All Monsters Must Die: An Excursion to North Korea

All Monsters Must Die: An Excursion to North Korea by Magnus Bärtås and Fredrik Ekman (translated by Saskia Vogel) is about two Swedes' visit to the DPRK in 2008. Bärtås and Ekman spent eight days in the North and this is their brief travel diary. I recalled everything about their trip from my own time there. Since I spent eighteen days in the North I feel spoiled by the things I got to see that the authors didn't, and while I certainly shared laughs over the same experiences (and I am convinced the authors and I encountered some of the same officials and tour guides on our respective trips) I felt I could have done a better job writing a travel story. An eight-day trip was too short to get into because it's over before you know it.

Bärtås and Ekman and I shared the same experiences with disobedient fellow travellers threatening the travel plans for the entire group. In my small group of sixteen, there were four who were under the watchful eye of the guides for taking unauthorized photos. Most of us, however, had proved our obedience to the rules, and were able to photograph whatever we wanted. However, when Bärtås and Ekman's group left the DPRK:

"The agents rummage through our luggage. Our camera is inspected. The customs officers look at all the pictures on the digital cameras. Pictures that are not suitable are deleted, but it happens randomly. No one gets to keep pictures of ox-drawn carts--that might imply the country is behind in its development."

So I suppose no one got to keep a picture such as this one that I took:

The authors raved about Guy Delisle's graphic novel Pyongyang: A Journey in North Korea and I'm glad they gave a plug for his book. It is a must for anyone interested in the DPRK, and especially for anyone planning a trip there.

The authors and I visited Mount Paektu, the ancestral home of the Korean people. It is a beautiful mountain with a blue crater lake. Bärtås and Ekman must have seen it on a cloudless day. I thought the reference to Iceland was quite striking, seeing as I have just returned from there:

"Baekdu is the highest point on the entire Korean peninsula. The rusty red and orange streaks of lava on the volcanic rock remind us of Iceland's landscape. The haze between the distant, bluish ridges of Manchuria creates a depth of field like stained glass."

One highlight of All Monsters Must Die was the authors' interview with Choi Eun-hee, a South Korean actress who was kidnapped under the orders of the Dear Leader Kim Jong Il. Her former husband, film director Shin Sang-ok was also kidnapped and they were held captive for eight years, undergoing indoctrination and imprisonment, all for the sake of producing movies for the Dear Leader and the DPRK regime.

The translation was fine yet there were numerous instances where the English definite article was missing. Such is the case with Swedish definite articles: they get tagged on at the end of the noun and thus might be missed in translation. Vogel made one translating error, calling a man's wife's father his stepfather instead of his father-in-law. The authors made references to several books about North Korea that I had never heard of before, especially memoirs, so I will investigate these.

For the link to my own North Korean travel blog, which also includes reviews of the books I bought while over there, go here (travel blog and book reviews) and here (for more recent book reviews only).

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's on-line catalogue

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind

Few books cover such a vast sweep of time. Harari in his book Sapiens begins at the very beginning, the coming into being of our universe, and moves along at a brisk pace all the way to the future, that is, approximately 200 years into our future.

Harari comes from the Jared Diamond school of big history (for example, see Diamond’s book Guns, Germs and Steel). Harari doesn’t shy away from the truly large, meaningful questions that non-specialist and popular readers of history and philosophy often criticize academic professionals for ignoring, question such as does history have any overall meaning? What is so special about human beings? What is the same and what is different about us compared to other biological organisms? Are we humans becoming happier with the passage of historical time? Any one of these questions could easily fill several monster thick volumes of deep and erudite analysis. Harari addresses all of them in a mere 400 pages.

And there are heaps of topics addressed—many with refreshing novelty.  For example, most people think the agricultural revolution that turned our ancestors from hunter gatherers into farmers was a great boon for civilization. Harari argues otherwise suggesting that people became less happy when they exchanged the bow and arrow for the plow; in fact he calls this transformation history’s biggest fraud. Harari makes equally compelling observations about the forces at work unifying sapiens around the world: money, imperialism, and religion. Sociology aside, Harari hits his stride in shocking the reader with his take on how evolutionary processes shape history. He very startlingly and accurately reminds us that if you turn the clocks back 100,000 years (give or take a year) you would encounter not one but many different species of humans. That’s right, homo sapiens were just one of several humanoid creatures (the Neanderthals being another famous example—but there were others!). We eventually squeezed out our cousins and became the only remaining sapiens. The distant past is not the only place full of surprises. When Harari turns to the future things get really weird. Homo sapiens have only another 200 years left of existence. Yep, 200 short years. What is going to happen to us? Well, in a word, evolution. Science and technology are advancing so rapidly that within a few centuries we will have the power to essentially design the universe. It turns out that religious types were right about the universe being designed—only they thought it happened in the past and by the hand of God. In fact the designing of the universe is something our descendants will do in the future. Let that thought sink in. What it means is the end of evolution because we will take hold of the process rather than allow blind genetic/quantum processes to rule.

I find this book totally fascinating even though I disagree with many of the premises advanced. Let me explain.

Sapiens is a grand narrative of the universe looked at through the lens of science. When the analysis turns to our species the lens comes from the evolutionary biology tool kit. I read the book cover to cover and when I was done I reread certain sections of it, and all the while I felt something was missing. That something, I realized later, was ethics or perhaps a better way to describe it is the moral paint that colours all of our experiences. How do you write a book about sapiens (us) and mention, only in passing, a facet of life that every person who has ever lived has grappled with and confronted at every turn? No one to my knowledge has ever escaped the all-embracing nature of ethical demands. The answer, of course, is that from the standpoint of evolutionary biology morality equals brain chemistry. Homo Sapiens it turns out are not special in any way from anything else in the universe and chemistry (not to mention physics and mathematics) can prove it. So it must be asked, is morality simply a human brain quirk? Is it something we can alter at our whim? Can we—indeed should we—create a pill to become better people? Whether you answer yes or no to these questions, think about what it suggests about the objective (i.e. independent of biology and brain chemistry) nature of ethics. 

The book, which you can surmise from this brief critique, is packed with lots of thought provoking ideas. This observation extends all the way to the final few paragraphs of the book. I have read few works with a more harrowing end than the one presented there. I’ll let you judge for yourself.

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's online catalogue.

Island on Fire: The Extraordinary Story of a Forgotten Volcano That Changed the World

I process the new books in my department at the library and just days before I left for Iceland we received Island on Fire: The Extraordinary Story of a Forgotten Volcano That Changed the World by Alexandra Witze and Jeff Kanipe. The volcano in question is Laki, which erupted in Iceland in 1783. Since I was leaving on vacation in a matter of days I did not want to read it then, but started it the day after I got back. I saw Island on Fire for sale in Iceland's bookstores, and knew it would be waiting for me when I got back. Now with the closing of all Black's photography stores in a couple of weeks, I have worked like a maniac processing all of my, and Mark's, photos before the company's on-line photo processing website is shut down. All Black's stores are closing on August 8 yet their photo processing website is scheduled to close two weeks before that, on July 24. I thus had only twelve days to edit close to two thousand photos, and have done nothing but editing since I got back. No gym, no Scrabble Club, no catching up on "Coronation Street". With my photo processing preoccupying all my free time, I could only read during my lunch or dinner hours at work. Island on Fire was a fascinating book and I could have finished it in four days. Instead, it took me ten days to read it. I looked forward so much to my hour of reading each day at work. 

Laki, unlike Krakatoa, seems to be, as the authors claim, a forgotten volcano. Laki erupted exactly one hundred years before Krakatoa, and a century can make a world of difference in the development of technology and the diffusion of news via transportation and media outlets. Iceland was still a sparsely inhabited island in the late eighteenth century and the eruption's effects on the island may have gone unnoticed in the rest of the world, however, the effects on the European mainland were profound. When Laki erupted it blew a cloud of thick, dry fog all over Europe that obscured the sun and moon. The fog lingered for months, and rain could not dissipate it. The result was that in Europe in 1783, it was known as the summer without sun. While the sun shone like a dull rayless orb behind the dense haze, it still produced soaring temperatures:

"The heat blanketed northern, western and part of central Europe. A letter from Vienna, published in London's Morning Herald in September, claimed that 'we have experienced here the greatest heat ever remembered in this country'--as high as 31 degrees Celsius."

The winter that followed produced its own extreme temperatures:

"In Vienna, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who had just completed his Piano Concerto no. 14 in E-flat major, found himself distracted by the bitter cold. In a letter to his father dated 10 February 1784, he writes: 'I have just one more question to ask, and this is, whether you are now having in Salzburg such unbearably cold weather as we are having here?'"

But that is nothing when compared to the effects the eruption suffered at home. Census figures show Iceland's population in 1783 at 48.884, yet three years later this figure fell to 38.363, a loss of 22%. What killed ten thousand people? It was certainly not by the immediate consequences of the eruption. Lava flows, landslides and earthquakes did not kill so many people at once. What the authors claim is that the official cause of death--famine--may only be partially to blame. Fluorine poisoning, or fluorosis, may have been responsible for more human and animal deaths. The symptoms of fluorosis are haunting: weakening teeth and bones, bone deformities, inflamed and putrefied organs, gaping open sores, even the loss of the tongue. Animals grazed and ingested fluorine particles. No one could avoid fluorine getting into the water. The low dry haze was poison in the air and it was poisoning the population; 

The authors devoted chapters to discussing the overall Icelandic volcanic record, including more famous (or notorious) volcanoes such as Hekla and Eyjafjallajökull. They also branched out and discussed other volcanoes that had cataclysmic effects throughout world history. They did not rely on eruptions that shook the earth only in the last two thousand years, but used the earth's geological record to write about eruptions from millennia ago to show how the most violent volcanoes have rocked the world. Island on Fire also looked at the science of predicting volcanic activity and what we can do in advance of an eruption. 

I shall be giving a photo presentation documenting my sixteen-day tour around Iceland at the Mississauga Central Library on Tuesday, September 29 from 7:00 to 8:30 p.m. in meeting room CL3. Please call 905.615.3500 extension 3589 to register. Admission is free but registration is required. Come see my photos of volcanoes, waterfalls, glaciers and the most beautiful green scenery on this remarkable island. 

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's on-line catalogue

Eye Of The Beholder: Johannes Vermeer, Antoni Van Leeuwenhoek And The Reinvention Of Seeing

Laura J. Snyder’s book Eye of the Beholder is a work on early modern history but can just as easily be read as an adventure story.  Imagine being the first person to peer into a previously unknown world. Moreover, suppose that this never before seen realm is only touching distance away. It is a thought that when fully grasped and allowed to marinate in juices of possibilities sets the heart beating quicker. Just imagine being surrounded by family, friends and colleagues and not one of them has seen or experienced what you have. I think anyone faced with a similar situation would burn with a chemical hot desire to communicate what had been found. This is what two seventeenth century Dutch luminaries experienced: Vermeer and Leeuwenhoek, the former a painter the latter a natural philosopher. Both men were born in the same year (1632) in an era when science was just beginning to flex its muscles. Each made a discovery and each wanted to communicate this new vision, Vermeer with paintings and Van Leeuwenhoek with letters and reports to fellow natural philosophers.

Eye of the Beholder is set in golden age Netherlands in the 1600s. Vermeer is dabbling with mirrors and lenses and with a contraption called the camera obscura all in an effort to expand the boundaries of his art. These gadgets aided him in seeing the play of light, colour and shadow in new ways. In one painting, Woman in Blue Reading a Letter, Vermeer used many different colours to convey in scrupulous detail shadows cast by the various objects in the room, map, chairs and the like. The actual colour blue is used sparingly on the woman’s outfit. The shadows in the folds of her dress are conveyed with browns and blacks. Our minds supply the blue necessary to complete the dress to see, in other words, what is not there. The woman herself casts no shadow. Leeuwenhoek used the recently invented microscope to make startling discoveries of objects too small for the human eye to observe. Without knowing it he stumbled onto the world of microscopic bacteria. Leeuwenhoek became so enamoured with what he saw, all those strange swirling, floating microbes, that he came to think of them as pets. He mentions in letters to friends missing the tiny creatures living in his vials when he went off on vacation. What is common to Vermeer and Leeuwenhoek is their appropriation of the power of perspective. Each in his own way came to understand the power of learning to see. Snyder does a great job conveying the fascination and joy both men felt about their respective discoveries.

Leeuwenhoek’s story (Vermeer’s also) should be understood against the backdrop of the growing influence of science. There was stern reaction against authority in the seventeen and subsequent centuries. The enlightenment, which had not yet hit its full stride, was taking hold of hearts and minds. The phrase bandied about was “See for yourself,” meaning, don’t rely on others—the so called experts or people in positions of authority—to tell you what is really there, make your own independent determination of the facts of the matter. Leeuwenhoek, a religious man, did not see himself as battling against an established order but as describing something new. It is that near childlike innocence and delight that makes his story so compelling. 

I would recommend this book to someone who is interested in the history of science, art and golden age Netherlands. I would also recommend it to anyone who wants to experience what it would be like to be the first to discover something that no one else has seen. The Eye of the Beholder offers readers an opportunity to experience a leap into the unknown.

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's online catalogue. 

Zeitoun

It's almost impossible to write about Zeitoun without spoiling it, and the way in which the story unfolds gives it tremendous power. This book is another of our Library's "Raves and Faves," and I highly recommend it.

Zeitoun is the story of one man's, and one family's, ordeal during and after Hurricane Katrina. It is a story that sits at the intersection of two American nightmares: Katrina and the post-9/11 police state.

It is an answer to every person who feels "police state" and "fascism" are hyperbole when applied to the United States. In truth, that depends on your zip code, your skin colour, and your last name.

Considering I last visited New Orleans in 1992, I have a strangely personal relationship with Hurricane Katrina. August 30, 2005, the day Katrina hit New Orleans, was one of the most momentous days of my life: the day my partner and I moved to Canada. As with any move of this magnitude, we were unplugged from the world - no TV, no internet - for a couple of days before, and at least two days after. When we were back online, I struggled to take in the magnitude of what had happened. No matter how much we read, I felt like I never caught up.

In the 10 years since, in any story about the Katrina disaster, the dates jump out at me. I can picture us clearly, driving The World's Fullest Minivan with our beloved dogs, starting our new life. Right at those moments, tens of thousands of lives were shattered, ruined, or ended.

The Zeitouns' story is compelling, heroic, and deeply frightening. If you've ever been inclined to think, "That wouldn't happen here," or "But they would never do that", know that it did, and they already have.

As with What Is The What, Dave Eggers is using proceeds from this book to fund many very important and worthwhile causes. I highly recommend picking up a copy. [A version of this review was originally published at wmtc.]

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's online catalogue.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

I didn't expect to like Wild. Something about the phrase "best-selling memoir" just turns me off. But when the book was chosen as one of the Mississauga Library System's "Raves and Faves," I was intrigued. Those are always excellent books. (I'm quite proud that all five of my Raves and Faves suggestions made the list!) Wild turned out to be nonfiction that reads like fiction - page-turning suspense, told in a clean, clear writing style.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Coast Trail is a story of perseverance and redemption. Her life unhinged, battered by loss and confusion, the author decides to undertake a wilderness backpacking expedition. This is no casual walk in the woods; she's chosen a trail for which experienced backpackers may spend a year in training and research. Strayed is completely inexperienced and almost comically unprepared - comic, that is, if the consequences of failure weren't potentially life-threatening. At several points in the book, I thought, "Well, she must survive, because she wrote this book...".

Wild is suspenseful, moving, sad, uplifting, heartrending, and joyous. I was filled with wonder at this woman's strength, tenacity, and resilience. I was left contemplating that potential in all of us. [A version of this review was originally published on wmtc.]

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's online catalogue.

The Middle Ages

The Middle Ages by Johannes Fried, former professor of medieval history at the University of Frankfurt, was originally published in German and has recently been translated into English by Peter Lewis. The medieval period is a perennially fascinating subject. The mystique of a bygone “Dark Age” accounts for some of the fun in learning about this time in western history. We know, however, that the Middle Ages were not strictly a dark time in Europe. There was a great deal of diligent and intensive scholarly work on a variety of topics including logic and ecclesiastical topics. Tremendous efforts were expended to preserve and carry forward some of the spirit of the Greco-Roman heritage. This effort continued on for a thousand years throughout the early, high and late middle ages. Sure the collapse of the Roman Empire came with its accompaniment of destruction, tears and wailing but the situation ameliorated due in large part to the growth of two stabilising forces: church and crown.

Fried begins his narrative quiet early with the “barbarian” Ostrogoth King Theodoric and the death of Boethius. For those unfamiliar with the story, Boethius was a member of a rich and powerful Roman patrician family. He was considered a highly intelligent man in his day—but the sentiment doesn’t do the man justice. The fact that Boethius was sensitive to the failing standards of excellence in every facet of the disappearing Roman world, and that he tried desperately to fix the situation by translating Greek masterpieces of learning into Latin for future generations makes him extraordinary. Unfortunately, Boethius had only started on this grand and noble project when Theodoric, suspicious of this well connected Roman, had Boethius imprisoned and killed.

From the death of Boethius the story continues on to the relationship between the growing influence of the Papacy and the rising, centralizing power of the Franks. The church and crown dynamic will run through the rest of the Middle Ages and does a lot to define the era.  This great political tango to forge a mutually beneficial relationship between Pope and Emperor (and later, the various monarchs of Europe) is one of those endlessly debated topics in western political-cultural history. Sometimes the relationship was cordial other times it was hostile. For better and for worse the Papacy and the Monarchies needed each other. The political splintering of the Holy Roman Empire and, eventually, the religious splintering ended the uniformity of culture and belief that some have called Christendom.   

Fried has organized the book into major chapter headings, not necessarily by date but rather by larger historical currents. For example, in the chapter titled The End of Days Draws Menacingly Close, Fried looks at the idea popular at the time of the imminent end of days. Though the anxieties are discussed the chapter delves much more into cultural transitions in the church, and the growth in ideas of nobility. In another chapter, The True Emperor Is the Pope, Fried discusses the ongoing battle for the hearts and minds of Europeans fought between the papacy and monarchs to determine who would have ultimate power on the continent.  The Epilogue may be the best part of the book in the way it dismantles the whole notion of the Middle Ages as a time of uninterrupted ignorance and superstition.

Fried’s narrative style has flashes of eloquence but not enough of them. What I want from a book on Medieval history, metaphorically speaking, is to walk through a cathedral and witness the play of light on carved stone. Reading Fried’s Middle Ages sometimes felt like I was climbing up a flight of grey, concrete stairs. Not that the language is overly technical or strained, but that it is too conventional: this happened, and then this happened, and the result was that this happened. I don’t want to give the impression that the book is poorly written, it is not, but the experience was not all it could be. The pace and presentation was done with learnedness as the dominant guiding principle rather than the communication of a fascinating period in history. When these two elements coalesce, scholarship and narrative flare, then you get that time-travel magic. If you are looking from a comprehensive and erudite intellectual history of the Middle Ages this is a good one.

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's on-line catalogue