Oh yeah! I’m back home!
So we’ll resume with the planned programming at some point. And I will fill you all in on what happened with the Uni. of Bridgeport.

Because everyone loves a good dystopic novella. And this one is particularly relevant!

The Machine Stops was written in 1909 and Forster’s vision is really quite amazing considering most people didn’t even own a phone at the time. Forster wrote of a world in which humans rarely leave their personal apartments because all of their needs are provided by “The Machine.” Communication is conducted via an Edwardian conception of the web cam, music and literature are provided instantaneously. It’s eerie because with the technology available to us today it IS possible to live in almost complete isolation. Except instead of “The Machine” providing our every want and need, we have the internet, AIM, delivery services, etcetera, etcetera. Well written and a fairly quick read. Classic. Included in the Science Fiction Hall of Fame.

No need to purchase: http://brighton.ncsa.uiuc.edu/prajlich/forster.html

(Article removed).

(I promised a three-part series on rich people, but that can wait. Because I found The Third Crusade).

There’s something slightly thrilling about an authorless work, and while historians have speculated for centuries, all that is certain (as of the 1950s) is that a 12th French century monk wrote the original manuscript and that it was translated several times over the centuries. This particular edition was translated by Kenneth Fenwick who seems to have done a rather good job indeed. Our nameless hero traveled to the Holy Land for God and Country as part of the Third Crusade, which was an attempt by the Christian to reconquer the Holy Land from Saladin. It did not work. (Look up “The Fourth Crusade.” Which did not work. So look up “The Fifth Crusade.” Which did not work. So look up “The Sixth Crusade.” Etcetera, etcetera.)

In the year of the Incarnate Word of our Lord 1187… the Lord’s hand fell heavily on His people, if indeed it is right to call those ‘His people’ whom uncleanness of life and habits, and the foulness of their vices, had alimented from his favor. Their licentiousness had indeed become so flagrant that they all of them (casting aside the veil of shame) rushed headlong in the face of day into sin.

That is the sort of language that can be expected here. So it is a dense but fascinating volume. Full of violence and holy things. Also, the authoring monk is a racist, jaded and unfeeling bastard, which can be rather amusing at times, though I might just be assuming he’s unfeeling because the narrative style is rather “Here’s what happened. And then this happened next. And this happened after that.” They weren’t as into character development back in the day. Fully illustrated with strangely colored 50s woodblocks. Really quite a beautiful volume.

A cloud of dust obscured the air as our men marched on and, in addition to the heat, they had an enemy pressing them in the rear, insolent, and rendered obstinate by the instigation of the Devil. Still, the Christians proved good men and, secure in their unconquerable spirit, kept constantly advancing, while the Turks threatened them without ceasing in the rear; but their blows fell harmless upon the defensive armor, and this caused the Turks to slacken in courage at the failure of their attempts, and they began to murmur in whispers of disappointment, crying out in their rage that our people were of iron and would yield to no blow.

Fenwick, Kenneth (translator). The Third Crusade. London: Folio Society. 1958.

I’m going away for a while. But expect a new series upon my return. (I figure I’m going to work in themes so there’s some semblance of organization). We’ll be taking a look at some fine works regarding the habits of the wealthy and how to imitate.

- The Book of Snobs 1848

- One-Upmanship 1951

- The Official Preppy Handbook 1980

Yes. That is chronological order.
Suggestions are welcome.

For the anal-retentive man who has everything, Seven Thousand Words Often Mispronounced: A Complete Hand-Book of Difficulties in English Pronunciation Including an Unusually Large Number of Proper Names and Words and Phrases From Foreign Languages.

Interestingly, it’s dedicated to Edwin Booth, whose accurate and scholarly pronunciation of the English language has been to the American people for over a generation a model of excellence and grace. Edwin is John Wilke’s brother. He was very famous for playing Hamlet. (Polonius. – What do you read, my lord? Hamlet. – Words, words, words.)

So um… horribly exciting. I had some cool stuff about steam engines. But I cannot find them. Five-hundred pages of phonetic spellings did seem awfully Victorian to me, however.

Phyfe, William Henry P. Seven Thousand Words Often Mispronounced. New York and London: G.P. Putnam’s Sons Knickerbocker Press. 1891.

The Parlor Book of Magic is a fascinating volume from 1889. It is divided into two parts.

The first is The Parlor Book of Magic and Drawing-Room Entertainments. This contains really bizarre games of all types. Fully illustrated with similarly bizarre drawings of men in tailcoats and top hats blowing on feathers, imitating animals, pretending to play instruments and doing charades. I think the TV killed this sort of thing.

The second is Parlor Pastimes: Or, the Whole Art of Amusing. By Prof. Raymond. Containing all the latest and best conjuring tricks, magician’s feats, and necromancer’s illusions, of the past and present day. Together with a large collection of the best riddles, conundrums, charades, enigmas, rebuses, transpositions, anagrams, puzzles, paradoxes, acrostics, and problems, ever put together. It includes many dangerous tricks which you would unlikely find in any household book today (ex. melting lead over candles, making fireworks, etc). Also many involving chemical processes I have never seen or heard of.

There are also several hundred riddles, including the earliest printed “Why did the chicken cross the road?” I have yet seen.

Name me, and you destroy me.

(Silence).

And some stupid wordplay.

“Why should all sober people go to rest directly after tea?”

(Because when “t” is gone night is “nigh!” Hahahah…)

“Why is a pig like the letter N?”

(“Because it makes a sty ‘nasty.’”)

What is worse than raining cats and dogs?

‘Hailing cabs and omnibuses.’

You could spend hours perusing it. Unfortunately, I could not tell you where to get a copy. They turn up very occasionally. Probably a pretty sound investment.

http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?_r=1&res=9B0CE6DE163AE532A2575AC0A9679C94689FD7CF&oref=slogin

1889 New York Times article. Apparently Blitz was committed to the Kings County Insane Asylum.

Blitz, Signor. The Parlor Book of Magic. 1889. New York: Hurst and Co.

Ah. The Mixicologist or How to Mix All Kinds of Fancy Drinks: Containing Clear and Reliable Directions for Mixing All the Different Beverages Used in the United States, Embracing Juleps, Cobblers, Cocktails, Punches, Durkees, “Trilbys,” Etc., Etc., in Endless Variety, With Some Recipes on Cooking, and Other General Information.

Where shall I begin with thee? Shall I sing praises of thine tasty and obscure alcoholic beverages, all explained simply for the uneducated layman? Or what of thine ridiculous advertisements for bacon and top-hats?

If I am not mistaken, the first bar guide was written in 1862. The Mixicologist hails from 1884 (though I have the revised edition from 1895). C.F. Lawlor was one dapper dressing gent and a dedicated professional bartender. He wrote, “This book has been prepared for the benefit of those who patronize the best bar-rooms, wine-rooms, and club-rooms, so that they may know what is really good, and when and where they can get it.” He includes recipes for hundreds of drinks (including Abstinthe and variations, and many other mixed drinks I have never heard of), and very good advice on selecting quality liquor. Period advertisements a definite plus.

Keep this one in the bar. Or give it to a bartender as a gift. Or just someone who likes drinking.

I got mine as a Christmas present, but I have not been able to turn up a single original copy. Mine is a paperback and those didn’t tend to last too long. Apparently, this book has been reprinted and will be available on June 10, 2008. So I’m reviewing a book before it’s (re)available to the public.

Lawlor, C.F. The Mixicologist. Cincinnati: Lawlor and Co.  1895

I’ve got some lovely pieces of Victoriana, particularly some smart little how-to books from the era. Some are dated beyond use. Others were awesome and useful back and the day and are still awesome and useful. So yeah. I’ll be bringing some of those out. Then, it’s vacation for three weeks.

While we’re on the subject of vintage photo-journals, might I highly recommend Gramp – A man ages and dies. The extraordinary record of one family’s encounter with the reality of dying.

In 1970, Frank Tugend (b. 1893 d. 1974), an upstanding family man and citizen of Glenburn, PA, began a tragic three-year decline brought about by generalized arteriosclerosis. His memory began to fail. At first, he lost the ability to drive. Then, the ability to remember who and where he was. The once polite man began to hallucinate and became aggressive to visitors. He and his family were ostracized by the community. His behavior was often erratic. Having lost the ability to bathe, dress, and control his bowels, he required constant care.

“On February 11, 1974, Frank Tugend, aged eighty-one and of dubiously sound mind- but certainly of sound body – removed his false teeth and announced he was longer going to eat or drink. Three weeks later to the day, he died.”

His life and death, 1970-1974, were recorded through interviews and hundred of photographs (the Jury family carried cameras and tape recorders the entire time), and condensed into a gorgeous 152 page volume. It is probably one of my favorite books of all time. It tackles difficult and undignified subject matter in a very complete, and often beautiful manner. It is a very emotional volume, to say the least.
Copies are readily available and inexpensive.

Jury, Mark, and Dan Jury. Gramp. New York: Grossman, 1976.