Quote of the Week - II

For lo! the Board with Cups and Spoons is crown’d,
The Berries crackle, and the Mill turns round.
On shining Altars of Japan they raise
The silver Lamp; the fiery Spirits blaze.
From silver Spouts the grateful Liquors glide,
And China’s Earth receives the smoaking Tyde.

~ Alexander Pope on coffee, from The Rape of the Lock

Previous post in the series.

Quote of the Week - I

   The breath within my lungs was so exhausted

from climbing, I could not go on; in fact,

as soon as I had reached that stone, I sat.

   "Now you must cast aside your laziness,"

my master said, "for he who rests on down

or under covers cannot come to fame;

   and he who spends his life without renown

leaves such a vestige of himself on earth

as smoke bequeaths to air or foam to water.

   Therefore, get up; defeat your breathlessness

with spirit that can win all battles if

the body's heaviness does not deter it.

   A longer ladder still is to be climbed;

it's not enough to have left them behind;

if you have understood, now profit from it."

   Then I arose and showed myself far better

equipped with breath than I had been before:

"Go on, for I am strong and confident

The Divine Comedy: Inferno by Dante Alighieri (Mandelbaum translation)

Gordon's Magnum Opus and Lessons for India - I

Good books take time to read. If you're reading a classic work of literature there isn't much sense in trying to "finish" it as soon as possible. You might as well stick to the more pulpy fast paced novels and no one would judge you for it.

The same applies to non-fiction works. Some of my most favorite books in this genre have been written by scientists and mathematicians, and most of them took me years to read. I still reread them albeit (naturally) a bit faster than on the first occasion. There is always so much more that you can absorb.

When I decided to become an economist after years of harmless flirting with the subject on the sidelines, I realized I was missing a firm foundation and, even more importantly, taste in the subject. Just like a good biryani tastes even better the next day after the flavors are absorbed fully (we say, "zayka utar jaana"), no discipline can be truly understood without letting it simmer and then letting the subconscious take in a feel for what you intend to master.

I've been reading many books in this pursuit and maybe I'll come round to discussing all of them in turn. However, I decided to start with Robert Gordon's The Rise and Fall of American Growth because of several reasons:

1. The Purely Selfish: It's a mammoth book and writing down the lessons I learnt from it help me document, preserve, and more deeply appreciate the many threads in the larger theme of the book.
2. A Great Story: Like all good works in research, fiction or otherwise, the author tells a fascinating story. And all good stories deserve to be shared.
3. Potential for Debate: The book is not the final word on the account of growth in the developed world - far from it. There is much to be discussed and questioned and I intend to do that, at least with myself. For that, I need to write all the main points somewhere. Here.
4. Lessons for India: The growth story of the US is fascinating and belittling. Fascinating because the growth was rapid, world-changing and very cool. Belittling because you instantly recognize India is, in many areas, at the same place as US in 1930; at times even 1870.

So there we have it. This series of blog posts will discuss Gordon's work. I will often skim through deeper points and will not be able to maintain a critical economists' eye at all times - the effort required would be too time consuming. No, this is meant to be a fountain for future inspiration and understanding.

We begin next week though in the meantime you can read a review from 2016 written by recent Nobel laureate William D. Nordhaus. Also, my Goodreads review of the book.

Plan for this Blog

No one really reads a blog unless it gives you tangible rewards. That's not what others think. That's what I believe. I have 37 tabs open on my browser. I have hundreds of Pocketed articles on my mobile phone. And then I vainly write this post hoping someone would read it. They won't. Not unless I do something for them.

That, in essence, was the argument I repeated to myself over the past year. Every time I sat down to share my thoughts I aborted the attempt out of my own sense of insignificance in the larger scheme of things.

Not much has changed except that in the course of two years of Graduate studies, in a subject I barely knew before I spent a year or so crash coursing through it, and in a city that grows more beautiful by the day, I have decided to write for three readers who I know will read what I write.

And so we begin once more. I won't merely restart this blog. I shall write two of them. This one will continue to carry thoughts on current affairs, sports, books and life. The other shall be more technical. I have a lot to share and to eagerly discuss from the world of economics and finance. Two years have ensured I can carry a steady stream of posts that should appeal to at least some readers.

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story

of that man skilled in all ways of contending,

the wanderer, harried for years on end,

after he plundered the stronghold

on the proud height of Troy.

Draft Pick: Great Resilience

[I have at least a hundred draft blogs that I haven't published. Seeing that I am working on a few well-researched posts, I think it's a good time to release these sulking thoughts from the confines of the bench and into the bedlam that is the real world]

I: Written some time in August 2015

It's a familiar story.

At the end of every year commentators, sports writers and critics bring out a set of eulogies announcing the demise of yet another star player. It is a remarkable study in coordination, for the obituaries are similar and their glorious assessment of the sports player in question is marked by a dressing of pity.

These gurus can't be strictly mocked. It is a fact that a huge gamut of players undergo the steps of the product life cycle diagram (I am a student at a B school after all).

Books are published, interviews are scheduled and the verdict is quickly absorbed by the masses so that most of us share a feeling of dismissal for the once venerated player. Life's like that.

Except there are people - a handful of them today - who throw these premature judgement out of the window and into the gutter.

Lionel Messi is a case in point. No one would dare place him in the bracket of a has been. But over the course of a year whispers steadily strengthened to declarations that he was no longer that Messi the world admired. He had lost the Ballon D'Or to Cristiano Ronaldo, and before the start of this year, he was hopelessly behind him in the number of goals scored. Barcelona were flailing helplessly while Real Madrid were marching imperiously to the Liga title. Messi was fed up of the team he played for all his life. The world was changing.

Roger Federer is another, perhaps stronger example. It's been close to five years since the first set of journalists predicted his eviction from the top tier of tennis; the last couple have solidly questioned the damage played on his legacy if he dare continue. And they have a point. I mean Roger hasn't won a Grand Slam major since Wimbledon 2012 (even that was won after many outright dismissals of his chances). He's 33 for God's sake. Some of the commentators retired much before - at that age they were certainly not playing at the level Roger's at. But last year's run and the victory at Dubai over Novak Djokovic have wrecked havoc with these predictions. Not even a third round exit from the Australian Open could dampen the feeling of awe one felt for Roger's brilliance. No one has missed the transition in his playing style. How many greats can change their game the way he did?

More than sporting talent though my post posits we ought to spend our moments thinking about the belief these greats have in themselves. It is extraordinary - the world spent its collective breath elbowing the likes of Sachin Tendulkar (excuse the pun) out of the sport. And these people persevered. I cannot know if they were affected by the articles written and verdicts passed but I admire the way they dismissed the wave of dismissals.

Notable Book of the Year 2016: The Three-Body Problem

One of my favorite Hindi songs is Jo wada kiya woh nibhana padega. You know where I am going with this...

Or also, directly from the book

"But Ye had the mental habits of a scientist, and she refused to forget."

Wrapping up this belabored edition of Notable Books is Cixin Liu's The Three-Body Problem. It's a book that combines the contemporary history of China with a well utilized toolbox of cutting edge science research (with the usual liberties that push the envelope) to send the reader on a suspenseful and melancholic journey.

I have written before on the virtues of Science Fiction; about why it isn't categorized, typically, as Art in the world of literature by more established and conventional cliques.

I refrain from explaining much about the plot. If, by now, you've already checked the book's description somewhere you know but in case you haven't, DON'T DO IT. Buy it in good faith - not my own; the book won the Hugo Award last year.

Read the book and as I noted in Goodreads, experience the feeling of tension as the plot unravels and the individual streams connect to form a grand over-arching narrative.

I've already made this post very late so I'll end here. The Three-Body Problem is a trilogy and yours truly is already in the middle of the second part.

H

(This concludes a series of 5 posts on the best books I read through the year 2016. The last ones dealt with fiction, non-fiction,  comic books/graphic novels and the first one was an Autobiographical work. Follow me at hamstersqueaks.blogspot.in) 

Notable Book of the Year 2016 - The Vegetarian

“There's nothing wrong with keeping quiet, after all, hadn't women traditionally been expected to be demure and restrained?”

I've been meaning to write this review for several months now. I got derailed initially by the gruesome discovery of being allergic to Seltzer water, a discovery that was accompanied by pain and exhaustion for many a day. And just when I thought I was okay again, I realized I had my PhD Certifying Exams on the horizon. Fast approaching.

Anyway, after a nice and relaxing vacation (I cleared the exams; thanks for asking) I am back to finish what I started even if it is August and I should be getting ready a list for 2018. I think I have digressed enough.

So, why The Vegetarian? Arguably, the year saw some great works of fiction such as Zadie Smith's Swing Time or Elizabeth McKenzie's The Portable Veblen. That is true; it's just that my selection is a spectacular achievement on a different plane.

The Vegetarian is a dark, sordid novel. It reads very much like a horror movie. There is an icy feel to it that refuses to leave you. The author's tone immediately makes you believe that just about any bad thing could happen. Split across three parts, the novel touches on the inherent violence in relationships, and how the need to force outliers to conform to societal roles can end up damaging these individuals in the most awful way.

Han Kang is a Korean author who (as I understand it) has often touched on the lack of agency that women have in their lives. The Vegetarian is a gruesome story in the same vein except that its complexity and unpredictability - I struggle to mention any "similar" story - leaves you hooked and in suspense.

It's a short book and it wouldn't do justice to talk about it at great length. Suffice it to say that the main character, Yeong-hye, is introduced as an unremarkable woman who decides to turn vegetarian after seeing a disquieting and mysterious dream. Nothing that follows is quite according to script.

The Vegetarian is grotesque, its invasive imagery only faithfully accentuating the torture Yeong-hye sees through her life with perverse violations of her freedom. If you think you've gained an idea of what the book is about, believe me, you're probably wrong.

It's a story of estrangement with allegory in the class of Kafka. I am disappointed by the Goodreads score on it but then again, I've consistently noticed that the Goodreads community under-rates books that are multi-layered. That's just unfortunate.

Read The Vegetarian to experience a mythical story - it can be lifted from its own context and find resonance - if only through a trying and discomfiting ordeal - anywhere else in the world.

"That shuddering, sordid, gruesome, brutal feeling. Nothing else remains. Murderer or murdererd, experience too vivid to not be real. Determined, disillusioned. Lukewarm, like slightly cooled blood." 

(This is fourth in a series of 5 posts on the best books I read through the year 2016. The last ones were on non-fiction,  comic books/graphic novels and the first one was an Autobiographical work. The final book in this series will be a science fiction novel! Follow me at hamstersqueaks.blogspot.in)