That's Mister Peeps to You!
Listening to audio-books has definitely impacted my opportunity to indulge my love of music, but hearing books is also gripping. A headset by the bed helps to make up for some of the lost music during bedtime reading.
I'm now including the "listening-reading" with the conventional sort in my reading log, on the basis that "reading" does not demand eyestrain and my actual literacy and vocabulary are not at issue. For what it's worth, the time invested is likely comparable, and one could argue (as one chum already has) that hearing the words may even be more influential in some ways than reading them. Unquestionably, hearing words is different from reading them; whether more or less influential, the jury is still out. For better or worse, a "read" and a "heard" book will from now on be on a par in my reading log.
Listening so far has been a great experience. It's been mostly non-fiction for some reason, a smattering of political and philosophical stuff, but mainly historical - big events like Johnstown Flood and Krakatoa and a potpourri of other items, dictated largely in this case (vs. "real" reading) by happenstance in browsing the stacks at the library. Come to think of it, much as it used to be in my youth on those great occasions when I got to browse the UW bookstore. I delight in the "aha" aspect, somewhat like the used bookstore random encounter, but purposeful audio search is on the horizon.
I just finished listening to an abbreviated version of Samuel Pepys' Diary (standard pronunciation is "peeps"; timely, eh?). I believe I first became aware of the existence of this diary a few years back, possibly from reading The Professor and the Madman. But this was a classic random encounter. I had no idea whether I would be able to get into this dusty business, but was keenly aware that it is one of the seminal documents for English history in what I gather is called the Restoration (I'm no historian). The diary covers something like 1661-1669. The complete written version goes on I gather for five to ten volumes. Had I been faced with that on the shelf, we'd never have met. What I heard was definitely an excerpt, though something like nine hours worth, and it was certainly not a case of love at first listen.
Samuel Pepys is a character that cannot help but fascinate you. I don't think I can honestly recommend taking on a bookshelf's worth of his diary, but if you can find a more modest encounter, I highly recommend it. It's a flannel-to-fancy suit story in an epochal period in England for one thing. This dude transforms from a lowly critter (admittedly at diary start he is resident in the house of a gentilhomme, not actually collecting dog-leavings) to a member of the Royal Society, a worth of thousands of pounds, and kudos from royalty along the lines of "never heard a better speech." While we are appropriately cynical regarding the remarks of politicians, I am still enough of an over-the-rainbow guy to think that this meant a lot in the case of our Peeps - oops - Pepys.
But there are also fascinating dark aspects to the diary. Mr. P, no doubt pretty representative of his society, was quite the scalawag (he was in early 30's in diary period, I believe). He covers his tracks with fascinating polyglot material. Hearing this weird stuff, obviously x-rated, reminded me of the terrific final Molly erotica in Joyce's Ulysses (but why is that something I have an audio memory of - could it be Firesign Theatre??) The listener/reader can have no doubt that he is a philanderer. Yet he's enraged when his wife is intrigued with her dance instructor and terminates the lessons. He repeatedly lies about his personal assignations, but is forced more than once to thoroughly shame himself in apology, and yet feels compelled to pursue his amour again. Quite the Peyton Place.
And then there is the business of Business as it was carried out back in the 17th Century. I found it astonishing how often what seemed conventional business transactions expected of a representative of the government were accompanied by big-time payoffs to Mr. Pepys (and presumably others in comparable roles). There is one element of his activity, connected with spoils from captured Dutch vessels (likely high-value cargo like nutmeg and clove, this being the heyday of the Dutch East Indies trade) that does eventually subject Pepys to criticism and court action. But in general, from what I understood, this was an environment that cried out for an Upton Sinclair. Not to mention regulatory oversight.
The diary includes a great mix of bureaucratic ho-hum and true sturm-und-drang. Mr. Pepys does an awful lot of "up betimes and to the office all morning, working on my accounts," but on the other hand the diary covers a period that included a nasty plague as well as a horrendous fire that destroyed good chunks of London. Not to mention the on-and-off-again wars with the Dutch - and that garrison in Tangiers was quite a project too.
Highly recommended if you have a yen or even tolerance for history or just a willingness to try something different. Mr. Pepys' diary is one of the primary exhibits I gather that documents a key period in the evolution of the British Navy.
A few links:
Wikipedia's main Samuel Pepys entry, which includes links to diary text.
"The Diary of Samuel Pepys" website.
The Project Gutenberg's Pepys holdings.
I'm now including the "listening-reading" with the conventional sort in my reading log, on the basis that "reading" does not demand eyestrain and my actual literacy and vocabulary are not at issue. For what it's worth, the time invested is likely comparable, and one could argue (as one chum already has) that hearing the words may even be more influential in some ways than reading them. Unquestionably, hearing words is different from reading them; whether more or less influential, the jury is still out. For better or worse, a "read" and a "heard" book will from now on be on a par in my reading log.
Listening so far has been a great experience. It's been mostly non-fiction for some reason, a smattering of political and philosophical stuff, but mainly historical - big events like Johnstown Flood and Krakatoa and a potpourri of other items, dictated largely in this case (vs. "real" reading) by happenstance in browsing the stacks at the library. Come to think of it, much as it used to be in my youth on those great occasions when I got to browse the UW bookstore. I delight in the "aha" aspect, somewhat like the used bookstore random encounter, but purposeful audio search is on the horizon.
I just finished listening to an abbreviated version of Samuel Pepys' Diary (standard pronunciation is "peeps"; timely, eh?). I believe I first became aware of the existence of this diary a few years back, possibly from reading The Professor and the Madman. But this was a classic random encounter. I had no idea whether I would be able to get into this dusty business, but was keenly aware that it is one of the seminal documents for English history in what I gather is called the Restoration (I'm no historian). The diary covers something like 1661-1669. The complete written version goes on I gather for five to ten volumes. Had I been faced with that on the shelf, we'd never have met. What I heard was definitely an excerpt, though something like nine hours worth, and it was certainly not a case of love at first listen.
Samuel Pepys is a character that cannot help but fascinate you. I don't think I can honestly recommend taking on a bookshelf's worth of his diary, but if you can find a more modest encounter, I highly recommend it. It's a flannel-to-fancy suit story in an epochal period in England for one thing. This dude transforms from a lowly critter (admittedly at diary start he is resident in the house of a gentilhomme, not actually collecting dog-leavings) to a member of the Royal Society, a worth of thousands of pounds, and kudos from royalty along the lines of "never heard a better speech." While we are appropriately cynical regarding the remarks of politicians, I am still enough of an over-the-rainbow guy to think that this meant a lot in the case of our Peeps - oops - Pepys.
But there are also fascinating dark aspects to the diary. Mr. P, no doubt pretty representative of his society, was quite the scalawag (he was in early 30's in diary period, I believe). He covers his tracks with fascinating polyglot material. Hearing this weird stuff, obviously x-rated, reminded me of the terrific final Molly erotica in Joyce's Ulysses (but why is that something I have an audio memory of - could it be Firesign Theatre??) The listener/reader can have no doubt that he is a philanderer. Yet he's enraged when his wife is intrigued with her dance instructor and terminates the lessons. He repeatedly lies about his personal assignations, but is forced more than once to thoroughly shame himself in apology, and yet feels compelled to pursue his amour again. Quite the Peyton Place.
And then there is the business of Business as it was carried out back in the 17th Century. I found it astonishing how often what seemed conventional business transactions expected of a representative of the government were accompanied by big-time payoffs to Mr. Pepys (and presumably others in comparable roles). There is one element of his activity, connected with spoils from captured Dutch vessels (likely high-value cargo like nutmeg and clove, this being the heyday of the Dutch East Indies trade) that does eventually subject Pepys to criticism and court action. But in general, from what I understood, this was an environment that cried out for an Upton Sinclair. Not to mention regulatory oversight.
The diary includes a great mix of bureaucratic ho-hum and true sturm-und-drang. Mr. Pepys does an awful lot of "up betimes and to the office all morning, working on my accounts," but on the other hand the diary covers a period that included a nasty plague as well as a horrendous fire that destroyed good chunks of London. Not to mention the on-and-off-again wars with the Dutch - and that garrison in Tangiers was quite a project too.
Highly recommended if you have a yen or even tolerance for history or just a willingness to try something different. Mr. Pepys' diary is one of the primary exhibits I gather that documents a key period in the evolution of the British Navy.
A few links:
Wikipedia's main Samuel Pepys entry, which includes links to diary text.
"The Diary of Samuel Pepys" website.
The Project Gutenberg's Pepys holdings.
posted by Sir Gumbo at 10:32 PM
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