Monday Book Review

When Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Tony Horwitz set out to try to understand an interest in the Civil War that dated back to his childhood, he discovered the fiber of what makes the Southern United States a place of slow growth and deep feeling. As a boy Horwitz had been obsessed by the Matthew Brady photographs of the Civil War, a fascination he shared with his immigrant grandfather. Where other boys were focused on the space race, Horwitz imagined participating in the battles of the tragic past. He even painted the attic walls with figures from Civil War legends, thus the title, Confederates in the Attic.

One of the characters Horwitz came across in his travels was Robert Lee Hodge. Not a mere reenactor, Hodge was a “hardcore” and introduced Horwitz to the highs and lows of participating at that level. Horwitz came to understand that people like Hodge were trying to recapture a somewhat-spiritual participation in those events of the past, what they called a “period high.” Disdaining “farbs” and sustained by hardtack and adrenalin, the two men’s paths intersected throughout the book providing a continuity that moved the journey forward.

 In between his adventures with Hodge, Horwitz traveled and listened. He became more aware of deep pride in traditions, and how fear of losing those traditions had actually sustained communities that in other circumstances might have died.  He detected a hardening of hearts and a separation of peoples that was reflective of the loss of civility in society as a whole. He discerned the shift from dialog to diatribe and left the blogger wondering where we go from here. This book was published in 1998, and the hostility between Americans of differing viewpoints has become even greater. Liberals blame the Bush years for the loss of civility, but Horwitz did his research prior to that time. Could it be that we all are showing an appalling lack of respect for one another?

Reading this book is a good start for all of us. Many of us are good at opining and pontificating. To understand another person’s point of view, one needs to truly listen with humility and humor. Tony Horwitz models that, often despite extreme provocation.  The title might put some readers off, thinking it is only about the Civil War. Don’t let it dissuade you – the Civil War is the framework, but this book is about so much more.

/kw

 

The Wordzzle Mini

As written by our own dear Charly:

The California doctor, an old crank on good days, saw his assistant use his stethoscope to strangle the red-headed night nurse while on duty late one night. The doctor needing alimony money sent a blackmail letter to the assistant the next day. Unfortunately, the letter was returned three days later for insufficient postage. Imagine his chagrin as he opened up the morning newspaper and saw where his assistant had been arrested. Umm, perhaps he could outsmart the cops as he revisited the killing scene in his mind..he reached for the phone to arrange a meeting with his wife. As he left his apartment, he put his stethoscope in his pocket.    

Anyone else? E-mail us!

Wordzzle #3

This is the third week of a "Saturday Puzzle" for the Friends blog. For the foreseeable future (subject to pre-emption by FRRL business) the blogger will post a word challenge for our devotees. Let us know what you think!

A wordzzle challenge is where you take 10 preselected words and make a short paragraph from them. There is also a mini, where you do the same with 5. And if you're an enthusiast, you can do all 15! If you want more guidance, look here at the blog views from Raven's Nest.

Once you are satisfied with your paragraph, you can post it as a comment to this post, OR, e-mail it to us here.

These are the words you were to use this week: parasite, meals on wheels, crows, it's my fault, everything but the kitchen sink, on sale, patriotism, the love of my life, library card, common sense

For the mini: blackmail, California, stethoscope, postage, crank

Why don't you play along?  Here are the words for the NEXT Wordzzle. You have until next Saturday!

Next Week's Ten Word Challenge will be: swashbuckler, heads-up, dry martini, recovery, jungle gym, whiskers, bathing suit, spade, circular reasoning, abrasive

The Mini Challenge: butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, stagnation, chart, star crossed lovers, apricot brandy

At the request of some, the blogger brought back the hooded man for her offering this week. Just the challenge, not the mini.

The hooded man hurried through the alleys of the old city, moving steadily as the dark of evening descended. He ducked suddenly through a doorway and entered a room filled with everything but the kitchen sink, all of it the detritus of past civilizations. “Angelo!” he called. “I’m back.” A door in the back, almost indistinguishable in the hazy darkness, opened. A tall giant of a man emerged. He made an odd picture. He was wearing a long red gown, was heavily bearded, and his shoulders served as perches for two crows, one on each side. “Were you noticed?” Angelo asked. “I’m afraid so. It’s my fault for being so close to the site,” the hooded man answered. “Where was your common sense?” Angelo inquired, an eyebrow perched high like a look-out. “I know -- I’m sorry. Those old ruins are the love of my life,” said the hooded man.

“No one followed me,” he continued.” I made sure of that. I came the long way.” “Well,
 Angelo conceded, “it doesn’t matter now. How much time do you think we have?” The hooded man considered, and answered, “Red, Blue and Silver were all there, but they have much further to go to report and receive instruction. So, I think perhaps 3 hours?”

“Alright, you’ll have to find a different look for when you return.  You can wear one of those uniforms.” Angelo gestured to a rack of dusty uniforms representing many countries. All of them were discards from colonial powers who had once occupied their country. “Those aren’t even current!” the hooded man objected. “Just combine enough pieces to look smart, and act like you’re in charge. These idiots are so full of pre-colonial patriotism, they won’t be able to tell whether you’re a military official or a meals on wheels provider,” Angelo rejoined. “Now tell me about the parasites at the dig. Have they figured out what the figure is?”

The hooded man moved over to the uniforms. As he started rummaging through them, he talked back over his shoulder to the giant. “I don’t think so. That lead excavator was practically salivating at the sculpture. They’ve left guards on it for the night.”

Angelo directed, “then find a uniform and you can go back tonight. Sound official and convince them they must show you that the find is still intact. Make lots of noise about foreigners trying to steal our cultural treasures.” The hooded man turned toward him. “I don’t have any identification or credentials to get closer to the site!” he exclaimed. “Bah!” cried Angelo. “Those cretins won’t be able to tell that from just looking at you. Flash a library card and they’ll let you in!” He handed the hooded man a small pen. “This has a camera in it. Use it to take photos of the sculpture. We must be the first to have them. I’ll alert the crew to begin formulation. Time is of the essence.”

The hooded man sighed, and put the pen in his pocket. “Angelo,” he began to ask, “must I wear the hood? I would like some other name in this story than the hooded man!” “Well,” the big man began. “I don’t think you should wear the hood with a uniform. Okay. You can take it off.” The hooded man smiled in relief. “That was getting quite old!”

The next morning at dawn Dr. Hill began his morning walk to the site. As he passed the shopkeepers, he greeted them. Many of them responded with a smirk. Dr. Hill wasn’t quite sure what was being conveyed by those looks. He decided to cut through the market to grab a newspaper, certain that the smirks meant some foreigner had done something grievous again. As he entered the market square he looked around him in astonishment. All over the market place replicas of the sculpture from the site were on sale! “How could this have happened?” he wondered aloud. “Could it be connected with the hooded man that I saw watching us yesterday?” One of the vendors took pity on him. “No, Dr. Hill. Not the hooded man. Perhaps the man with the unusual uniform though.”

 /kw