Disney Starwars: Çizim Kitabı kitap serbest oDF biçim

Brad Rhodes bradrhodes — I read the unabridged edition. And oh my god, the tedium. The only character I was interested in (Queequeg) was practically absent form the book after the first 18 chapters, and I just...I couldn't bring myself to CARE about Ahab or his stupid whale. The asides on whales and whaling were snore-inducing. This was the book that had me convinced for years (until I found O'Brian) that books about Things That Happen On Boats are really written for men who enjoy manly allusive navel-gazing, and that women have more interesting things to talk about. Gah, whale. And yet, I do love parts of it. I do. It's just that what interests Melville is fundamentally not what interests me.

Phạm Hương cobonla7887d0 — This is one of my all time favorites.

Ineta Plytnykiene _neta_ — Covers a lot of the same material as Personal History, but definitely worth reading.

Lucas Olmeta olmetalucabdc1 — Published in 1937, George Orwell’s The Road to Wigan Pier documents the grinding poverty of northern England, namely Lancashire and Yorkshire. As with Orwell’s better-known and somewhat similar Down and Out in Paris and London, the author sets out to investigate the conditions of the poor by living among them and writing about his experiences. There is a chapter on coal miners and mines, and Orwell elucidates on the culture and mechanics of the industry; he goes down a mine to report, taking the reader with him. Orwell discusses unemployment (how it’s misunderstood, etc.) and touches on how the upper classes view the lower ones. That, more or less, makes for Part One, which I found engaging from a historical perspective as much as anything. It’s meant to be a socioeconomic investigation (a description, a testimony), but because it’s 75 years old, it’s become a historical document. Part One isn’t as lively or vivid as sections of Down and Out, perhaps because there’s little dialogue and it lacks that diary-of-life-in-the-gutter quality. The conditions Orwell describes are awful, but, comparatively, there is a sense of detachment in the way he communicates them. In Part Two, Orwell gears down, going from documentary to dissertation, and though historical, this part is timeless. “The English class system has outlived its usefulness,” is the message he wants us to take from Part One, so what’s the solution? The most obvious answer is socialism, but is socialism really the medicine society needs to take? The section about machine-worship notwithstanding (time has proven Orwell, and probably many others, wrong about the future of machines and technology), Part Two makes for provocative, passionate, and insightful analysis. Anyone who’s ever given thought to class distinction, class conflict, exploitation, the plight of the working poor, or been drawn, if only momentarily, to socialism or its various forms (Marxism, communism, democratic socialism, etc.) ought to read this book, and carefully. Anybody who reads tracts like Terry Eagleton’s Why Marx was Right ought to read The Road to Wigan Pier immediately afterward. They should buy them together. In socialism, Orwell finds a few good, if loose, ideas, a lot of stupidity, and even more pretension. He lambasts its advocates, arguing they are out of touch with the proletarians they claim to venerate. Socialists are striking a blow at the bourgeoisie, yet they are the bourgeoisie. If a coal miner walked in on one of their meetings, they would feel, at the least, uncomfortable. Socialists hold that “poverty, and what is more, the habits of mind created by poverty, are something to be abolished from above, by violence if necessary; perhaps even preferably by violence.” Socialism is dogma, Orwell illustrates (without saying as much), arguing that it is not a mirror image of fascism, but a perverse form of it (a “travesty” is the word he uses). Though seemingly antipodean, the ideologies have much in common. If you travel far enough toward either end of the political spectrum, you end up as a blip on the opposite side. The attacks are scathing, and come in bunches. “We have got to admit that if Fascism is everywhere and advancing, this is largely the fault of Socialists themselves. Partly it is due to the mistaken Communist tactic of sabotaging democracy, i.e. sawing off the branch you are sitting on....” Moreover, Orwell says, Socialists “have never made it sufficiently clear that their essential aims are justice and liberty. With their eyes glued to economic facts, they have proceeded on the assumption that man has no soul, and explicitly or implicitly they have set up the goal of a materialistic Utopia.” The greatest excoriation, though it’s hard to choose, might be: “Socialism calls up, on the one hand, a picture of aeroplanes, tractors, and huge glittering factories of glass and concrete; on the other, a picture of vegetarians with wilting beards, of Bolshevik commissars (half gangster, half gramophone), of earnest ladies in sandals, shock-headed Marxists chewing polysyllables, escaped Quakers, birth-control fanatics and Labour Party backstairs-crawlers. Socialism, at least in this island, does not smell any longer of revolution and the overthrow of tyrants; it smells of crankishness, machine-worship and the stupid cult of Russia. Unless you can remove that smell, and very rapidly, Fascism may win.” And it very nearly did win. The prophetic nature of Orwell’s ideas is part of his perennial appeal. ‘But hey,’ interjects the modern-day far-leftie. ‘Orwell is talking about a brand of socialism that no longer exists. Socialism has changed.’ It has in some regards, but elements of the variety Orwell was talking about are still apparent. Democratic socialism is still championed by people from the middle class, it’s still dogmatic, and it still reveres “great” men who believe change must come from above. Socialism is often the final destination of the alienated. It is a mind-numbing religion for the non-religious, intellectual, middle class. They say a good book tells you what you already know (or suspect), and it’s probably for that reason I enjoyed this one so much. I live in one of Canada’s poorest cities, thoroughly blue collar. It’s hard not to look at the poor and start conjuring up ideas about social engineering. Give them an education, you think. Give them purpose. Break the cycle of generational poverty. I recently reread Marx and even voted for and joined Canada’s democratic socialist party, though I quickly wished I hadn’t. The rally I attended was dominated by “vegetarians with wilting beards” (or at least many of the local university’s bearded faculty), sixties’ activists, and “earnest ladies in sandals.” I was, quite frankly, put off by this, and by discussions in the crowd about the bright spots of the Soviet Union and a few of communism’s “great” men, the handing out of hammer-and-sickle adorned propaganda rags, etc. As Orwell writes, “the thinking person, by intellect usually left-wing but by temperament often right-wing, hovers at the gate of the Socialist fold. He is no doubt aware that he ought to be a Socialist. But he observes first the dullness of individual Socialists, then the apparent flabbiness of Socialist ideals, and veers away.” And none too soon. There is an intriguing aside to The Road to Wigan Pier. The book was commissioned by a publisher named Victor Gollancz, who wasn’t at all happy with Part Two and worried about the reactions of members of the Left Book Club, the organization that issued the book. Gollancz wrote a flaying, impassioned foreword, included in the modern Harcourt edition, where he attempts, lest the reader get the wrong impression, to take the edge off Orwell’s words. Gollancz apologizes to vegetarians, half-gangster commissars, and cranks, and says Orwell is “astray” and a “frightful snob.” Orwell doesn’t even define socialism, Gollancz whines; nor does he explain what he means by “liberty” and “justice.” The spirited “pretort,” if you will, ends with a figurative, if not literal, call to mobilize against the capitalistic enemy. The observant reader sees Gollancz’s foreword for what it is: a wretched attempt at censorship and damage control, and the very sort of empty rhetoric, hare-brained we-know-best thinking, and militant jingoism Orwell so skilfully obliterates. Troy Parfitt is the author of Why China Will Never Rule the World

Diana Ludin dianaludin — The Beginning of After is a slow paced novel that follows Laurel and her coming to terms with the loss of her family. Laurel was easy to like. She's ambitious, she has a great and supportive family, and she's a good person. We don't get to spend much time with her family and getting to know them before the accident, but we do get to know them through Laurel and how she remembers them. Castle does a great job of making you feel the grief that Laurel felt every time something reminded her of her parents or her brother and you couldn't help but just ache with her. I don't really know how to feel about David, I get that he's suffering too, just in his own way but what he said to Laurel after prom was just... wrong. But at the same time I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy too. Every scene with Masher got me. I'm such a sucker for dogs in books. There's not much else to say without giving away the story, but it's a great read about a girl who goes through a traumatic experience and how she heals.

Jodie Chen c_udie — The Nine Lives of Chloe King is about a teenage girl who learns she is a descendent of an ancient society made up of God - like beings. Specifically referred to as the Mai, this group of supernatural cat people are said to be the children of Sehkmet. Not only does Chloe discover that she isn't human she also learns that she is the Chosen One, a very special figure in her ancestral legacy. If this isn't overwhelming enough she finds herself at the top of the hit list for The Order of the Tenth Blade. As it turns out most humans aren't aware of the existence of the Mai but those who are aware are much less than enamored by them. Because of this Chloe is faced with danger around every corner she turns. Sometimes the danger is the eminenent threat of The Order of the Tenth Blade against her and sometimes the threat is the danger she herself poses against the human beings she has grown to love in her previously assumed human life. In this edition the author has bound together the three books in the series and I must say I enjoyed being able to jump straight from one installment to the next. It is well known that this series has been adapted for television. The first season has just wound down on ABC. The TV series and the book series similarities end with the basic plot (explained above). It is true that many of the same characters are present but they have been interpreted a tad differtly. There are a few characters that you will only find in the book and likewise, the TV series. I felt the characters personalities were more individual in the book and in some ways more complex (contrary to many reviews I read before reading the book myself). Personally, I enjoyed the book/s more than the TV series. Having said that, I still enjoy the TV series and look forward to seeing more. As a parent, teacher and a young adult writer I feel it necessary to raise a few red flags to parents in regards to recommending this book. First, the "F" word is used way more than is necessary. Second, there are several instances where the adult characters in the story allow and facilitate the consumption of alchohal by minors. Not including those exceptions, I felt the book was written with the young adult reader in mind. My overall impression of The Nine Lives of Chloe King was outstanding. It was engaging and creatively unique and I look forward to reading more books by this author. I give the Nine Lives of Chloe King 5 stars! Amy Jones, author of The Soul Quest Trilogy http://amyjonesyaff.blogspot.com http://www.soulquesttrilogy.com