David Marshall. Model Railroad Engineering (1942)

      David Marshall. Model Railroad Engineering (1942) Marshall was the model railway editor for Popular Science. This tome (there’s really no other word for it) is long on words and short on practical instructions, let alone useful illustrations. There are a number of b/w photos of various layouts, identified as Scene on XYZ’s layout, which isn’t particularly useful. In the chapter on layout design, Marshall offers diagrams of yards, but none of actual layouts. The chapter on building rolling stock describes the process in terms that assume technical knowledge and skill in the reader. Yet the chapter on signalling is a detailed entry-level discussion of the whys and wherefores, with entry-level descriptions on how to build them.
     To put it mildly, there is a lack of balance. One could argue excuse on the grounds that the art of technical writing for amateurs hadn’t yet developed very far, and the cost of sufficient illustrations would have been prohibitive. But there was already Henry Greenly’s book (published well over ten years earlier) as an example, Model Railroader had already established its style of integrating illustration and text, and Model Engineering had shown how to write clear instructions.
     Then there’s Marshall’s style, grasp of subject, and sense of audience. He gushes, writing a mixture of plain direct address to the reader and arch allusions. He delivers himself of magisterial pronouncements about what one must always or must never do. He has built a model railway (with his children, as it turns out), and clearly speaks from experience, but he often forgets that many of his readers will be approaching his book as rank beginners. He casual references to room sizes and prices make it quite clear that he has no idea of how little money most model railroaders then (and now) could spend on their hobby. His grasp of engineering principles is generally elementary, and hazy when he gets beyond that level. And so on.
     And yet his book has a certain charm. The very defects that exasperate also engage. There’s a definite personality, which is rare in technical writing. Marshall is enthusiastic, and his enthusiasm inspires. His assumptions show that he thinks of a model railroad as a representation of the real thing. He doesn’t quote Frank Ellison (although he alludes to the Delta Lines), but clearly stands in debt to him. His chapter on track planning shows that he thinks in terms of designing the layout as a whole, with the aim of operating it realistically. Every theme of modern layout design and operation is touched on in this book. But Marshall seems incapable of making his assumptions explicit, and so much of what he says would be meaningless to anyone who is not a model railroader. ** (2004)

Beverly Nichols. A Case of Human Bondage (1966)

     Beverly Nichols. A Case of Human Bondage (1966) A spiteful narrative of Somerset Maugham’s marriage, ostensibly written to defend Vivienne against the attacks in Maugham’s autobiography. Nichols never names homosexuality, but it’s implied everywhere, and there’s no doubt that Maugham’s bisexuality was the root cause of the horror that was his marriage. There’s also no doubt that Maugham was a monster, but the people around him supported his egomania and cruelty, and Nichols’ protestations of sympathy for Vivienne Maugham ring more than a bit hollow. I didn’t finish this book, got about 3/4 through it, and had had enough even before then. (2004)

Henry Petroski. Small Things Considered (2003)

      Henry Petroski. Small Things Considered (2003) Petroski, an engineer with a flair for both history and writing, has done a number of books on the art that we call engineering. His best known book perhaps is To Engineer is Human, a discussion of engineering failures, both of their specific reasons and the general problem faced by all engineers, that they can’t always predict precisely enough how structures will behave. Here, he applies the same point of view to design in general, with the constant theme that design entails compromise, and that therefore no design is perfect. Several of the chapters originally appeared as magazine pieces; others read suspiciously like lectures revised for reading. All in all, the book has a cobbled-together feel, a design flaw that Petroski would no doubt acknowledge.
      His last chapter ends with a reminder that engineers cannot make perfect devices, that failure is inevitable, and that therefore the non-engineering public that uses the products of engineering design must be neither too demanding nor too complacent. Good points, but it doesn’t take a whole book to make them. So, although any one chapter in this book is a pleasure to read, I can’t recommend reading the whole thing at one sitting, unless of course one wants to know all about the many small things whose design history Petroski traces, from pizza savers to chairs. In other words, a book to keep as a reference, perhaps. **½ (2004)

Roger Frary. Laughter in Church (1965)

     Roger Frary. Laughter in Church (1965) Frary tells good anecdotes, amusing, but not knee slappers, all more or less based on his own experience. He occasionally labours to generate his humour, employing too much arch irony, but on the whole he avoids the deadly trap of dressing up the amusing in ornate vocabulary, a failing committed by many writers who want to demonstrate that they can laugh at serious subjects. Fay gave me this book, too; she found it on the Library discard shelf. ** (2004)

Gerard Hoffnung. The Hoffnung Music Festival (1956)

     Gerard Hoffnung. The Hoffnung Music Festival (1956) One of a series of enchanting little books of Hoffnung cartoons. Hoffnung had an eye for the foibles and quirks of humanity, and the skill to translate them into line. He also has great affection for his fellow fools, and a great appreciation of the womanly form, especially the more robust type; no admirer of androgyny, he. The drawing in which a conductor sketches a naked lady in midair shows this beautifully. But Hoffnung’s earthiness is coupled with an engaging innocence; his allusions to sex are playful and joyous, never prurient. Fay gave me this little book; it will stand with the much-read and -worn volumes in which other Hoffnung cartoons are collected. **** (2004)

Movie Reviews

I've added several posts to Movie Reviews 1.

The Lion King (Theatre review)

     The Lion King (2000) An awesome show. The story is simple, archetypal, and of course somewhat more sentimental than it needs to be. But as a play it works much better than as an animated movie. Why this should be so is hard to decide. The music is much the same, the characters are much the same. But live actors pretending to be animals, masked and costumed in semi-abstract style, choreographed to mimic the animals’ movements, and so on: these things impress far more than animated special effects.
     Perhaps it’s the body-language, which on stage must be abstracted, simplified, exaggerated, and therefore very clear. Perhaps it’s the costumes and masks and puppet-like structures worn by the actors. We were always aware that someone was acting the role, and perhaps that’s the real reason for the effect – the connection with a real, live person, one who talks directly to the audience. We participate in a live show in a way we can’t possibly participate in a screened one. No matter how interactive the games become, it’s still just shadows on a glass, while the live actor, the live, right-now voice, the actor’s working with the audience, not for the audience (the camera), these things make for an immediacy that’s new every time.
     I didn’t want to go to this show at first, since the Disney label is for me not a recommendation. But I was wrong. This show is very, very good theatre. **** (2002)
     Update 2013: The show is being revived, and will be coming to Toronto. Go see it.