E. V. Rieu. The Flattered Flying Fish (1962)

     E. V. Rieu. The Flattered Flying Fish (1962) Rieu is better known as a classical scholar and for his translations of the New Testament. These verses show him to have an ironic sensibility and a mildly satiric eye. Again, no memorable images or lines, but a pleasant and often funny read all the same. The illustrations by E H Shephard are more interesting than the verse. ** (2004)

Ronald Ferris. A Wing and a Prayer (1990)

     Ronald Ferris. A Wing and a Prayer (1990) A collection of verses by Bishop Ferris, written while he was in the Yukon. They range from the nice to the mildly arresting. Ferris has a knack for versifying, but tends to use too many adjectives. None of the verses offends against good taste, and none contains memorable imagery. For those who know Ferris, this pamphlet amounts to a memento of the man. * (2004)

Leonard Cohen. God is Alive, Magic is Afoot (2000)

     Leonard Cohen. God is Alive, Magic is Afoot (2000) Illustrated by Sarah Perkins and Ian Jackson. An excerpt from Beautiful Losers, designed to be pleasant to look at. The text is a pretext for paintings and clips from classical art, digitally combined and manipulated, apparently with the aim of extending the text. But the art never rises above the interesting, and most of it is high greeting card. “Tasteful” kitsch IOW.(2004)

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)