Skip to main content

Before it goes to the library

 




One of my Christmas gifts this year was SHE AND ALLAN, a late-life novel by the classic fantasy-adventure writer, H. Rider Haggard, first published in 1921. 

The problem (and I only confide this because I am confident that the friend who gifted this volume to me doesn't read blogs!), is that I no longer read this sort of book. There was a time in my life when I would have found it delightful. Haggard has a wonderfully vigorous way of telling a story and his imagination stands up in comparison with Tolkien's. Haggard's imagination didn't lead him to world-creation on the Tolkienesque level -- his stories were set in Africa amidst the scrambling of rival empires, and in one classic case he set a tale in Tibet -- but it did lead him to marvels. His character, Allan Quartermain, became the inspiration for Spielberg's "Indiana Jones," and Allan is of course one of the two title characters of this novel, which presumably brings Allan together with the mysterious Queen Ayesha, known chiefly by the titular pronoun. At any rate, for me Haggard represents a spent phase. Not unlike watching Indiana Jones movies. I look back on it fondly, but it is still a looking back. 

The destiny of this book: I will make a gift of it to a library or used book store, and hope that someone else discovers and enjoys it. 

If anyone reading this blog entry thinks that a horrid idea and wants to rescue this book, in the manner that Quartermain might rescue a damsel in distress, [and no, "She" was never a d-in-d!) placing SHE AND ALLAN comfortably in the splendor of your private library, let me know. I'll hang on to it for a couple of months.   


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Story About Coleridge

This is a quote from a memoir by Dorothy Wordsworth, reflecting on a trip she took with two famous poets, her brother, William Wordsworth, and their similarly gifted companion, Samuel Taylor Coleridge.   We sat upon a bench, placed for the sake of one of these views, whence we looked down upon the waterfall, and over the open country ... A lady and gentleman, more expeditious tourists than ourselves, came to the spot; they left us at the seat, and we found them again at another station above the Falls. Coleridge, who is always good-natured enough to enter into conversation with anybody whom he meets in his way, began to talk with the gentleman, who observed that it was a majestic waterfall. Coleridge was delighted with the accuracy of the epithet, particularly as he had been settling in his own mind the precise meaning of the words grand, majestic, sublime, etc., and had discussed the subject with William at some length the day before. “Yes, sir,” says Coleridge, “it is a majesti

Five Lessons from the Allegory of the Cave

  Please correct me if there are others. But it seems to be there are five lessons the reader is meant to draw from the story about the cave.   First, Plato  is working to devalue what we would call empiricism. He is saying that keeping track of the shadows on the cave wall, trying to make sense of what you see there, will NOT get you to wisdom. Second, Plato is contending that reality comes in levels. The shadows on the wall are illusions. The solid objects being passed around behind my back are more real than their shadows are. BUT … the world outside the the cave is more real than that — and the sun by which that world is illuminated is the top of the hierarchy. So there isn’t a binary choice of real/unreal. There are levels. Third, he equates realness with knowability.  I  only have opinions about the shadows. Could I turn around, I could have at least the glimmerings of knowledge. Could I get outside the cave, I would really Know. Fourth, the parable assigns a task to philosophers

Searle: The Chinese Room

John Searle has become the object of accusations of improper conduct. These accusations even have some people in the world of academic philosophy saying that instructors in that world should try to avoid teaching Searle's views. That is an odd contention, and has given rise to heated exchanges in certain corners of the blogosphere.  At Leiter Reports, I encountered a comment from someone describing himself as "grad student drop out." GSDO said: " This is a side question (and not at all an attempt to answer the question BL posed): How important is John Searle's work? Are people still working on speech act theory or is that just another dead end in the history of 20th century philosophy? My impression is that his reputation is somewhat inflated from all of his speaking engagements and NYRoB reviews. The Chinese room argument is a classic, but is there much more to his work than that?" I took it upon myself to answer that on LR. But here I'll tak