Got a Buffalo wireless router and access point to replace the old one. This one has three times the range and twice the throughput of a traditional 802.11g router. Only $40 at www.Newegg.com
Also, bought myself a Tesoro Ciboli. What, you might ask, is that? It's a metal detector. Hope to find some relics with it.
The WB got an ambulance, construction set, a red bike, and assorted smaller items. He asked a lot of questions on the mechanics of Santa and the Reindeer. For instance, How could he get through the glass cover on the gas fireplace? Why didn't he just come through the door? Where, indeed, IS the chimney?
All answers were provided, of course. But he had the same demeaner as we did at that age. To wit, "OK, if you say so, I'll go along with it, but I have reservations". One does not ask too many questions when toys are involved.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Book Review: The Civil War - A Narrative
No, this is not the book review that reveals the identity of the girl in the previous post.
Actually, back in October, we here at the city desk of the Factual Dog went to bed one night and discovered that we were out of new books to read. Since that would clearly not do, we went down to the basement library and started re-reading the first few pages of Shelby Foote's three-part series, "The Civil War - A Narrative, Volume 1". We first read this 2,800 page saga in 1991 (old bookmarks in the form scrap paper, such as receipts, showed the exact dates and locations I was reading it - in one case on a flight to Saginaw, Michigan).
As our readers know, we have a facination/obsession with everything Civil War, and Foote's "Narrative" is nothing short of epic. It is as readible as the best novel you will find, and as comprehensive as anything written on the subject. Moreover, he tells the story with something even the best historians lack: balance. This is not to say Foote is in any way defending the south from a political point of view. Rather, he gives you the facts as seen from both sides. You may not agree with any one political faction, but you certainly do get in the minds of the people who started and fought the war. We only give 5 star ratings to a very, very few books. This is one.
He also strikes a balance between East and West. For most Americans (at least the ones who have even a basic familiarity with American history), the Civil War was basically about Gettysburg and Grant and Lee duking it out in Virginia. Foote dedicates as much - or nearly as much - space on the "western" theater as on the east. Few people could tell you that Chicamauga was the second bloodiest battle of the War. Or that Shiloh had more casualties than the Revolution, the War of 1812, and the Mexican War combined. And Shiloh ended up at around 10th place on the list of Civil War battle casualties. Grant and Lee, remember, opposed each other for all of 13 months, almost entirely within an area of about 100 x 75 miles. The entire front was over 1,000 miles long, and there were over 10,000 battles and skirmishes.
So after reading 2,000 pages over the next six weeks, we decided to give it a rest at the North Anna River (June, 1864). We will finish it up sometime later in the year, but meanwhile, a shipment of seven books came in - none having to do with the Civil War, btw. So last week we read a book about the young woman in the picture (hint, she was 28 at the time, and is now deceased). We are now reading "Freakonmics", which is short but interesting. Will get a review out on both in no time.
Actually, back in October, we here at the city desk of the Factual Dog went to bed one night and discovered that we were out of new books to read. Since that would clearly not do, we went down to the basement library and started re-reading the first few pages of Shelby Foote's three-part series, "The Civil War - A Narrative, Volume 1". We first read this 2,800 page saga in 1991 (old bookmarks in the form scrap paper, such as receipts, showed the exact dates and locations I was reading it - in one case on a flight to Saginaw, Michigan).
As our readers know, we have a facination/obsession with everything Civil War, and Foote's "Narrative" is nothing short of epic. It is as readible as the best novel you will find, and as comprehensive as anything written on the subject. Moreover, he tells the story with something even the best historians lack: balance. This is not to say Foote is in any way defending the south from a political point of view. Rather, he gives you the facts as seen from both sides. You may not agree with any one political faction, but you certainly do get in the minds of the people who started and fought the war. We only give 5 star ratings to a very, very few books. This is one.
He also strikes a balance between East and West. For most Americans (at least the ones who have even a basic familiarity with American history), the Civil War was basically about Gettysburg and Grant and Lee duking it out in Virginia. Foote dedicates as much - or nearly as much - space on the "western" theater as on the east. Few people could tell you that Chicamauga was the second bloodiest battle of the War. Or that Shiloh had more casualties than the Revolution, the War of 1812, and the Mexican War combined. And Shiloh ended up at around 10th place on the list of Civil War battle casualties. Grant and Lee, remember, opposed each other for all of 13 months, almost entirely within an area of about 100 x 75 miles. The entire front was over 1,000 miles long, and there were over 10,000 battles and skirmishes.
So after reading 2,000 pages over the next six weeks, we decided to give it a rest at the North Anna River (June, 1864). We will finish it up sometime later in the year, but meanwhile, a shipment of seven books came in - none having to do with the Civil War, btw. So last week we read a book about the young woman in the picture (hint, she was 28 at the time, and is now deceased). We are now reading "Freakonmics", which is short but interesting. Will get a review out on both in no time.
Hmmm...New Version of Blogger
Just downloaded the new version of Blogger. I'm sure there are some cool options in here somewhere. I just don't see them.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
The Raconteurs and Bob Dylan, November 17, 2006
Saw the Raconteurs and Bob Dylan at the Patriot Center the other night. Went with GB (who gets a hat tip for organizing this little outing), DC and Will. I hadn’t been to the Patriot Center since seeing an “HFS Nutcracker” c. 1992. It’s a serviceable if unremarkable venue. This was my first exposure to the Raconteurs, and they were definitely worth seeing. I’d describe their music as hard rock of the pre-big hair Heavy Metal era (i.e., back when heavy metal was defined by powerful drums, driving bass, and assertive lead guitar, rather than by satanic symbolism and overdone stage make up). They are what we grew up calling a Rock Band: A lead vocalist, a bass player, a drummer, and a rhythm guitarist. We caught about an hour of their show, and I look forward to catching them again, hopefully outdoors.
As for Dylan, in a sense this was the first time I’d seen him too. Everything about his music and stage presence – except perhaps the lyrics themselves – is completely different from when I saw him in 1994. Which in turn was completely different from when I saw him in 1987.
Someone once said “All my favorite singers couldn’t sing”, in an oblique reference to Dylan. I had always felt that Dylan’s supposed reputation for being a poor singer was an urban myth, unless I just didn’t understand the definition of singer. He has written and performed some of the most beautiful songs ever recorded. Nowadays, I have to admit that I can’t find a whole lot in his music, particularly onstage, that I find appealing. In his current incarnation, he sings in a deep raspy voice that is akin to Tom Waits, in the same sense that Dylan’s first recordings back in 1962 sounded an awful lot like Woody Guthrie. Not that Dylan is emulating the former, in the way that he clearly was paying homage to the latter, but I can’t think of another way to describe his singing style. He is much more low key than ever, never even bothering to face the audience.
I couldn't help but sensing that many people in the audience were expecting him to stand up with his guitar and play his songs the way they know them. But they should have known not to expect that. My expectations were pretty much in line with what was delivered, so I wasn’t overly disappointed. The only thing that I found dissatisfying was that he didn’t play guitar at all. He stood at a little keyboard the whole time. Apparently there are rumors that he doesn’t play the guitar anymore due to back problems, but nobody has confirmed that.
Finally, a draw for me when it comes to a Bob Dylan show these days is the opportunity to see living history. Being in the presence of one of the central cultural figures of the 20th century is reason enough to go see him - once. He has always been an enigma, and one should know going in that he is not going to perform his old songs in the familiar way, like Neil Diamond for instance. But I think this is the last time for me. I’ll stick to the music of his that I love, and thankfully there is more than enough of that to last a lifetime.
As for Dylan, in a sense this was the first time I’d seen him too. Everything about his music and stage presence – except perhaps the lyrics themselves – is completely different from when I saw him in 1994. Which in turn was completely different from when I saw him in 1987.
Someone once said “All my favorite singers couldn’t sing”, in an oblique reference to Dylan. I had always felt that Dylan’s supposed reputation for being a poor singer was an urban myth, unless I just didn’t understand the definition of singer. He has written and performed some of the most beautiful songs ever recorded. Nowadays, I have to admit that I can’t find a whole lot in his music, particularly onstage, that I find appealing. In his current incarnation, he sings in a deep raspy voice that is akin to Tom Waits, in the same sense that Dylan’s first recordings back in 1962 sounded an awful lot like Woody Guthrie. Not that Dylan is emulating the former, in the way that he clearly was paying homage to the latter, but I can’t think of another way to describe his singing style. He is much more low key than ever, never even bothering to face the audience.
I couldn't help but sensing that many people in the audience were expecting him to stand up with his guitar and play his songs the way they know them. But they should have known not to expect that. My expectations were pretty much in line with what was delivered, so I wasn’t overly disappointed. The only thing that I found dissatisfying was that he didn’t play guitar at all. He stood at a little keyboard the whole time. Apparently there are rumors that he doesn’t play the guitar anymore due to back problems, but nobody has confirmed that.
Finally, a draw for me when it comes to a Bob Dylan show these days is the opportunity to see living history. Being in the presence of one of the central cultural figures of the 20th century is reason enough to go see him - once. He has always been an enigma, and one should know going in that he is not going to perform his old songs in the familiar way, like Neil Diamond for instance. But I think this is the last time for me. I’ll stick to the music of his that I love, and thankfully there is more than enough of that to last a lifetime.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Kennecott, AK. The copper processing facililty for what at the time was the largest copper mine in the world. Abandonded without notice, it is a massive time capsule in the middle of nowhere. The mining company sent men there to burn it down in the 1940s, but seemed to forget to pay them. The men decided that if they weren't going to get paid, they weren't going to torch the place. This was one very fortunate missed payday. The tour costs $25 and takes over two hours. The price seemed steep at first blush; but at the end of the day, I felt it was worth every cent. Time is frozen inside these buildings. These are not reproductions or restorations. The machinery - even small items like gloves, tools, and other materials - are still there. It's as if a small civilization just vanished on a summer day in 1938.
The old railroad bridge to McCarthy. It carried copper ore from the mountains down to Cordova, where the ore was shipped to the smelting plants on the West Coast. The last copper shipment was in 1938. After that, locals used the bridge for driving. The last person to cross it in a car reportedly did so in 1968. Now it is a relic, slowly being consumed by the vast wilderness.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Downtown McCarthy, AK
This is actually a very early morning shot. All the dogs and people who usually congregate in the middle of the street are still sleeping. Citizens of this town stay up late and sleep late. Very little is open before 1o or 11 am.
"1 2 Many Corronas"
Came across this car about 10 miles out of McCarthy. I had met the one of the guys who was driving it at the local bar in McArthy a few nights earlier. Seemed they were drinking and headed into "town" the previous night when they got a flat tire at about 10 pm. They put the donut spare on and tried to continue, but the road ate that up as well. They walked the rest of the way. He didn't seem to fazed about it when I talked to him. Said he would make the 300 mile round trip to Glenallen and buy a new tire, after a few more days in McCarthy. Beats the standard $1,000 towing charge from the nearest service station.
Blue Ice
The only place were you can find this color of blue in nature is in ice calved from glaciers. Something about the mineral content and the crystalization patterns, I think. 
Columbia Glacier, 5 miles away
We kayaked about three more miles from this spot. The camera actually stopped working soon thereafter.
Beautiful Valdez Alaska
This is the view of Valdez Alaska from from the water. Except for the day of kayaking, the weather was pretty much like this the rest of the time.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Rain, rain and more rain
Here we are, back in Anchorage. Twelve days into the trip, and solid rain for ten of them. Was supposed to take the ferry from Valdez to Whittier, then up the Seward Highway today. But on account of the weather, got a standby spot on yesterday's ferry. A word to anyone planning a trip to Alaska: Valdez is not a place to be when it is raining. Particularly during the heaviest rain in 25 years. There is absolutely nothing to do. They don't even have a movie theatrer.
At least I had a book. Jeff Shaara's "To the Last Man", a novel about World War I, is a good read, as are all his books. But I could be doing that at home.
On the one nice day, Monday, I took a sea kayak and a guide up to within two miles of the Columbia Glacier. Since it was the nicest day of the summer, we paddled up five miles closer to the glacier than even the guide had ever been. The Columbia is the second largest tidewater glacier in North America, and is truly a freak of nature, with a 3 mile face that is 300 feet high. We paddled within two miles of the face, which is as close as one wants to be as the glacier is prone to calving stadium-sized chunks of ice from the bottom 1,000 feet below the surface. We did see huge chunks calving off the face. Saw lots of sea otters and seals, including one seal who kept popping up around the kayaks. Afgter a totoal of twnty miles of kayaking, I was completely burnt out by day's end.
Yesterday the weather was nice for the ferry ride and drive up to Anchorage. I even saw a moose. But I awoke to more cold rain this morning. Now I'm just poking around Anchorage, but don't have any interest in being outside in this weather. Too bad, as the Cugach State Park is right outside of town, and there is no end to the great outdoor activities within an hour of here.
Will post pictures when I get home.
At least I had a book. Jeff Shaara's "To the Last Man", a novel about World War I, is a good read, as are all his books. But I could be doing that at home.
On the one nice day, Monday, I took a sea kayak and a guide up to within two miles of the Columbia Glacier. Since it was the nicest day of the summer, we paddled up five miles closer to the glacier than even the guide had ever been. The Columbia is the second largest tidewater glacier in North America, and is truly a freak of nature, with a 3 mile face that is 300 feet high. We paddled within two miles of the face, which is as close as one wants to be as the glacier is prone to calving stadium-sized chunks of ice from the bottom 1,000 feet below the surface. We did see huge chunks calving off the face. Saw lots of sea otters and seals, including one seal who kept popping up around the kayaks. Afgter a totoal of twnty miles of kayaking, I was completely burnt out by day's end.
Yesterday the weather was nice for the ferry ride and drive up to Anchorage. I even saw a moose. But I awoke to more cold rain this morning. Now I'm just poking around Anchorage, but don't have any interest in being outside in this weather. Too bad, as the Cugach State Park is right outside of town, and there is no end to the great outdoor activities within an hour of here.
Will post pictures when I get home.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Out of the Wild
Got back to McCarthy in one piece Friday. Very wet and cold backpacking trip. Huge, desolate country out there in the Bremner district of the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. The Chugach mountains are about as spooky a place as I've ever been. Didn't see any grizzlies, but their signs were all around - footprints and scat in many places. My boots are basically destroyed - hiking up 1000 foot scree slopes isn't the best thing for one's feet.
Hung around McCarthy Friday night and went to a party with a bunch of locals. About 30 pounds of freshly caught Copper River red salmon was on the grill. This is the best salmon in the world. A good restaurant in the DC area would charge $30 for an 8 oz serving. We had so much piled on our plates that we could not eat it all. The local dogs ate the leftovers.
Toured the abandoned copper ore processsing plant yesterday. It is a massive facility in an extremely remote location that was abruptly shut down in 1941. Everything is still as it was then - no restoration has been done. It's just a massive time capsule. Very cool. Saw a band at the local saloon Saturday night, again hanging out with locals and a few other travellers. The band was playing original material plus several Wilco and Uncle Tupelo numbers. The bartender was playing Will Oldham amond other good selections on the 25 watt sound system before the show. I was getting to like McCarthy quite a bit, so it was good that I moved on this morning before it started to wear on me.
Drove to Valdez today. Very rainy. Missed the spectacular views at Thompson Pass due to the clouds. Will go sea kayaking tomorrow. Weather is supposed to improve.
Hung around McCarthy Friday night and went to a party with a bunch of locals. About 30 pounds of freshly caught Copper River red salmon was on the grill. This is the best salmon in the world. A good restaurant in the DC area would charge $30 for an 8 oz serving. We had so much piled on our plates that we could not eat it all. The local dogs ate the leftovers.
Toured the abandoned copper ore processsing plant yesterday. It is a massive facility in an extremely remote location that was abruptly shut down in 1941. Everything is still as it was then - no restoration has been done. It's just a massive time capsule. Very cool. Saw a band at the local saloon Saturday night, again hanging out with locals and a few other travellers. The band was playing original material plus several Wilco and Uncle Tupelo numbers. The bartender was playing Will Oldham amond other good selections on the 25 watt sound system before the show. I was getting to like McCarthy quite a bit, so it was good that I moved on this morning before it started to wear on me.
Drove to Valdez today. Very rainy. Missed the spectacular views at Thompson Pass due to the clouds. Will go sea kayaking tomorrow. Weather is supposed to improve.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Post from McCarthy, AK (pop. 40 (Winter), 200 (Summer)
Arrived last night after 8 hour drive from Anchorage. Dusted off the boots for a "warm up" hike today from Kennicott (a mining ghost town slowly being restored by the park service) to almost the top of Bonanza ridge to the old mine ruins there. 3,000 foot climb in 4.5 miles. Was a little unnerved by the Park Service bulletin posted on the trail head saying "Beware of problemmatic Bear in the area". It had been posted two hours before. It seems some campers had one of their tents ripped apart by a black bear while they were somewhere else, and this bear was exhibiting other signs of having lost its natural fear of humans.
I ran into the campers, two college students and a girl from Quebec they picked up somewhere along the road, near the top of the mountain. They and a remarably pretty girl decending the peak alone were the only people I ran into the whole day. She was acting like it was a walk in the park - which I suppose it was in a literal sense. Anyway, the kids were nice, and didn't seem too fazed that one of their tents was shredded and unusable. They seemed more interested in finding hot food and beers when they got to the bottom - that and the cheapest room around. I got a head start down the mountain at about 2:30 - the wind was picking up, and it was in the upper 40s by this time.
The park rangers had advised me, since I would be alone, to sing loudly to myself while I walked through the trail that went through dense brush. So I tried that, and the feeling of awkwardness soon wore off. Problem was, it took too much focus to think of lyrics, so I went back to the boy scout standby, "99 bottles of beer on the wall. The final count was something like 3,000 bottles of beer on the wall by the end of the day". Toward the end, the college students and their Quebecqois girl friend had caught up with me. Except they didn't tell me for a while that they were about 50 yeard behind me giggling as I sang. When they finally let their presence be known, they were right behind me. This was in a particularly spooky part of the trail with lots of overgrowth and twists and turns. So the split second I heard a noise, I was I spun around with the bear spray, finger on the trigger and safety off pointed in their direction. We all had a good laugh.
I'm all showered up now, and about to grab dinner. The big trip is tomorrow. I'll do my best to post as soon as I'm back either Friday night or Saturday. Right now, I'm on a porch of a 100- year old mining office (or bordello, I'm not sure), and the mosquitos are starting to swarm.
I ran into the campers, two college students and a girl from Quebec they picked up somewhere along the road, near the top of the mountain. They and a remarably pretty girl decending the peak alone were the only people I ran into the whole day. She was acting like it was a walk in the park - which I suppose it was in a literal sense. Anyway, the kids were nice, and didn't seem too fazed that one of their tents was shredded and unusable. They seemed more interested in finding hot food and beers when they got to the bottom - that and the cheapest room around. I got a head start down the mountain at about 2:30 - the wind was picking up, and it was in the upper 40s by this time.
The park rangers had advised me, since I would be alone, to sing loudly to myself while I walked through the trail that went through dense brush. So I tried that, and the feeling of awkwardness soon wore off. Problem was, it took too much focus to think of lyrics, so I went back to the boy scout standby, "99 bottles of beer on the wall. The final count was something like 3,000 bottles of beer on the wall by the end of the day". Toward the end, the college students and their Quebecqois girl friend had caught up with me. Except they didn't tell me for a while that they were about 50 yeard behind me giggling as I sang. When they finally let their presence be known, they were right behind me. This was in a particularly spooky part of the trail with lots of overgrowth and twists and turns. So the split second I heard a noise, I was I spun around with the bear spray, finger on the trigger and safety off pointed in their direction. We all had a good laugh.
I'm all showered up now, and about to grab dinner. The big trip is tomorrow. I'll do my best to post as soon as I'm back either Friday night or Saturday. Right now, I'm on a porch of a 100- year old mining office (or bordello, I'm not sure), and the mosquitos are starting to swarm.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Back in Business!!
After a nine month hiatus, the Factual Dog has officially reopened its doors.
As some of you may recall, we promised that the re-launching of this blog would be accompanied by a new moniker. Upon many hours of deep reflection and deliberation, we decided to retain The Factual Dog on our masthead. True, the Dog does not live with us anymore. She is happily ensconced in a new dog house about 75 miles away. She is being well taken care of and is feisty as ever. Yet, the fact that she is no longer here has no material bearing on our ability to produce a quality product.
You see, the Dog never actually talked to us. Simply put, she was – and is – an animal: a furry, constantly shedding, tail wagging pooch. This may come as a shock to our readers; but we were merely using her as a cheap literary device to represent our own alter-ego in an allegorical dialogue between two imaginary parties.
Now that we have that off our chests, some further disclosure is in order. A few weeks ago, we posted a topographic map under the heading “Into the Wild”. No explanation was given. The significance of this map is that it shows the route that we will be hiking in the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park on August 15-19. We are very much looking forward to this adventure. As a special treat to our readers, we will be keeping a log of this trip, which will be posted in its entirety along with plenty of photos upon our return.
In the meantime, we will be very busy with preparations for the trip. We have wanted to do something like this for our entire lives, and now is the opportunity. Still, there is a fine line between an exhilarating outdoors experience and disaster. The best way to keep on the safe side of that line is to be prepared for every possible contingency. Dangers include hypothermia, disorientation, injury from a fall or rock slide, stream crossings, and encounters with aggressive moose or bears. We take these risks extremely seriously, and are taking every measure to ensure our safety. No corners are being cut.
We have had an exceptionally rough year, and need a break. We urge you to not misunderstand us – we do not want to “escape” from anything or put ourselves at unnecessary risk. We want – we need - fresh air, open spaces, complete solitude and a truly unique physical and mental challenge.
We read Into the Wild, which described the ultimately deadly journey of a troubled man into the woods in Alaska. We also saw “Grizzly Man”, which was also about an end-of-the-roader who rejected society in favor of living with bears in the Alaskan bush. He eventually became their meal. We understand, to an extent, some of the motivation and even pathology of these men. But they were completely off balance, and did not care whether they lived or died. The complete opposite is the case with us. Those men saw Alaska as the end of the road. For us, Alaska is just another place that the long road passes through.
Keep checking in, and we’ll post all the details as soon as we get back
As some of you may recall, we promised that the re-launching of this blog would be accompanied by a new moniker. Upon many hours of deep reflection and deliberation, we decided to retain The Factual Dog on our masthead. True, the Dog does not live with us anymore. She is happily ensconced in a new dog house about 75 miles away. She is being well taken care of and is feisty as ever. Yet, the fact that she is no longer here has no material bearing on our ability to produce a quality product.
You see, the Dog never actually talked to us. Simply put, she was – and is – an animal: a furry, constantly shedding, tail wagging pooch. This may come as a shock to our readers; but we were merely using her as a cheap literary device to represent our own alter-ego in an allegorical dialogue between two imaginary parties.
Now that we have that off our chests, some further disclosure is in order. A few weeks ago, we posted a topographic map under the heading “Into the Wild”. No explanation was given. The significance of this map is that it shows the route that we will be hiking in the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park on August 15-19. We are very much looking forward to this adventure. As a special treat to our readers, we will be keeping a log of this trip, which will be posted in its entirety along with plenty of photos upon our return.
In the meantime, we will be very busy with preparations for the trip. We have wanted to do something like this for our entire lives, and now is the opportunity. Still, there is a fine line between an exhilarating outdoors experience and disaster. The best way to keep on the safe side of that line is to be prepared for every possible contingency. Dangers include hypothermia, disorientation, injury from a fall or rock slide, stream crossings, and encounters with aggressive moose or bears. We take these risks extremely seriously, and are taking every measure to ensure our safety. No corners are being cut.
We have had an exceptionally rough year, and need a break. We urge you to not misunderstand us – we do not want to “escape” from anything or put ourselves at unnecessary risk. We want – we need - fresh air, open spaces, complete solitude and a truly unique physical and mental challenge.
We read Into the Wild, which described the ultimately deadly journey of a troubled man into the woods in Alaska. We also saw “Grizzly Man”, which was also about an end-of-the-roader who rejected society in favor of living with bears in the Alaskan bush. He eventually became their meal. We understand, to an extent, some of the motivation and even pathology of these men. But they were completely off balance, and did not care whether they lived or died. The complete opposite is the case with us. Those men saw Alaska as the end of the road. For us, Alaska is just another place that the long road passes through.
Keep checking in, and we’ll post all the details as soon as we get back
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Mayflower Review
The following is my first book review in some time.
For those expecting another gripping Nathaniel Philbrick tale of seafaring adventure like "In the Heart of the Sea" or "Sea of Glory", you will not find what you are looking for in “Mayflower”. This book gives almost no attention to the actual voyage across the ocean. That expectation is not unrealistic considering the title, the cover art and the author's previous books. I deduct one star from my rating for setting the wrong expectations.
Mayflower does give you a decent understanding of the bookends of the history of Plymouth Colony: Its founding in 1620 and King Phillips War in 1675-76. Little serious attention is given to the time in between, particularly with respect to what was happening in Massachusetts and the other Colonies. I understand the need to maintain focus on the subject. However, a chapter or two on the broader settlement of North America that occurred during that crucial period would help provide some context to the events described in the book. For example, Boston - and a constellation of smaller settlements - seems to appear out of the ether at about the midpoint of the narrative.
Moreover, too much of the description of King Phillip's War is repetitive of "Abram's Eyes", which is a lesser known Philbrick history about the Native Americans of Nantucket Island. For recycling much of his work from a previous book, I felt compelled to deduct an additional star.
As for the arguments about whether he was too pro-Indian or too pro-Pilgrim, I thought he was relatively balanced. An author can't touch a subject like this today without annoying some people. So I respect him for trying. That said, his urging of modern day Americans to "understand" the motives of our enemies rather than to kill them came across like a needless platitude. Deduct one star for gratuitously taking one paragraph of a history of Plymouth Colony to make an out-of-context and far too general analogy to the War on Terror, without taking the time to expand on his point for even one page to support his argument. I would not have deducted a star for his believing what he said, it’s just that his presentation betrayed a degree of laziness and condescension that I did not expect from him.
Mayflower is a more ambitious project than Philbrick’s previous books. Unfortunately, he seems to have reached beyond his capabilities and shown he is nowhere near the caliber of a historian as McCullough, McPherson or Ellis. When this book comes out in paperback, I recommend getting it for a nice one-weekend read. But keep your expectations in check.
For those expecting another gripping Nathaniel Philbrick tale of seafaring adventure like "In the Heart of the Sea" or "Sea of Glory", you will not find what you are looking for in “Mayflower”. This book gives almost no attention to the actual voyage across the ocean. That expectation is not unrealistic considering the title, the cover art and the author's previous books. I deduct one star from my rating for setting the wrong expectations.
Mayflower does give you a decent understanding of the bookends of the history of Plymouth Colony: Its founding in 1620 and King Phillips War in 1675-76. Little serious attention is given to the time in between, particularly with respect to what was happening in Massachusetts and the other Colonies. I understand the need to maintain focus on the subject. However, a chapter or two on the broader settlement of North America that occurred during that crucial period would help provide some context to the events described in the book. For example, Boston - and a constellation of smaller settlements - seems to appear out of the ether at about the midpoint of the narrative.
Moreover, too much of the description of King Phillip's War is repetitive of "Abram's Eyes", which is a lesser known Philbrick history about the Native Americans of Nantucket Island. For recycling much of his work from a previous book, I felt compelled to deduct an additional star.
As for the arguments about whether he was too pro-Indian or too pro-Pilgrim, I thought he was relatively balanced. An author can't touch a subject like this today without annoying some people. So I respect him for trying. That said, his urging of modern day Americans to "understand" the motives of our enemies rather than to kill them came across like a needless platitude. Deduct one star for gratuitously taking one paragraph of a history of Plymouth Colony to make an out-of-context and far too general analogy to the War on Terror, without taking the time to expand on his point for even one page to support his argument. I would not have deducted a star for his believing what he said, it’s just that his presentation betrayed a degree of laziness and condescension that I did not expect from him.
Mayflower is a more ambitious project than Philbrick’s previous books. Unfortunately, he seems to have reached beyond his capabilities and shown he is nowhere near the caliber of a historian as McCullough, McPherson or Ellis. When this book comes out in paperback, I recommend getting it for a nice one-weekend read. But keep your expectations in check.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Help is on the way
This site will come back to life in a few short months. This all has to do with time, or lack thereof, as a result of ongoing issues. Lots and lots of good stuff and a new name await our patient readers.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Update
Your humble correspondent is alive and well. The relaunch of the Factual Dog, under a new moniker, is scheduled for July, 2006. The writers, staff and management promise a much more dynamic and provocative product than the previous incarnation. We are committed to seeing that you get your money's worth, and are planning big things. So come back and see us in July.
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