Ash

I want to love this book. It has everything that I typically like to read: an adventure, fantastical creatures, a historical setting, and yet, I'm on my second try of trying to read it, but I just can't. I lose interest despite the pretty artwork and themes I usually enjoy.

DNF at 20%, for good this time. I don't think I'll try to read it a 3rd time.

Read my full review here: https://vicsense.wordpress.com/2018/01/07/a-thousand-pieces-of-you-firebird-1/

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THE COVER IS GORGEOUS.

RUSSIAN PAUL IS GORGEOUS.

THE CHIVALRY AND VALOR IS BLINDING.

I”m all about narratives set in Imperial Russia. Lieutenant Markov is the best; too bad he isn't a main character.

This review will look at each story individually.————The Judgment (pp.77-88)★★[read: 12/12/21] This one was definitely strange, even for Kafka. It read as a disjointed dream that left me scratching my head as to it's meaning. The protagonist of the short story, Georg, starts off the narration by writing a letter to his childhood friend who lives in St-Petersburg, Russia (we assume that Georg is somewhere in Germanic Europe). One day, Georg is engaged to be married and decides to write to his friend to let him know. However, before mailing the letter, he talks with his father and ‘warns' him about his intent to inform his friend. This is where the story takes a strange turn: the father, who is old and seems a bit demented, begins to rail on his son and tells him that he doesn't have a friend in Russia, because he, the father, has been secretly communicating with him all these years and pushed him away from Georg. At the very end, Georg's father tells him that he should drown himself, which is exactly what Georg does: he runs out of the house and jumps into the river. Georg's last actions are very nonsensical, and the ‘message' of this story is unclear. The judgment from the title happens in two fold: 1) Georg judges his friend in Russia for his lifestyle and assumes things about him, and 2) Georg's father judges him on his ability to run the family company, to honour his deceased mother, and to take care of his ailing father.The Metamorphosis (pp.89-139)★★★★★[read: 12/12/21]The Metamorphosis is the first Kafka story I ever read, and I have reread it a number of times over the year because it is my absolute favourite of his. Truth be told, I have a bad phobia of cockroaches, and the idea of being transformed into one is beyond terrifying to me. However, this novella is so unique and intriguing, I can't help myself from loving it. Gregor Samsa is an ordinary man who works as a travelling salesman and who wakes up one morning transformed into a giant bug (technically, the type of insect is not specified, but historically we have often associated it to cockroaches because they are disgusting). The whole narrative follows Gregor's train of thoughts as he processes what happened to him and wonders about what will happen to his job, his family, etc. The transformation that takes place is in allegory of how society alienates its individuals. Furthermore, the story comments heavily on family dynamics, with Gregor's austere father and sister being the antitheses to his more liberal self.In The Penal Colony (pp.140-168)★★★★★[read: 09/12/21]I chose to read this short story first out of the collection because of current work I'm doing on law in literature. I'm used to Kafka's nightmarish stories, but this one in particular is very chilling and disturbing. the story features four characters: The Condemned, the Soldier, The Explorer, and the Officer. The Explorer is asked to assist the execution of the Condemned, and is told about the method of execution: a machine, the Harrow, that engraves the literal sentence of the prisoner into his skin until he dies of his wounds (which can take up to 12 hours). The Explorer quickly realizes how inhumane and cruel this method is, especially because there is no chance for the Condemned to defend himself. Much like the witch trials of old, the Condemned is put to death based on hearsay and is denied the right to know what his sentence is (as well as the reason for it). The Officer complains that the New Commandant of the penal colony does his utmost to have this tradition fall out of favour by denying him funds to repair/upkeep the machine, having lowered attendance to the executions, and inviting foreigners like the Explorer to come and witness the executions (and hopefully stand up against the injustice of it). The Officer wishes for the Explorer to be on his side, but the latter refuses. In the end, the machine breaks down when the Officer feeds it the “be just!” verdict and lays himself beneath the apparatus to receive his punishment. The Officer, who cherished and respected the machine, and who believed in this system wholeheartedly, is violently murdered by his own contraption. The allusions here to Dostoevsky's [b:Crime and Punishment 7144 Crime and Punishment Fyodor Dostoevsky https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1382846449l/7144.SY75.jpg 3393917] are clear as day, and the allegorical representation of WWI is embodied in the Officer and the Old Commandant.

Format read: paperback
Reading time: 2 hours
Tags: historical, war, female agency, proto-feminism, politics, ancient Greece, theatre, comedy
Own a copy: yes
Reread likelihood: 8/10

Summary
The Peloponnesian War has been going on for too long, according to the women of Sparta and Athens, the two warring city states. Lysistrata, a young Athenian woman, decides one day that enough is enough; the war must end, and the women are the ones who will stop it. To achieve this, Lysistrata comes up with a brilliant plan that will drive the men to their knees: withhold sexual favours until they give up on the war. At first, the women are unsure of whether this will actually work, but, as Lysistrata and the others seize the Acropolis, the seat of power in Athens, they come to realize that they hold much more power than what they originally thought. Through a battle of wills, the women of Sparta and Athens prove themselves capable of ruling the city and, if men aren't happy about it, they can just leave.

Review
If you've never read Aristophanes, get ready. As the father of Greek comedy, he is, of course, very witty and funny, but his brand of comedy is bawdy and crude throughout the play. However, even though it seems as though this story isn't very deep because of its language, the bawdiness hides a very important political and social critique: women are capable politicians and strategists, and society has done them wrong by assuming that they cannot accomplish what men do.

Written over 2000 years ago, this play presents ideas and themes that are still very much relevant today. Why can't women be allowed to be in positions of power? Why should war be a man's undertaking? How can countries listen to and respect all of their citizens' voices? These, and more, are things that are developed in this play, but they are camouflaged by comedy.

Aristophanes weaves these ideas throughout the play, and his main character, Lysistrata, is a true politician and war general in how she rallies her troops, takes command of the city, and ultimately gets the men to bow down and give up on the war. She is, of course, a pacifist who does not believe in bloodshed for the sake of gaining territory or power. She is also an idealist who wishes for her city to be more embracing of the different people who make up its numbers. Lysistrata is a hero for her people; she wields a weapon–that of men's sexual desires–to obtain what she wants, which is peace.

By comparison, the other characters in the play pale significantly. The other women are not as brave and clever as Lysistrata; they nearly abandon her plan entirely because they, too, need to have their sexual needs fulfilled. However, Lysistrata rallies them all under the promise that if they stick together, they have a chance at having a better future.

By the end of the play, we have a happy resolution for Sparta and Athens, and men and women alike. The chorus, which had previously been split into a men's chorus and a women's chorus, is united as a single entity of Athenian citizens, showing that the city is also united, unlike before. The soldiers on both sides of the war come to a peaceful arrangement, and the men are permitted to return to their wives and their homes.

Ultimately, Lysistrata proves herself to be a true heroine, a mortal Pallas ruling from beneath the great goddess' shadow at the Acropolis.