I highly recommend this book for a novice magician who would like to perform proffesional tricks within hours. It's a magic book that is more than just a book on magic. The book contains more than 36 complete instructions tricks as well as 16 pages that can be cut out to make apparatus for actual tricks. The book emphasis on deception rather than elaborate sleight of hand. The book holds sections on mental magic, impromptu magic, card magic, table magic and oriental magic

Traditionally, four major East Asian languages have used Chinese characters for their writing systems: Vietnamese, Korean, Japanese, and, of course, Chinese. Wm. C. Hannas knows all of them, and in this book he uses that extensive knowledge to deliver a broadside against the Chinese characters' lack of efficiency as a writing system.

Anyone familiar with John DeFrancis' work on the Chinese language will recognize some of Hannas' arguments (DeFrancis writes the forward for this book and was clearly an inspiration for Hannas' work). But Hannas is more wide-ranging in his scholarship and goes further with his arguments.

The first part of the book introduces the four major languages that have used Chinese characters for their writing systems, introducing them in order of the frequency they presently use the characters. Thus, Chinese -- which is comprised entirely of characters -- is introduced first and Vietnamese -- which no longer uses any characters -- is introduced last. This part describes the history of each languages' writing system and is highly readable.

After the languages have been introduced, the second part of the book critiques the Chinese character-based writing system. This part varies between highly readable sections and some more abstruse sections that deal with linguistic, analytical, and even psychological arguments that require close readings by the layman who doesn't have an expertise or at least a strong interest in those areas. But these arguments are the meat of Hannas' book as he looks at what Chinese characters represent, reading and literacy in Chinese character-based scripts, and even whether those writing systems are really appropriate for East Asian languages as some people have argued.

The third and final part winds down with a look at why reform of the Chinese character-based writing system fails (as Hannas argues it does) as well as what the future is likely to hold for it. One chapter alone is dedicated to the effect computers are having on characters. I found this part the least plausible of the three and also somewhat repetitive as arguments made earlier were restated.

While I agree with most of Hannas' general arguments and found his book both highly interesting and entertaining, I also think he greatly overstates his case. Hannas seems to actually believe that characters are on their way out. The growth in education and wealth, as well as the general social vibrance found in so many of the societies which still use Chinese characters suggests, at the very least, that perhaps inefficiency in a writing system is simply not an important aspect to a well-functioning, modern society -- that whatever impact it has is more negligible than Hannas imagines.

But disagreements over some of its points shouldn't be a reason not to read this outstanding book. Hannas' scholarship, lucid writing, and forceful exposition will give anyone who has experience with any of the East Asian languages that use Chinese characters a wonderful read.

I found this book to be a well written and interesting look at the use of Chinese characters. It uncovers some of the commonly held misconceptions about the use of the characters. It does a very thorough job of examining the differences between them and phonetic alphabetic scripts. The book covers the use of characters in China, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam. The view of Hannas is that the characters are "on their last leg". I have discussed this book with several of my Chinese, Japanese, and Korean friends and they all seem to disagree with Hannas and are not in favor of abolishing the use of the characters. Hannas claims that he is not writing from the point of view of a disgruntled Westerner, but sometimes this is hard to believe. The introduction by John DeFrancis states that Hannas is one of the few people (Western or Asian) to have mastered Chinese (several "dialects")Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese. I would highly recommend this book for anyone curious about East Asian languages. As an aside, I'm sure that an Asian could find plenty of things about English that do not make sense and should be changed!

This work is a highly polemical look at the writing systems of East Asian languages, specifically those that use Chinese characters. The author is out to demolish standard ideas about the use of Chinese characters in Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese, and he does a thorough and persistent job of it. The book is accordingly much more exciting than a straightforward introduction to these writing systems could ever be. What is more, the author's insights are pretty well spot on, although not likely to endear him to those who entertain the myths that he sets out to demolish (which includes most speakers of these languages). Bold, refreshing, and definitely recommended.

This ghosted autobiography is recommended to anyone interested in how the Hollywood animation industry of the golden age adapted to the labour-intensive demands of television. As one half of the Hanna-Barbera team that created Tom and Jerry for MGM in the forties and pioneered low-budget, high-output TV animation in the fifties, Bill Hanna has much of interest to say about the economic aspects of an artform that, during this period, was largely transformed by commercial concerns. However, if lively insight into the creative process is what you're looking for, this book is not for you. Hanna is essentially a business man, with his partner Joe Barbera apparently handling the creative side. The pleasure he takes in relating the building of H-B as a successful studio makes satisfying reading, but one often has the impression that he could have been involved in virtually any business -- it just happened to be animation. Therefore, the decline in quality from the early H-B TV shows onward is defended on the grounds that numerous jobs were created by the new conveyor-belt process, while the comparatively bland nature of so much latterday Saturday morning product (the early TV shows are great in their way) is justified on the grounds that it is "wholesome" (a favourite word), as if cartoons should only be made for young children. Hanna's philosophy is probably acceptable within the context of H-B's juvenile TV work, but falls down when he tries to present it as a continuation of the MGM shorts, where Tom and Jerry's more universal appeal was based partly on the artistry and expense with which their adventures were presented and partly on the fact that their relationship was the antithesis of wholesome -- violent and antagonistic to the end (and certainly not one of Hanna's "cast of friends" in spite of the uncharacteristic picture of them on the cover). I've previously found it hard to reconcile the high standards and complexity of the Tom and Jerrys with the worst of latter-day H-B, yet, between-the-lines, this honest account helps to explain the connection. It also acts as a reminder of how commercial demands can upend even the most successful of artistic ventures.

I looked forward to reading Hannas' most recent work, having greatly enjoyed his previous book, "Asia's Orthographic Dilemma". I knew Hannas to be both a thorough and entertaining scholar, with persuasive if somewhat controversial arguments; I believed that if he kept up the same standards he showed in his last book, I would probably enjoy this one as well.

Unfortunately, "The Writing on the Wall" fails to deliver. In the book, Hannas seeks to prove a bold thesis -- that the creativity of East Asians (Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese) is hampered by their scripts. He narrowly defines "creativity" as the ability to come up with revolutionary ideas in modern science.

The first third of the book starts off badly. Hannas runs through the various methods that Japan, China, and Korea use to acquire Western -- primarily U.S. -- technology. But, surprisingly, he seems to think that just by highlighting this well-known fact, he already proves one of his main points: that East Asians lack creativity. He does this by completely ignoring context and making inapt comparisons.

South Korea, for example, has an economy and population about the size of Spain. What sense does it make to compare South Korean research efforts to those by U.S. scientists? In that kind of comparison, South Korea will naturally come up short. But would it come up short in a comparison with a country of its own size and development, one that used an alphabetic script? Hannas doesn't even consider it.

And while China is a huge country, its ability to provide first-rate R&D facilities and the funding to run them is greatly limited (I don't even include the obvious point that China's basic educational infrastructure is so weak in comparison to the developed countries in the West that such spending would probably be wasted anyway, even if it had the money). Does this mean the Chinese are not creative? Or is the more likely explanation that China's development is not high or broad enough yet to support those kinds of projects? Hannas doesn't even consider these questions.

Japan, however, is a large and fully developed economy, flush with cash (even after ten years in an economic rut), and equipped with a solid educational infrastructure. Certainly a comparison between it and the U.S. is worthwhile to consider. But even here, Hannas does not explore the issue enough. He admits, for example, that Japanese corporations are where most of the country's R&D money is spent, and where practical applications are put at a premium; he also says Japan spends less per capita on R&D than the U.S. But he doesn't connect the dots. Isn't a more parsimonious explanation for why Japan appears less creative than the U.S. due to economic rather than linguistic factors?

In another section of the book, Hannas argues that the development of an alphabetic script gave rise to Greek science. He does not consider, however, why the Romans - who also had an alphabetic script - had a stable, long-lasting, wealthy, and relatively free (for its time) empire not noted for its science. Again, Hannas does not consider these points, probably because he would have to admit they do grave damage to his thesis.

There are other arguments to consider. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, some said the U.S. didn't have enough creative people, that its collective mindset was of a more practical bent than theoretical. It could produce a Ford, but not an Einstein. Not until just before WW2, after a large influx of European scientists into the U.S., did this situation change. Could the U.S. have produced the atomic bomb or gone to the moon without these Europeans? Would its universities be as well respected as they are now if these scientists had not been forced or felt compelled to leave their homes to come to the United States? Not likely. Hannas' refusal to consider these other cases in his comparative study raises questions about the validity of his arguments for the cases he does consider.

Perhaps to deflect such criticism of his thesis, Hannas says several times in his book that his idea about East Asians lacking creativity is not controversial in East Asia, that it is the conventional wisdom there. But Hannas bucks the conventional wisdom so often in his book - especially in linguistics - I'm not sure why he would take the East Asians' word for this particular commonly known fact. In my experience, East Asians are very hard on themselves in some areas, unwilling to take credit where credit might be due. Part of the reason they are such fearsome competitors is due to this nature. That they hold symposiums on the lack of creativity in their schools has probably as much to do with their perceived second-rate status in this area as it has to do with anything else; in other words, if they are not the best, they consider it a problem.

Due to space constraints, I cannot go over the final two-thirds of the book in any detail. Suffice it to say, the book improves somewhat, but not enough to save it. Hannas does cite an enormous amount of interesting studies in these chapters, but unfortunately he is still unable to make a coherent argument. Instead he tries a scatter-shot approach against the East Asian scripts, hoping that enough of his material hits the mark to do damage. Some does; some doesn't. What one finally comes away with from this book is similar to what one came away with from Hannas' first book: East Asian scripts are unwieldy and inefficient. But the author fails to advance his new case that they actually inhibit scientific creativity.

"The Writing On The Wall" by William Hannas opens eyes and minds to new arguments about nature or nurture. The timeworn topic is well worth exploring, and it is especially interesting when a Westerner looks across several Asian regions to address it. Fortunately, the author speaks Vietnamese, three dialects spoken in China, Japanese, and Korean. His perspective is unique among Westerners and his views are worthy of careful note.

The book reminds us that China was an empire with a central authority, and all were subordinated to the emperor. So it was for thousands of years; and so it is today with the Communist Party as emperor. Where is there a need to be creative unless it is to devise methods to bring greater glory and power to the State?

This seems similar to the Middle Ages in Europe. Kings and barons ruled fiefs, and their subordinates curried favor. Again, what else was there to do? But, when the kings and other powerbrokers began to speak and write the languages of the little people rather than Latin and French, things began to change. In East Asia today the powerbrokers write in a language [character based] that the little people do not easily comprehend. Memorizing 3,000 characters certainly supports exercising form over substance. And, as in Mandarin times, having completed the form, one could enter the elite. Today, one must perform what work to enter the elite? Answer: memorize 3,000 characters, perform exceptional Party (emperor) work, or be closely related to one who has.

The main job today in China is to accrue power and hegemony. There's little scope for creativity here, given the thousands of years China has practiced at it. So how creative does today's Chinese elite need to be? Only enough to keep the West away from the door, for example by fanning the fires in the Middle East and being able to hold the U.S. 7th Fleet at bay. These seem like simple tasks that can be accomplished with a bit of technology transfer to upgrade antiship weapons and build nuclear strategic deterrence. The technology transfer is well documented in the book and woe to the West for letting it happen so easily.

So is it nature or nurture? Hannas clearly notes that there are many Chinese who have emigrated to the West who have demonstrated creativity. The role of spoken and written Asian languages in creativity is worthy of consideration, and it is well covered in this book.

Dr. Hannas' book The Writing on the Wall answers the question of the lack of creativity in East Asian countries. He has found the correlation between this and the use of the Chinese non-alphabetic character system. I am very much impressed by his extensive research on the subject matter. I concur with Dr. Hannas that ever since the invention of alphabetic systems more than two thousand years ago, all non-alphabetic systems have become inefficient legacy systems -- to quote current IT jargon. Unfortunately, the persistence of the Chinese character linguistic legacy still mars the creativity and productivity of more than one-fifth of mankind who live in East Asia and are handicapped by this archaic writing system. I enjoyed reading Dr. Hannas' well written book and strongly recommend it to all who are interested in learning more about world language issues and, in particular, the implications of the Chinese character system for countries in East Asia.

+++++++++

This book is not what I expected. I thought it was going to go more in depth to what the title suggested. I wasn't thinking Backyard wrestling, but I was hoping for at least some lines of text that wouldn't insult my intelligence. This book would be better suited for the first time wrestling viewer who wanted to take it a whole different level.

I thought this was a big help in starting my own fantasy league for professional wrestling. All major sports have their fantasy leagues, why shouldn't pro wrestling? The author made it easy to understand to set up your own league with your friends and allowed you to make up your own decisions and rules to fit your group. An original idea and safer than trying backyard wrestling.