Book Review: The Swerve: How the World Became Modern [2011]

In a remote European monastery in 1417, an Italian book-hunter named Poggio Bracciolini unearthed a rare manuscript from Roman times. It was a ninth-century copy of a much older work, De Rerum Natura ("On The Nature of Things") by the poet Lucretius (c. 99-50 BCE). Stephen Greenblatt uses this rediscovery as a springboard to explore the history of human inquiry over two thousand years. This is not a modest undertaking, but Greenblatt moves with ease from the personal details of Bracciolini's experience as an Italian humanist and apostolic secretary to larger set pieces such as the destruction of Alexandria's written treasures and the excavation of Herculaneum, entombed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

De Rerum Natura contains many deeply polarizing ideas, some of which are still contentious today--for example, the notion that the soul dies with the body and there is no afterlife, or the assertion that the pursuit of pleasure should be humankind's guiding principle. Greenblatt demonstrates that these ideas (along with more scientific but no less inflammatory concepts such as the existence of atoms and the idea that the universe was not centered on humanity) were not unprecedented, but grew out of the teachings of Epicurus, of whom Lucretius was a disciple. These concepts might be unsettling to our culture--still largely guided by precepts of self-denial, even if we do not adhere to them--but they were nothing short of incendiary upon their reintroduction into a Renaissance society dominated by the Catholic church. Many who embraced them after Bracciolini's discovery were persecuted as heretics.

Greenblatt leads a fascinating journey of discovery, tracing a set of ideas from antiquity to Thomas Jefferson.

Grade: A

I came to the conclusion that I was an atheist on my own, without consulting learned texts or reading up on the subject. I had some conversations with friends about faith, and was raised in a very faith-conscious place (Utah) even though my parents were not actively religious in any way. My mother had a very personal relationship with spirituality, which I never shared, and died as a Buddhist. But while listening to this book, the concepts being discussed spoke to some deep part of me, saying "You are not alone. Other people have come to these conclusions before you." It's not as if being an atheist is exactly embraced here and now in American culture. I can only imagine living in a time where thinking these thoughts, let alone voicing them, might lead to death. What a lifeline Lucretius's work must have represented to those who were almost completely isolated in their beliefs.

Random Thoughts:

I listened to the book's audio version, and (to my untrained ear) the narrator Edoardo Ballerini did a fantastic job of all those tongue-twisting Italian names.

This book was an excellent way to warm up to my 2012: Year of Nonfiction challenge, in which I am going to try to read as much nonfiction as fiction. I will talk more about it when I post about the statistics of my 2011 year in reading.

ETA: My paper copy finally came in, and it was worth it (as usual) to take a look at it even though I listened to the audio version. It has glossy photographs! And many pages of notes and bibliography at the back! And it has an index (*swoon*).

Dead Mother: No
Book Review Index

Helga Recommends: Paper Books

This is not going to be a curmudgeonly anti-ebook rant, because electronic books certainly have their (growing) place in the world, and I have and will continue to make use of them. If your object is simply to read and not to own a book, either format will do, and an ebook will often end up being more convenient. But when it comes to investing in pieces of intellectual and cultural capital, physical books have any number of advantages over their electronic counterparts:

• Batteries. During the recent power outage in the northeast, I was able to read by candlelight even when I was trying desperately to conserve the remaining power on my various devices. I do not have to have my computer turned on in order to look up a word origin or the history of Norway. In the coming global superpocalypse, I'll still be able to read via the ray of sunshine coming through the bunker airholes, whether or not I have a charge or a signal. (Note to self: Pack Apocalypse Books)
  
• Possession. Once I have it in my hot little hands, a book is mine and no one can relieve me of it unless they break into my house and figure out my shelving system. What Amazon and Barnes and Noble give, they have the power to take away. That being said, a house fire would take out both my paper books and all of my electronics. (Note to self: Pack Apocalypse Books in Fireproof Box)
  
• Longevity. I can sit down with my son and read books that were read to me as a child. Yes, the same books. Technology is not yet to the point where he will be able to say to his children "this is the ebook that grandma used to read to me when I was little--we can't read it because that file format is obsolete, but there it is on my ancient backup drive." I also have many of my mother's books, including her Regency romance novels, and reading them gives me the feeling of being close to her.
  
• Marginalia. In college, developed a complex system of symbols and notes that enabled me to very quickly find relevant pages in the books I had read and, of course, amuse myself with my own witty commentary. Physical books can be marked, tabbed, folded, inscribed, and lent to others who may add their additional commentary. If necessary, they can be thrown across a room in a fit of pique. Someday, ebooks may catch up on this front, but they're not quite there yet.
  
• Sharing. I'm sure that it's possible to give the gift of an ebook. One might even be able to e-write some nice sentiment in the front before emailing it to one's friend or relative. But the paper book has a physical presence that says "pay attention to me, the person who gave me thinks I'm important." A physical book can be shared with others, it can be re-gifted, it can be sold to a used bookstore, it can be donated to the library, it can be used to prop up a wobbly table, it can be turned into a purse. The afterlife of paper books is full of possibilities.
  
• Price. Bear with me on this one. Ebooks are, in general, less expensive than their newly published counterparts. However, they aren't less expensive enough to make the investment worthwhile, given their instability . . . once purchased, they should be backed up (especially if Amazon moves farther from "sales" to "licensing" and begins removing content again). If the purchaser wants to keep the material for a longer period of time, ebooks will have to be transferred from device to device. The common format today will no doubt be superseded by future formats, which may not be compatible, and so on . . . $1.99 is the maximum price I put on this hassle. If it disappears from my computer, I haven't spent enough to be driven to tears by it. I will bend this rule to get a book by a favorite author that I absolutely couldn't get in any other format without selling a minor body part, as I have to purchase older novellas by Connie Willis.
  
• Proximity. When I think about paper books, I think about my collection as a whole. How I have ordered it and re-ordered it. How I can glance at a shelf and pull down a book to see my notes or read a particular passage. How I can easily see a stack of books (or five) I have yet to read, although I have the most sincere intentions toward them. A lot of people find their next read by browsing, and I like to spend time browsing my own shelves until something catches my attention.

I have not purchased as many books since I became a librarian--with so many enticing books paraded before me every day--so the books I do buy tend to have special meaning. Book ownership is, for me, rooted in a feeling of place. Books = home. My family home was decorated with books, therefore I feel better when my walls are covered with books. As a child I saved up my allowance money to buy books that I still own today. I have books my grandmother gave me when I was a child; I have many of my mother's books; I have multiple copies of some books (different editions or duplicates); I have some of my father's books; and I have books that belonged to a grandfather who died several years before I was born. A large part of my history can be pieced together by reading their spines, and I am passing down that history to my son as we read together. The other day we were reading The Monster at the End of this Book; "Please do not turn the page!" doesn't really work in a digital format.*

Feel free to argue with me or provide additional support in the comments.


*There is, however, an app for that.

Status Report

I have been busy online for the last several months, even though I haven't posted regularly here. Here's a quick rundown:

Even though I've been reading, I haven't posted a book review here in a while. That doesn't mean I haven't been reviewing books, however! Several of my reviews of lesbian-themed novels have been posted at the Lesbrary: Storms by Gerri Hill; The Jewel Box by Alcamia Payne (not recommended, but the review was fun to write); Rulebreaker by Cathy Pegau; Ghosts of Winter by Rebecca S. Buck; and Rum Spring by Yolanda Wallace. Of those, Rulebreaker was my favorite. Keep your eye on the Lesbrary for more material--I'm committed to reviewing at least one item per month.

On the professional front, Robin (@Tuphlos) and I have been working steadily on our collection development blog, talking about issues that we see every day. Some of my recent posts include:

Weeding Window, Deaccession Drama
Collection Dilemmas: Poetry
Reporting From the Front Lines
Statistics 2: Extreme Close-Up

I also participated in the Library Day in the Life project at Collection Reflection as well as on this blog.

I was interviewed by Sarah at YA Librarian Tales for her "Life Behind the Reference Desk" series. I also recently did a guest post on the Letters to a Young Librarian blog about one of my favorite activities: walking.

And of course I've been busy posting humorous book covers at MARC of the Beast.

When I actually put all this together, it looks like I've been busy! My goal is to post book reviews more regularly here, but in the meantime I have been getting back in the flow of writing by writing a few more personal pieces. I hope they've been enjoyable!