Korean Job Discussion Forums

[M-su]

Anything by Tolkien or edited by Christopher Tolkien.

YEEEAH!

[semi-fly]

1. Animal Farm
2. The Sorrows of Young Werther
3. The Call of the Wild
4. Frankenstein
5. The Jungle
6. The Wind In The Willow
7. Lord of the Flies
8. On The Road
9. Dharma Bums
10. Catcher in the Rye
11. 1984
12. Awakenings
13. Where the Sidewalk Ends - Does a collection of poems count??

[girlcabbie]

Persuasion, by Jane Austin
Ishmael, My Ishmael, and Story of B by Daniel Quinn
Off the Road, by Jack Hitt
the Tony Hillerman books (RIP)
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series
when I was in high school it was the Clan of the Cave Bear series
Archaeology textbooks (yup i know, i'm a nerd)
puzzle books (especially the Japanese number puzzles, except not Sudoku yuck)

[Poemer]

I have greatly respected Jorge Luis Borges since I first read "Ficciones." The English translation of his book "El hacedor" is titled "Dreamtigers" and is an impressive, though slim, volume of prose and verse. I will share here the opening prose poem, The Maker.

He had never dwelled on memory�s delights. Impressions slid over him, vivid but ephemeral. A potter�s vermilion; the heavens laden with stars that were also gods; the moon, from which a lion had fallen; the slick feel of marble beneath slow sensitive fingertips; the taste of wild boar meat, eagerly torn by his white teeth; a Phoenician word; the black shadow a lance casts on yellow sand; the nearness of the sea or of a woman; a heavy wine, its roughness cut by honey�these could fill his soul completely. He knew what terror was, but he also knew anger and rage, and once he had been the first to scale an enemy wall. Eager, curious, casual, with no other law than fulfillment and the immediate indifference that ensues, he walked the varied earth and saw, on one seashore or another, the cities of men and their palaces. In crowded marketplaces or at the foot of a mountain whose uncertain peak might be inhabited by satyrs, he had listened to complicated tales which he accepted, as he accepted reality, without asking whether they were true or false.

Gradually now the beautiful universe was slipping away from him. A stubborn mist erased the outline of his hand, the night was no longer peopled by stars, the earth beneath his feet was unsure. Everything was growing distant and blurred. When he knew he was going blind he cried out; stoic modesty had not yet been invented and Hector could flee with impunity. I will not see again, he felt, either the sky filled with mythical dread, or this face that the years will transform. Over this desperation of his flesh passed days and nights. But one morning he awoke; he looked, no longer alarmed, at the dim things that surrounded him; and inexplicably he sensed, as one recognizes a tune or a voice, that now it was over and he had faced it, with fear but also with joy, hope, and curiosity. Then he descended into his memory, which seemed to him endless, and up from that vertigo he succeeded in bringing forth a forgotten recollection that shone like a coin under the rain, perhaps because he had never looked at it, unless in a dream.

The recollection was like this. Another boy had insulted him and he had run to his father and told him about it. His father let him talk as if he were not listening or did not understand; and he took down from the wall a bronze dagger, beautiful and charged with power, which the boy had secretly coveted. Now he had it in his hands and the surprise of possession obliterated the affront he had suffered. But his father�s voice was saying, �Let someone know you are a man,� and there was a command in his voice. The night blotted out the paths; clutching the dagger, in which he felt the foreboding of a magic power, he descended the rough hillside that surrounded the house and ran to the seashore, dreaming he was Ajax and Perseus and peopling the salty darkness with battles and wounds. The exact taste of that moment was what he was seeking now; the rest did not matter: the insults of the duel, the rude combat, the return home with the bloody blade.

Another memory, in which there was also a night and an imminence of adventure, sprang out of that one. A woman, the first the gods set aside for him, had waited for him in the shadow of a hypogeum, and he had searched for her through the corridors that were like stone nets, along slopes that sank into the shadow. Why did those memories come back to him, and why did they come without bitterness, as a mere foreshadowing of the present?

In grave amazement he understood. In this night too, in this night of his mortal eyes into this he was now descending, love and danger were again waiting. Ares and Aphrodite, for already he divined (already it encircled him) a murmur of glory and hexameters, a murmur of men defending a temple the gods will not save, and of black vessels searching the sea for a beloved isle, the murmur of the Odysseys and Iliads it was his destiny to sing and leave echoing concavely in the memory of man. These things we know, but not those that he felt when he descended into the last shade of all.
--

The last line is important for me "These things we know, but not those that he felt when he descended into the last shade of all." This piece is full of concrete language and imagery, and yet Borges is able to create the feeling of the mysterious that lies just beneath the visceral immediacy of life. The violence and sex are not jarring, they are indeed "impressions that slide over us" and yet they remain powerful, palpable. The poem is full of things we "know" and yet they seem all the more elusive because of their relation to imperfect human perception, longing, frailty, etc.

Borges himself went blind, so this meditation on Homer, another great blind poet, is an interesting moment of one artist communing with another, not on an artistic level, but on a human one.

As I said, Dreamtigers is a thin book, and cheap-- worth picking up and available here in Korea.

[girlcabbie]

I forgot:
Bukowski: War All the Time

[travel zen]

Life and Fate
The Seven Military Classics of Ancient China
Shogun
Assyrian - Nicolas Guild
Stalingrad to Berlin

[DoubleRS]

Hesse is my favorite author, especially Steppenwolf. I'd have to say that book completely changed my life. It gave me true insights to myself. Siddhartha and Demian are also good reads by him.

East of Eden by Steinbeck can't be beat either! TIMSHEL!!! <--I hope one of you atleast get that lol.

[maingman]

Whatthebook.com

[BS.Dos.]

I haven't really read any fiction since I was about 18, but I always enjoyed Steinbeck's Cannery Row and its sequel Sweet Thursday.

[Arthur Dent]

My Name is Asher Lev - Chiam Potok
The Agony and the Ecstasy - Irving Stone
A Soldier of the Great War and Memoir from Ant-Proof Case - Mark Helprin
Old Glory and Hunting Mr. Heartbreak - Jonathan Raban (Travel)
All Paul Theroux travel books
Some of his fiction - especially Milroy the Magician and Hotel Honolulu
On the Black Hill - Bruce Chatwin
A short list of course...

and....
Calvin and Hobbes.....

[Fishead soup]

High Rise JG Ballard

[JBomb]

- All William Gibson Novels
- The Dark is Rising Sequence by Susan Cooper
- JPod, The Gum Thief and Microserfs by Douglas Coupland
- American Psycho
- Morte Darthure
- Anything Neil Stephenson
- Hitchhiker's Guide Series
- The Damned Utd. by David Peace

[rhinosaur]

READ LED ZEPPELIN: HAMMER OF THE GODS!

Just plain awesome! Rockers don't do it like this anymore!!

[Faunaki]

Anything by Farley Mowat.

[maingman]

The Book Of Career Questions

200 + Questions which will change the whole of your working life

Eggert, Max