A Modest Construct

The Wild Things

The Wild Things The Wild Things
by Dave Eggers
Publisher: McSweeney's
Year: 2009
Pages: 300
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№8

Everyone does or should know about Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are, a seminal children’s book that has brought joy to (dare I say?) millions of childrens and adults alike—perhaps even more by adults than by children. It’s a simple story of a naughty young boy who flees to his imagination and back again, but of course much ink has been expended to justify it, parse it, explain it, and praise it, and it’s been built into more of a cultural phenomenon than a book.

Since it was already an opera and a cartoon, it was only a matter of time before it became a movie in 2009. Everyone knew that Spike Jonze (he of Adaption fame, as well as other Charlie Kaufman scripts) directed it, but what I didn’t know until well after the initial spate of movie trailers is that Dave Eggers—the writer, publisher, and philanthropist—had done the screenplay. And it wasn’t until even later that I realized he also did a novelization, which brings us to The Wild Things.

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Snow Crash

Snow Crash Snow Crash
by Neal Stephenson
Publisher: Spectra
Year: 1992/1993
Pages: 480
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№7

My familiarity with Neal Stephenson began with Cryptonomicon, which at the time came much more highly recommended to me than Snow Crash. The former doesn’t quite count as “science fiction”; it was more like a techno-thriller consumed by comp.sci and technological masturbation, with a bit of historical intrigue thrown in for good measure.

Snow Crash, which is really what launched Stephenson’s career (it achieved both critical and commercial success), falls more solidly in the realm of science fiction, but it is a novel which operates on a number of levels. A great deal of verbiage has been produced on behalf of its various subtexts, meanings, influences, and reactions, so I won’t linger too long on any one aspect: further information is there for the taking.

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Perfect Rigor

Perfect Rigor Perfect Rigor
by Masha Gessen
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
Year: 2009
Pages: 256
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№6

I still remember reading for the first time about Grisha Perelman’s solution to the Poincaré Conjecture on Slashdot back in 2004. I knew nothing about the Poincaré Conjecture other than it was famous—one of those big question marks in mathematics like Fermat’s Last Theorem—and therefore big news.

What generated even more press than the solution to the math itself—which, by most journalistic standards, is a dead end—is the fact that the genius behind the proof is a very odd duck indeed. By the time this review is posted, Grigori “Grisha” Perelman has become a near-total recluse at his apartment in St. Petersberg, Russa, which he shares with his mother. He doesn’t talk to anyone—even his old friends—and has claimed to have left the field of mathematics entirely.

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Ender’s Game

Ender's Game Ender's Game
by Orson Scott Card
Publisher: Tor
Year: 1985/1994
Pages: 384
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№5

I was more familiar with Orson Scott Card for his outspoken Mormonism and membership in the National Organization for Marriage—they of the hokey and dishonest “Gathering Storm” commercials—and his views that homosexuality is an artifact of sexual abuse as a child. There are a number of reasons why I could argue why Card is, in fact, kind of a douchebag, but they are (mostly) irrelevant to a discussion of his writing and I’ll eschew them.

Besides, Card would hardly be the first good science fiction writer whose social or political views are either strange or entirely antithetical to my own. Heinlein was a bit of an odd duck, after all, and the man’s canonical. One of my favorites in Dafydd ab Hugh, who’s a proud conservative in just about every way.

The more pertinent question is to what extent—if any—this ideology permeates Card’s writing, and if it makes for a decent book. Ender’s Game, though nowadays marketed to young adults, is a classic piece of science fiction, and manages to make it onto most lists of influential scifi. I’d heard the name for years through various media until I decided that I could no longer avoid reading the damn thing to see what all the fuss was about.

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An Abundance of Katherines

An Abundance of Katherines An Abundance of Katherines
by John Green
Publisher: Speak
Year: 2006/2008
Pages: 272
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№4

Though I’d heard its title bandied about, I probably would never have picked up An Abundance of Katherines under normal circumstances, since its generally labeled as “young adult” fiction, and while I’ve nothing against the genre (some of my favorite books come from my time with it, in fact), it’s no longer the sort of book I spend much time courting anymore. It wasn’t until I saw it being read and recommended by other—also not 9-12 year old—bibliophiles that I decided to see what all the fuss was about.

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Wednesday’s Word LXIII

khaki
n. a dull, yellowish-brown colour, the colour of dust.
n. a strong cloth of wool or cotton, often used for military uniforms, used as a school uniform color.

Khaki is everywhere; if you don’t own a pair of pants in that universal dust color, then you at least own a pair of pants in a different color that you still refer to as “khakis.” Unlike a lot of military fashion, which is still the province of people dumb or crazy enough to wear them when getting groceries (camo pants, etc), khakis are one military export that everyone seems to have accepted into mainstream fashion and culture.

Khaki was a color before it was a pair of pants: The Hindustani ख़ाकी (xākī) and the Persian خاکی (xâki) refer to that which is “dusty, earthy, or earth-colored.” In fact, Hindustani got it from Urdu, which got it from Persian to begin with, khak in Persian meaning “dust.” Its absorption into English occurred in the mid-18th century, after the color was introduced in British soldiers’ uniforms in India; Lieutenant Harry Lumsden “invented” it for the Guide Corps in 1846.

One can’t imagine why else the color would be used except for camouflage is anyone’s guess, but it apparently was not widely used for camouflage by Western wearers until half a century later, during the Boer Wars (1899-1902); these were two short wars fought between Britain and the Boer states (Orange Free State and Transvaal Republic) in Africa. Other sources indicate that the khaki uniform was official as early as 1867, during the Abyssian campaign (when Britain smacked around the crazy King Theodore a bit (the King committed suicide after the British trounced his army). From what I can tell, the color was used officially in campaigns, but didn’t become official service dress until the turn of the century. The United States Army adopted in around this same time for the Spanish American War

The kind of color that “khaki” as a uniform indicated, however, managed to shift as it was adopted by various militaries, most noticeably taking on a much greener hue—what we would now refer to as “olive drab.” Most military uses of the word will refer to any one of a number of more greenish hues, though civilian use still refers to the canonical dust color.

Khakis as referring to a pair of trousers is a relatively recent invention, dating back to the 1950s, when the phenomenon came to civilian fashion. Though of course at first these were necessarily dust-colored, the word has changed over time to refer more to the style of pants rather than the colors; I, for instance, find myself referring to “my black khakis” or even, ridiculously, “my khaki khakis,” which makes me die a little inside.