Monday Book Report: Sir Nigel

Sir Nigel, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Almost all readers know that Arthur Conan Doyle created the immortal Sherlock Holmes, the seminal precursor to all the idiosyncratic detectives which have since become a welcome (mostly) plague upon all our houses and libraries. And those readers more familiar with the creator of the duo of Holmes and Watson are usually aware that Doyle was not entirely enamored of his creation. But few know Doyle also wrote historical fiction, which he always believed was his most outstanding work, and fewer still read those works which shall never be part of ‘the canon’ of Sherlock fans on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. I, myself, only accidentally stumbled upon one of Sir Arthur’s other brilliant protagonists—the dashing and quite clueless Brigadier Gerard—which had been misfiled in the ‘Mystery’ aisle of a used bookstore. But I had never read either of his medieval novels before, and now can well understand why Arthur Conan Doyle thought them his worthiest creations; Sir Nigel is wonderful.

Springing to right and swooping to left, now with its tangled wicked head betwixt its fore-feet, and now pawing eight feet high in the air, with scarlet, furious nostrils and maddened eyes, the yellow horse was a thing of terror and of beauty. But the lithe figure on his back, bending like a reed in the wind to every movement, firm below, pliant above, with calm inexorable face, and eyes which danced and gleamed with the joy of contest, still held its masterful place for all that the fiery heart and the iron muscles of the great beast could do.

A boy and his horse.

Doyle’s novel, written in 1906, is actually a belated prequel to his earlier tale of the XIVth Century, The White Company, written fifteen years earlier. Where the latter book features as hero Sir Nigel Loring as the wise master of many battles and combats, our book Sir Nigel follows the same protagonist from his earliest days upon a failing manor estate in the south of England through his initial successes upon the path of chivalry. It is a delightful picaresque full of incident and interest. The author’s ear for dialogue and description never fail him, and the extensive research he made into the period of the Hundred Years’ War manifests itself upon every page. Best of all, the novel is overfull of that delight for writing and words which Arthur Conan Doyle evinced in those initial stories of the Sherlock Holmes tales (I exempt A Study In Scarlet, which drags).

There he had gone first to the goldsmith and had bought back cup and salver and bracelet, mourning with the merchant over the evil chance that gold and gold-work had for certain reasons which only those in the trade could fully understand gone up in value during the last week, so that already fifty gold pieces had to be paid more than the price which Nigel had received. In vain the faithful Aylward fretted and fumed and muttered a prayer that the day would come when he might feather a shaft in the merchant’s portly paunch. The money had to be paid.

Doyle deigns to indulge in some delightful irony

Of course, the tale is not for everyone. Many will thrown by Doyle’s imperial viewpoint of England and her old nobility, and the English author was definitely a man of his time. No less than Kipling did Sir Arthur support the dominion of the United Kingdom. But of more concern to some readers may be his forthright treatment of violence and the brutality of the age of which he writes. Though knights may be spared for ransom, all lesser combatants would be slain upon the field after battle, as Doyle is at pains to relate. The fierce savagery of the fighting is also honestly told, viewed though it often is through the eyes of young Nigel Loring, who sees in terms of a chivalric vision which was already out of date during the period related here. But the ferocity only serves to underline the splendor of both the prose and the bygone world it tells.

A fearsome sight was Pommers that day, his red eyes rolling, his nostrils gaping, his tawny mane tossing, and his savage teeth gnashing in fury, as he tore and smashed and ground beneath his ramping hoofs all that came before him. Fearsome too was the rider, ice-cool, alert, concentrated of purpose, with heart of fire and muscles of steel. A very angel of battle he seemed as he drove his maddened horse through the thickest of the press

A young man and his horse

I look forward to reading the earlier sequel, The White Company, to learn more of the success of Sir Nigel. The book under consideration is his origin story, and is more of a succession of episodes than any complex plotted tale. (This, in fact, is Doyle’s strong suit, as the success of the Holmes’s short stories over most of the novels (excepting The Hound of the Baskervilles) proves.) As my label of ‘picaresque’ is meant to imply, Nigel at the close is very much the same as Nigel in the beginning. But he is a thrilling and compelling character, full of passion for right and action, bravery and derring-do. Those who enjoyed the tales of King Arthur, or such romances, will find this a wonderful read.

Friday Vocabulary

1. otic — of the ear

Despite the advocates’ claims, ear candles are ineffective and dangerous, and could result in hot wax falling into the otic canal.

 

2. refrangible — capable of being refracted

Though red light was known even in the time of Newton to be the least refrangible of the visible spectrum, not until the Twentieth Century was it understood why this light affected photographic plates least.

 

3. normal — at right angle, perpendicular

Large billboards will be weakest to forces, such as high winds, normal to their surface.

 

4. hematopoietic — of the formation of blood

One of the sicker ideas of fifty years ago was to study hematopoietic diseases through the use of neomorts.

 

5. sarky — [British] sarcastic

He was a sarky character who always had something negative to say about everyone, but was so thin-skinned that the slightest comment about his appearance or attitude could send him home in a pout.

 

6. wideawake — black or brown felt hat with wide brim and lowish crown, Quaker hat

Distracted by Jim’s shabby old wideawake, I only now noticed the fervent almost fanatic eyes of hypnotic blue which stared out at me from beneath the crushed brown felt.

 

7. nichrome — alloy of nickel and chromium

Because of its high electrical resistance, nichrome wire is still commonly used in toasters and hair dryers.

 

8. eremite — anchoret, religious hermit or recluse

Pity the poor modern born to be an eremite but continually bombarded by advertisements and noise and distraction, who—unless wealthy enough to pay for retreats at Sedona or whichever hip ‘spiritual’ vacation spot—may best find peace and quiet in a double-wide parked off the side of a lonely road in southern New Mexico, though even that is getting crowded.

 

9. cenotaph — tomb or sepulchral monument for person whose body lies elsewhere

So beloved was the hero that four cemeteries across the tiny mountain nation boasted a cenotaph to his memory, though of course his body was never recovered after the explosion.

 

10. overmorrow — [archaic] on the day after tomorrow

I am a true procrastinator and will never even plan for tomorrow what might be better done overmorrow.

 

Bonus Vocabulary

(American slang)

spondulics (also spondulix or spondulicks)— spending money

Sure, I looked fine in my new clothes and slick hair, but without spondulics I would not have even a ghost of a chance to woo the lovely Muriel.

600 Books

Just this morning (early in the AM) I finished reading the 600th book since beginning to track such things way back in the middle of 2015. Now you can see, perhaps, just why I was so anxious to get the analysis of the previous hundred books out the door; I knew that the next hundred was almost ready to come out of the oven, so to speak, and I needed the space on the countertops.

Though the vast majority of the past hundred books seems to me to have been genre fiction (this is my impression at the moment, knee-jerk though it is, and subject to revision when I finally get around to an actual review of the data), the book which pushed me over the imaginary marker was a short history text, the most wonderful and excellent précis The Barbarian West: The Early Middle Ages A.D. 400–1000, by J. M. Wallace-Hadrill. This very well-written survey of the sometimes murky period between the final collapse of the imperial power of Rome and the rise of the West is full of insights by a true master of his material. Though not a little of his tight prose is devoted to underlining just how limited must be our absolute conclusions concerning many details of the events he discusses, Mr. Wallace-Hadrill provides an almost breathtaking appraisal of the sweeping movements of peoples, trade, and ideas which cross the Western European stage in near dizzying succession during this turbulent age. Likely as not his ideas have been corrected or at least revised in the nearly seventy years since this book was written (suggestions, anyone?), but it is hard for me to believe that anyone has succeeded in bettering his prose. Top marks.

Now I have to confess that I had been trying to read as fast as possible since completing my last hundred books* back on September 12 of 2020. In fact, I had hoped to read the next hundred books in only a hundred days, which would have been December 21st, but I either could not maintain this pace while also doing a silly NaNoWriMo project or could not constrain myself to read only the shortest and easiest books available—though when I promulgate the full list you shall see that I read plenty of (extremely) quick reads over the past set of books. Today’s milestone means that 112 days have passed since I began the last tranche, which gives a ridiculously fast pace of 1.12 days per book read. Although I am tempted to remind you of the earlier reading pace statistics, I feel as if I’ve done that only a few days ago (which I did), and so I’ll save further details for whatever analysis I end up getting around to about these last hundred books.

   1 Book per 1.12 Days   

One thing I am certain of, however, is that I will not sustain anything like this bookish celerity in the next slice of a hundred books. (Is it peculiar that every time I write “a hundred” some recess of my brain, doubtless affected (in both senses) by too much BBC television, wishes to type “an hundred”?) No, I have decided to forego speed for a more usual reading style, though I am still training one foci of my literary ellipse upon those books which I suspect I may not wish to keep any longer in my library. (One statistic I neglected to mention in my last report was that nearly a quarter of the books read ended up in my ‘To Go Away’ pile; which reminds me, if anyone wants some discards, including some truly wretched so-called ‘self-help’ books, let me know.) The pace I set also meant that I forewent (I joke) my sometime book reviews or rather book reports that I have foisted upon y’all now and then, though I did feel compelled just last week to write that one about the wonderful and the horrible wacko books I read at the end of this set of a hundred. Perhaps I’ll now have both more time and more inclination to tell you a little something about the silly, silly books I still insist on reading all the way through once I pick them from off of my shelves, even if I decide after reading that they shall never darken those shelves again. We shall see.

Until then, and until the full listing of these last hundred books, as well as the analysis of the same, I wish all of you very well. I hope that everyone of you—and many more besides!—will have a very, very good New Year!

*As usual, I exclude those books within my ‘Comics & Graphic Novels’ genre from my calculations.

Friday Vocabulary

1. irenic — non-polemic, pacifying, tending to promote reconciliation

Strangely enough for one of his vociferous views, at the dinner table his presence seemed to have an irenic effect upon the recriminations and attacks of our usual Thanksgiving meals.

 

2. gyp — servant for students at Cambridge and Durham colleges

So here was the great Lord Weddington, M.A. (Cantab.), regaling us with stories of the egregious pranks he and his fellow students had played upon their old gyp, including one rather repulsive tale involving a muddy pair of boots and a pregnant rodent.

 

3. hierophant — expounder of sacred mysteries or esoteric principles

While in ancient Greece only a venerated person of great knowledge could attain the rank, the current ‘see for yourself’ principle of much muddled conspiracy thinking makes of every weirdo with a WiFi the sagest hierophant for the latest revelations of the secret forces behind every seemingly (and actually) prosaic event.

 

4. boustrophedon — moving alternately from right to left and from left to right, as in certain ancient texts and inscriptions

He shuffled boustrophedon through the aisles of the theater, picking up discarded candy wrappers and popcorn boxes left behind by the patrons who so recently had watched the latest retconning of the Star Wars saga.

 

5. eschar — dark crusty dead tissue, as a scab or resulting from a burn

Debridement of eschar may provide relief if the burns result in external pressure.

 

6. dysphemism — derogatory or socially taboo expression

Apparently, calling white trash a bunch of ignorant crackers is now supposed to be some sort of dysphemism.

 

7. supermalagorgeous — [slang] terrific

“Oh, mother! Why can’t you see how supermalagorgeous Johnny is and why do you have to ask where he gets his money from?!?”.

 

8. blain — blister, pustule, inflammatory swelling

The boils and blains which tormented him were nothing compared with the buboes his brother had just barely survived.

 

9. cloche — glass cover placed over plants; bell-shaped cover for plates of food; close-fitting brimmed woman’s hat

The intricately carved Christmas ornament shaped like a dinosaur was displayed beneath a heavy glass cloche, and thus escaped the dust which lay upon every other item in the room.

 

10. rive — to tear apart; to cleave

The sad news rived my heart and left me shaken.

 

Bonus Vocabulary

(fashion)

Hessian boot — knee-high tasseled riding boot

Marley looked beautifully military from his Hessian boots to his glorious ermine-trimmed pelisse, the gold cord on his shoulder mirroring the tassels below his knees.

Analysis: The 5th Hundred Books

Well, I’ve owed y’all some analysis of the last hundred books read for some time now—just over a hundred days, by my count. I can only plead that I’ve been busy with work and stuff, the stuff being a silly NaNoWriMo project, but I have also been reading at a freakishly breakneck pace since I read Book #500, David Caplowitz’s The Poor Pay More (about which you may read slightly more here). So I figure I better knock this analysis post out before I’m telling you I’ve read the next hundred books, eh? [Once again, I do not include those items in the Comics & Graphic Novels category in my book count, though I will include them both in my full list of books read as well as in broken out data points that I will call out in this analysis.]

My reading pace accelerated greatly during this last tranche of a hundred books, moving so rapidly that it took me less than two-and-a-half days to read each book, on average. This was far faster than the pace for the previous hundred, which was just under 3 days per book. This greater than 20% drop in days per book read was associated with fewer pages read overall, by a small (1.15%) amount, though the page rate of 98.85 pages read per day was much, much faster than 80.8 pages read per day during the previous hundred books. An even greater difference—both as a percentage as well in absolute terms—can be seen when comparing the total set of books (including comics and such), as I read 103.21 pages per day during this last set versus a pace of 83.08 during the previous hundred. (For those of you playing the home version of this little math game, I read the last hundred books in 240 days, with a page count for those hundred of 23,725 pages. Including the comics et. al. gives 113 books read in toto during those 240 days, with an aggregate page count of 24,771.)

1 Book Read per 2.49 Days

Such a torrid pace naturally dropped even further the average time per book for the entire set of books read since I began keeping track back in 2015. For both the non-comics and the overall set, the days per book read dropped below 4, the first time the non-comics rate has been so low for the complete set. That low book reading rate dropped to 3.83, with the reading rate for the entire set hitting a new aggregate low of 3.39. Of course, it is unlikely that such a pace can be maintained for long, but we shall see what we shall see. Below is a chart (just like last time) showing the average values for days per book for each of the slices of a hundred books, along with the overall totals. (For those doing all the math at home, the total number of days between the start and Book #500 is 1914 days.)

Average Time to Read a Book

non-Comics All
1st hundred 4.83 3.63
2nd hundred 6.19 5.79
3rd hundred 2.79 2.74
4th hundred 2.97 2.70
5th hundred 2.40 2.12
All 3.83 3.39

I’m still trying to drop my estimated time to completion of my library, which I first started worrying about in this post. At that time I thought I might finish in 2124, on Pearl Harbor Day. Later I crunched the numbers a trifle more fine, and thought I might finish my collection by the year 2108. In that analysis, however, I tried to make allowances for the fact that I was still adding to my collection, and noted that I was buying books faster than I was reading them. Hence the focus on getting my book reading rate as low as possible. We’ll come back to this point later (Hint: COVID-19 restrictions have led to much greater and more frequent sales on online used bookstores. You do the math.) Using the bald attack on the problem, and ignoring the rate of increase to my tiny little collection of books, I have calculated on the back of the envelope, as it were (The actual calculation took much less than the four hours required last time, because in addition to my database of books I have created a spreadsheet with most of the data I need to keep these figures up to date.), I find that I have (or rather had, as I’m writing this with the view of just where I was at at the moment I completed my 500th book, back on September 12 of this year) 8,851 books unread—this is a total figure, and includes the comics excluded from our usual count. Taking the pace of 3.39 days per book read we have just derived above, we can arrive at an EFD (Estimated Finish Date) of … hmm … just a sec … November 7, 2102. So that is only a couple of months more than 82 years—which is a drop from the last calculation of over two-and-a-half years. The date, however, is still in the next century, and I cannot be sure I’ll see this particular century through (or even this decade, if we have many more years like this last one). The specific figures are (for comparison you can see last time’s numbers here):

Reading Rate: 1 Book per 3.39 Days (includes Comics)

Time to Finish Collection: 82 Years and 2 months

Estimated Finish Date (EFD): November 7, 2102

Unfortunately, all of the gains made towards bringing down my Time to Completion seem to have come from the breakneck pace of reading, and are in spite of incontinent book buying. Indeed, during the same time I read 113 books (including the 13 comic books and graphic novels), I seem to have acquired 488 new never-before-read volumes (50 more than during the previous hundred books read). This is obviously troubling, and even more than first appears due to the calculation made in that previous analysis of how long it will take me to read all of my books. There I came around to the following equation, defining how long will take to finish reading my library:

(2.3)    \begin{equation*} t = \frac{b_0}{R - P} \end{equation*}

Formula ${2.3}$ simply says that the time $t$ required to finish reading my library is equal to the initial number of books $b_0$ divided by the net consumption rate of books, which is the Reading Rate $R$ less the Purchase Rate $P$. As I noted in that earlier post, as long as the Reading Rate is greater than the Purchase Rate, I will eventually finish the collection.

Now the last time I looked into this formula, I despaired not only because of the hard reality it revealed to me that I’ll never finish reading my library unless I stopped getting new books, but also because it seemed to involve me in some difficult calculations. So I’m just going to simplify everything this time around, because the one thing we don’t need more of this year is despair, right? So I’m just going to take data from that point in time when I first started tracking my books read. Though I received my book database software as a wonderful birthday present from my wife in 2013, it was not until 2015 that I started tracking the books I was reading. (No, it didn’t take me two years to catalog all my books, though I’ll admit that I had had some in storage still at the time I first got the neato scanner and database package.) Anyway, at the point when I first started noting just what books I’d read, I had 7,373 unique titles in my library. From there, given the data I’ve already mentioned above, it is easy to calculate that—oh, wait, I do have to tell you that I’ve read (or had read at the point that I marked Book #500) a total of 565 books in my library, if we include the comics and their ilk—and further, I have to tell you that, as of the date I read Book #500, I had a total of 9,937 books (excluding duplicates) in my collection. Okay, now it is easy to calculate, as I was saying, that at 500 books read (the non-comics count, natch), $R$ is equal to 0.295 and $P$ is equal to 1.34 books acquired per day, meaning that $t$ is now … -7,055 days, meaning that I should have finished my collection on May 20, 2001.

Okay, that may seem weird, but is actually better than the last time I made this calculation, when I discovered that I should have finished my book collection on April Fool’s Day of 1999. At least I’ve moved up from the Clinton administration to the beginning of the Bush fils years. Basically, this weird and counterintuitive calculation shows that, assuming that my reading and my purchasing paces stay the same, I’ll never finish my library. More will be revealed.

My reading habits during this last hundred books mirror mostly those of the previous. A lot of fiction—mostly Mystery with a fair sprinkling of Science Fiction—and the usual odds and ends of non-fiction books. Now, of course, ‘Nonfiction’ isn’t really a category, unless we want to delineate ‘Lies’ from ‘Truth’, but of course that isn’t ever all that easy to do, especially nowadays. Besides, I like to read a good ‘Wacko’ book now and again, which is my designation for everything to books on mind control and Area 51 to creationism and the 6th and 7th books of Moses, and these surely cannot be all true at the same time. You’ll also see fewer Children’s books in this breakdown, and a concomitant rise in straight up Fiction. But an old Mystery book is a quick read (which was one of my foci in this set of reading) and I also have quite a lot of ’em. As usual, I’ve broken down my reading for your perusal and (one assumes) enjoyment. The full list, including the comics, of books read may be found here. Below you’ll find the breakdown by genre.

Books Read by Genre

Mystery & Thriller 32
Science Fiction & Fantasy 16
Literature & Fiction 13
Children’s Books 8
History 6
Books 5
Other 20

And here is the obligatory chart:

Breaking down the Nonfiction books further (setting aside the Children’s books which always seem relegated into their own peculiar Limbo) give us the following chart:

Nonfiction Breakdown

History 6
Books 5
Poetry, Drama & Criticism 4
Business 3
Health, Mind & Body 3
Wacko 3
Foreign Language 2
Reference 2
D&D 1
Politics & Social Sciences 1
Religion & Spirituality 1

Once more turning to page count analysis, as I did last time and the time before that, I note that though my reading pace increased significantly (as earlier noted), I still see the ‘summer slump’ exhibited in the previous century of books read—although in this case the slump seems to start in March and extends through June. Why this might be I am still unsure, as I do not associate the dates of the slowdown with any noticeable life changes (especially this year those were far and few between and very noticeable (such as my major changes in May and in August)). So I can only assume the slackening in reading pace has more to do with the content than the environment. However, I can think of no easy way to correlate the pages reading rate with the particular books read beyond the gross perusal of the actual books read (Reminder: the full list may be found here.), as I only have the date at which books were read, not an individual reading rate for each volume; that is, some books I took a long time to read, dipping into them occasionally while flying through other novels and the like in a single day. Without tracking daily pages read, or at the very least the date upon which I began reading this or that book (which tiny data point I am still somewhat loath to collect), a gross view of the subject will be all that may be ascertained. To that end, for whatever it may be worth, is a chart showing the cumulative pages read, with a linear trendline which more clearly shows the dip in reading pace during the middle of this reading period.

Taking the first derivative of this data (i.e., casting the data as velocity) yields the following chart:

The overall reading pace for the last hundred books screamed up to 103 pages per day, a huge jump from the 83 pages a day read during the previous hundred.

103.21 Pages Read per Day

Since I read 13 items from the Comics & Graphic Novels category, the above figure drops somewhat when those comics are excluded from the calculation. (I use the total books read for the generally promulgated Pages/Day rate, since the small page count of most comic books is reflected in this stat, whereas it is not in the Days per Book statistic.) Exempting those books gives a slightly lower page per day rate of 98.85 pages per day, which is still much faster than previous records. The lower reading pace for non-comics is shown by the grey line in the figure above.

The page count per book dropped slightly, just over 1%, from last report, from 240 to 237.25 pages per book. If comics are included in this figure, the average becomes 219.2 pages per book (versus 224.3 for this same datapoint from the last series).

Average Book Length: 237.25 Pages

The total number of pages was almost identical to the previous slice, at 24,771, just 96 pages more than the last hundred. With comics etc. removed, we find that 23,725 pages of non-comics were read in this last group, which is 273 fewer than last report. (The average comics etc. page count thus being 80.5 pages per book.)

Total Pages Read (non comics): 23,725

The average rating dropped ever so slightly from that of the previous hundred, falling from 3.79 to 3.76. This was in spite of the fact that I gave a one-star rating for a book for the very first time. (See the worst book ever I read here.) I’m still reading books that I’m thinking of getting rid of, though I still managed to be pleasantly surprised—by the quality of the content, if not by the burgeoning of my shelves. (I also thought of doing some fancy-schmancy weighting of the ratings by taking into account the length of the various books, and then I did! The weighted average rating of (non-comics) turns out to be 3.6 out of 5 stars. So there.)

Average Rating for Books Read: 3.76

But what about the entire set of 500 books? I hear you cry. (I have a more vivid imagination than I give myself credit for.) Though I do want to do some such analysis, I think we’ll just leave that for another day. Okay? Okay. Right now I have to get ready for the next hundred books, and my list of the best books of the year. Hope y’all are all doing well, or at least as well as can be expected. Ta!

Monday Book Report: Wacko of Delight vs. Wacko in a Whiter Shade of Vile

I Read It So You Don’t Have To Dept.

My Opinions: Incest and Illegitimacy, by Alfred Jordan
The Negro and the World Crisis, by Charles Lee Magne

Sincerity is a casualty of this Ironic Age. We now are surprised to contemplate that perhaps some advocate of this or that position actually believes the things he or she is saying. This becomes especially true when the positions maintained are so obviously at variance with such outmoded concepts as ‘truth’ and ‘facts’ that even we supposed moderns must look askance at the contortions and deranged statements that are promulgated nowadays in lieu of reasoned argument. But earnestness has its own suasive power, and the passion of belief communicates itself through hardly noticed, almost unconscious stylistic notes that form potent chords of resonance that defy rationality and move audiences in spite of themselves. Such is much conspiratorial thinking, at least in the beginning, before the devotees of realpolitik get their hands on it and massage the life out of the message so that they can spread it more widely to push forward their own agenda. Or, as they say, the most important thing is Sincerity; once you can fake that you’ve got it made. Thus is nonsense ground by political content mills into ‘actionable intelligence’ for the consumption of the donor classes. Maybe.

And there is a place for unreason in political discourse. What better locale indeed exists for ‘sur-rational’ reasoning than the sphere of legal and governmental thinking, where forensic argument has always had its element of emotional appeal? And this explains, by the way, some of the claims of anti-intellectualism upon the American political psyche, as a purely logical approach is often seen as having no ‘soul’, no verifiable human feeling behind the bare facts and the difficult math. We can accept a typo or two if the plea is heartfelt, and keeps our interest, while a long and tedious argument loses our attention quickly, no matter how well thought out.

Before you reach the end of this reading adventure, there will be things you will be able to figure out for yourself. You may ask yourself, “is this author a candidate for the Funny Farm or should I reassess my beliefs in religion?” After all, when we talk about religion realistically, we are stretching our imagination to its outer limits.

Mr. Jordan finds a missing Talking Heads lyric. And points for the correct use of ‘its’; this isn’t a unique example, but nearly so.

But sincerity isn’t enough, as is proven by the delightful My Opinions: Incest and Illegitimacy, written in almost stream-of-consciousness style by one Alfred Jordan. I read this misguided illogical mishmash of pleading and disorganized attacks upon the story of Christ’s birth on the day after Christmas, and found it a wonderful palliative to the worst aspects of the holiday season. We know from the very first page, the author’s ‘Disclaimer’, that we are in the hands of a master. A febrile if not feeble master, but a master nonetheless.

This book was not written to educate or intimidate, but to ENLIGHTEN. The author of this book is neither liable or responsible to any person or groups with respect to loss of revenue caused by physical or mental damage allegedly caused directly or indirectly by the reading of this book.

So there…

To tell you the premise of Incest and Illegitimacy is to undercut the book completely, to wholly miss the point in the wonderful screed. So let me quickly tell you the premise: Jesus had to have a daddy, so that ‘Virgin Birth’ story doesn’t make sense. Therefore those Christians who kept bothering the author are wrong, and should stop asking him for money. Oh, and the real God is the Sun, the Moon, and your Mommy and Daddy. And thanks to my Gramma.

As I say, putting it baldly like that entirely misses the point, which is that this earnest pamphlet is wonderful, no matter how illogical or poorly written or unstructured or just plain wrong it also is.

I can’t ignore or leave out one of the most important links in the chain of life. It is my opinion dinosaurs have been here since the beginning and they are still with us today, in miniature size. I believe we’ve failed to realize their presence and their potential threat. First, what do you think made the prehistoric animals grow to their tremendous size? To me that’s a simple and academic question. Too much food. My question to skeptics is this: what else makes you grow except food and man made chemicals from earth products? To me, again, that’s very simple: how did these prehistoric grow to their tremendous size? A bountiful harvest of human carcasses. You say that ridiculous, they were like elephants, they didn’t eat meat. That’s a very good answer.

“A bountiful harvest of human carcasses.”

Alfred Jordan lets his enthusiasm get far, far away from him, quite outpacing any theme or sense or meaning that he might be wanting to share. And the results are wonderful. The Church of the Subgenius succeeded because they were able to capture well the glib nonsense of the true believer in the truly ridiculous, but even those pioneers might have difficulty keeping up with Mr. Jordan. Every time it seems he may start to outline or underscore a point he wants to make, he goes tearing off on a tangent and chases after the mad bunnies and crazy squirrels romping through the verdant landscape of his thought, leaving us readers reveling in his self-professed inaptness for the work he is trying to create. He has a large chip on his shoulder about the silly stuff he heard at the Christian church he was made to attend, apparently, and he is simply not having it anymore. His enlightenment began, it seems, when he realized that babies come from sexual reproduction: “As an adult, it became obvious to me that all persons, since the beginning of time, have engaged in SEX.” Setting aside his logical fallacy (while it’s true that all persons in history were the product of sex, it is fallacious to say that all humans engaged in the sexual acts, as a moment’s thought will prove), this realization made him determined not to fall once again for a bogus story, as he had previously been taken in by the stories of Santa Claus and the babies delivered by the Stork. Thus when he puts two and two together, he knew that Jesus was the product of … incest. Okay, what?

If you lived in a household where a female became pregnant, and you have not seen or been aware of any outside courtship and there are related males living in that house, what would your common sense prognosis be? Don’t con me by telling me she had a husband. Please for Jesus’ sake now, pay attention, do I have to repeat myself? Keep this in mind; this is a had none, but got one story. We will go into the virgin’s husband’s role a bit later.
****
Let me summarize this WELL-PLANNED CONSPIRACY. The barn was an ideal place to conceive and discard. It was like a hotel for vagrants. A child was conceived in the barn, we can assume it was known in advance that someone would be in that barn, and the child would be found and cared for and could have even been taken for bounty. These same unfortunate mistakes happen today. Being a realist, I honestly believe my speculations and assumptions are a real possibility.

I’m sure he does honestly believe … something, though it’s not entirely clear what that might be. Oh, and remember that remark about Mary’s husband, as he does come back to it, eventually.

Mr. Jordan doesn’t really get into the ‘Illegitimacy’ part of his title, instead spending pages and pages on how preachers just tell good stories so they can take his money. (And I guess we’ve all been there.) He bounces around like a toddler after his first taste of sugar, making connections that don’t exist while always mentioning that he doesn’t wish to cause offense, and that he has no special training in theology or science or indeed anything at all which might enable him to draw the conclusions he makes. (See the dinosaurs quote above.) But I really cannot capture the awesome wonder and glory which shines throughout this little booklet. Every page has its morsel of ungrammatical joyous nonsense. A few quotes here can only give the barest taste of the delicious buffoonery within these pages. Perhaps the crazy factor might be greater in English As She Is Spoke (though maybe not), but for sheer mad sincerity Alfred Jordan has no equal.

I know you have followed our out of this world flyers exploits over the years. Some of our flyers have been as close to the Christians God as you can possibly get and still be alive. Now, that statement is part of the Christian belief. God is in heaven and they regard the sky as being the heavens. I want to establish that fact before I express my opinion. Now this is my speculated opinion which you can answer now or later; it is complicated, “if our high fliers were that close to the Christian God and had this close insight of the heavens personally, why when most ended their high flying careers they excepted regular employment and without supporting the Christian doctrine about God being up there? Don’t these people know they were the close encounters of the third kind nonfictional. Before press time there were no answers.

Mr. Jordan is speaking of astronauts. Oh, and [sic], of course, here and everywhere else.

At the very end of this screed, the author seems to confess that he didn’t really think about Joseph’s role in the whole birth of Jesus story until someone pointed out the Mary had had a husband (perhaps this is why he leaves out the ‘Illegitimacy’ charge): “For that minute, it dawned on me, that all of my efforts was for nought.” Do not worry; he manages to pick himself right back up and start attacking everything with how it does not make sense, nuh-unhn. It’s pretty typical of his approach, which is to go in five directions at once, forget what he was talking about, and then return to something completely different, such as his very different concept of God in four persons, or maybe two, plus the planets, or the Sun, or, well, if you manage to get your hands on a copy of this delightful book, you’ll see.

Hear me now, if you don’t understand what I’m saying and won’t accept it as being the truth and a fact, you have my permission to call me an idiot and a atheist, and thank you for your time. I asked you earlier to hold my coat. I’m pleading with you now, GIVE ME MY DAMN COAT, I am out of here.

I confess I don’t understand and won’t accept, but I kind of like the guy. He’s cute, and at least slightly self-deprecating.

And you really should see. At the very close of his book, Arthur Jordan makes a prophecy, saying: “Betcha read this book more than once.” I’m sure this prediction will come true, at least in my case. This scatterbrained hodgepodge of unreason left me laughing and enthused, as the Littlest Atheist makes merry with Mary and the whole Christmas story … or something like that.

Quite a different beast is The Negro and the World Crisis, a vicious bit of racist thuggery masquerading as a religious tract. There is no pleasure to be found reading this amalgam of Biblical eisegesis with every common conspiracy idea and hateful thought that you might think we fought WWII to stop, though apparently memories are short. This book, first published in 1970 (only a generation after the defeat of the Nazis), not only makes its bilious and wrongheaded case for the superiority of the white Aryan race—here called the White Nordic Israel Race or the White Adamic People—but also frames its bigotry in the usual antisemitic Jewish Conspiracy theory which is apparently the first refuge of scoundrels. Along the way it makes hash of not only accepted Biblical scholarship and study, but also of all the principles of rational debate; but that’s only par for the course for much conspiratorial thinking.

There is a world of difference between this vile incitement to race war and the wonderfully scatterbrained My Opinions. Though both fall into many of the same traps of fuzzy thinking that make conspiracy theories appealing to both promulgators and those appealed to, the author (I assume that ‘Charles Lee Magne’ is a pseudonym [= ‘Charlemagne’]; no author was listed on the original publication) of The Negro and the World Crisis never for a moment forgets his thesis: that the Negro is an inferior race which is being exploited by evil Jews to foment the destruction of White Christian civilization and usher in the reign of the Antichrist.

Negroes are being manicured and cultivated by the hidden cabala for use as the trigger men to initiate a bloodbath in this country just prior to the establishment and enshrinement of the anti-Christ dictatorship. The exploitation of millions of American Negroes as the front men in the battle of the Ages is but one of many arms of this revolutionary movement that reaches out to control every dimension of our lives as free men today.

Half of the premise of the book, and perhaps one of the least offensive passages. And of course, [sic] and all that, with the misuse of ‘cabala’ just so you don’t miss the point about the Jews.

Unlike My Opinions: Incest and Illegitimacy, which I could have almost quoted in its entirety, I don’t wish to give too many extracts of The Negro and the World Crisis. It is thuggish, it is wrongheaded, it uses fallacious argument, it misquotes Scripture, it twists facts—but so do many screeds that I find much less objectionable. But The World Crisis is suffused with a hate that I have to confess I am at a loss to comprehend. Though the term ‘racism’ is thrown about almost everywhere these days, it is rare indeed (which is a good thing, I think) that one comes across racial hatred in its pure form. And though this counterfeit religious tract purports not to hate the Negro, every word in this booklet goes to underscore the author’s belief in the eternal inferiority of the Blacks. How inferior? Over half of this tract is devoted to ‘proving’ that Blacks aren’t even human at all, but are merely “the head of the animal kingdom of anthropoid apes”. Blacks are merely the apex animal, created by God in this misbegotten interpretation as servants to the White Christian race. And so we are right back to the 1850s, a hundred years after the Civil War seemed to settle this question once and for all.

The conclusion of the tract is that the Blacks need to all be sent back to Africa, that they will rise up and murder the Whites in America otherwise, that the 14th Amendment was illegally enacted, that Negroes simply don’t have the capacity to reason like—egads, it really is not worth delimiting this nonsense. Briefly, this jeremiad comes from what is usually called an ‘identity’ church, those outfits which tend to see the so-called ‘White’ race as being the true descendants of Israel, and thus every other little thing you learned in Sunday School has to be rewritten. Like what? Oh, like that old thing about the sons of Noah—Shem, Ham, and Japeth—being the fathers of all the various races. (Even Ethel Waters references the ‘curse of Ham’ in her song “Black and Blue”.) Or the idea that the Garden of Eden was somewhere around the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers; our author places it in the Himalayas. Or the doctrine that the entire earth was inundated during the Flood. (Only a smaller region between mountains, next to the Himalayan Garden of Eden, was actually flooded.) Now, setting aside how plausible or true the Biblical stories are, what was the point of Noah gathering up all the animals if the whole earth wasn’t going to be drowned? But I digress. To achieve these miracles of ‘interpretation’, the author has to appeal to a specialized ‘translation’ of the Bible, that of Farrar Fenton, who … just happens to have been a British Israelite.

And what of the original Israelites? You know, the ones who actually wrote the books now called The Old Testament by Christians today? Well, they are relegated to their own not-quite-human status by this author, being descendants of all the nations (except for the Hebrews) mentioned in the Old Testament, as well as “mongrels with the Satanic blood line of other races”. The peoples of Asia get short shrift and almost no mention, save to quote an ancient Chinese Flood narrative in support of his own reinterpretation of Noah.

But the main thing—the only thing—in this book is the identification of all Blacks with animals, beneath contempt and certainly beneath the high civilization of the White man. Indeed, the eisegetical portion of this pamphlet states baldly that in the Bible most mentions of ‘the Beast’ or ‘the Beast of the field’ are specifically talking about the Negro. Once you accept that argument, it is only a small hop to wholesale credence in the very worst of racist theories, such as the notion that Blacks were treated better by their slave masters in the antebellum South than the living standards they have today. (Which lie the author baldly states as ‘fact’.) Or that Blacks are about to rise up and invade the suburbs and kill all the Whites. The book ends with a plea for the reader to prepare for:

the coming day when millions of militant Negroes will move from the inner city ghetto to plunder, rape, kill, and pillage the suburbs and outer city fringe areas of every major American city. Each day now brings us closer to that moment when millions of savage, blood thirsty Negroes will turn belching guns upon White America.

This is by no means the most hateful part of the concluding rant, though even typing this makes me somewhat sick.

So … Why Do I Read These Books?

Well, I usually enjoy reading conspiracy literature and apocalyptic religious tracts; I find them entertaining in their pigheaded appeals to logic and their quite unconscious biases, as well as their pretense of academic rigor. Usually the latter involves plenty of footnotes or citations (as in Great Hoax of the Twentieth Century, *shudder*), or straw man arguments such as the attacks upon the Hamatic and the ‘Cain was Black’ theories by ‘Charles Lee Magne’. And I am sure I take pleasure in my own imagined sense of superiority when I can notice this or that fallacious reasoning, as when I read in The World Crisis a quote from the U.S. Census director that they had underestimated the Negro population by 10%, and then the author claims that this means that Blacks make up 20% of the U.S. population rather than the 10-12% figure usually given.

But there comes a point, as in that South Park episode when Token watches the video tape, when it’s just not fun any more. And though even then I can often find some interest in watching just how dishonest authors craft their insidious arguments (as in the Butz Holocaust revisionist book mentioned last paragraph), I have to admit that The Negro and the World Crisis not only left a bad taste of bile, feces, and gangrene, but that it also made me very sad, that less than two score years after Hitler’s defeat such racist twaddle could be espoused not only under color of the Bible but also beneath the mantle of the Founders and Heroes of the United States. Don’t get me wrong, the issue of race and how our leaders looked (and look) at the place of Blacks in America is fraught, and often nuance is not the right approach at all. But the combination of blatant hatred of Blacks with the hoary Jewish World Conspiracy theory was deeply disheartening, especially when wrapped up in the Aryan myth that has proven so apocalyptically destructive already.

So why read such bilge at all? First of all, I am omnivorous and catholic in my reading, and it’s not as if I don’t have other hateful or racist or just plain wrong books or tracts in my library. From “The SCUM Manifesto”, that of the Unabomber, to The Turner Diaries, I have not excluded on prima facie grounds many things from my reading list. Secondly, I believe in the principle of ‘Know Your Enemy’, as well as the (related, I think) ideal of ‘Know Thyself’. By reading viewpoints with which I disagree, I not only familiarize myself with their arguments and thus can arm myself against them, I also learn to identify logical flaws in such—which has the additional advantage, perhaps, of permitting me to recognize when I am engaging in the very same self-serving unreason.

But it is true that this last racist screed was almost too much even for my jaded sensibilities. I almost did not include the cover image of the hateful Negro and the World Crisis rant in my ‘book report’, so obviously offensive is it. However, it demonstrates not only the viciousness but also the insincerity of our nasty publisher. The title purports to give the reader insight into a thorny issue of the day, while the pictures of the smiling Blacks on the cover have obviously been chosen to appeal to or to suggest a belief in the inferiority of Negroes. (By the way, the original cover of this work featured only a drawing of an angel with a long horn standing upon the United States.) How different from the earnest addlepated writing of My Opinions and its honestly bad cover design is this virulent attack upon an enormous portion of the human race. We have to ask ourselves in the case of The World Crisis whether the author believes all, most, or any of the terrible things he is saying.

Original cover

Reading The Negro and the World Crisis may give a present-day reader a sense of déjà vu. The appeals to incipient rioting in the cities, to a predicted attack of the suburbs by angry or armed socialists or tools of the communists may be from either 1970 or 2020. Reading this vile rant makes me sad, as I said, sad to see how little we learned not only from Vietnam, but from World War II, from the Civil War, from every single lesson which history seems to have given us. Reading this rancid turd from a racist cloaca (my edition purports to be published by the New Crusade Christian Church in Hollywood, founded by a one-time bigwig in the American Nazi Party), reveals just how close to the most gangrenous prejudice is much modern coding of racist ideas. The fear of blacks ‘invading’ the suburbs (many already live there, and have for at least as long as I lived there), the appeals to our ‘exceptionalism’, and the no longer overtly stated paranoia against miscegenation and mongrelization are not found only in this screwed up tract of hate.

I am glad that I read My Opinions: Incest and Illegitimacy first; its wondrous illogic gave me strength to endure the other book. I will undoubtedly re-read Mr. Jordan’s nonsense again, and am sure I will enjoy it wholeheartedly. I doubt very much I shall reread The Negro and the World Crisis, and fear that its putrid taste will linger for quite a while. I can only hope that reading its inhumane words will help me to notice the same stench in modern arguments when the same unreasoned appeals to hatred are made, as they will be, again.

Those who hate Christianity (I’m sorry here, I’m putting words in their mouths; they might only say that they “don’t care for it”) may point to the hatred engendered throughout history by the Catholic and other Christian Churches, as well as the wars religion has always seemed to foster. I shall decline to point out that the largest mass murders of the Twentieth Century were either in the name of atheistic principles (such as those directed by Stalin or Mao) or were attacks upon religious people. I shall only say that I have known many fine Christians as well as many fine atheists (Are we capitalizing that yet?), and religion or the lack thereof is not the enemy; inhumanity is what we must always be on guard against, both in the world at large as well as within our own hearts.

Friday Vocabulary

1. refection — the partaking of refreshment

I did not want to interrupt their family refection, so I merely took the warm apple pie from the windowsill and hurried off to the nearby woods to enjoy my own repast.

 

2. brast — [archaic] past participle of “burst”

Though he strove mightily against his foes until his heart fain would brast, their numbers eventually overwhelmed the doughty knight.

 

3. magniloquent — lofty or grandiose in expression; pompous; bombastic

“So you see before you a man battered by fate, but not a whit cowed by these dark experiences,” he said in his habitual magniloquent style.

 

4. ruth — compassion, pity

I bless the ruth I found at this house in my hour of need.

 

5. linnet — European songbird of the finch family

It dawned upon us that this debris was all that remained of the linnet‘s nest, and just then we heard the bird’s sweet song, as if to reassure us that all was well, that only twigs had been damaged.

 

6. betimes — early

Better you should discover betimes that not all claims of friendship are true than to learn too late the dangers of a gullible trust.

 

7. vicinage — neighborhood, vicinity

It is from the defendant’s vicinage that the jury must be called.

 

8. slavey — servant, often a hard-worked serving girl

On the one hand, no more does one see a slavey carrying coals to stoke the heater in great homes hour after hour; on the other hand, fewer jobs.

 

9. swank — to swagger, to make pretense of superiority

He came swanking in wearing leather ankle boots and bell-bottomed zebra print pants, smiling outrageously behind the huge purple lenses he affected.

 

10. chiliasm — belief in the prophesied reign of Christ on earth for a thousand years

Chiliasm differs from other strains of millenarianism in its focus on the worldly realm of the Messiah.

 

Friday Vocabulary

1. telex — teletypewriter service using public communication channels to deliver two-way text transmission between subscribers

Though the public telex offices were jammed with expatriates attempting to send the startling news to interested parties back home, the government ensured that none of those messages made it to their intended recipients, censoring all mention of the strange and ludicrous end of the prince and his hunting party.

 

2. assart — to root up trees and bushes from land for cultivation

Sir Rilchiam was granted use of the wood by the church, with the provision that should the land be assarted, a tithe of its produce would be given to the church each year.

 

3. canaille — vulgar populace, rabble

On the other side of the parked busses the streets became more and more packed with the canaille of the city and others imported for the protests, accompanied by the usual gaggle of reporters and presumed bloggers and mere excitement tourists, all hurtling themselves forward toward the thick line of olive drab and black clad police of a dozen or more agencies, resplendent in their flak jackets, helmets, and face shields.

 

4. pentice — shed with sloping roof, such a roof projecting from side of a building, penthouse

The side door was protected from the rain by a ramshackle pentice of pine and scrap lumber.

 

5. urticant — producing stinging or itching sensations

Even a purely psychological approach, such as talk of small insects (especially when accompanied by scratching motions), can produce an urticant effect.

 

6. estoppel — judicial limitation on a party from making a claim or statement at odds with a previous position

Though in law a man may be forbidden by the principle of estoppel from asserting as fact something directly contradictory to his previous claim, apparently in politics this principle does not apply.

 

7. squinch — scuncheon; structure placed across corner of interior walls to hold up some superstructure

“Be careful as you make your measurements of the inner tower walls; I’ve heard tell of a Lord killed by a falling squinch.”

 

8. circumflittergate — to move around and around quickly in a purposeless and random manner

Harold was completely overmatched by his charges in his role as substitute Sunday school teacher, and the parents found him haplessly plopped down on the floor while the five-year-old boys and girls circumflittergated about him with construction paper and white glue and glitter and crayons and all the other impedimenta of the classroom.

 

9. cretonne — heavy printed cloth often used in upholstery

Perhaps once the wicker chairs with their cretonne covers had evoked elegance and relaxation, but not the mildewed and rotting seats only underlined the sad decay of the entire house.

 

10. jink — to move jerkily; to elude

The wise pilot keeps his eyes on the enemy’s rudder, knowing that any lack of attention will allow his target to jink away from the pursuit, and even to become the pursuer.

 

Friday Vocabulary

1. waler — light Australian breed of riding horse, originally bred in New South Wales

Only one of the more than one hundred thousand walers brought overseas by the Australian calvary in World War One ever returned home.

 

2. rodomontade — vainglorious boast, extravagantly bragging speech

In the midst of his vicious rodomontade a hunched old crone started to beat him about the shoulders with her purse, causing the puissant party leader to shrink away, crying out in a whining tone, “Stop it, Mom!”

 

3. mercer — textiles dealer

Hiram was surprised that the silk mercer supported the planned expansion of the cotton mill.

 

4. etymon — primary word or word form from which other words or forms are derived

Although Joel Roberts Poinsett was a strong leader of the U.S. cause not only in South Carolina and in South American, he is most remembered only in his role as the etymon for the poinsettia seen commonly throughout the Christmas season.

 

5. filé — powdered leaves of sassafras

Some prefer a roux, others like okra, but give me gumbo made with filé and I’ll be happy.

 

6. puce — dark brownish purple

The head wound had left his brown locks with puce highlights.

 

7. instantiation — representative instance of a more general pattern, algorithm, or concept

No, it won’t do you any good to remember that a triangle having sides of length 3,4, and 5 is a right triangle, as that is only one instantiation (and a rare integral one at that) of the more general Pythagorean theorem.

 

8. customary — consuetudinary, customal, custumal, written account of local customs or usages of a manor or region

The crabbed writing in the ancient customary gave strong support for the monastery’s claim to ownership of the well and the lands surrounding it.

 

9. cockchafer — doodlebug, large brown European beetle

“How can I write with those annoying cockchafers crashing into the window in my study every five minutes?!?”

 

10. stipendiary — person receiving regular pay for services

Though it was often bruited about that Mr. Laventer was a stipendiary of one foreign country or another, this accusation of near treason never interfered with his attendance at all the best parties in the capital.

 

Friday Vocabulary

1. crocket — hook-shaped medieval ornament suggesting a leaf

The wind-flung veil had caught on one of the crockets that lined the steeple of the small village church, which some took as an ill omen for Susan’s decision to leave the convent.

 

2. egest — to expel from within the body

His plan had been to egest the small latex pouches of white powder after he had crossed the border, but one of the bags broke, and he died.

 

3. salpingectomy — removal of the Fallopian tube

In 1927, the Buck v. Bell decision of the Supreme Court led to forced vasectomies and salpingectomies for tens of thousands of men and women deemed ‘feebleminded’.

 

4. methyphobia — fear of alcohol or of drinking or drinkers of alcohol

Perhaps the disaster of his stepfather triggered an abiding methyphobia, but Gerald was so uncomfortable around liquor that he could not even dine in a restaurant where alcohol was served, severely limiting his choices on date night.

 

5. furfur — dandruff, scurf

The solemn effect of his sedate black tunic was somewhat undercut by the mass of bran-colored furfures which lay in scaly piles upon his shoulders.

 

6. plenilune — time of the full moon; the full moon

The silver and sable landscape beneath the plenilune seemed less witching than wild and romantic to Devon as he strode down the path with a hopeful heart.

 

7. nares — the nostrils

Jackson’s face was dominated entirely by his nose, the nares of which seemed like two huge black pits sunk in the middle of his visage like the snout of a boar.

 

8. grisaille — painting in gray monochrome, often to represent sculpture

Her frozen repose in the darkened room seemed a grisaille of grief lightened only by a single orange chrysanthemum which lay atop the piano near the curtained window.

 

9. certes — certainly, in truth, assuredly

Your love has conquered most, if not all, of the obstacles between you and the fair Melissa, and certes you will not shrink now from this final test.

 

10. miosis — excessive contraction of the pupil

I grabbed Honus by the shoulders and forced him to look at me, and his clammy pallor and miosis told me that he was back on the junk again.

 

Bonus Vocabulary

(Latin)

nil admirari — “to wonder at nothing”

He affected the nil admirari attitude of bohemians the world over, that hipper-than-thou insouciance that demonstrated that he had seen it all, even as he sought new wonders and revelatory experiences in this mundane plane of existence.