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What I Finished Reading This Week
Astrology – Andrea Richards
Astrology is the second volume in Taschen’s Library of Esoterica series. I’m pleased to say it’s as beautiful as Tarot, and much better edited, and displeased to say that it’s still pretty poorly edited.
First, the good. Obviously, it is visually stunning: 500-odd pages of astrological and astronomical artwork spanning 20,000 years. The book focuses on Western astrology but even these constraints still allow for illustrations from cave paintings, Egyptian tomb reliefs, Persian manuscripts, German woodcuts, Italian frescoes, Parisian couture, oracle decks, and modern kitsch (think collectible zodiac trading cards included in cigarette boxes). In other words, its a fascinating selection of genres, media, styles, color schemes, and time periods.
Some of the featured art was familiar to me: the Dendera zodiac, Edmund Dulac, David Palladini, and the Voynich manuscript, to name a few. Others were completely new, and of them Maria Grazia Chiuri, Daria Hlazatova and Caroline Smith became immediate favorites, and Manzel Bowman’s Lux is forevermore my headcanon Discworld Death.
The text is quite good too. The book opens with a history of Western astrology, followed by chapters on the nine planets and 12 zodiac signs, and concludes with an introduction to houses and aspects. These sections are generally well written and the captions make more of an effort to comment on aspects of the illustrations than do the boilerplate captions in Tarot.
The bad: again, while this book is better edited than Tarot, it’s still not edited well. Commas are mercilessly abused. Words are omitted, misspelled, or misused (think mistaking “catheter/carafe” or “wanton/wonton”). Some sentences are nonsensical or factually inaccurate. It’s not a good look for a relatively expensive book that presents itself as a more elevated alternative than Llewellyn’s Astrology for Tweens or whatever.
TL;DR: I'm glad I own it, I'm going to flip through it a lot, and I wish someone had proofread it.
Milk, Sulfate, and Alby Starvation – Martin Millar
Martin Millar is one of the greats. Milk, Sulfate, and Abby Starvation is his first novel. Published in 1987, it takes place in a world without cellphones, laptops, the Internet, or social media and I did not even notice. The story could have unfolded in 1987 or yesterday. That’s how well it holds up, and how good Millar is.
It’s cool to see how many of the classic Millar elements were there from the first: a Shakespearean cast of Quixotic, somewhat amoral characters bouncing off each other as they pursue their own misguided ends, comedic set pieces, scathing social commentary disguised by deceptively simple prose, Millar’s enduring affection for his characters and humanity at large. The only indication this is a first novel is the conclusion, in which Millar didn’t quite know how to wrap things up (and therefore didn’t try). But even still, this is such a good, good book.
Talking to High Monks in the Snow – Lydia Minatoya
Published in 1992, Minatoya’s excellent, spare memoir predates the widespread adoption of terms like microaggression, intersectionality, or gender or racial privilege, but it is very much about them. Minatoya traces her family history from late-Meiji era Japan, the WWII internment of Japanese Americans, and her childhood and experiences teaching in 1980s Okinawa and Guangzhou.
Minatoya casts a gimlet eye at racism, class and gender privilege, and all the ways that preconceptions, stereotypes, and cultural expectations harm and hinder society at large, but she does it by letting her experiences stand on their own, with little to no overt finger pointing. This makes her observations all the more damning, and it makes for powerful reading.
I also find the book personally fascinating because—from Boston to Wakayama, Okinawa, Beijing—I’ve lived, worked, and traveled pretty much everywhere Minatoya has, only some decades behind her. It’s fascinating to see, for instance, how much the very straitjacketed Japan I know had actually liberalized by the time I started kicking around there.
I suspect Minatoya’s reserved style might alienate or at least bemuse some contemporary readers, which is a shame, because Talking to High Monks in the Snow is both very well-written and very relevant to present day discussions, and it should be better known than it is.
What I Am Currently Reading
The Familiar vol. 1 – Mark Danielewski
If I can knock out a hundred pages a day I’ll finish this early next week, but Danielewski is generally slow going and if I’m being realistic it’ll probably take me twice that long.
Mythos – Stephen Fry
Well written and entertaining. I’m very much looking forward to picking up Troy as well.
The Tarot – Cynthia Giles
I first read this book almost three decades ago to the month. It became an immediate favorite and has remained so to this day.
A Thousand Ships – Natalie Hayes
Somewhat uneven, but a good retelling of the Iliad all the same.
Experience the Mystery of Tarot – Katalin Jett Koda
There is some good information in this book, but boy does the lack of proofreading make it a chore to tease it out.
The Silver Bough vol. 2 – F. Marian McNeill
This week I read about a third(?) of the content on Beltaine, which seems to be the main focus of the book.
What I'm Reading Next
This week I picked up Danielewski’s The Familiar, Brian Jacques' The Bellmaker and Michael Tierra and Candice Cantin's The Spirit of Herbs.
これで以上です。
Astrology – Andrea Richards
Astrology is the second volume in Taschen’s Library of Esoterica series. I’m pleased to say it’s as beautiful as Tarot, and much better edited, and displeased to say that it’s still pretty poorly edited.
First, the good. Obviously, it is visually stunning: 500-odd pages of astrological and astronomical artwork spanning 20,000 years. The book focuses on Western astrology but even these constraints still allow for illustrations from cave paintings, Egyptian tomb reliefs, Persian manuscripts, German woodcuts, Italian frescoes, Parisian couture, oracle decks, and modern kitsch (think collectible zodiac trading cards included in cigarette boxes). In other words, its a fascinating selection of genres, media, styles, color schemes, and time periods.
Some of the featured art was familiar to me: the Dendera zodiac, Edmund Dulac, David Palladini, and the Voynich manuscript, to name a few. Others were completely new, and of them Maria Grazia Chiuri, Daria Hlazatova and Caroline Smith became immediate favorites, and Manzel Bowman’s Lux is forevermore my headcanon Discworld Death.
The text is quite good too. The book opens with a history of Western astrology, followed by chapters on the nine planets and 12 zodiac signs, and concludes with an introduction to houses and aspects. These sections are generally well written and the captions make more of an effort to comment on aspects of the illustrations than do the boilerplate captions in Tarot.
The bad: again, while this book is better edited than Tarot, it’s still not edited well. Commas are mercilessly abused. Words are omitted, misspelled, or misused (think mistaking “catheter/carafe” or “wanton/wonton”). Some sentences are nonsensical or factually inaccurate. It’s not a good look for a relatively expensive book that presents itself as a more elevated alternative than Llewellyn’s Astrology for Tweens or whatever.
TL;DR: I'm glad I own it, I'm going to flip through it a lot, and I wish someone had proofread it.
Milk, Sulfate, and Alby Starvation – Martin Millar
Martin Millar is one of the greats. Milk, Sulfate, and Abby Starvation is his first novel. Published in 1987, it takes place in a world without cellphones, laptops, the Internet, or social media and I did not even notice. The story could have unfolded in 1987 or yesterday. That’s how well it holds up, and how good Millar is.
It’s cool to see how many of the classic Millar elements were there from the first: a Shakespearean cast of Quixotic, somewhat amoral characters bouncing off each other as they pursue their own misguided ends, comedic set pieces, scathing social commentary disguised by deceptively simple prose, Millar’s enduring affection for his characters and humanity at large. The only indication this is a first novel is the conclusion, in which Millar didn’t quite know how to wrap things up (and therefore didn’t try). But even still, this is such a good, good book.
Talking to High Monks in the Snow – Lydia Minatoya
Published in 1992, Minatoya’s excellent, spare memoir predates the widespread adoption of terms like microaggression, intersectionality, or gender or racial privilege, but it is very much about them. Minatoya traces her family history from late-Meiji era Japan, the WWII internment of Japanese Americans, and her childhood and experiences teaching in 1980s Okinawa and Guangzhou.
Minatoya casts a gimlet eye at racism, class and gender privilege, and all the ways that preconceptions, stereotypes, and cultural expectations harm and hinder society at large, but she does it by letting her experiences stand on their own, with little to no overt finger pointing. This makes her observations all the more damning, and it makes for powerful reading.
I also find the book personally fascinating because—from Boston to Wakayama, Okinawa, Beijing—I’ve lived, worked, and traveled pretty much everywhere Minatoya has, only some decades behind her. It’s fascinating to see, for instance, how much the very straitjacketed Japan I know had actually liberalized by the time I started kicking around there.
I suspect Minatoya’s reserved style might alienate or at least bemuse some contemporary readers, which is a shame, because Talking to High Monks in the Snow is both very well-written and very relevant to present day discussions, and it should be better known than it is.
What I Am Currently Reading
The Familiar vol. 1 – Mark Danielewski
If I can knock out a hundred pages a day I’ll finish this early next week, but Danielewski is generally slow going and if I’m being realistic it’ll probably take me twice that long.
Mythos – Stephen Fry
Well written and entertaining. I’m very much looking forward to picking up Troy as well.
The Tarot – Cynthia Giles
I first read this book almost three decades ago to the month. It became an immediate favorite and has remained so to this day.
A Thousand Ships – Natalie Hayes
Somewhat uneven, but a good retelling of the Iliad all the same.
Experience the Mystery of Tarot – Katalin Jett Koda
There is some good information in this book, but boy does the lack of proofreading make it a chore to tease it out.
The Silver Bough vol. 2 – F. Marian McNeill
This week I read about a third(?) of the content on Beltaine, which seems to be the main focus of the book.
What I'm Reading Next
This week I picked up Danielewski’s The Familiar, Brian Jacques' The Bellmaker and Michael Tierra and Candice Cantin's The Spirit of Herbs.
これで以上です。
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Minatoya traces her family history from late-Meiji era Japan, the WWII internment of Japanese Americans, and her childhood and experiences teaching in 1980s Okinawa and Guangzhou.
This sounds fascinating, and I expect her reserved style would suit me.