Showing posts with label Penguin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Penguin. Show all posts

Thursday, 18 August 2011

Book Review: Superfreakonomics




"Witty, whimsical, weird and wonderful. Levitt and Dubner have done it again."





Sequel to the 2005 bestseller, Freakonomics, Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner return to satisfy our cravings for all things strange and unusual. Their latest work Superfrekonomics promises to be bigger, better and more boisterous than its predecessor. Upon flicking immediately to the contents page though, you will already see that they have already failed on one aspect. It is shorter.
With only five chapters instead of six, and fewer pages, Superfreakonomics seems to offer less value for money. But fear not, for the topics discussed are more relevant, important and serious than those discussed in their original works.

Be it the examination of the economics of prostitution in Chicago, the many disadvantages that apply to being female or the solution to global warming - Superfreakonomics has enough in its repertoire to appeal, satisfy and delight many fans and newcomers. Yet it isn't the themes that are the star of the show, but the explanations for them. They veer from the sublime to the ridiculous - at times, offering unique and original conclusions on how best to tackle a problem. For instance, who would've thought that drink-walking is more dangerous than drink-driving?
Indeed the book tries its best to steer away from the conventional ways of thinking providing reasons for why the solutions to a given problem, such as lowering the death toll in hospitals or reducing the power of hurricanes, can be both cheap and effective.
The most compelling argument in the book though would have to be global warming. An issue which affects everyone and one which has left many scientists scratching their heads at for several decades. Whilst the book argues that the effects of global warming have been greatly exaggerated, it does to its credit, offers up a few possibilities towards solving it. This would involve geoengineering - widespread manipulation of the Earth's climate. What follows is intriguing to say the least, but does leave many to question the implications of such a project.

It is perhaps these sections which should be the books strong point - presenting a greatly contested view on how best to solve a problem. In fact, rather than encourage, the authors implore us to challenge their conclusions. And of course this has led many to take heed, with some going as far as to label the methods and practices used to be associated with 'amateur sociology'.
But overall, the authors fail to fulfill this criteria for public discussion because the tone of the book carries an arrogant swagger to it, which seems irksome when one is attempting to debate a different view on a situation.

On the other hand, you can't fault the humour employed in the opening chapters. There are moments which instigates you to laugh uproariously at the word choice, the sheer audacity of some statements and the unenviable positions some found themselves under. To think that the WHO issued condoms weren't 'optimized' [sic] for Indian men would make even the most hardened killjoy chuckle. Or perhaps that's just my immature self saying that.
Which makes it even more disappointing to see that this humour couldn't be translated in the central stages. Yet this could owe more to the appropriateness of placing humour in serious passages than to a lack of ability to.

The arrangement of overarching topics and themes arranged in separate chapters allows the book to be read in relatively short bursts - one chapter at a time, enabling a greater accessibility to it. Thus allowing many readers to pick up and read the book. This also means that if a certain chapter doesn't take your fancy, then you can happily skip it and move onto a more interesting one, safe in the knowledge that you didn't miss anything that would be of particular interest.

What Superfreakonomics does best though is offer readers a enjoyable and delightful experience. It has mass appeal, through the humour employed, the accessible chapters, the relevant topics and the unique insights. It makes economics universal and allows us to acknowledge and grasp the fact that there is more to economics than money, finance and the economy. And if that isn't enough to whet your appetite, then how about this to ignite your interest; the first lab recorded instant of spontaneous monkey prostitution!
4/5

Thursday, 28 July 2011

Book Review: A Clockwork Orange





"Brilliant and frustrating in equal measure"





There are many novels throughout history which demonstrate an authors incredible command of the English language. Take for example Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o or Vladimir Nabokov, here with have two authors who, whilst their mother tongue's are not necessarily English, have the ability to transcend this obstacle and turn this on its head. They have raised the bar for English prose making it hard for traditional English writers to surpass.
Anthony Burgess' 'A Clockwork Orange' meanwhile, isn't concerned with this. In fact, rather than let this be an obstacle, Burgess uses it as a springboard to catapult his novel to cult status. He has done what very few would even dream of executing, and that is to virtually create a new language.

And rather appropriately so, for the main protagonist of the novel is Alex, the 15 year old anti-hero whose main interests include classical music and ultra violence. The language which Burgess creates perfectly captures these adolescent years and convincingly highlights the divide between the teenage and adult generations.

That said, 'A Clockwork Orange' is not for the faint hearted. The opening scene describes Alex and his droogs (friends) searching the streets for something occupy themselves with. Upon noticing someone, they put on the charm offensive, and eventually attacking him. These scenes of violence and bloodshed are particularly vivid, if not short lived. Burgess' crude descriptions of these encounters serve to notify us of the heinous crimes they commit and the surreal circumstances in which the novel is set. 
Indeed it is one of his crimes which leads to his downfall whereby Alex is caught pilfering from a house, killing the occupant in the process. This leads Alex to be interrogated, rather harshly, by the police. During these moments, we begin to feel a slight ounce of pity for him due to his poor treatment, yet the overriding emotion is that he got his just deserts. 
He is then sentenced to the state prison where he is expected to serve time and it is during this period where his life is turned upside down. Alex is selected as a test subject for a revolutionary new technique, called the Ludovico's technique, whereby he was indoctrinated to learn that violence is bad through feelings of nausea and sickness.


It is here where the main themes of the novel lies - Ludovico's technique worked by removing the sufferer of choice, forcing them to learn that violence was bad in whatever situations it comes under. It made Alex a machine who was programmed to refuse acts of harm and even thoughts of it. Rendering him incapable of making his own choices. 
Part of the whole process of maturity is to learn from your mistakes. And whilst it may, at first, seem as if he was through the rigorous and intense techniques employed, one must remember that these learnings stem from the participants willingness to change. Alex wasn't planning to stop his criminal rampage. So he was essentially taught and forced to accept a new way of thinking, shattering the initial wirings of his brain, the ones which he had developed over the years, thus breaking the natural cycle of maturity.
To add further salt into the wounds, another source of enjoyment is also blocked - whenever Alex hears classical music, he begins to experience bouts of sickness, thus making him unable to enjoy and seek pleasure in his hobbies. Driving him to the brink of suicide, whereby Alex contemplates taking his life. Which brings about pathos and sympathy for him - Burgess paints an image that reveals the government to be inhumane. One where the government's ruthless methods encapsulates the state's need to control and coordinate people's behaviour at all costs.


Questions are asked on whether the end justifies the means; is a peaceful society really worth the negligence of humanity's precious attribute, choice? Is it correct to giving up a person's ability of free will so that a community can leave in comfort and safety? And is it right that we destroy an individual's sense of individuality for our own personal benefits?


No doubt that 'A Clockwork Orange'  is a deep, thought-provoking and revealing novel, asking some tough, uneasy and controversial questions in relation to our morals and ethics. Whether it is an immensely satisfying novel, is another matter. The main sticking point would be Burgess' implementation of a language which proves to be intensely hard to grasp in the early stages. This is due to the start being littered with it, meaning what little chance you had of understanding certain words are lost through incomprehensible sentences.
It seems as if every word, every sentence, every paragraph and every page is a constant struggle. And whilst this may work on the one hand; symbolising the persistent battle between the youth and the state. It doesn't work for the archetypal reader who seeks to read for enjoyment.
That said, there will be some who relish at the thought of a challenge and would happily spend hours on end trying to interpret the novel.Yet for those who don't have much time or patience, they may just give up the novel before reaching the climax. Which is a shame because towards the latter end of the novel, the language does let off to some extent and you are able to understand and watch the story unfold. 
3/5