The Merry Wives Of Windsor – William Shakespeare, c. 1597 ★★½

Forced Farce Still Amuses

Farce does not age like fine wine or mahogany furniture. But it can still draw a chuckle with the right mindset. Part of that involves some grounding in the material; more depends on not expecting too much.

With The Merry Wives Of Windsor, I find I enjoy it more accepting that it is a minor work. Critics do rate it fairly low in William Shakespeare’s oeuvre, a royal command sketch best known for its title and the way it uses (or misuses) Falstaff, one of comedy’s great characters.

All in all, though, as weak plays go, it’s actually not bad. It is chock full of loose ends and bad puns, yet it does put on an entertaining and diverting show, the final goal.

2001: A Space Odyssey – Arthur C. Clarke, 1968 ★★★★

Life, the Universe & Everything

Usually seeing the movie helps me figure out the book. Here it’s the other way around.

Published in 1968, the same year as the movie of the same name, 2001: A Space Odyssey is Arthur C. Clarke’s fictionalization of how man might at last unravel the mystery of his being – and his purpose.

In the process, Clarke does indeed unlock an even more imponderable mystery – just what is going on in that Stanley Kubrick movie.

The Silent Clowns – Walter Kerr, 1975 ★★★★

Flickers of Glory

Greatness has a habit of arranging itself in sets of three. From the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to Willie, Mickey, and the Duke, it seems atavistic. Not sure if it’s safe to count the U. S. government anymore, but there are three branches of that, too.

Three also rule the world of silent film comedy: Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd. In The Silent Clowns, legendary culture pundit Walter Kerr explains why the trio came to dominate in a way that still resonates decades after sound and punchlines took over.

Work Suspended – Evelyn Waugh, 1942 ★½

Not Ready for Prime Time

When I gravitate to a particular author, I can find something worthwhile in nearly anything they have written. The more obscure, the more potential to surprise or even flatter me by revealing something I can briefly fancy no one else ever noticed or appreciated.

Even a work that is boring or unpleasant to read, or obviously flawed, may reveal aspects of the author a better book will not, like stylistic quirks or habitual framing devices you don’t notice as much when a ripping yarn or brilliant descriptions soak up all your attention.

Landscape Turned Red: The Battle Of Antietam – Stephen W. Sears, 1983 ★★★★½

Playing Rope-A-Dope with “Tardy George”

Sometimes it takes a setback to produce victory, a nasty punch in the nose that restores focus and the will to win. It can even be a simple matter of attaining purity of purpose through suffering.

Still, if sounds unpleasant, that’s because it is. Such was the American Civil War’s bloodiest single day, the Battle of Antietam, presented here in a book that is equal parts morality play and combat story.