List price: $12.95 (that's 20% off!)
Used price: $6.49
Buy one from zShops for: $7.25
Used price: $5.50
Collectible price: $7.95
Used price: $8.99
Collectible price: $18.00
Used price: $10.59
Used price: $32.76
Buy one from zShops for: $17.98
Waugh divides his African travel book into two sections (one dealing with the Abyssinian trip, the other with an extended tour through Zanzibar, Kenya, Uganda, the Congo and South Africa), and three nightmares, vividly detailing the various, accumulative problems that beset the traveller, such as unhelpful officials and lousy food. Waugh is a much more sympathetic voyager than the more heroic likes of Chatwin or Raban - his whining about lack of bath water or pesky mosquitos is more refreshing than some writers' spiritual journeys.
Despite his attempts at objectivity, 'Remote people' is written, as we might expect, from a very jaundiced viewpoint. Waugh's experiences aren't really 'Alice' at all, simply a concatenation of minor mishaps, local eccentricites and cultural differences in very poor countries that only a very insulated Englishman would blow up and find surreal. Some of Waugh's ill-advised political theorising, especially his unconvincing defence of the notorious white settlers in Kenya's Happy Valley, make for distinctly ncomfortable reading, although one is grateful for Waugh's evident and lucid integrity to his own beliefs. It is surprising in a book of 1931 to see how many of the issues raised by post-colonial theory were already being painfully argued about.
Of course, we don't read Waugh for politics or sympathy to foreigners. Although written in a more descriptive, less dialogue-driven style than the novels, we find the same account of bewildered, uprooted Modern Man faced with the problems (and comedy) of the simple fact of other people (American professors absurdly reverent of Ethiopian religious practice; Seventh Day Adventists prone to seasickness; colonial magnates encouraging staff and guests to climb life-threatening volcanos etc.). The travelogue is less interesting than the rich set-pieces - the Abyssinian coronation; the bathetic trip to an ancient monastary; a rooftop cinema where the audience wilt sleepily in the sun; the efforts of native scouts to light a fire; a berserk ship journey down river with the captain trying to shoot game from his cabin, his passengers leaping off to search for any hits.
Used price: $6.99
Buy one from zShops for: $12.95
List price: $16.95 (that's 30% off!)
Used price: $11.81
Buy one from zShops for: $11.75
"The Seven Deadly Sins" have originally been published in 1962 by The Sunday Times, and authors from England have written all seven contributions. The book does not rank the sins in any order (rankings are a very American obsession, and it seems the English have not been infected yet in the early sixties). However, it is very fitting for our democratic society to begin with ENVY, Angus Wilson's contribution, and to end the book with ANGER, W. H. Auden's contribution. Envy is the quintessential democratic "sin." Alain de Botton reflects that "envy comes from comparison and [...] the habit for everyone to compare themselves to everyone else is a particularly modern, democratic one." People envy only those who they feel themselves to be like: "There are few successes more unendurable than those of our closest friends [and] it follows that the more people we take to be our equals, the more we will be at risk of dissatisfaction." Which explains why a society of equals does not automatically lead to more happiness for its individual members. Anger is also a very democratic "sin" because anger tends to arise from a sense of entitlement: "We aren't overwhelmed by anger whenever we are denied an object we desire, only when we believe ourselves entitled to obtain it" (Alain de Botton). A sense of entitlement comes with democracy: we are not just in pursuit of happiness, we assume we are entitled to it.
Wedged between the highlights of Wilson's and Auden's articles are contributions by Edith Sitwell on PRIDE (a tongue-in-cheek confession to the "virtue" of pride), Cyril Connolly on COVETOUSNESS (a very funny short story about obsessive greed), Patrick Leigh-Fermor on GLUTTONY (an indigestible, rambling piece of writing - skip this part of the menu!), Evelyn Waugh on SLOTH ("Sloth is the condition in which a man is fully aware of the proper means of his salvation and refuses to take them," the state of rejecting the "spiritual good" which - in modern parlance - leads to depression, the contemporary cousin of sloth), and finally Christopher Sykes on LUST (a fine example of British common sense).
If we worry about happiness, not sin and virtue, why should we read about "The Seven Deadly Sins" at all? Why worry about the "good" when we can go out and have "fun" instead? The answer is: the "good" is about the value we attribute to our lives looking forward and looking back, the "fun" is just living it. In general, we are bad at "just living" or "living in the moment." but experts in reflecting on the past and planning for the future. It is a smart decision to build on our expertise and put some meaning into our lives to make looking back and forward more enjoyable. After all, the good life and the happy life are complementary, not mutually exclusive. Alain de Botton points it out just so well: "If we listen to pre-Christian philosophers, there is never a conflict between happiness and goodness. For Socrates, the sinful man is at the same time the miserable man, the good one the happy one. It's only with the arrival of Christianity that a conflict starts to appear and that, unwittingly, it starts to seem as though being good is dull and not likely to lead one to happiness, while sinfulness is bad, but actually rather fun."
Used price: $0.01
Collectible price: $9.51
Buy one from zShops for: $0.35
Used price: $6.38
Collectible price: $9.52