A horse (or Houyhnhnm, if you like) threading a needle.
That is the image that I’ll take with me from my time in Houyhnhnm Land.
And with that, I finished the book. (Just to let you know.)
Swann’s Way, next, eh? Well, give me some time before we start, I have to set things up so that I can write my posts while laying in bed and I have to perfect my madeliene recipe. Oh, and I need to get a copy of the book.
Enjoy the rest of your Travels,
Justin
…Or Everything I Needed to Know I Learned on Balnibarbia
Ahh…my old friend science. How I’ve missed you.
Whether it was Mr. Wizard teaching us lessons of static electricity with a balloon or Dr. Julius Sumner Miller demonstrating some of the wonders of basic chemistry in what appeared to be a empty basement, I’ve always been intrigued and confounded by that conflicting mistress, Science.
So, needless to say, (but say it I shall) I really got a kick out of the Part III of Gulliver’s Travels. Particularly Lemmy’s trip to the Balnibarbian Academy.
I particularly enjoyed the Scientist working to extract sunlight from cucumbers.
It reminded me of the time you claimed to have created matter in your submission for The Jeffryes Family Science Jamboree of 1995, and I was like “That’s impossible it’s a little thing called the The Law of Conservation of Mass,” and you were all like “Uhh, I think it was more of a suggestion.”
And then I won the Golden Beaker for my jaw droppingly astounding funnel cloud formed in two 2-liter bottles taped togehter. (Still stings, doesn’t it?)
I also found Glubbdubdrib to bear a striking resemblance to Colonial Williamsburg. Think about, you can talk to historical all-stars, but you can only questions about their own contemporary issues.
Well, I am now onto Houyhnhnm Land. Let me tell, it give me a whole knew appreciation for the alienation that Mr. Ed, Francis the Talking Mule, and Don (the talking horse from everyone’s favorite 1988 talking horse comedy Hot to Trot) must of felt as they came to grips with our language and culture.
I am probably only a day or two away from being done with the book. How’s about you?
Justin
I have a new found respect for one, Lemuel Gulliver. I recently spent some time on the high seas myself. Admittedly, I was on a brief Lighthouse Tour of coastal Maine as opposed to the long exploratory voyages of Mr. Gulliver, but I am feeling a special kinship with your fictional friend.
Here are some lessons I learned from the sea:
1. “Sea Swell” does not mean “the sea is great.” It actually means: “Don’t get on the boat.”
2. Fear the seagulls. (They out number us on the water, and I think they know it.)
3. Don’t love anything too much.
Here is a picture of my maiden voyage. Do not let the pristine blue sky decieve, the seas were rough and briny that day, my friend. Notice the wave induced angle at which the picture is taken (the lighthouse is not, IS NOT, I say supposed to be at an angle):
I like your thought of bringing back the literary adaptation to network television. (If the BBC can do, why can’t we?) Here’s a literary adaptation I think we’ve all been waiting for:
Jane Eyre starring Ms. Fran Drescher. We’ve seen her as The Nanny now see her as THE nanny. In a fun bit of stunt casting Charles O’Shaughnessy could play Mr. Rochester and Lauren Lane could play Bertha Rochester.
Whatcha think?
Justin
I am still mired on the wee island of Lilliput. It seems as much as I want it to Gulliver’s Travels will just not read itself. The funny part is (some might even call it “a hoot”) is that I really like the book.
Your assessment of the book to this point seems a bit, shall we say, lukewarm. But come now, Twinner, what’s funnier than microscopic people, biting satire, sea voyages, and, who can forget, poo jokes.
What’s not to like?
Well, as I continue to extend my stay on Lilliput, I’ve been giving some thought to the question, “What would I do if I were Lilliputian?” Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:
1.) Start saying: “I will tell you where you can ‘Lilli-Put-it.’”
2.) Sleep in a matchbox.
3.) Look for The Littles.
4.) Paint. (I’ve always wanted to paint.)
The list could go on and on and on. Well, the list could go on and on and on if I were feeling a little more creative, but to be honest I think I pulled my creativity muscle fishing out that The Littles reference.
Now I need a nap, and, you know, to actually read the book.
Justin
You know when you start talking about Big Brother it’s like you go from sensical English to some gibberish-based language that I cannot make heads or tails of. For example you say:
“Give the nominee a chance to win the power of veto.”
I hear:
“Gibbidly-knock blah-blah ting booooonnnng burffidy thwap.”
So you can imagine my confusion. Perhaps instead of watching voyeuristic “reality” television you should be spending some quality time with Herr Glocken, La Condesa, and the crew (literally, the crew) and reading some Ship of Fools.
I’ve been enjoying some non-SOF reading. Here’s a sample from Holmes on the Range by Steve Hockensmith:
“Uly needed a windmill water pump fixed, and my brother stepped up to say he and I knew windmills like the back of our hands–which would have been true had our hands been something we saw only on occasion, and then from a distance.”
See, don’t you wish you were done reading Ship of Fools too?
Justin
Fear not Twin Brother, you are not alone in your confusion over the definition of irony. For a cinematic explanation may I recommend 1999’s Teaching Mrs. Tingle wherein a sadly misused Helen Mirren chides her captors on their inappropriate use of the word irony. (And, believe me, the concise explanation of irony is the only reason to watch that terrible, terrible movie.)
That should clear up any questions you have.
Let me just say, when Katherine Anne Porter decides to end a voyage, she really decides to end it. After describing the minutiae of every going on from the poop deck to the writing room and every internal, external, spiritual, emotional, physical, metaphysical, verbal and nonverbal happening she goes from a First Class bacchanal to an all but empty ship in about 10 pages.
That being said, I am done with the book, and, boy, is it good to be back on literary dry land, and as much as I am going to miss Bebe, that lovable seasick bulldog, I cannot say I will greatly miss any of the other characters.
Okay, now it’s time to start thinking about the next book we’ll read next. After hours of pondering (and by that I mean, I went and randomly pulled a book on my bookshelf) and the winner is Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels.
I believe this book reports on several sea voyages by one Lemuel Gulliver. Looks like we’ll be exchanging Ship of Fools for the ships of a fool. (Your never going to believe this, but I just made that up right on the spot.)
Well, let me know when you’re done, and we can get going on Gulliver. Until then I will be reading Thomas Pynchon’s Inherent Vice.
Yours in books,
Justin
I have to admit…I sort of forgot who’s turn it was to post.
Over the last few days, as I’ve been industriously reading away at Ship of Fools, I’ve been logging onto the blog looking at the number of posts, statistics, etc, and each day I’ve been wondering what has been taking you so long to get on the ball and add your latest thoughts. Well, today, I actually logged onto the blog itself, and lo and behold it was actually my turn to post. (Not only that, but you had posted twice!)
Well, egg on my face.
Anyway, I have been reading away like a mad man, I’m now about exactly half through the book and (**Spoiler Alert**) they’re still on the boat. In fact, I think they’ve traveled roughly 5 miles in the last 60 pages…at this rate they should reach Bremerhaven by roughly page 1376.
Anyway in my reading, I’ve noticed something funny. Do you realize how almost every conversation the characters have is full of profound, philosophical statements. As a study in contrasts look at a recent conversation that you and I had compared to a snippet of a conversation from the book.
Jon: Hey, how’s it going.
Justin: Not too shabby. How about yourself?
Jon: Oh, I’d rate myself one step above okey-dokey.
Justin: Super-Duper.
Jon: Yup, yup, yup.
Now here’s the level of conversation on the boat:
“No,” said Jenny, “to be unfaithful once is to be unfaithful once, and you can be repentant and get back in the fold just like an old-fashioned Methodist. I used to have a lover…who always said he never realized how much he loved me except when he was being unfaithful to me. There’s a flaw in that doctrine…but I was never able to convince him.” (168)
In response:
“Love, he said, was a benevolent passion, full of patient kindness and fostering tenderness, faithful not by choice nor design but by nature, hardy and lasting, full of courage.” (168)
And this is a conversation between two people who have just met. Not since Pacey met Dawson have two characters fallen so easily into philosophical (and verbose) conversation.
Well, enough about that. Back to the boat.
Justin
That, Twinner, is an interesting question you pose:
Who is my favorite character?
After giving this much thought, making a thorough review of the 177 pages I’ve read so far, and revisiting the handy-dandy roster of characters in the front portion of the book, I have come to this conclusion:
Bebe.
That’s right, the Hutten’s seasick bulldog.
I can identify with his inability to gather his bearings, his desire to please, and his occasional bouts of seasickness. That and the dog is really the only character I can accurately remember in this sea of Fraus and Herrs, Captains, and Doctors.
Ship of Fools is sort of the novelistic equivalent of a Where’s Waldo illustration. Only, I don’t know who Waldo is or what he looks like, and he’s not wearing his eye-catching stocking cap. Each page is packed with so much detail (some enlightening, some extraneous) that I don’t know what I am supposed to be taking away from each episode.
But that’s my problem and not yours.
Amid the ocean of detail I did come across what perhaps has been my favorite line in the book so far:
“Stop tying everything up in your neat little bowknots!”
The funny thing is, I say the exact same thing when I get frustrated.
Justin
Thank you for that trip down memory lane with your colorful invocation of the Annual Mother’s Tea. I remember many an afternoon practicing polkas and other traditional dances. I remember my moving rendition of “Heel and Toe, and Away We Go” brought a tear to many eye.
Perhaps, I missed my true calling in life. I could have had quite the career as a professional folk dancing. I could have done for folk dancing what Beyonce has done for pop music.
I have a Ship of Fools-related confession to make. Ever since you’ve picked this title, I read the title and I instantly think of Mr T saying “I pity this Ship of Fools.” From there it went to imaging Mr. T summarizing key plot points (e.g. “I pity the fool who takes a boat from Veracruz to Bremerhaven” or “I pity the fool who forced La Condesa into exile”).
But now, it’s gotten a bit out of out hand, I now imagine Mr. T’s voice reading the entire book. This has lead me to two thoughts:
1.) I spend a lot of time while reading this book pitying fools.
2.) Mr T. should think of a second career as an audiobook performer. (In my imagining his reading of Mrs. Treadwell is absolutely heartbreaking.)
Well, I best get back to the Ship. Here’s wishing you smooth sailing.
Justin
Hold on, I will give you a second to contain yourself after you no doubt started laughing hysterically at my clever play on words in the title of this post…
Okay, then.
Unlike certain people I have not shirked my reading responsibilities. I made a date with Katherine Anne Porter the other night, and by golly (by golly, I say!) I stuck to it.
Now, if I were going to use a single word to describe the prose stylings in the opening 20 pages or so it would: ornate. Apparently, Katherine Anne Porter never met an adjective she did not like. (And then use repeatedly to paint lush word pictures of the port city, Veracruz.)
The highlight of the first 20 pages had to be the 2-3 page digression as we follow a dog, cat, and parrot on the streets of Veracruz. Not since Tweety, Sylvester, and Hector (Hector, apparently being the Looney Tunes Bulldog’s name) have I been so entertained by a fictional group of pets.
Anyway, I am now on vacation for a week, so perhaps I will have time to both read and be more creative in my posting.
Justin
