dappled shade

Purple Cow

One of the problems with a scientific education is that it makes books like Purple Cow intensely annoying.

Purple Cow is a non-fiction book which argues that to succeed in the current market, companies need to turn out extraordinary products. These extraordinary products will be adopted by small groups of enthusiasts who will then convince their friends to try them. The popularity of the products will spread, leading to large profits. In other words, the products market themselves

Seth Godin, who wrote Purple Cow, may be entirely right in his conclusions. It would certainly be a very interesting approach to take with a product, and one that sounds like a lot of fun.

What I object to, though, is the lack of proof combined with an authoritative tone. He does not say: "I have observed these events and so I believe this is the new trend." He says: "This is the trend."

The scientific training kicks in and my thought process runs like this: If he has proof that he is correct he should share that proof to back up his arguments. If he is making some well-informed guesses, he should not state his guesses as fact.

My automatic response to a blanket statement with no proof given is annoyed skepticism, and I ended up reading the whole book in a state of total irritation.

What did amuse me more than a little, though, was the accolades on the back of the book. Of the seven comments, five of them were written by fellow authors. I could just imagine their agreement to set up a mutual admiration society in which they published positive comments about each other — after all, it would be good marketing.

I'm sure this post has given the impression that I despise Purple Cow. That's not the case at all. It's an easy two-day read and the approach Godin suggests is incredibly interesting and, perhaps, very effective. If it is one of a library of marketing books, it's worth reading (especially if you can borrow it from a friend).

Wife to Mr Milton

Wife to Mr Milton is not a great book. Robert Graves apparently wrote the book to express his disgust with and disdain of John Milton - and to try to convince his readers to hold the same opinion.

Publishers also seem to think it's not a great book. I can guarantee that you will have a hard time finding a copy of Wife to Mr Milton (I stumbled across my 50-year-old copy by mistake in a Berkeley secondhand bookstore).

I am, though, on my third reading of this book. The reason I'm reading it yet again is because it has one of the most realistic and convincing heroines I have ever come across. Robert Graves has the rare talent of being able to write a character of the opposite sex convincingly (if you don't believe this is a rare talent, read a Victor Hugo or Jane Austen novel).

This book is a fictional reconstruction of Marie Powell's marriage to John Milton. Marie is wise, independent, passionate, petty and foolish by turns - but ultimately likable, and you can't help but feel sorry for her being encumbered by John Milton. It's written as an autobiography, based on a journal she kept from a year before her marriage until near her death while still a young woman.

One well-done scene is toward the beginning when, before her marriage, Marie falls sick and faints in the kitchen. Most of the household runs away because they are afraid that she has the plague. Her father hesitates in the doorway, torn between helping his daughter and protecting the rest of his family. If he catches the plague and dies then the rest of the family will end up in poverty. In the end, a servant helps Marie. Robert Graves neatly illustrates the conflict between compassion for the individual and the need to protect the family - and lays the groundwork for Marie being given away in marriage.

As with all of Robert Graves' books, there is a lot going on underneath the surface, which I must admit I only partially understand. Robert Graves' books usually have these undercurrents that fundamentally challenge traditional assumptions and the patriarchal society they're attached to.

If you want to read a great novel by Robert Graves, read I, Claudius. If you want to read a book which isn't great but that presents a completely convincing heroine and vividly portrays England before and during the Civil War, Wife to Mr Milton is a good choice.

The Last Unicorn

In The Last Unicorn, Peter S Beagle wanders in and out of reality. He spends most of his time out, but steps back in occasionally to remind the reader that he's not quite taking it seriously.

One of my favorite scenes in the book is when Schmendrick the Magician informs the Unicorn that it could have been worse, he could have turned her into a rhinoceros, "which is where the whole silly myth got started." I think Beagle was checking to make sure that his readers were still paying attention.

This book teaches no great moral lessons - even the villain seems more pitiful than evil. Ideas and themes run through it, but more because a book must contain ideas than because they're really necessary to the story. One of the few ideas Beagle does seem really taken with is that only mortal things can be truly beautiful - and even that he never gets around to quite explaining.

This book reads like a book written by a young man - it kicks up its heels and is full of wandering fancies and fanciful connections. While the ending is bittersweet, the book is full of joy and optimism.

The first time I heard of The Last Unicorn it was read to me. I've re-read it several times since then and, as with all books, it has changed as I've grown older. It is still a book I retreat to, though, when I want a story full of drifting, fanciful characters and scenes that linger in my mind.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

I have to admit it - what finally induced me to buy Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell was its length.

People who had not read it kept telling me how good a book it was. People who had started to read it said that it was obviously a good book, but they just didn't like it that much as it was very dry, very slow, very detailed and very long - and then they'd look at me and say that I would probably like it.

But as I said, what finally tipped me over was its length. I was traveling in Britain at the time with long train journeys ahead of me and no book to read. With a healthy appreciation of how much my luggage already weighed, I decided I wanted one large book instead of many small ones.

I've not regretted it. This book is not for the easily intimidated reader, but it is very clever and full of dry humor (my husband sat across from me on the train journeys and he said that I chuckled constantly while reading the book).

The book is set in a fictitious England during the time of the Napoleonic Wars. The premise is: What if magic had once been real in England - how could it be brought back? Mr Norrell and Jonathan Strange are the magicians who re-introduce magic to England. (Mr Norrell largely through knowledge derived from books and Jonathan Strange through natural talent and audacity.)

Susanna Clarke has a great deal of fun mocking academics and their petty squabbles. From this mocking her two heroes are not entirely spared (especially Mr Norrell). The book is very appropriately named as the base story is the friendship and squabbles (ranging from minor disagreements to downright character assassination) between these two men.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is one of those beautiful books that there's more to notice every time it's read. The first time I read it, the subplot that got my attention was between Jonathan Strange and his wife Arabella. The second time, I noticed the descriptions of magic, and specifically magic as being part of England (I suspect that this will remain one of my favorite parts of the book). And, of course, the thread about Stephen Black is impossible to forget, no matter what reading of the book I'm on.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is very long with very dry humor, and is not a book for everyone (but then, what book is?). It is clever and absorbing, though, with commentaries on the past and present.