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But when he won the Nobel Prize, it was for Literature. When you read this book of essays, you will see why.
It is beautifully written and has all of Russell's virtues: clarity, wit, humor, forcefulness, simplicity.
Even better, it is a brief education in itself. Most of the essays were written just as the Great Depression was beginning, and Russell gets right to the heart of a problem Capitalists and Socialists do not usually address: How much work is needed, and what is the ultimate point? He constantly stresses that we do too much work, and most of it is unneeded, and makes life grim. He never ceases to remind us that we should work to live, not live to work.
He addresses this point in many ways--through economics, through architecture, through the then-raging problems of Fascism and Communism. And though he treats serious problems seriously, he always has time for the breathtaking perspective and the ligtht touch--as with the essay, "Man Versus Insects."
A wonderful, even life-changing book.
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The tellings themselves are very fine. The language used is both delightful and sophisticated, making this a fine volume to entertain good readers amongst older children, and to expand their language skills. Of course, less able readers and younger children might like the stories just as well if they were read to them. There is no information in the book or on the publishers website regarding the origins of these particular tellings.
A sample paragraph, from "Thumbelina":
"Then they came to the warm lands. The sun was shining much more brightly, the sky was twice as high, and the most wonderful green and black grapes were growing by the roadside and on fences. Lemons and oranges hung in the forests, and there was a scent of myrtle and curled mint, and pretty children were running by the roadside playing with big colorful butterflies. But the swallow flew still further, and everything became even more beautiful. There, beneath magnificent green trees by a blue lake, stood a shining white palace, with vines climbing up it's lofty pillars. At the top were lots of swallows' nests, and the swallow carrying Thumbelina lived in one of them."
This collection contains the following stories:
The Emperor's New Clothes The Little Mermaid The Little Match Girl The Nightingale The Princess and the Pea The Steadfast Tin Soldier Thumbelina The Tinderbox The Ugly Duckling
The compilers, Russell Ash and Bernard Higton, must be very proud of the beautiful object they have produced. The publisher, Cronicle Books, deserves praise and support.
This book is a must, either for the child's library or the collectors shelf.
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His is an exercise in intellect and art, asking us to override all the art cliches and art history in our mind, and look at things differently.
In addition to the more classical canvases, Connor has also created a number of shirts with messages for our times (an illustration from Picasso's "Guernica" on a Right-to-Life shirt or Raphael's "Madonna and Child" on a Planned Parenthood shirt.)
Iconoclast to many, Russell's hijacking of the masters tweaks our mind, tests our wit, always just short of "STOP THIEF!"
What shines thru is his "mastery of the artist." His are skilled reproductions of the Masters, albeit a bit rearranged. While he describes himself as a "pirate," he is truly "an artist of his own time."
This published collection is well worth owning and sharing; it will provoke lively discussion.
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One of the odder aspects of the book to me was Russell's "idealism." On one page, he speaks of a mystical experience in which gave him a universal compassion for all mankind: on the very next page, he relates how he "fell out of love" with his wife, and then, how he ditched her. Passing from the same Bodhissattva-like musings elsewhere, he relates, on the next page or so, how he tried to strangle a friend in a rage. He can be sympathetic and even kind, but for a would-be Boddhisattva and fighter for the rights of women, he seems to have hurt a lot of ladies, in particular, rather badly. Yet his friendships in general, with both sexes, seem warm and affectionate.
I docked the book a star because the version I bought (Bantom) seemed dishonest in its packaging. The front and back covers show an old man, though this version only covers the period to 1914. On the back cover, it promises "more exciting episodes than most novels, details more intimate than most exposes, and more intensity of emotion than most fiction writers would dare ascribe to a single hero." Largely hype. This is not Dumas, or Augustine. It's a different kind of story.
Someone else on the back cover calls Russell "a Genius-Saint." Genius, maybe, but the second accolade implies very low standards for sainthood. The book did make me think Russell a more balanced figure than I thought. But part of that balance appears to have been something like madness, and something like cruelty. Intellectually, Russell was a brilliant man. Emotionally, he often strikes me as a lonely and bewildered child, angry at being abandoned, not sure where to look for love, and not sure how to give it.
author, Jesus and the Religions of Man
Apart from stating the obvious, that Bertrand Russell needs or should need little introduction, it is as well to say that his long life was spent, as far as it was public, in defending or promoting causes. Having gone to prison at a young age because he could not stomach the Kaiser's war (at least not quietly), he later returned, if only briefly, way off in the 1960s, defending the cause of CND in Trafalgar Square. That's quite a bit of history to cover, all from the same angle. It seems he never regretted the stand he took, nor altered his views substantially over the decades. He either had to condemn war openly and publicly, or condemn man privately, which meant taking his own life, something he says he thought about very seriously and decided against. For all his faults, whatever they were, it's quite hard to fault him!
The autobiography allows us to accompany him through the bulk of the twentieth century and see the development of various movements worldwide, in which he was always involved, at least at the level of the heart, but often actively. He uses letters a good deal in this text, and these throw light on that outer world which was so often pulling in an almost opposite direction. Yet he had his friends and in the bad years when he was a political outcast, a pariah of sorts in his own college (Trinity College, Cambridge) there were always those who could see his point of view and respect it. He was a stubborn man and his stubbornness allowed him to hang on for much longer than most people would have bothered. In fact, it seems that he remained true to himself right to the end, and in the end, that is what gave him life. An interesting book about a lively intelligence, sometimes brilliantly displayed.