms of palpable interpersonal conflict. The former reflects upon an emotionally one-sided affair between a married man and his ardent mistress, while the latter depicts a newly united couple coming to terms with their differing perspectives on religion and culture.

However, “The Third and Final Continent” stands as the greatest synthesis of Lahiri’s two favored themes. The concluding story in the collection, it spans most of one man’s lifetime as he transitions from orphaned youngster to single immigrant to family man to older gentleman. Laden with nearly every emotion on the spectrum presented in bittersweet detail, the narrator recounts the ebbs and flows of his life  in India, England, and America and the jarring adjustments – both personal and interpersonal – necessary for survival. He learns to embrace and care for a wife thrust upon him by extended family, and the both of them must learn to eke out a multicultural identity in Massachusettes while simultaneously forging a life with one another. It’s as haunting as it is lovely, and a perfect ending which leads comfortably straight back to the collection’s beginning.

Bibliographic Information

Lahiri, Jhumpa. Interpreter of Maladies. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1999.

Further Reading

In spite of the fact that neither author shares a similar background or writing style, I reacted to Interpreter of Maladies with the same sense of detached awe as I did Raymond Chandler’s short story collection Cathedral. I suppose it comes from their abilities to portray empty characters in a manner that still feels organic and multidimensional and the fact that both books – while the characters and narratives themselves do not overlap – are presented as a perpetual cycle as a means of highlighting the timeless nature of their themes.

~Riot

[Diversity Rocks! Challenge Progress: 14/24]

Four Seasons: The Story of a Business Philosophy

Review

Though reading more as a biography than a straight treatise on business practices, Isadore Sharp’s memoir Four Seasons: The Story of a Business Philosophy provides for an interesting glimpse into a subject I never formally studied. Sharp formed his iconic hotel empire “from a customer’s perspective” (xv), closely examining consumer trends and demands in order to offer the best possible service and amenities in the hospitality industry.

Sharp does offer up an interesting enough history of his business, examining his mistakes with the same enthusiasm with which he celebrates his successes. The son of Polish immigrants, Sharp began his career working in the family construction business in Toronto. He credits their “assurance of self-confidence and the[ir] guidance of values” as instrumental in the establishment of Four Seasons as a family- and community-oriented business structure. Although Sharp delves deeply into the history of his beloved company, I thought his specific examples of how it gives back to the community as well as providing excellent and attentive customer service stood out as the strongest elements of the book. In 1989, Four Seasons and other Toronto hotels sent “forty-five tons of relief supplies” (183) to help the victims of Hurricane Hugo – and “well in advance” (183) of government agencies such as FEMA. He mentions the way one of the Maldives branches plunged into action when a tsunami struck in 2007, where “all the two hundred employees acted intuitively to help” (261) the victims in any way they could – and nobody sustained anything beyond minor injuries. Even small things such as the expectation that hotel staff keep regular tabs on the needs and preferences of regular and “special attention guests” (232) with disabilities, severe allergies, and other needs stood out.

While I can’t speak about the Four Seasons service firsthand, it was at least nice to read about how the staff is taken care of by the corporation, and how they pass that attentiveness down to the customer. Even though the book was not always entertaining, it still made for a nice read. I especially enjoyed perusing the stories of a major corporation operating almost as if a smaller, more personable one – that’s not something one comes across terribly often! But it seems as if the formula works, and hopefully others will become inspired to follow suit.

Bibliographic Information

Sharp, Isadore. Four Seasons: The Story of a Business Philosophy. New York: Portfolio, 2009.

Further Reading

This is the first book on corporate culture and philosophy I’ve read, honestly, so my frame of reference is quite narrow. Any of you out there have suggestions?

~Riot

The Shipwreck of a Nation: Germany: An Inside View

Review

Seeking to provide a “rundown of the derangements” (5) present in Germany during the reign of Adolf Hitler, The Shipwreck of a Nation: Germany: An Inside View by H. Peter Nennhaus explains how events such as the invasion of Poland and the Holocaust without legitimizing them. It’s apologetic without being apologist, and makes for a fascinating perspective of World War II, especially to American readers with almost exclusive access to the Allied point of view.

Part memoir and part sociological exploration of the German mindset as fascism began to extend its influence across the nation, The Shipwreck of a Nation admits that Hitler’s “rapid recovery of economic vitality, of social peace, and of national self-esteem” (20) led to his appeal and support among the populace. This trust, combined with an exploitation of inherent German patriotism, eventually led him to commit the later atrocities against “the voiceless and defenseless Jews” (22) and other minorities. Nennhaus was only a child during the advent of Nazism, and confesses his juvenile admiration of the soldiers – his brothers included – who faught under Hitler’s orders. Though Nennhaus eventually matures into understanding the grisly reality of the Hitler regime, he nevertheless remains loyal and loving towards his family as the travesties of war befall their home. It fully humanizes the men participating in the struggle without condoning the dictator who forced them into combat – an extremely difficult task that Nennhaus thankfully pulls off.

I consider books such as this essential reading for scholars, historians, and politicians. Without first person accounts of the way things were, it would be near impossible to understand exactly how dictators get away with carrying out mass genocide right under their constituents’ watch. By understanding the attitudes and beliefs of the people that eventually allow dictators such as Hitler to rise to power and commit shocking acts of violence and dehumanization, we arm ourselves with the knowledge to perhaps prevent such things from occurring in the future. I admire Nennhaus’s forthrightness and honesty about his experiences as a child – and eventually, as a proud member of the Hitler Youth – in The Shipwreck of a Nation, as it is a valuable tool in the fight to stamp out racism, fascism, and genocide in societies across the globe.

Bibliographic Information

Nennhaus, H. Peter. The Shipwreck of a Nation: Germany: An Inside View. Colorado: Outskirts, 2009.

Further Reading

Prior to reading The Shipwreck of a Nation, my intake of World War II literature was almost purely from the perspectives of Holocaust victims and survivors both real and fictitious, save for highly unsettling excerpts from Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf in history classes. H. Peter Nennhaus’s book actually has more in common with Naomi Wolf’s The End of America: Letter of Warning to a Young Patriot than Holocaust literature or disturbing Nazi treatises. Both explore how fascists sieze the loyalties of their people and manipulate them to achieve their own ends. The only difference is that Nennhaus witnessed the horrors of the tragic extreme, murderous end of the spectrum firsthand.

~Riot

Delay Notice: But Not for Long!

First off, my apologies to all the authors, agents, and PR representatives who have sent me books over the past two months. Vacation has been an excellent way to catch up on my reading, but due to an unreliable internet and spending the majority of my time hiking rather than thinking I haven’t posted any reviews in July. I was hoping to do so, but it seems as if life had other plans for me. 

In any case, I will be returning to Houston on Saturday. Hopefully my first of many backlogged book reviews will be posted shortly after. I haven’t abandoned Burning Leaves, though, dear readers! 

~Riot