It would not be fair for me to assign a star rating to Fluent Forever without having honestly attempted to learn a language with its methods—I simply don't think that its methods would be particularly helpful to me given where I am in the language acquisition process.
Wyner is an engineer and an opera performer, not a linguist; in the Notes section he does a decent job of identifying the linguistic research upon which he bases his proposals, but his method should be taken with a grain of salt, in my opinion. The method is heavily flashcard-based and incorporates a spaced repetition system to work concepts into the learner's long-term memory. To his credit, Wyner does have a lot of very clever ideas about how to use flashcards to learn correct pronunciation, establish a basic vocabulary, and explore basic grammatical concepts, all while beginning to think in the target language. There is probably a great deal of merit to this approach for a language learner who is beginning from scratch.
Outside of his very detailed instructions regarding flashcards, most of Wyner's suggestions are a bit obvious. Yes, it's good to speak and write and get corrections from native speakers. Yes, watching familiar television programs in your target language can help with listening comprehension. Apart from the spaced repetition system, most intermediate–advanced learners won't glean much fresh insight. In one of the appendices, Wyner describes three “tracks” for flashcards, the lowest-intensity track (requiring the fewest cards) being the “Refresher” track for intermediate speakers. It is telling that he admits that many of his own card suggestions will be unnecessary for those who already speak at an intermediate level. His goal is evidently to help readers reach a baseline level of fluency, not an advanced or native-like level of fluency. (The book comes off as somewhat self-promotional too, as it frequently refers the reader to Wyner's website.)
If you are learning a language about which you have no prior knowledge, give Fluent Forever a shot. If you already have a good grasp on pronunciation, basic vocabulary, and basic grammatical constructions in your target language, then skip this book, download an SRS program like Anki, and get to work expanding your vocabulary. If you're still terribly curious about what Wyner has to say, borrow a library copy and skim. He does leave some specific suggestions for intermediate–advanced learners at the ends of some chapters, but those suggestions are not worth the price of the book.
Fluent Forever's greatest advantage is that it offers specific, actionable steps that language learners can take. If anyone is interested in a text that holds more scientific weight but lets the reader to decide how to apply the science to their learning, I would strongly recommend [b:Becoming Fluent: How Cognitive Science Can Help Adults Learn a Foreign Language|26176934|Becoming Fluent How Cognitive Science Can Help Adults Learn a Foreign Language|Roger J. Kreuz|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1440704673l/26176934.SX50.jpg|46142142].
An interesting and well-researched overview of the acoustical principles behind tuning and the various tuning systems that have existed in the Western musical culture prior to the current hegemony of 12TET. The title is, in my estimation, printed clickbait; the work doesn't make a solid case that equal temperament “ruined” harmony, but instead leaves the reader with the conclusion that 12TET is just one potentially valid option out of many, depending on context.
If you're a fretted string player or a pianist who has never had to grapple with the issues of 12TET before, portions of this book will be revelatory. Duffin pays a lot of attention to the minutiae of historical tuning systems, and these details may not have practical relevance or application outside of historical practice performance environments. There are also some issues with presentation; Duffin regularly interrupts the flow of text with biographies, some of them taking up a full two-page spread, and many of which contain information already present in the main text.
Estoy de acuerdo con las críticas diciendo que El alquimista es un libro de autoayuda con disfraz de novela. Paulo Coelho hasta escribe en mayúsculas los nombres de los conceptos importantes en la vida de los personajes. No creo en los conceptos como el “Alma del Mundo” que constituyen la filosofía del libro, pero me gustó la presentación de esas ideas en forma de una parábola. Hay una mezcla interesante de referencias religiosas también.
Los dos problemas principales del texto son la filosofía ya mencionada y el sexismo. Coelho propone siempre “escuchar al corazón” y “seguir los sueños”, lo cual me parece un mensaje superficial que el lector podría haber encontrado en cualquier libro de autoayuda. Al fin, el tesoro que Santiago ha estado buscando todo el cuento es... dinero, así que el libro se presta fácilmente al materialismo. Coelho le dice al lector que todas las cosas del universo tienen su propia Historia Personal, incluso los objetos inanimados, pero sólo se presentan ejemplos de los hombres siguiendo sus destinos. La mujer más importante en el argumento, Fátima, es el amor de Santiago y nada más. Es más, está contenta sólo con esperar el regreso de Santiago, porque es una “mujer del desierto”. El lector nunca aprende cuál es la Historia Personal de Fátima, sólo que su tesoro es Santiago, un hombre.
No obstante, aunque yo no sea una persona espiritual, me gusta que este libro me haya enseñado un poco sobre cómo ven el mundo las personas espirituales. Por ejemplo, me es interesante cómo Coelho mezcla dos conceptos contradictorios, el destino y el libre albedrío. Coelho dice que Dios ha escrito un destino para todas las personas, pero muchas no escuchan las señales de Dios y como resultado no siguen su camino predestinado.
El Alquimista es un libro con imperfecciones fundamentales, pero tiene una presentación atractiva y me ayudó a entender un poco mejor la perspectiva espiritual.
Edición (dos años después): No sé que me pasaba a la cabeza cuando escribí esta reseña, pero basta decir que no recuerdo este libro con tanta afección como cuando originalmente lo leí. Ya sabiendo un poco más sobre la religión y la filosofía, puedo decir que el pensamiento de Coelho es fundamentalmente hueco, vacío, y falso. De hecho, opino honestamente que El alquimista es una de las peores obras de literatura que he leído.
I have such a complicated relationship to this book that I don't believe a star rating is even meaningful in my case. I read The Giver three times as a child and read the Spanish translation as an adult. I recall being in the fifth grade and devouring Lowry's novel in a single night, immediately recognizing it as my then-favorite book. I owe a lot to The Giver, especially my appreciation for books that speculate about future societies. While some aspects of the story now seem illogical (or conversely, too easily predictable), the book's emotional beats hit even harder now that I have a bit more experience with life. However, with an adult perspective, I can also retrospectively identify certain ways that the book actually harmed me as a child. Without getting into too much personal detail, if my child were to read this book, I would make sure to have a discussion about the differences between psychiatric drugs in the book and in real life. I would also make it clear that the existence of joy doesn't justify suffering, nor does it invalidate a society's attempts to alleviate that suffering. I don't think that Lowry necessarily intended to send harmful messages on either of these topics, but at the end of the day, this is a children's book, and the way it impacts children is important to consider.
A flawed but tremendously impactful work that changed me, both for better and for worse.
For a one-person project, All Tomorrows is absolutely incredible. Kosemen envisions what would happen if human beings were genetically engineered by a race of superior space aliens, then left to evolve on their own over hundreds of millions of years. His creatures and narrative are highly creative, and the quality of his illustrations is very good. Many of the post-humans presented in the book are very memorable, with my favorite being the Pterosapiens. My issues are with the book's presentation—the writing and formatting prevent complete immersion in Kosemen's imagined worlds, and the book absolutely would have benefitted from the help of a professional editor. I would be very excited to see a new edition with revised text and illustrations, but as it currently stands, All Tomorrows is better experienced through Alt Shift X's summary on YouTube, which covers all important details from the book.
A marvelous work of popular science. Gould does not merely describe the fauna of the Burgess Shale: he tells the story of how scientists have reinterpreted their classification, and he argues that this revision fundamentally reframes our understanding of life on earth. Essentially, Gould's thesis is that there is no such thing as an inevitable evolutionary trend towards progression, and that our presence on this world is just as much the product of fortunate circumstances as it is of consistent evolutionary principles.
Gould writes in an engaging and beautiful way. He explains technical concepts clearly and enriches his presentation with a variety of apt literary and cultural allusions. The evidence presented for his thesis is thorough. Paleontology advancing as fast as it does, I have to assume that a good deal of the information is outdated; Gould explicitly anticipates and even welcomes this inevitability. (While I love learning about paleontology, I'm certainly not qualified to comment on particular inaccuracies.)
I am particularly impressed by the amount of understanding that Walcott extends towards Charles Doolittle Walcott, the geologist who first discovered the Burgess Shale fossils. Just as a teacher must look for the logic in a student's mistake, Gould examines Walcott's biography in great detail to establish why he interpreted the Burgess fossils the way he did. Gould's comments about the dichotomy between experimental and historical sciences resonated with me, as I immensely enjoy learning about historical sciences but was confused in school when that love didn't necessarily transfer to the experimental side. Gould's book is subtitled “The Nature of History,” but in many ways it's just as much about the historical qualities of nature.
Prior to Wonderful Life, I had not read a proper book focused on paleontology in over a year. While I was obsessed with the subject as a child, the last book I read about it disappointed me. Gould demonstrated to me that paleontology is just as captivating a subject as an adult when presented in the right way. I look forward to continue learning about ancient life, even if my childhood aspirations towards professional paleontology never worked out.
There's a certain tension in the presentation of Fierce Love; I get the impression that Rev. Dr. Lewis wanted to write a memoir of certain spiritually significant events in her life, but the publisher requested certain changes in organization and presentation so that the book could be marketed as “self-help,” which it really isn't. Certain passages of the book, about formative moments in Lewis' journey and how they influenced her mature theology, were immensely pleasurable. The “self-help” elements (the specific organization of chapters, the important pieces of text repeated verbatim in a different font, and the redundancy of certain concepts throughout) seem a bit out of place but are fortunately not too distracting. I recommend this book for those interested in Lewis' life and work.
A beautiful and sometimes tragic story that addresses several dark and complex issues through the eyes of an adolescent. At only 110 pages, it absolutely deserves to be read by anybody who is interested.
I suppose that The Layperson's Introduction to Selectorate Theory didn't make for as snappy of a title.Bueno de Mesquita and Smith present a compelling if not cynical theory that seeks to logically explain the behavior of political leaders. (The approach of finding the logic in the seemingly illogical reminds me of the unrelated book [b:The Mind Behind the Musical Ear: How Children Develop Musical Intelligence 5581354 The Mind Behind the Musical Ear How Children Develop Musical Intelligence Jeanne Bamberger https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1267749057l/5581354.SY75.jpg 2321178].) Brushing against conventional wisdom, the authors see democratic leaders as no more virtuous than petty dictators; in fact, they argue that the motivations of all leaders are the same. The theory's fundamental idea, that leaders prioritize their own hold on power above all other considerations, seems obvious enough, but Bueno de Mesquita and Smith explain the sometimes counterintuitive consequences of this central principle with plenty of well-chosen historical examples. The final chapter offers suggestions for how to create a more prosperous, democratic world, given that politicians are only going to act in their own self-interest.There is plenty of praiseworthy content in The Dictator's Handbook. The theoretical framework it presents is useful for analyzing the behaviors of leaders not only in government but also the private sector and even organized crime. The chapter on foreign aid was particularly well-argued and essentially flipped my position on the issue. Some of the policy proposals in the book are bold and excellent, such as the identification of the American electoral college as a vestige of slavery and the proposal for its elimination. The authors also recognize gerrymandering as an important obstacle to consider. On page 159 Bueno de Mesquita and Smith even come close to proposing democratization of the workplace.I will say, as an American, that the book somewhat misapplies its own theory when it discusses the United States. On page 125 the authors describe access to higher education and healthcare as benefits of living in a large-coalition regime, but no comment is made on how “access” to these services still excludes many people. Many examples on the book are simplified for the sake of argument, but the description of lowercase-D democrats as beholden to the people's will doesn't always bear out in reality. I wish the authors had done more analysis of the ways that propaganda and campaign finance influence the size of a winning coalition. Bueno de Mesquita and Smith seem a bit too enamored of neoliberal economic policy for my liking, which is unsurprising considering that Bueno de Mesquita transparently advertises his work at the Hoover Institution.I agree with some other reviewers that the book could have benefited from more editing. Some historical examples reappear incessantly—I'll now never forget the story of Liberia's Sergeant Doe, but one does get the feeling that the book could have been trimmed down further. Some of the writing could be cleaned up as well (different terms used to refer to identical concepts get confusing), and more graphs would have been useful to clarify the authors' excellent thought experiments.If you have an interest in government or international relations, The Dictator's Handbook is absolutely worth a read for its central ideas, even though the manner in which they are applied may not always be ideal.
While I have not read widely enough within paleontology to make any definitive claims, Otherlands seems to me like a powerful candidate for the definitive history-of-life book for adult paleontology enthusiasts. Paleontologist Thomas Halliday writes with both the authority of an expert and the lyricism of a novelist. The text consists of sixteen chapters, and in each Halliday uses his aptitude for language to revive the organisms of a particular fossil site. Halliday proceeds in reverse chronological order, beginning with Pleistocene Alaska and concluding with the Ediacaran biota.
Halliday makes a point of highlighting lesser-appreciated organisms and geological periods. Of the sixteen main chapters, only three are dedicated to the respective periods of the Mesozoic Era, and even within those sections, dinosaurs are not always the primary focus. The rest of the book concerns Cenozoic, Paleozoic, and pre-Cambrian life, which was a marvelous choice. I love dinosaurs as much as the next person, but they have been written about to death, and it's about time for other incredible extinct taxa to receive their due. Especially during the Paleozoic chapters, plants, fungi, and microorganisms all play a critical role in the author's narrative. Global geography also receives significant attention.
The quality of Halliday's prose is very reminiscent of a nature documentary; he often describes a plausible behavior being performed by a specific individual of a given taxon. It is easy to imagine the text of Otherlands being read aloud by Kenneth Branagh or David Attenborough. Nevertheless, technical terms abound—this is not a book that underestimates the reader's intelligence or forces humor at inappropriate times. Halliday's technical precision clearly comes from a place of love and respect for paleontology rather than haughtiness, and his admiration for his field of work oozes from each sentence. Given the amount of scientific language that this kind of book necessitates, he occasionally steps away from the documentary style to explain a technical concept in an approachable way. However, these digressions never feel out of place.
More than just a celebration of paleontology (and a superb one at that), Otherlands also functions as a rousing call to action against anthropogenic climate change. Halliday's epilogue contextualizes the mass extinction we are currently causing by comparing it to those extinctions about which we have already read earlier in the book. Halliday is neither excessively optimistic nor alarmist; nevertheless, his detailed descriptions of ripple effects in our oceans, soil, and atmospheric systems are truly unsettling to read. He is also absolutely correct to point out that the countries that have contributed the least to climate change are liable to suffer from it the most, and vice versa.
The history of life on Earth is a topic of boundless depth and beauty, and for Halliday to have captured both the grandeur and peculiarity of paleontology (in his debut, no less) is a massive achievement on his part. It is my fervent wish that he continue to write science books for a general audience. This man has a gift, and each of his readers receives it.
(I agree with other reviewers that more illustrations would have been appreciated. I found myself frequently consulting Google Images. Perhaps in a later edition this issue will be rectified.)
Excellent takedown of the American fast food industry and its cultural and economic effects around the globe. Schlosser's text is rigorously researched and examines the fast food industry from several angles; he essentially takes for granted that the reader is aware of the health effects of fast food consumption and dedicates more time to explaining other elements of the fast food restaurant's impact in the U.S.A. and in the world.
As the book progresses, Schlosser tackles not just the restaurants themselves but also their suppliers. While the observation is entirely unoriginal, I must concur that Schlosser's muckraking is highly reminiscent of Upton Sinclair. Chapter 8, “The Most Dangerous Job,” describes working conditions in the meatpacking factories that sell to fast food chains. While Fast Food Nation does not have an explicit ideological bent, this chapter serves as one of the most stirring condemnations of American capitalism that I have ever read. The conditions suffered by the laborers whom Schlosser interviews are unfathomably, indescribably horrific, and that he manages to express it so effectively is astounding.
If you are looking for motivation to make more conscious choices about your diet, Fast Food Nation will certainly provide it, but not necessarily for the reasons you might expect. Prepare to confront a reality that is more emotionally challenging than most would imagine.
One of the most interesting satires I've ever read. Vermes' use of first-person narration is unsettling in the right way—Hitler vacillates between humorous, fish-out-of-water misunderstandings, a few uncomfortable truths about global capitalism (with the cause, of course, grossly misattributed), and reprehensible fascist sentiment that shocks the reader into discomfort over how comfortable they've grown with him. Vermes wrote Look Who's Back in 2011 for a German audience; while similarities to a certain American President are coincidental, suffice it to say that the book has aged beautifully. Vermes demonstrates that you, yes, you, are receptive to evil if you are propagandized in the correct way. Much of the novel's humor comes from how much the world has changed since Hitler's time, but its tragedy comes from just how similar the world still is.
Obama on the Couch presents a nuanced and even-handed portrait of former President Obama, turning to his writings, speeches, and persona to determine the origins of both his facilities and his deficiencies as a world leader. I did not read Dr. Frank's other books about Presidents Bush and Trump before reading this one. While I found Obama on the Couch insightful in some ways, after reading it, I don't want to read the others. Unfortunately, Dr. Frank's inquiry finds its basis in outmoded Freudian concepts whose veracity I question. Besides, I don't need a book to tell me that Trump was and is seriously ill. After reading this work, I do feel that I understand much better why Obama was such a disappointing figure for me. However, many of the book's biggest revelations appear speculative, especially with the author's limitation of being unable to speak to the subject of his study (Dr. Frank is open about this limitation). Perhaps it's worth a read, but only because a more evidence-based psychological profile of Obama, written by one of his own therapists, will almost certainly never become available.
A very fascinating work combining research in musicology, music history, anthropology, and philosophy to provide an overview of the interactions between humans and music. The book is divided into three sections that respectively cover the development of music within one lifetime, the development of music within recorded human history, and the development of music within evolutionary history. Spitzer convincingly argues that musical development follows fractal-esque repetitions within repetitions. The human history section in particular is excellent and offers more insight into the global history of music than some complete books written on the subject.
Spitzer is unquestionably knowledgeable and well-intentioned, but some of the book's claims are a bit off. There's an eyebrow-raising claim towards the beginning of the book that, while everyone reads new novels, concerts are struggling to find audiences. I don't think either statement is true, and the latter assertion belies a narrow, Eurocentric view of music that seems to contradict the rest of the book. I understand what Spitzer is getting at, but it's disconcerting when he asserts that, in a great historical irony, Western music is now “colonized” by African and Asian influences. (A simple change of phrasing would have made all the difference.)
As to be expected in a music book written by a musician, the science isn't 100% accurate, either. The genus Paranthropus is erroneously referred to as Homo paranthropus, for instance. To be clear, I'm also a musician by training, so there may be other errors that slipped past my radar.
An excellent work for the reader who is interested in how music has developed on a global scale, or how the philosophy and functions of music have changed over time. Despite some idiosyncrasies in the text, Spitzer absolutely accomplishes what he set out to do.
A surprisingly gripping account of Tur's real-life experiences covering Donald Trump's 2016 presidential campaign for MSNBC. This isn't really a book about Donald Trump, or even about Tur's relationship with Trump, though their interactions certainly comprise some of the memoir's most entertaining moments. Unbelievable is principally concerned with the life of a journalist on the campaign trail, and as such it's filled with internal monologuing and personal details. (The campaign in question just so happens to be one of the most unpredictable and impactful in American history.) Once I learned to appreciate the book for what it was, I found myself quite entertained—and there are a few nuggets of insight into the mindset of Trump and his supporters thrown in for good measure. If the day-to-day experience of journalism at all interests you, pick this one up; you won't be disappointed.
Interesting look into the interpersonal dynamics of the Democrats' primary campaigns, but hindered by issues with the writing. I gradually grew accustomed to Dovere's style, but having just read some much more coherently constructed non-fiction books, Battle for the Soul's style was a bit jarring. Even by the end of the book I found that some sentences were difficult to parse. Dovere's book isn't so much a work of political analysis as it is a play-by-play of who said what, when. If you want to know which Democrats told which other Democrats to go eff themselves (and I certainly do), this is your book. The focus isn't a bad thing, per se, but I would have appreciated more analysis along with the “tea.”
Dovere structures Battle in roughly chronological order, but he deviates from chronology with such great frequency that it's difficult to keep track of events at points. Dovere opens every chapter by designating the respective time period that it covers, yet some chapters begin their prose with flashbacks to events before the time period listed in bold on the very same page! It gets confusing.
The author also seems to have a strangely contemptuous view of all the candidates besides Biden—while he isn't afraid to criticize Biden, it's clear that he reserves a lower level of acrimony for the President than for any of the other candidates. One chapter opens with Andrew Yang's throwing up because he is so nervous to appear on the debate stage, and this despite the fact that Yang has no role in the rest of the chapter. Why? Am I supposed to delight in another human being's suffering just because Dovere didn't think his campaign was serious enough?
The book definitely picked up for me towards the end, as the events covered (George Floyd protests, COVID-19, concern about Trump overturning the election results) are fresher in my mind. Battle for the Soul was worth a read, but I don't think I'll be returning to more political books by this author.
As a piece of theatre, clunky at best. As a takedown of Hamilton, it more or less works. There are some genuinely insightful historical details spread throughout, but they are unfortunately presented in dialogue that comes across less like a tool for plot development and characterization and more like the playwright's rant. Reed, to his credit, is quite transparent about his purpose for writing this play, and additional historical context is certainly needed to challenge the Chernow/Miranda portrayal of Hamilton. The conceit is absurdly hilarious; I just wish it had been executed more cleverly.
A stunning collection of paintings to be sure. The annotations are insightful, though I would have appreciated even more in-depth analysis of each work.
Un clásico y un libro maravilloso aunque sea corto. García Márquez usa lenguaje corriente para mostrarle al lector la triste realidad del veterano colombiano. El estilo del autor me recuerda a Hemingway, pero aún más conmovedor. Altamente recomendado.
It may not be a world-changing work of literature, but this is the best damn book about the electric guitar that I have come across. I agree with other reviewers that more emphasis should have been given to female contributors to the art form; in their quest to streamline this immense history into a digestible narrative, Tolinski and di Perna engage in a fair bit of typical “hero worship” with the typical male “heroes.” Nevertheless, I am not aware of any other book that explains the development of this instrument, from its inception to the present day, as well as this one. I am personally not a big rock music fan, but Tolinski and di Perna manage to make those parts of the history engaging even for someone like me. If you love the electric guitar in any way, you will not be disappointed with this volume. The Charlie Christian chapter in particular was excellent. (For me, Carlos Santana's foreword did not add anything of value to the work, but neither did it detract from its quality.)
A decent look at the concept of musical temperament from a perspective that is more favorable to 12TET than some other books written on the subject. Isacoff generally does a good job explaining the conceptual foundations of differing tuning systems, though I take issue with some of the diagrams and mathematical formulas used.
The biggest issue with Temperament is that, at times, it seems resistant to actually discussing temperament. The book certainly picks up as at moves along, but I found certain chapters in the first half so frustrating that I considered returning the book to the library without finishing it. Analogies are useful for explaining abstract concepts, but in a book about temperament, I don't want to read entire chapters about what was going on among physicists, or painters, or architects. I get the sense that these passages were included to make the book more interesting to a general audience, but to be blunt, nobody save for hardcore music nerds was ever going to read a book about temperament, of all things.
The writing could have undergone some additional revision, too. Isacoff uses uncommon and frankly distracting words such as “lapidary,” yet he misuses more common words such as “comprised.” While I understand the historical necessity of naming so many figures, the number of names in the book is a bit dizzying as well.
Temperament is a fascinating subject, and I'm glad that this book exists, but a more focused text would have been better. While neither book is perfect, the flaws of Isacoff's book make me appreciate [b:How Equal Temperament Ruined Harmony|3377679|How Equal Temperament Ruined Harmony (and Why You Should Care)|Ross W. Duffin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348127190l/3377679.SX50.jpg|162549] more than I did previously. The two books complement each other decently for a reader who'd like a variety of perspectives on the subject.
Como documento histórico, este libro cautivará a cualquier aficionado de la guitarra clásica o de la música clásica latinoamericana. Toda faceta de Segovia despunta en estas cartas: su exigencia, su entendimiento profundo de la guitarra, su sentido de humor, y su lamentable antisemitismo. El libro se concluye con una carta conmovedora que Segovia le escribió a Clema, la viuda de Manuel Ponce, después del fallecimiento del compositor.
La única razón por la cual no le doy a este libro cinco estrellas es la traducción al inglés de Peter Segal, que es más que un poco torpe. Segal suele traducir muy textualmente, y por eso las traducciones de las cartas tienen una voz poco natural, y no parecen para nada que fuesen escritas por un hablante nativo del inglés. Además, un par de veces Segal malinterpreta por completo lo que quiere comunicar Segovia. Para los lectores bilingües no merece la pena leer las traducciones (yo me las salté).
Brookes does a good job of recounting the history of the guitar in America and touches upon interesting details that I, as a guitar student in college, didn't even know about. Brookes' history is interspersed with a personal narrative about the construction of his own custom-made guitar by a luthier, but this account functions mainly as a springboard for the discussion of guitar construction. The format works better than it did in [b:The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs: A New History of a Lost World 35820369 The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs A New History of a Lost World Stephen Brusatte https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1515529573l/35820369.SY75.jpg 56364062], which I also have reviewed.I'd be lying if I said that certain elements of the book didn't frustrate me. In light of the changing American social climate, certain passages have not aged well. While Brookes gives female guitarists their due, there's some annoying gender stereotyping sprinkled throughout, including at the very beginning. The connection of the guitar to African-American history and American racial politics is discussed, but Brookes sometimes reprints historical figures' virulent racism with little warning, which I found off-putting. Brookes' attempts at humor in the glossary were, to me, cringe-inducing. Typographical errors appeared throughout the text with surprising frequency.Are there better layperson's texts on the subject out there? I couldn't tell you, because I haven't done enough research. Guitar: An American Life can be an enjoyable read if examined with a critical eye. I don't regret having read it, but I am glad that I borrowed a library copy.
You really don't need a review to tell you if you're going to enjoy this book, which is a well-written socialist polemic about the way that contemporary classical music interacts with neoliberal capitalism. If that description interests you, then pick up this book. Ritchey dissects complex theoretical topics from other writers and presents them in an easily digestible way. The only real reason I didn't give it five stars: the book is rigidly ideological to the point of being occasionally tiresome. Also, there are a couple of distracting errors that shouldn't have made it past an editor (Nancy Pelosi is a member of the House of Representatives, not the Senate, for instance). Still, if you're interested in a genuine left perspective on the current state of classical music, you'd be hard-pressed to find better than this book.
No soy ni filósofo ni historiador, y seguramente no tengo ninguna perspicacia original respecto al Tao Te Ching; sólo anoto que disfruté mucho de esta traducción de Alejandro Bárcenas.