Mixed Reviews

This is a story of his Jewish family who were at home throughout Russia, Paris and Vienna. Wealthy and cultured, they were friends with Proust and Renoir.  Their magnificent, lavish homes contained precious paintings, furniture, jewels – and netsuke.

De Waal, who is a potter, has a feel for beautiful things – and he is very interested in exactly how the netsuke feel when picked up. This is a story that would appeal to the artist who loves the details of color and design.  It is a story that would appeal to the historian; De Waal’s ancestors who owned the netsuke, starting in the mid-1800s, are brought to life in the settings of the times – first Paris, then Vienna. 

While I appreciate the portrait of the cultural life of different eras, I’m just not interested in the details of so many “things.”  I prefer a book that talks about ideas, makes perceptive observations. This one finally came to life for me about three quarters of the way through, when the Nazis invaded Vienna, and went after the Jews.  De Waal describes the scene in present tense.  His family’s home is invaded by the Gestapo, their beautiful desk thrown out the window, their paintings inventoried and taken away, even the jewels and rings they are wearing are stolen.  They are forced to live in two dark rooms while the Nazis who revile them move into the rest of their family home.  We see the devastation of war that does not take place on the battlefield. 

The second generalization raised by this book is that not only the poor, but the super-rich, will always be with us. I couldn’t help but compare this fabulously wealthy family with those whose stories make the news today.  And this moral question: would I be as sympathetic if certain current homes were invaded and their things appropriated? 

So – a mixed review on this book.  Some interesting perceptions about life in general (if you look), but the main thrust is the luxurious lifestyle lived by this family of collectors for whom valuable netsuke were only a nominal part.

The freon, an environmentally destructive gas, was then destroyed.  Doing so gave them points to sell to large companies looking for environmental offsets. They earned enough to make a profit and do something for the environment.

Sam’s adventures are the story part of After Cooling by Eric Dean Wilson, the full title of which includes On Freon, Global Warming, and the Terrible Cost of Comfort. As often is the case, a story is needed to make scientific information palatable to us nonscientists in the general public.  This book starts with an explanation of how cooling occurs, moves on to what artificial cooling methods have been used in the past, and ends with the large-scale expectation of and availability of air-conditioning both in our homes and automobiles.

This easy accessibility of temperature control arose because of the invention of freon, thought to be a harmless refrigerant. Wilson takes us through the eventual recognition that it was causing changes in the atmosphere and leading to the destruction of ozone, a gas necessary to life on the planet. We learn of the eventual banning of its production although the use or sale of what had already been produced is still allowed.

From his discussion about air-conditioning, Wilson segues into the more serious topic of global warming. He moves from science into philosophy on the causes of the problem and the changes in mindset needed to solve it. He would like us to think about communal health in a world of finite resources.  Do we really want to bequeath rises in seas, burning forests, monstrous winds, and food scarcity to our grandchildren?

I liked this book because of the general discussion about the problems of global warming and some of the specific thoughts about what to do about this very important subject.  I understand that a scientist must provide facts to his peers, but I found them difficult to follow.  I also found the other end, his philosophy, obscure. So – another mixed review – an important work, well researched, thoughtful, but I was glad when I had finished this “good for me” book.

Harriet Vane has been invited to a gaudy, or celebration, at her old college. She re-establishes contact with old friends and a long-lost way of life. But there is trouble. The staff is receiving nasty letters and there has been malicious damage to the buildings. Harriet, a detective fiction writer and assistant to private investigator Peter Wimsey is asked to help. 

The backdrop for the story is a detailed portrait of academic life in an Oxford affiliated women’s college in the 30s.  The subject is whether women should receive an academic education rather than prepare themselves to be housewives.  It is discussed endlessly, from all possible angles.  Can a woman both marry and have a professional life?  If so, which should take precedence?  Is the academic obligated to stay single (and celibate)? This philosophical debate is personified in Harriet and Peter’s love affair.

How pertinent are these questions to a 21^st century reader?  Sadly, almost a hundred years later, they are still relevant, but not enough to make up the majority of the book, or to overtake the question of the destructive “poltergeist.”  Gaudy is interesting for its history of women’s rights in academia, but I will look for a more current writer for my mysteries.

Many popular science magazines are reporting on research published in the Journal of Neuroscience. Bird watching, a complex skill, contributes to neuroplasticity, the ability of the brain to continue to restructure itself and adjust functions even in our senior years.  And like anything else, the more it is exercised, the better the brain can perform.  Learning a new language or playing a musical instrument does a similar thing, but the study on preserving mind function was done on bird watchers.