Author: thepassionatereader

I have greatly enjoyed most of the humorous books and plays by this rural Ontario genius. Many years ago, we searched for one of them, before heading to the Blyth Theatre to see the play of the same name with my parents. The assistant at Indigo insisted the it would be found in the Agriculture section but we eventually found it under Humour. Somehow, I had missed this one until now.

The author, as Walt Wingfield, a parttime farmer in fictitious Persephone Townshp has an unparalleled knack for the sudden hilarious nonsequiter while commenting on the local scene in letters to the local Larkspur paper.

But he also gets serious in dissing excessive government regulation, and the very dramatic and touching family feuds and misunderstandings. The effect is to create a vivid picture of the rural community spirit and willingness to help in spite of vast differences.

Some of many memorable quotes: «  I believe that those who forget history are condemned to repeat the mistakes of the past. Knowing our history gives us the opportunity to make entirely new mistakes. »

« you know what we call the fire department- the basement savers. »

« As a horse ages, the front teeth get longer and the back teeth are worn down to almost nothing. It is the opposite of how you tell the age of a hockey player. »

«They say that when Gus was down at Woodbine they never ran short of horseshoes. They’d just bend him over and pull one out of his…. »

Some of the humour is a bit silly, as when the only mosquito in the area is described as having out of province plates.

I devoured this book the same day that I borrowed it from the library and greatly enjoyed it, perhaps in part because I grew up on a farm not very far from the mythical site of Persephone Township, and Larkspur.

4.7/5

I occasionally pick up books that I sense I will not enjoy, just to see if I can figure out what others like about them. Such was the case with this book. This is the latest in a long list of novels, short stories and plays by the much acclaimed British writer and member of the House of Lords. I admit that I have vague memories of somewhat enjoying his 1977 Shall We Tell The President. This story is set around the year 2000, mostly in Britain, Saudi Arabia and the U.S., although there are no exact dates mentioned.

The plot is exceedingly complex with so many characters that I found it impossible to keep them straight, and almost none of them are honest law-abiding citizens. There are so many improbable occurrences that it became impossible to believe any of them. I accept that the world of crime and law enforcement is more complex than usually appreciated, but this exceeds all limits of believability.

Forged art and documents are bidded on at Christie’s auction by Donald Trump and Michael Bloomberg, and it seems characters carry around millions of dollars in cash and lethal weapons and yet never have any troubles crossing borders.

There are a few memorable quotes. A high-end prostitute notes: …‘« like footballers and ballet dancers, we have our sell-by date. »

An unscrupulous lawyer: « …lawyers gain a reputation for being ambulance chasers, but not Mr Booth Watson QC. He was of a higher calling and fell into the category of a funeral attending QC. »

I cannot recommend this book, and do not comprehend why it and others like it are bestsellers. But that is just me.

1.5/5

There was no difficulty for me to relate to this memoir. I spent three years in New Haven, where it is sited, with a Jewish instructor and a Jewish collègue, and have played bridge poorly for more than 35 years. And it covers in part the time that I was there. Many locations were familiar to me.

The bridge ladies are a longstanding group of entirely Jewish ladies who have been playing at various levels for 50 years or more. Their story is related by the admittedly bipolar daughter of one of them who belatedly took up the game in part to try to understand the complex psychology of the group, who are of diverse backgrounds, eschew any real expression of affection, and seemingly have little in common except their Jewishness and their love of the game.

This book reads like a novel but is based on real experiences of the author. In places, it becomes difficult to keep the characters straight, and it is a good introduction into the Jewish mindset. sobering to hear of the deaths of mostly domineering husbands, and the loss of independence of the bridge ladies as they face the prospect of moving to assisted living facilities. That prospect also scares me as I approach my 80th birthday.

I am not sure how easy it would be to understand this memoir for someone who has never played bridge, but the simple explanations of the rules, etiquette and complexity of the game should still make it enjoyable.

The love/hate conflicted relationship between the author and her mother is a recurring theme of this memoir.

The author’s anxiety and deep constant introspection detract from the book in my opinion.

T

4.2/5

Thanks, Rhynda and Vera.

This debut novel by a Toronto writer covers the four month period of late 1923 when a young Ernest Hemingway with a bride and a newborn was employed as a frusrated reporter by The Toronto Daily Star. That part of the story is not fiction. He is assigned to write about a daring breakout from the Kingston Penitentury which is also not fiction, but after other assignments, he keeps encountering the escaped convicts in a variety of highly unlikely places, including Windsor’s rum-running docks, and at a boxing match in New York. He becomes obsessed with and sympathetic to the convicts. Alternating short chapters detail the harrowing adventures of the escapees as they steal cars and rob banks and the frustrated writer who has yet to become famous.

The title bears a dubious if any connection to the plot other than Hemingway’s known love for bullfighting and cheering for the underdog.

The writing is superbly entertaining but the premise is exaggerated to the point of being unbelievable. But as an introduction to the young Hemingway, his way of looking at the world, and the Toronto of the 1920s it is unparalleled.

3.5/5

Thanks Mike.

Supposedly all about the 1925 Scopes trial, the teaching of evolution in Tennessee school, that trial is barely mentioned except for in the16 page preface until one gets to half way through the book. Instead, the New York author provides a detailed background of the culture, religions, wars, strikes bigotry, politics, philosophy and violence of early 20th century American life. This is in part from the starkly contrasting beliefs of the prosecuting and defence teams headed by Wm. Jennings Bryan, three-time pesidential candidate and Clarence Darrow, the renowned agnostic.

This book provides a vivid picture of the contrasting bigoted anti-science Fundamentalists who supported the Klu Klux Klan and Prohibition and the numerous talented and educated Northerners exemplified by Clarence Darrow, eloquent in defending John Scopes charged with violating a Tennessee law prohibiting the teaching of evolution in schools. Scopes was set up to test the law by ACLU lawyers. The first part of the book centers on discussion of the influence of Nietzsche, Huxley, Menchen and numerous others on American culture of the 1920s, the eugenics movement and Prohibition.

A small aside: there is brief mention of a boy named Sue. Is this the origin of Johnny Cash’s song of the same name, as he was also in eastern Tennessee?

The result of the trial, in spite of the rhetoric and best efforts of the defence team, a guilty verdict, was a forgone conclusion and a loss for freedom science, and democracy, given that the judge was himself a rabid Fundamentalist and the jury was excluded from hearing the testimony of all of the expert scientists. (The result was later overturned on a technicality by the Tennessee Supreme Court.)

Of numerous witty sayings by Clarence Darrow: « I have never murdered anyone, but on occasion I have read obituary notices with a certain degree of satisfaction. »

There is a very helpful list of persons dramatis at the end that should have been at the start of the book.

This is a very good educational read that is now more than ever relevant given the anti-science environment we still face.

4.0/5.

The New Yorker.

The Maine novelist has set this story in modern times mainly in the towns of Crosby and Shirley Falls, Maine. It seems that every adult is divorced at least once and most have had a traumatic childhood. There are none who could remotely be considered normal. There is endless self analysis and everyone seems keen to take offence at the slightest comment.

Endlessly philosophical talk, discussion and psychoanalysis between Lucy and Bob about loneliness and the impossibility of really getting to know anyone leads to no real conclusion. Bob Burgess, a criminal defence lawyer is so insecure that when he gets a bad haircut, he is embarrassed to the point of avoiding friends for weeks.

There are some naive medical assertions. A comatose accident victim comes to and begins to talk to his father although a few paragraphs before he still had an endotracheal tube in place and later he is said to have a cast on his shoulder.

The list of characters is lengthy and their relationships can be hard to keep track of. A guide to the main characters and their vocations at the start as a reference would have been helpful.

I learned nothing from this less-than-memorable novel. I promise that I will learn from my next read.

2.5/5

Thanks, Jean.

This book by a New York author is all about the deployment and early use of the James Web Space telescope. Not only was it away over budget, but it didn’t launch until 2021, years after it was supposed to, succeeding the Kepler telescope, which was also long delayed and wildly over cost. This leads to the conclusion that the Habitable Worlds telescope planned for launch in 2040 will also likely be delayed and have billions of dollars added to its initial cost estimate.

I would be lying to claim that I understood more than a small fraction of the science detailed in spite of attending the first 3 lectures on astronomy put on by the WELU, (West End Learning Unlimited) organization, with 2 more to come shortly. There are literally hundreds of astronomers cited with remarkable discoveries of billions or trillions of planets, stars, asteroids, comets and exoplanets in an ever expanding universe, with even the universe as we know it being only one of seemingly many. The tentative discovery of dimethyl sulfite on the K-18 planet gained popular press coverage as a possible indication of life, but K-18 is 124 light-years away from earth, so even if real that says nothing about life elsewhere at present.

I did learn that astronomers assign colours to the photographs of the electromagnetic spectrum that they obtain and convert into visible light almost at random which goes some way to explaining why those photos seem so confusing and inconsistent to me.

It seems debatable to nonscientists whether or not expenditure of this magnitude is justifiable, given the seemingly unsolvable problems we have here on earth. However, the mysteries of the skies have preoccupied humans since before any even rudimentary understanding of them, and I am not one to decry expenditure on science of any kind. Even if nothing concrete comes from such endeavours, the enthusiasm and cooperation of astronomers from vastly different cultures is worthy of praise and a uniting force for humankind. I just wish I understood more of the physics and mathematics involved.

3/5

Thanks, Book Browse.

No one recommended this hook to me. I was simply browsing in the library when I noticed it and felt that my education must have been neglected as I had heard a lot about the late Farley Mowat but had never read any of his books. This is his autobiography for the years between 1937 and 1949 i.e before he became a full-time writer. This includes his service in the Army in Italy during WWII and his largely frustrated efforts to bring memorabilia to the Canadian War Museum.

Adventurer, scientist, explorer and writer, his love of the Other, whether herds of caribou, birds of all kinds or Inuit natives, is infectious. His adventures in the far north involved hardships and risks that few would even consider but that he embraced with enthusiasm. Once a rabid trapper and hunter, he gradually became an equally enthusiastic conservationist and a devoted advocate for the endangered, including the Inuit people. His most famous books include The People of the Deer, and Never Cry Wolf, that are probably based mostly on his exploits documented here.

His candid confessions and anxieties are accompanied by a clear sense of duty and concern about the future of all endangered species.

A citizen that Canada should be proud of. But I won’t be reading his other books as there must be a lot of duplication.

4.5/5

No one recommended this hook to me. I was simply browsing in the library when I noticed it and felt that my education must have been neglected as I had heard a lot about the late Farley Mowat but had never read any of his books. This is his autobiography for the years between 1937 and 1949 i.e before he became a full-time writer. This includes his service in the Army in Italy during WWII and his largely frustrated efforts to bring memorabilia back to the Canadian War Museum.

Adventurer, scientist, explorer and writer, his love of the Other, whether herds of caribou, birds of all kinds or Inuit natives, is infectious. His adventures in the far north involved hardships and risks that few would even consider but that he embraced with enthusiasm. Once a rabid trapper and hunter, he gradually became an equally enthusiastic conservationist and a devoted advocate for the endangered, including the Inuit people. His most famous books include The People of the Deer, and Never Cry Wolf, that are probably based mostly on his exploits documented here.

His candid confessions and anxieties are accompanied by a clear sense of duty and concern about the future of all endangered species.

A citizen that Canada should be proud of. But I won’t be reading his other books as there must be a lot of duplication.

4.5/5

The former British MI6 operative and novelist who wrote this piece of trash was previously unknown to me. In the first part, Iranian spies, arms dealers and killers in Bosnia during the war and genocide of 1992-1995, play a prominent role. There is multilayered secrecy and intrigue, with lying to and threatening or killing friends and foe with equal abandon and numerous aliases. In the the first few pages at least eight people are shot to death in Central Park within a few minutes, at least one by his fellow spy, and no one is called to task for that.

The melodramatic unrealistic search for Will in the forest, is only one of many impossible parts of this story. Will Cochrane seems to be able to time-travel from one country to another, fully armed, see around corners, and never get caught. A man swims 100 meters in icy water underwater without taking a breath, carrying a backpack with a submachine gun that still works.

Megiddo, the mastermind Iranian spy ruthlessly plans to blow up the Metropolitan Opera House with 3000 children and the wives of all the world’s major statesmen. This plan too is foiled by the impossibly intuitive Will Cochrane.

So convoluted and impossible is this story that the only way I can explain the author’s intention is if he meant it as a parody mocking the whole abundant genre of spy novels. I cannot recommend it.

1.5/5

Thanks, Maurice.

This short novel is narrated in the present tense by a black poor teen girl who has two children fathered by her father by the time she is sixteen, in the late 80’s Harlem. The guttural slang and description of the most depraved and violent sexual encounters and perversions imaginable would make a drunken sailor blush.

Illiterate, obese, and unschooled, the protagonist finds some elementary reading and writing education in a special school, but much of what she relates in slang and lingo is still unintelligible. She has a very elementary understanding of Langston Hughes’s poetry which she quotes, and worships Louis Farrakhan. The seemingly endless rounds of social agencies seem to do little to help her except for one teacher at the special school.

The NewYork author is an aspiring poet with a MFA from Brooklyn College and incorporates what seems to me to be nonsensical poetry in this bleak story. There is no denouement to the life story- it just stops, followed by a sampling of the writing of the girls in the special school.

Readers should hope that none of this story is from personal experience of the author, but that seems unlikely as novelists usually write about what they have experienced in some way, even when disguised.

2.5/5

Thanks, Carrol A.

This historical fiction is set in Hollowell, Maine, on the Kenebec River, starting in 1789, and is narrated by the author in the voice of a local midwife and healer. The battered body of Joshua Burgess is hauled from the frigid river and she takes it upon herself to solve the mystery, among many other self-assured undertakings.

The wife of the dismissed parson is charged with fornication, and he is accused of murder, and then it gets even more complicated with time shifts, many accusations of malfeasance, and far more descriptions of delivery of babies than necessary.

This story is loosely based on the life of a real famous real famous midwife, and the dramatic intrinsic conflict with a medical doctor, which often features gender biases prominently to this day. I will admit to a bias in favour of obstetricians, even though midwives did a splendid job delivering two of my five grandchildren. Here, the local doctor is portrayed as not just incompetent, but also dishonest and greedy.

The story features a fierce trained falcon, a corrupt rapist judge and lumber proprietor among other alleged rapisists, charges of incest, an epileptic newborn, an outbreak of diphtheria, and many court hearings in which hearsay evidence is often admitted.

The voice of the author, too variable in volume, pitch and speed, makes the audiobook version of this story less than optimal. I suspect that a print version would be easier to follow and less disjointed.

3.5/5

Thanks, Michele.

The well -known Israeli thinker/historian, author of Sapiens and several other books, in this book delves into the nature of information networks and exchanges. But even after twelve pages of pedantic discussion, he seems to abandon any rigid definition of ‘information’ and any possible relationship to reality or truth, words which to him seem to have equally opaque meanings.

The text is supplemented with 163 pages of notes and a 37 page index.

The author dwells at length with self-correcting information systems. “… the scientific revolution was launched by the discovery of ignorance.”

“As an information technology, the self-correcting mechanism is the polar opposite of the holy book. The holy book is supposed to be infallible.”

“Allowing the government to search for the truth is like appointing a fox to supervise the chicken coup.”

He becomes very pessimistic about the existential threat of uncontrolled and non self-correcting AI and coins the term the Silicon Curtain to detail the emerging fight between the U.S. and China over its development.

For me, this dry humourless book contains superb insights in some areas such as when discussing the pope’s apologies for people but not for the church itself which still maintains infallibility, though made up of people. In other areas it became pedantic and speculative, particularly when addressing AI. Not as good as Sapiens, but still insightful.

3.5/5

Thanks, Alan.

I am in awe of the vast knowledge and insights of this well-known soon to be 84 year-old Emeritus Professor at Oxford, famed geneticist and Darwinian scholar. In this, his latest book he expounds on a huge variety of genetic topics from the companion viruses and bacteria to the life cycle of many organisms from viruses to elephants. A recurring theme of the book is the palimpsest of genes defined as the writing over text on top of existing text.

The text is accompanied by startling example photographs, drawings and charts of amazing creatures, large and small. He makes extensive use of the gene’s ability to metaphorically ‘look back’ at its own history to make sense of itself and to predict its future. Several controversial theories are introduced, and his older hypothesis are defended with vigour.

In addition to the 297 pages cited there are 28 pages of Endnotes, a nine page bibliography, and an eleven page index.

Not known for his humility, the author is fond of quoting from his previous books, including The Selfish Gene, The Blind Watchmaker, and The Extended Phenotype. His previous hypotheses are also widely reviewed.

I got lost in some of the very detailed discussion and assertions that seemed a bit tenuous to this naive scientist, but I also must admit that I learned a lot, quite enjoyed most of the book and am even more in awe of the complexity of biology.

Still, not as good as The Selfish Gene or The God Delusion, his fierce defence of atheism, in my opinion. Certainly this book is not for someone who is not interested in biology or science, as it is extremely detailed, and absolutely humourless.

3.8/5

Thanks, The Economist.

Books

This historical novel by the American writer starts from the viewpoint of an eight year old girl in 1489 in regimented China. Being born in the year of the Metal Snake, she aspires to follow the family tradition and becomes a doctor by age 15. Her mother dies of infection because of the widespread practice of binding feet. She is widely scorned by the established extremely misogynous medical establishment

Concubines jockey for position, often with the help of wives, herbal concoctions abound and endless lists have to be memorized all numbered, including Five concepts, Five Depot organs, Seven emotions, Five Fatigues, Four vices, Five Deaths, Four examinations, 28 or 100 different pulses, and Four Quintessential attributes. The Smallpox Plant master visits to supposedly prevent that deadly disease with variolation. There is a Period of Three Letters and Six Etiquettes, Six Pernicious Influences, and the Decoction of Four Gentlemen. At age eight, her betrothal is already settled, seven years hence.

Once she is married, she also gets the most devious hostile controlling mother-in-law imaginable when she gives birth to girls, not the desired boy.

Moxibustion points ( applying herbal heat) to the many acupuncture sites are used to treat many illnesses.

A woman with menstrual problems is assessed by Dr. Tan. “You’re suffering from Spleen qi deficiency and injured Kidney yin caused by taxation from toil, …. This type of deep fatigue can come from too much work or from extreme mental doings like studying too hard.”

The cure is equally confusing. “First, please have the herbalist make you a Decoction to Supplement the Center and Boost Qi.”

In a different setting: “ I’ll start with herbs to end your bleeding and continue the Decoction of Four substances and the Decoction of Two aged ingredients. I’ll supplement the latter with cardamom to regulate your qi,…. and the immature bitter orange to promote healing.”

The intrigue and deviousness of the elite Chinese households is impossible to exaggerate, but Lady Tan was a real physician, mainly treating women and childbirth problems and left copious notes for this author to develop into her novel.

There are literally hundreds of trite Chinese aphorisms that become quite tedious.

This book is soberingly educational, even more-so than the author’s previous The Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane. But both are so far removed from any science and modern western medicine that I had trouble relating to them.

3.5/5

Thanks, Book Club 2.

An Irish writer provides this delicious story about a Chicago police officer who retires to a decrepit shack in the Irish countryside, only to find that he still needs his detective skills to solve the mystery of a local youth who has gone missing. This occupies more and more of his time with many false leads and colourful local characters, many of them criminals. As well, his past life with the the Chicago Police, a dysfunctional marriage and a distant aloof daughter are gradually revealed in small hints along the way.

300 pages later, the mystery of the missing youth has resulted in many violent confrontations, and although the reader senses that the youth will be found, where and doing what are still mysteries.

There are many graphic features of rural Irish life with abundant often crude humorous conversations in local dialect.

A couple of quotes:

Drunks in a pub discussing a red headed girl: “I wouldn’t say the carpet matches the curtains there.”

“…Cal learned a long time ago never to underestimate the spectacular natural wonder that is people’s stupidity.”

The prose flows beautifully, and the description of the countryside is hauntingly beautiful.

In the last 100 pages, the violence with guns becomes a bit unrealistic, sensational, gratuitous and confusing.

4/5

Thanks, June.

This Scottish environmentalist and head of Our World in Data, has written the most upbeat book on the environment that I have ever read. Loaded with literally hundreds of counterintuitive facts and clear graphs, along with scholarly references, she has me convinced that the world is not doomed. At the same time she does not deny the serious challenges we face with such problems as air pollution, deforestation, food production, climate change, loss of biodiversity, and depletion of fish stocks, but offers safe and effective solutions.

The air we breathe is the cleanest it has been in at least 1000 years and we can do even better with modern technology to capture pollutants at source.

Food production to feed 9OO million people requires better crop yields, distribution and a change in diets with less waste. That requires some judicious use of fertilizers and pesticides, not more land for agriculture.

The Amazon rain forest actually contributes almost nothing to the atmospheric oxygen concentration, and burning stubble to produce land for palm oil production is less of a problem than the substitute production of some other oils including olive oil.

Of the 460 million tons of plastic waste produced annually only a small fraction ends up in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Most of that comes from the fishing industry. Much of the waste plastic can be safely stowed in sealed landfill, which is much more economical than trading it around the world or recycling it. Or it may be possible in the future to break it down chemically in an ecologically friendly way.

I occasionally do some volunteer work at a local small-scale ecological farm and research facility that religiously avoids all pesticides, insecticides, weed-killers and fertilizers other than mulch. It claims that it can match or exceed crop yields of industrial farms, but is labour intensive. Perhaps avoiding all fertilizers and pesticides is not really necessary, according to this author.

This is the best book about scientific ecology that I have ever read, bar none. A much more detailed update to Michael Berners-Lee’s great How Bad Are Bananas? The Carbon Footprint of Everything. Deserving of some prize.

5/5

Thanks, Book Browse.

This is the eighth book by the ex-pat Canadian social commentator living in New York, who takes great delight in pointing out the counterintuitive.

Starting and finishing the text he cites the testimony of the now defunct Sacklers in relation to the opioid crisis in the U.S. and does make some counterintuitive points. In between he discusses the apparent tipping point of having a Magic Third of women on corporate boards, the descent of Miami into the capital of Medicare fraud, the problematic recruitment of athletes to Harvard and Georgetown, the homogeneity of Poplar Grove leading to an epidemic of suicides, the superspreaders of Covid, and a variety of other societal problems.

I found some of the associations that he asserts to be tipping points to be contrived, highly speculative and of dubious importance.

Several charts within the text and almost every one of the 29 pages of endnotes are superimposed on the text making it almost impossible to read them clearly, in the ebook version at least. This is obviously the fault of the layout team and not the author.

At one point he seems to claim that Fort Erie, Ontario is larger than nearby Buffalo, when in fact it is about 1/10 the size.

Although I learned a fair bit from reading this book, it is not nearly as good as the original The Tipping Point.

3.5/5

Thanks, Book Bub

This screed is the summation of a lifetime of work as a feminist, now retired from a job as an editor at the Globe and Mail. She apparently also teaches at the Toronto Metropolitan University, known previously as Ryerson.

The continuing problem of bias against and violence to women is carefully documented with a host of examples, some not at all obvious to this white male of priveledge. The evils of nondisclosure clauses are clear, particularly when it involves instances of sexual abuse. A host of quotes and studies vey adequately documents the continuing, major problem including discussion of Miriam Toews « Women Talking. », but does not include Maria Moores equally frightening « Not my Kind Of Mennonite. », an equally frightening book.

The technology of modern tracking developed mainly by misogynous men is used to aid men in abusive relationships. The history of misogynous abuse, particularly by Indiginous men, is often inadequately investigated by white male police until it leads to murder. The lack of knowledge and interest in investment opportunities by women is also perpetuated by male investment brokers and counsellors.

There is at least one error. The first female head of state was Sri Lanka, not Iceland, according to Wikipedia.

With personal and family experience with misogynous abuse, and lots of personal history, I quite enjoyed and learned a lot from reading this book in my continuing efforts to be fair to all women.

4/5

Born in London, Ontario, this author grew up in New Zealand, where this story takes a place, and now lives in Britain. This is not the Birnam Wood of McBeth, but the name of a group of radical socialist environmentalists determined to preserve some portion of the huge real Korowai Park, for eco-friendly farming, and biodiversity. But a knighted owner of a pest control company with a complicated relationship to Birnam Woods, has plans to develop it, and a paranoid American billionaire wants the land to build a self-sustaining, secret doomsday bunker on it. Or at least that is the stated but hush-hush plan. Or is he only interested in the richness of the area in rare earth minerals, or radioactive compounds? None of the plans are straightforward, and everyone is quite prepared to break the law to achieve their goals.

The plot gets extremely complicated with extensive surveillance of everyone by drones, and tracking of phones, and double-crossing lies by almost everyone. I won’t give away the gruesome conclusion of the story except to say that there are LSD trips, multiple casualties, and very circuitous clever coverups.

There are sentences that run on for half a page or more, but the story is realistic and not terribly hard to follow. The bunker story seems to be modelled after the real so-far failed attempts of Peter Thiel of PayPal fame to build one in New Zealand.

This is a damming description of unchecked capitalism at its worst that I quite enjoyed although there is little to admire in the socialist alternative either, at least as depicted here.

4.5/5

Thanks, Mary M.

A now retired Inuit doctor and Air Force Captain from Russell, Ontario, just outside of Ottawa, is recruited to serve as the medical advisor to the Canadian Army medical corps in Bosnia with the NATO peacekeeping mission in 1998. There he documents his daily experiences over 209 days, having previously worked mainly pushing paper at National Defence Headquarters in Ottawa.

As an intoduction to peacekeeping in the aftermath of the genocidal wars in Bosnia and Kosovo, this is a masterpiece of information and a tribute to Canadian soldiers. His personal hardships and his enormous humanitarian contributions to the local residents are exemplary. The daily activities provide ample opportunities for dry humour on almost every page. He does not hesitate to mock the Canadian Armed Forces for their inefficiency, waste, and excessive beaucracy.

He seems be obsessed with running long distances and several sports. He seems a little excessively humble and self-depricating.

One thing that turned me off a bit was his religiosity, frequently ending the account of daily activities with either a short prayer or a thank you to God for what his colleagues and not God had accomplished that day.

There are three pages of acronyms that the armed forces are fond of using. A reference map of this troubled part of the world with the many towns visited would have been helpful.

I quite enjoyed this account and will recommend it to a very senior military officer who also served abroad.

3.6/5

Thanks, Bob.