In which we do some book reports

The latest upgrade to MacOS took about a month to load this morning. I’m not used to that. Made me feel like I was running Windows again. 

Two books worth talking about, in the order I read them. Lathe of Heaven is, by my definition, a perfect example of classic SF. Le Guin takes an idea, effective dreaming (where one’s dreams come true), and comes at it from every possible direction, sinking her teeth into it and then shaking it like an overexcited dog until there isn’t anything she hasn’t considered. (Was that as poorly a done metaphor as it feels? Oh, well. You’re not paying me for this.) I’ve only recently begun reading her, and I’m glad that I have. Very satisfying stuff, if you’re in the mood for it. I was discussing classic narrative styles with a friend earlier this week. Contemporary styles tend to play fast and loose with structure. This isn’t exactly new—it’s what the modernists were doing prior to WWI—but it’s no longer avant garde. It’s sort of expected. As a matter of fact, contemporary writing of all sorts (and virtually every other art form) seems to provide fast and loose handling of something. Again, it’s sort of expected. Certainly that’s the rule in SF. Read the Hugo winners of late. You’ll see what I mean. 

The other book is The Fire Next Time. So much prescribed reading on race nowadays is impenetrable academic stuff that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, the value of its content notwithstanding. This is a problem of contemporary academics, not in any way limited to racial theory. Most inhabitants of the halls of academe have lost the ability to write clearly. They are not interested in getting their message across to anyone other than those who have the same inability to write straight. In fact, they have theories about unstraight writing to justify their inherent obfuscated approach, much in the same way “progressive” debaters have theories to justify their inherent obfuscated approaches. But getting back to the point, Baldwin published TFNT in 1962, and I think it ought to be among the first books one reads on race in America if one really wants to understand things. 99% of it could have been written yesterday. Toss in The Autobiography of Malcolm X (ghosted by Alex Haley) while you’re at it. Then Mills’s The Racial Contract if you’re of a debatish bent. Three really good writers lay it all out. I would imagine that your average white student would benefit from these more than any others as a starting point. (I wouldn’t presume to suggest a starting point for students of color, aside from it not being hifalutin academia.) Educators do need starting points, n’est-ce pas?