In this tidy one-volume history, Pierre Goubert fairly encapsulates the social, political, and economic evolution of France, from the blurry edges of the monarchy in 987 to the present (about 1980). More fluid and narratively organized than a textbook, but too sweeping to fit neatly with most modern nonfiction historical works, The Course of French History maintains enough momentum to avoid drying out, but never approaches being a page-turner. Goubert, who has done his research, tempers and delivers his own informed judgements passively. This volume suits anyone doing independent study of French, European, or
even World History, giving you all the basics with just a taste of the details.
Note Recounting the contents here would be pointless.
I wanna give, I wanna give, I want to give everything up for grabs. I wanna say, I wanna say, I wanna say all the little things. I wanna make, I wanna make, I wanna make all of the good times. I want to shake, I want to shake, I want to shake, I want to shake your hand.
But what I really want to do is dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance.
I wanna feel, I wanna feel, I want to feel lake water. I wanna think, I wanna think, I wanna think, Oh, man, I want to think something fine. I wanna take, I wanna take, I want to such a long long time. I wanna wake, I wanna wake, I want to wake up and see your shoes in the stairwell.
It takes a good friend to say you've got your head up your ass. It takes a good friend to meet you in the park in the dark. It takes an enemy to help you get out of bed. It takes your lover to leave you, to feel loneliness.
I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance. I wanna dance.
I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you to sew a button on my shirt. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you to come home. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you to help us out. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you only to love me for my black eyes.
It takes a good friend to say you've got your head up your ass. It takes a good friend to meet you in the park in the dark. It takes and enemy to help you get out of bed. It takes your lover to leave you, to feel loneliness.
Watered, green escape; a little unkempt but altogether perfect. Garden beds along the path hugging in the grass. Clothesline, birdbath, roses and dogwood. The big pecan tree and shade freckled with sun. Even back then this was already a place protected in the warm trust of memory. Greened my hands with the broken skins of unripe pecans smashed against the tree trunk. Grandpa's Lava soap cleaned my hands, and his knowing it would was better than my hands returned unstained
He established himself on the standup circuit, was an original cast member on MADtv, co-starred with Norm MacDonald in the movie "Dirty Work," and sometimes is a guest on late-night talk shows, but most people know Artie Lange from his eight years on Howard Stern's radio show. Too Fat to Fish, Lange's first autobiographical book detailing his (sur)real-life adventures, camped out defiantly on best-seller lists. In Crash and Burn, his latest book, he relives the decent into the drug and alcohol addiction that nearly ruined his career and led him to attempt a violent suicide. Crash and Burn narrates Artie's debauchery and excess. While this sounds juicy, the repeated
confessions of abuse,
blackouts, hiding and lying to family and friends makes for a tale that is far more sad than sidesplitting. Though I'm not a Stern/Artie devotee, I'm familiar with some of the characters in the Stern show world, and easily enjoyed this fast read. When the book ends, Artie is sober, engaged, and hosting a sports and entertainment radio show called "The Artie Lange Show" (originally "The Nick & Artie Show" co-hosted by comedian Nick DiPaolo).
Candide is a novella by Enlightenment writer, historian, and philosopher Voltaire (1694–1778). The witty, outspoken Voltaire was often at odds with the laws, customs, and institutions of his day. Despite--or perhaps because of--his controversies, Voltaire achieved great fame in his lifetime.
First published in 1759, Candide unfolds the adventures of a naive but bright young man who optimistically emerges from an idyllic upbringing only to meet painfully with a world burdened with wrongs, hardships, and evils that invite his disillusionment.
Initially taught that "all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds," the young Candide concludes after contending with the problem of evil that, in life, one should "cultivate our garden." What this philosophical riddle means is much debated. Voltaire is posing our dilemma: How do we respond faced with the problem of evil? Now, as adults, far, far away from any Garden of Eden, how do we approach the world? This absurd allegory encourages us to be clear-eyed, tireless reformers working toward the good.
I know a seagull. He watches me, uncaring. Sometimes when he flies the sky warms from a restless midnight to a delicate peach speckled heaven blue. He is overhead now. Hello, again, Seagull. I only see his silhouette.
In a Russian a literary journal in 1866, Fyodor Dostoyevsky published Crime and Punishment, a novel that follows a young man named Rodion Raskolnikov immediately before and after he murders an unscrupulous pawnbroker and her feeble sister. The motive, which does not seem fully and explicitly formed even for our protagonist, develops through Dostoyevsky's narrative. It seems altogether an act of desperate poverty, self-empowerment, and destiny.
In those forlorn, guilt-infected postmurder days spent adrift among a diverse cast of emotional string-pulling supporting characters, Raskolnikov remains under suspicion but not arrest. The action turns when a coy police inspector reminds Raskolnikov of an essay the would-be murderer wrote as a college student; the essay suggests a slight perversion of the Great Man theory--that great men use their power, be it charisma, intelligence, political and military wits, what have you, to transcend conventions and change the world. So, we come to understand, Raskolnikov's act of murder is a test of his own greatness (though he simultaneously thinks himself a slug). But, ultimately, crushed with guilt, self-doubt, and facing inevitable arrest, Raskolnikov confesses and begins his sentence in Siberia. Among other things, Crime and Punishment dives into Dostoyevsky's personal philosophy that suffering and degradation bring salvation. The novel turns on our ideas of law, crime, morality, reason, and society and the individual. It asks, What is the difference between the man who transgresses boundaries to achieve his ambitions and the man who defies conventions to achieve greatness? Notes:
One of the most noted events in Fyodor Dostoyevsky's
biography is his 1849 arrest for his association with some liberal
utopians; he was condemned to death, but then spared moments before his
execution and re-sentenced to four years' hard labour in Siberia. He
later traveled through Europe, but developed epilepsy and a nasty
gambling addiction. Hard times followed, but also some great literature.
Besides exploring universal themes, Fyodor Dostoyevsky's novels are also
very Russian, set in 19th-century Russia during the nation's
never-ending, clumsy push to modernize.
"Yesterday, I would have been afraid. But today I feel like John Wayne
with my husband and the whole US Cavalry behind him. I'm more precious
than all the gold in Fort Knox and you all are yesterday's news."
One of the great dramas in modern American music is the feud and history between Dave Mustaine and Metallica. Mustaine played lead guitar in Metallica's original lineup and even wrote a share of the songs that launched that band's massive, successful career. But personality conflicts led Lars and James to fire Mustaine just as the band was breaking out. Mustaine went on to form Megadeth, also huge, but only half as successful as Metallica in terms of record sales. In all this, Mustaine established himself as a primary figure in the development and growth of American thrash metal, and will go down as a one of metal and hard rock's most influential guitarists. The elegantly titled Mustaine is the muscian's autobiography. He can write it now because Megadeth ceased being relevant and dangerous a while back and Mustaine himself has emerged from the reckless rock-star life a born-again Christian and music businessman. Of course, he's certainly capable of reinventing himself and surprising us; it just seems more and more unlikely that he'll do so. The following does the man a great injustice, but the fast and dirty Mustaine is this: He grew up poor in an unstable family with an alcoholic father; his mother moved him around a lot to escape the dad's influence, but this influenced Dave such that he grew into a misfit; the experiences impaired his ability to form lasting, healthy friendships; he started getting into music and rock bands, eventually seeing real potential with Metallica; but personality conflicts and alcohol soured his relationship with the band and they kicked him out; so Mustaine built Megadeth, and with them (and their various lineups) he lived the rock star's life, colored with bitterness. His whole life he's felt broken, more or less, and in need of fixing. His breakup with Metallica left him bitter and jealous. After multiple stints in rehab, he found Christ and has sustained living a more wholesome life as a father and husband. He intends to maintain a musical career in some form or fashion On playing guitar and finding music:
I was pretty good at playing guitar, and I was serious about making a living at it. But that wasn't the only reason I played. It wasn't only about strutting an getting laid and trying to become famous. When I held a guitar in my hands, I felt good about myself. When I played music, I felt a sense of comfort and accomplishment that I'd never known as a child. When I replicated the songs that I loved, I felt an attachment to them and to the musicians who had composed them.
On setting off with Metallica:
It was all incredibly exciting and disorienting and vaguely unsettling. We'd been starving for days, and all of a sudden people were throwing food at us. I remember looking at myself in a mirror when I woke up one morning and noticing that my stomach was grotesquely distended. Of course, that could have had something to do with the fact that I was drunk or stoned virtually every waking moment. The party never stopped. Booze, cocaine, pot, meth--it was everywhere, and it was mine for the asking. Along with groupies, the quality and volume of which seemed to be improving by the day. We'd do an appearance or a gig, or just show up at a party, and everyone wanted to hang with us.
"You're a bad motherfucker!" they'd shout.
I'd nod approvingly. I was a bad motherfucker. And proud of it
On a period when Metallica was living and rehearsing at a space in Queens, New York City:
We'd wake up in the middle of the day, eat, drink a little bit to take the edge off the hangover, hang out, and then go back to sleep. sometime after sundown we'd wake again, like a pack of fucking vampires, and start playing. We'd rehearse for a few hours, then drink until we passed out. The next day we'd do it all over again.
On the events leading up to his being fired from Metallica:
Certainly I had no idea that my tenure in the band was about to come to an end, and that indeed plans for my dismissal were already in the works. It is a testament to my naivete--or perhaps to my alcohol-induced complacency--that even as strange things happened, I failed to take any action.
On his jealousy and bitterness about Metallica:
I know some people look at me--and I include Lars and James in this camp--and say, "Why can't you just be happy with what you've achieved?" And they're right. Selling twenty million albums is no minor accomplishment. But it's about half what Metallica has sold, and I was supposed to be part of that.
You had to be there to understand what it was like, to feel like you're changing the world. And then to have it pulled out from under you and to see and hear reminders of what might have been every single day, for the rest of your life. And know--you just fucking know--whatever you accomplish, somehow it will never be quite good enough.
On Megadeth's eventually watering down and becoming more single/pop-oriented:
I wanted a number one hit. I wanted what Metallica had, even if it meant selling a piece of my soul to the devil ... I suspected they (the producers) were making modifications, softening the Megadeth sound, and I did nothing to stop them. There would be a payoff at the end, I reasoned ... Megadeth was a phenomenon based on raw energy and talent, and when you take that and water it down, it's no longer phenomenal. It's ordinary. By trying to expand your audience, you risk alienating your core fans, and I think we did that with Cryptic Writings, and even more so with our next record, the aptly named Risk.
In this tidy one-volume history, Pierre Goubert fairly encapsulates the social, political, and economic evolution of France, from the blurry edges of the monarchy in 987 to the present (about 1980). More fluid and narratively organized than a textbook, but too sweeping to fit neatly with most modern nonfiction historical works, The Course of French History maintains enough momentum to avoid drying out, but never approaches being a page-turner. Goubert, who has done his research, tempers and delivers his own informed judgements passively. This volume suits anyone doing independent study of French, European, or
even World History, giving you all the basics with just a taste of the details. 
