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Contains detailed essays on the roots of the blues, the evolution, and different styles of blues, such as Delta, Chicago, Piedmont, West Coast.....And also has music maps showing the influences on different styles of blues, as well as describing the most influential artist in each respective style.
I don't buy an album without consulting this, or the jazz edition. This blues edition is so comprehensive it even delves into gospel, jazz, and a bit of soul music.
Full of great information. I am sure that this is the best blues encyclopedia available.
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Yet, for all of that, there are a number of areas, a few of them quite significant, where this book is ultimately unsatisfying. I found it odd, for example, that there is not a word in the book about the peculiar Bauman affair in 1904. Bauman (for whom the most famous technical institute in Moscow is named) was a disgusting character who seduced and impregnated a married fellow Bolshevik, and then boasted about it, ridiculing her in public. When her appeals to him for help fell on deaf ears, she appealed to the Party, and ultimately committed suicide. Lenin's decision to laugh this off, as the essentially harmless prank of one of his own, reveals quite early Lenin's basically amoral nature. Similarly, the dispute with the Mensheviks over "Exes", ie armed robberies to 'expropriate the expropriators', as Lenin infelicitously put it, is hardly addressed, even though this issue was not insignificant. It turned on the question of the Party's reputation (and, consequently, its potential for recruitment and its appeal to society) - was it to be a high-minded, even idealistic political organ, or was it to be besmirched by these activities, and thus identified with gangsters and their base criminality? Lenin recognized the Menshevik point, in principle, but actually did nothing to discourage Stalin's and others' gangsterism (indeed, quite the opposite) - again, an episode revealing Lenin's absence of moral standard. Service also ignores the last act of the suppression of the Constituent Assembly on Jan. 6 (OS), when the Bolsheviks gunned down the small demonstration of support, killing 20. (To be fair, this episode is hardly remembered today by anyone, including the most famous names in the writing of Russian history. Instead, they almost uniformly disparage Russian society, particularly the intelligentsia, for cowardice and irresolution in the apparent absence of any support for the Assembly. True, the demonstration was not massive, but those who marched knew, surely, what was likely awaiting them. These victims bear the conscience of Russia's commitment to its first democratic institution, and it is just shameful to ignore or forget them.) Or, the infamous expulsion of the flower of Russian intellectual life, the nearly 300 academics, world-renown scholars, and cultural figures in 1922 who, in a moment of uncharacteristic generosity, were not murdered on the spot, but actually permitted to take two pieces of clothing into permanent exile.
Inclusion of these relatively minor matters might have undermined the work's brevity and accessibility. Perhaps, but what is one to make of more major omissions? In particular, it can be shown that Lenin not only was not disturbed by the development of the Civil War, but actually welcomed and encouraged it. In fact, it is not too much to say that he, far more than any other single individual, caused it. In a series of decrees and directives, he made it impossible for the former "ruling classes", including the only nascent bourgeoisie, to live. Their turn to active resistance was most often undertaken very reluctantly (the sorry defense of the Constituent Assembly is but one example), an act of desperation and a simple matter of life and death, something to which they were goaded and prodded. Lenin was even surprised that it took so long. There is no evidence that Service is aware of the proof of this in Stephan Courtois' "Black Book of Communism" and Nicolas Werth's book-length article there on Russia.
Further, while Service cites some chilling documentation on Lenin's sanguinary attack on the church, he does not detail the well-known incident at Shuya, the most revealing of them all. It was this that served as the trigger for his shockingly violent rhetoric, long concealed, calling for the destruction of the church and the murder of its ecclesiastics. Again, see Werth.
It is in matters of interpretation that the reader is left most dissatisfied. While there is plenty of evidence scattered throughout the book to damn Lenin as completely amoral, the reader comes away from the book without a clear statement or unequivocal understanding of this crucial insight. In fact, I would argue that there is something pathological at work in a man who is absolutely incapable of any introspection, a pathology that remains unidentified and uninvestigated by Service. To cite the most critical example, there is no evidence that Lenin ever questioned, much less regretted, making the Revolution, despite the fact that it had violated all of his own theoretical principles. Yet, early on, certainly by 1920, it was possible to see that the Mensheviks were right in opposing it. It was catastrophic: Mass murder and massive starvation were its direct result. For Lenin, though, ideology takes second place to reality. This unstable balance between theory and necessity is crucial to understanding Lenin. And, the pathology which permits it, without internal debate or vacillation, had devastating implications for his subjects, but it is not explored.
Lenin's view of Russia as nothing but a backwater, only good for igniting the real revolution in the west, and of Russians as incompetent bunglers is never given the emphasis it deserves, nor the ultimate irony of his remaining in state on Red Square. Were it so, Service would perhaps see this, and the current condition of Russia, as possibly the ultimate revenge of history.
One of the better reasons to read Service is that while he has no qualms about outlining the viciousness and brutality of Lenin and the Bolsheviks, he is also not a hard line ideologue. He is a historian and he takes history as he finds it. There is none of the strident cold-war dogmatism of Conquest or the russophobia of Pipes that often make their writings come uncomfortably close to political diatribes rather than analytical histories.
Service walks the fine line between personal and political biography fairly well. He also has the added bonus of being a good narrative historian which makes this an immensily readable book.
Lenin's early life is covered in good detail. What Service does well is to show how, after brother Alexander's excecution, the Ulyanovs were marginalized by the very class of society they had aspired to, and how this effected both Lenin and his sisters. Service goes on to show the interaction between Lenin and his female relatives and how this carried on throughout his life.
Being a total biography- personal and political- the political side gets a bit of a short shrift at times. Lenin as shown as the "bookish fanatic" and hypocondriact who is all revolution all the time with little time to spare in life for other diversions.
His single-mindedness is such that he dictates executions (never naming individuals just groups) to achieve his ends. What Service show best is how his temperament in childhood carried on to his political life- never brooking disagreement- throwing tantrums and denounciations- and rarely compromising.
And yet Lenin is at heart, a middle class bourgeois in his social manners. His personal relationships with women are not especially notorious save for a life-long relationship with Inessa Armand who may or may not have been his mistress.
Personal without being gossipy and showing Lenin's idiocincracies without being psychoanalytical, Service handles his biography well. All in all this is a highly readable, not perfect, but enjoyable biography of the life of one of the century's most notorious figures.
Instead, as Service's book reveals, Lenin was an ideologue who, while having the best interests of the country in mind, was willing to ruthlessly kill thousands of people to maintain his dictatorship. Service does an excellent job of depicting Lenin as a many sided individual, and he includes lots of background information on the personal side of his life that makes it easier for one to view him as a real person (also, it is often easy to see connections between his actions as a politican and his personal life).
All in all - a great biography for anyone wishing to understand the true Lenin.
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There are things here that you won't find in Fleck and Kraemer's book, but I think the average practitioner would find DRTP more useful overall. Although I'm not really an expert myself (I'm an interested layman), I think this book would mainly be of interest to strength and conditioning experts, and to those with a keen interest in comparing former-Soviet vs. western training ideas. I may have been inclined to give this book five stars if I hadn't already read DRTP and "Essentials of Strength and Conditioning", both of which I think are slightly stronger than this book.
On the other hand, Arthur Drechsler in the annotated bibliography of his "The Weightlifting Encyclopedia" says this about Zatsiorsky's book: "A very interesting and imaginative work by one of today's best thinkers and researchers on this subject, especially in the area of training for increased power." He lists DRTP without comment, so I have to assume he liked this book better.
This is a must-read book for serious sports strength and conditioning coaches. It's a little too technical for the average fitness trainee, however. The format is a bit like a scholastic textbook, not a how-to book.
This is the one book you should read before you read any other "serious" strength training books. To get a solid foundation, then move onto other stuff.
Eric
The End
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Richard Pipes does an excellent job of providing the reader with a comprehensive view of the early regime - few topics go untouched. More importantly, this book is based on a large amount of factual, documented information, some of which has been made available by the recently opened archives in Russia.
This is one of the most authoritative books I have read about the Soviet Union. In the words of the person who recommended it to me - "You'll understand nothing about the Soviet Union if you haven't read this book."
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Nabokov does not hide from the reader that his main character will have a bad ending, even though at some point in the novel one feels he might have a chance.
This book is delicious. Nabokov's cynicism and his choice of words make this book near perfect. For those who are cynics, this book is very funny and enjoyable. Nabokov is very straight forward and this book is not hard to understand at all, and it is also not psychologically opressive.
For some strange reason, it reminded me of Balzac's Eugene Grandet, another one of my favorite books
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The above was taken from one of Nabokov's own journal entries and, although it may seem humorous, it is no doubt true. Pulitzer-Prize winner, Stacy Schiff, suggests, even in the title of her book, that Véra Nabokov was a woman who was only capable of being known as Mrs. Vladimir Nabokov. Her relationship with her famed husband, no matter what its course, was the defining factor of her life. And Véra would have it no other way.
Véra Nabokov has been described as Vladimir Nabokov's "disciple, bodyguard, secretary-protector, handmaiden, buffer, quotation-finder, groupie, advance man, nursemaid and courtier." She is, not unjustly, celebrated as being the ultimate Woman Behind the Man.
Véra graduated from the Sorbonne as a master of modern languages, but, sadly, she did not keep copies of her own work as she did her husband's. In fact, she probably would have denied that her own work was worth keeping, although everything leads us to believe otherwise.
In addition to transcribing, typing and smoothing Valdimir's prose while it was still "warm and wet," Véra cut book pages, played chauffeur, translated, negotiated contracts and did the many practical things her famous husband disdained. This remarkable woman even made sure that the butterflies he collected died with the least amount of suffering.
A precocious child who read her first newspaper at the age of three, Véra was born into a middle-class Jewish family at the beginning of the twentieth-century in Czarist St. Petersburg. In 1921, with the advance of communism, her family settled in Berlin. It was there that she met the dapper and non-Jewish Vladimir. Their marriage would last fifty-two years and be described as an intensely symbiotic coupling.
Although Vladimir traveled and conducted several affairs, Véra supported him throughout, struggling to raise their son amidst the Nazism that was beginning to fester in Berlin. Blaming herself for her husband's infidelity, Véra managed to rejuvenate her marriage and the couple moved again--this time to New York City--where Véra typed Valdimir's manuscripts in bed while recovering from pneumonia. Forever believing in her husband's creative instincts, Véra stood by his art even when debt threatened to overtake them. It was she who intervened on the several occasions when Vladimir attempted to burn his manuscript of Lolita.
Véra Nabokov's tombstone bears the epithet, "Wife, Muse and Agent," and Nabokov knew the immensity of the debt he owed her. Late in life, he even refused to capture a rare butterfly he encountered in a mountain park for the sole reason that Véra was no longer at his side. Like her husband, Véra had highly developed aesthetic tastes and the two enjoyed a "tender telepathy." Often described as "synesthetes," the couple would have debates about "the color of Monday, the taste of E-flat." It is certainly without exaggeration that Nabokov wrote to Véra, "I need you, my fairy tale. For you are the only person I can talk to--about the hue of a cloud, about the singing of a thought, and about the fact that when I went out to work today and looked at each sunflower in the face, they all smiled back at me with their seeds."
Although many feel the Véra should have been encouraged to develop her own considerable talents, it can be argued that she did, and that her greatest talent was that of wife and helpmate. It is certainly one she choose freely and without rancor. The fact that her husband was fortunate, indeed, cannot be denied.
Véra is a book rich in detail, analysis and affection. Like all couples and all marriages, the Nabokovs were unique and they were special. To know one, was to glimpse the other, for with the passing of years, neither was wholly himself or herself. There are those who might not have understood Véra Nabokov's choices and might not have agreed with them, but they are the ones who have never known the ecstasy of a truly close relationship. Véra Nabokov was a most fascinating woman, one that made her own choices in life and lived them most happily. We can only admire her greatly.
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Nonetheless, I think that he is an interesting and at times challenging writer. In this book as in most of his others, it is fatal to give up half way through, as often the book's full effect and meaning only become apparent at or near the end. It's best to read this novel in as few sittings as possible to get the best effect - I shouldn't think that it would work as well in many, short bursts of reading. You need to immerse yourself in the claustrophobic and melancholic world created by Nabokov.
The story revolves around Adam Krug and his son David, who is seized by by agents of a totalitarian state. Will Krug recover the boy by submitting to the demands of the state? Thus the central theme of the novel is the love of the father for his son, most often conveyed in flash-backs. Nabokov confirms in his introduction that this indeed was his main theme, and disclaimed any idea that the novel was a political critique or satire. Take such statements at face value if you wish, but there's too much satire/criticism in the novel for that to be true. It would not be the novel it is without that totalitarian background: the claustrophobia and near Kafkaesque feeling of individual helplessness enhance the feelings of worry and despair Krug feels when his son disappears.
So, a novel to take time out to immerse yourself in, and overall to be patient with.
And BEND SINISTER, for my money, is the more frightening of the two. Bad ideas often prove less dangerous than madmen and madwomen who would tear down to world to avenge childhood slights.
Look out. The common man has taken over Ekwist and his name is Paduk. Paduk, the socially inept son of an inventor of insane gadgets such as a typewriter that duplicates one¡¯s own handwritten script, has seized control of the Eastern European backwater and only one thing stands in his way of complete domination: Adam Krug.
Krug, a world famous though colossally misunderstood philosopher, is Ekwist¡¯s only claim to global fame. Paduk needs Krug¡¯s allegiance if he is to have legitimacy. There are also unspoken old scores to settle: Krug and Paduk went to school together and the young philosopher had tormented the young dictator, dubbing him with the nickname toad, embarrassing him sexually and sitting on his face at every opportunity.
When Krug refuses to be bought with the highest academic post in the land, one of his friends after another starts disappearing. Krug, however, still refuses to sign a ridiculous oath of allegiance (which is partly plagiarized from Lenin). His resistance appears less heroic than an act of sheer stubbornness and intellectual snobbery, almost a personal indulgence.
But Paduk¡¯s henchmen finally get to Krug through his young son, David. How they do it is simply too horrible for me to repeat. Imagine something nearly unthinkable and you are half-way there. To be honest, the unspeakable fate David suffers (far worse than anything Lolita endures) soured the book for me. But such as with Nabakov¡¯s other controversial works, LOLITA, with its pedophilia, and ADA, with its paean to teenage incest, I can¡¯t honestly say that I regret reading the book, nor would I deny the experience to anyone else. Nabokov is that damn good.
I also can¡¯t honestly deny that this book is the work of a genius. It boasts several comic scenes worthy of the best of Monty Python. In one, Krug bounces from checkpoint to checkpoint on a bridge manned by idiotic and paranoid soldiers because he has no entry pass for one gate and no exit pass from the other. Equally side-splitting is Krug¡¯s savage dismissal of a mediocre academic sent by Paduk to woo him.
An optional course in this mini-feast of a book (it is only 201 pages) is this red herring served by Nabokov in his later essays, in which he claimed (it is hard to spot this when reading BEND SINISTER) that during the book Krug becomes aware that he is only Nabokov¡¯s creation, prompting him to undertake an existential revaluation of his own bonds with his friends and family. Krug seems to come to the conclusion that his love for his son is real whether he is or not, which may be Nabokov¡¯s biggest joke or his greatest truth or both.
The novel is (one is tempted to say "of course") beautifully written. Passage after passage is lushly quotable, featuring VN's elegant long sentences, lovely imagery, and complexly constructed metaphors; as well as his love of puns, repeated symbols, and humour. The characters are well-portrayed also -- Krug, of course, and his friends such as Ember and Maximov, as well as villains such as the Widmerpoolish dictator Paduk and the sluttish maid Mariette. The novel, though ultimately quite tragic, is filled with comic scenes, such as the arrest of Ember, and comic set-pieces, such as the refugee hiding in a broken elevator. As VN asserts, the relationship between Adam Krug and his son is the fulcrum on which the novel turns, and it is from that the novel gains its emotional power. But much of the novel is taken up with rather broad satire of totalitarian communism. The version portrayed here is of course an exaggeration of the true horror that so affected Nabokov's life, but it still has bite. The central philosophy of the new regime is not Marxism per se, but something called "Ekwilism", which resembles the philosophy satirized in Kurt Vonnegut's short story "Harrison Bergeron" -- it is the duty of every citizen to be equal to every other, and thus great achievement is unworthy. (It is not to be missed that Paduk was a failure and a pariah at school.) All this is bitterly funny, but almost unfortunate, in that it is so over the top in places that it can be rejected as unfair to the Soviet system which it seems clearly aimed at. That's really beside the point, however -- taken for itself, Bend Sinister is beautifully written, often very funny, and ultimately wrenching and tragic.
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And yet, in the last few pages, Nabokov redeemed the story for me - sometimes it is worth persevering. It's best not to spoil the ending too much for those who haven't read the book, but careful concentration over the last pages bore fruit for me. I even forgave Nabokov for irritating me with the descriptions of yet another Cambridge fop (Darwin): how many of these quasi-Waugh Oxbridge stereotypes pop up in twentieth-century fiction?
One of the messages of the work for me was to engage with life, expect change, accept that people and situations will alter as time moves on. To paraphrase Proust: it's strange that people act as though today will last forever when all of our experience should tell us the opposite, that change is the normal state of affairs.
The edition that I read was the Penguin Twentieth-Century Classics edition, with its blurb that largely quotes Nabokov himself. And in his own words he says 'In general Glory is my happiest thing. ................. although nothing much happens at the very end ...........' If this is in any way off putting (novels are supposed to be about tension and resolution after all) I recommend you ignore it. For me, despite what the author says, EVERYTHING happens at the end.
I expected the book to be somewhat more "readable" rather than a catalogue of artists; however, it is useful as the latter. You will not be disappointed with the volume, and you will probably pull it out frequently when shopping for blues music, reviewing artists heard on public radio's blues shows, or when browsing the internet for non-copyrighted blues recordings (many of the oldest recordings are in public domain).
The price also makes it worthwhile. If it guides you toward a single, more satisfying blues recording (or helps you avoid a single stinker), then it's paid for itself.