Dream; book reviews
Sep. 23rd, 2003 12:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetI forgot to mention that I dreamed the other night that, after going to this coming Friday's Dresden Dolls show, which in the dream required a precipitous ascent by ladder, my companions and I went to a party at the Allston apartment shared by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tiamatlady and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. The Rock was very good-natured about sparring with people in a teenage-boy slow-motion-ninja-fight sort of way, and even letting them win. But then I went to get something from the oven while my friend Spex was doing likewise, and I accidentally caused him to burn his hand.
But now, in the spirit of McSweeney's, I offer:
LINES FROM BOOK REVIEWS I EDITED YESTERDAY
Perhaps there [the author] will favor his readers with some sort of historic [sic] method.
The trouble with Amazons, according to Schwarz, is not that they dwell at the end of the world, figuring the reversal and antithesis of normative masculine authority; it is that in seeking them at the edges of the map, one discovers them instead at home.
The answer is clear. Stravinsky is no longer a contemporary.
Is there an implied reproach in the words 'green-dropping sap' as Mortimer seems to claim (i.e., the sap is 'like wasted semen' and recalls Venus's earlier taunt about his wasteful narcissism)?
The pages are free of maps and illustrations.
Had Armitage devoted more space to the conflicted and shifting languages of Anglo-American identity politics after 1763 and less to Hegel's lofty meditation in 1822-23 on English Selbstgefühl, he would have consummated a bold essay on the causal impact of ideology on early-modern transatlantic history.
This is the transumption that dares not speak its name.
Unfortunately, this deeply personal view [that parallels between the lives of two sickly 19th-century artists might be evidence of reincarnation - ed.] is allowed too great a degree of freedom at the expense of Bell's art-historical expertise, and it ultimately capsizes the book.
Too often, "New Art History" bricolage resembles forays into belles lettres and presents a Francophile neo-Cartesian self-affirmation that seems to imply, "I think it, therefore it is so."
The author concludes his fine study with the singularly dissatisfying line: "It [philosophy] is, in a way, all of these -- and yet none of them."
It seems clear that people would commission poets of this period, including distinguished poets like Posidippus and Asclepiades, to write poems such as epitaphs or poems to commemorate a present or a recovery from illness, or other events significant in their lives, just as towards the end of the nineteenth century the citizens of Grand Rapids, Michigan might commission vers d'occasion from the Sweet Singer of Michigan, Julia Moore, and it would not be surprising if such poems done to order, even if their authors were poets of high quality, did not show the same excellence as their other works.
It is good to notice in this book that the art of Roman Egypt is, for once, not dismissed as a late and degenerate form of pharaonic art.
Among the pieces of information required by the Reichsführer-SS was a work on ancient bathing customs, specifically as performed by the Homeric Greeks and the German tribes, the prehistoric relationship between the Norwegians and the ancient Greeks, and the identification of SS members (and their wives) with "Greek noses."
tiamatlady and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. The Rock was very good-natured about sparring with people in a teenage-boy slow-motion-ninja-fight sort of way, and even letting them win. But then I went to get something from the oven while my friend Spex was doing likewise, and I accidentally caused him to burn his hand.But now, in the spirit of McSweeney's, I offer:
LINES FROM BOOK REVIEWS I EDITED YESTERDAY
Perhaps there [the author] will favor his readers with some sort of historic [sic] method.
The trouble with Amazons, according to Schwarz, is not that they dwell at the end of the world, figuring the reversal and antithesis of normative masculine authority; it is that in seeking them at the edges of the map, one discovers them instead at home.
The answer is clear. Stravinsky is no longer a contemporary.
Is there an implied reproach in the words 'green-dropping sap' as Mortimer seems to claim (i.e., the sap is 'like wasted semen' and recalls Venus's earlier taunt about his wasteful narcissism)?
The pages are free of maps and illustrations.
Had Armitage devoted more space to the conflicted and shifting languages of Anglo-American identity politics after 1763 and less to Hegel's lofty meditation in 1822-23 on English Selbstgefühl, he would have consummated a bold essay on the causal impact of ideology on early-modern transatlantic history.
This is the transumption that dares not speak its name.
Unfortunately, this deeply personal view [that parallels between the lives of two sickly 19th-century artists might be evidence of reincarnation - ed.] is allowed too great a degree of freedom at the expense of Bell's art-historical expertise, and it ultimately capsizes the book.
Too often, "New Art History" bricolage resembles forays into belles lettres and presents a Francophile neo-Cartesian self-affirmation that seems to imply, "I think it, therefore it is so."
The author concludes his fine study with the singularly dissatisfying line: "It [philosophy] is, in a way, all of these -- and yet none of them."
It seems clear that people would commission poets of this period, including distinguished poets like Posidippus and Asclepiades, to write poems such as epitaphs or poems to commemorate a present or a recovery from illness, or other events significant in their lives, just as towards the end of the nineteenth century the citizens of Grand Rapids, Michigan might commission vers d'occasion from the Sweet Singer of Michigan, Julia Moore, and it would not be surprising if such poems done to order, even if their authors were poets of high quality, did not show the same excellence as their other works.
It is good to notice in this book that the art of Roman Egypt is, for once, not dismissed as a late and degenerate form of pharaonic art.
Among the pieces of information required by the Reichsführer-SS was a work on ancient bathing customs, specifically as performed by the Homeric Greeks and the German tribes, the prehistoric relationship between the Norwegians and the ancient Greeks, and the identification of SS members (and their wives) with "Greek noses."
