Diana - Story of a Princess by Tim Clayton and Phil Craig

The Brits put on a nice show at the Olympics, didn’t they, synthesizing all the elements that make this island nation so unique – at once both a bastion of European tradition, and at the avant-garde of the arts and social trends. The segment where the Queen parachutes in with the redoubtable 007 was especially appreciated for its co-mingling of royalty and cheeky humor. For after all, what could be more English than the Queen of England?

Though as intrigued as the rest of the world might plausibly be about a lifestyle that includes tiaras, gracious hand-waving, and ribbon-cutting, I’ve always been a little skeptical about books that purport to tell us about the Royals as they ‘really are’, more so when they are penned by British writers. Those have always seemed to be either fawning tributes, or bitchy exposés. The best biographies are extensively researched; unsparing in recounting the pertinent details of the subject’s life; impartial in their analysis; neutral in tone, yet insightful; offering readers a perspective that would have otherwise eluded them. Judging by these standards, Clayton and Craig’s chronicle of the late Princess Diana’s life is a decent read, though its sympathy seems slanted more toward the Royals than Diana.

As you might know if you have ever read about the battling Windsors, the press always chose a side when describing the tensions between Diana and her then-husband – Charles, Prince of Wales. Most of the time, Diana appeared to have won the war for the public’s support. The beautiful, well-coiffed Princess with her global do-gooder image, and mega-watt charisma just made better copy than the noticeably stiff and reserved Prince. As to the truth of their marriage, who really knows? If you believed Diana’s version, she was a loving, vulnerable woman whose heart was broken by her insensitive, philandering cad of a husband. The Prince’s vociferous supporters might say that she was a bottomless pit of insecurity whose incessant demands for attention would wear down the patience of a saint. What is evident to the reader is that the union was perforce doomed from the start with the pair’s uncompromising personalities, and their readiness to seek solace outside their marriage.

But apparently, it wasn’t just Charles with whom Diana had a falling-out. Clayton and Craig charge that Diana opened hostilities on the entire Royal family over their perceived lack of support, and their belittling of all that she strove to do. It was a family feud that played out before a captivated world audience, and when one side proceeded to spill the beans, the other didn’t want to be left behind. The paparazzi, sensing a free-for-all gleefully jumped into the fray, at which point nothing was sacred, least of all notions of privacy or personal dignity.

Diana, had very early on, started a dangerous flirtation with the Press, smitten with the idea of her own celebrity. Like a woman not understanding the consequences of encouraging an obsessive suitor, she showed particularly poor judgment in her dealings with the paparazzi. When the fracas got out of control, and Diana felt herself being hounded on all sides, she attempted a retreat from public life, which didn’t last too long. The last years of the Princess’s life and her tragic death make a sad story; but as to who was to bear the blame for that is left to the readers’ discernment.

So, who was Diana? Was she a self-promoting Princess of ‘Wails’, a drama queen in search of an audience, a loose cannon barreling down the corridors of power? Or was she the angel of mercy that many thought her to be, an instinctive humanitarian with a near magical ability to channel compassion, and an intuitive empathy for those in pain? In the course of her turbulent, all too short life, she played many roles. No doubt people will believe what they want to believe.

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson



Rating: 4 Stars

Americans place a high premium on ‘nice’. It’s a trait pointedly applauded when exhibited by movie stars, top-ranked athletes, and aspiring electoral candidates. One of the most popular films in the recent past has been ‘Forrest Gump’, in which Tom Hanks played the seraphically sweet titular hero, who, despite his sub-average intellect accomplishes one incredible success after another. Face it, this is a country where ‘over-achiever’ is not a compliment; unless the achievements are accompanied by an attitude of “Aw, shucks, it ain’t nuthin’”. Not that I have anything against ‘nice’, and ‘Forrest Gump’ is one of my favorite films. Realistically however, we know that greatness often goes hand in hand with glaring imperfections; that a good man need not be particularly agreeable; and, that ‘nice’ is just one quality among the pantheon of virtues.

That’s why I found the wave of articles about Steve Jobs immediately following his death needing a pinch of salt. Of course, the whole point of eulogies is to accentuate the positive, but these were wandering dangerously close to hagiology – gentle St. Steve of Silicon Valley. As such, they were at odds with earlier stories detailing his legendary short fuse, his hogging credit for the ideas of other people, and abusive tirades. Isaacson’s compassionate, yet candid biography sets the record straight. The author was understandably leery when Jobs approached him to write his life-story. At that time he was unaware of Jobs cancer prognosis, knew enough about him to be skeptical when he went on the charm offensive, and didn’t trust him to restrain his controlling impulses when it came to a depiction of his life. However, he found himself becoming intrigued with the idea despite his reservations, and the result is a deeply thoughtful study, that is as intense as the iconic founder of Apple.

The story of Jobs parentage adds to his legend – the offspring of unmarried students, his adoption by Paul and Clara Jobs was a providential act of destiny that blessed him with selfless parents who set aside their needs to focus on a brilliant, temperamental child who showed early signs of the man he would become. Jobs would feel the influence of his father throughout his life in his desire for faultless craftsmanship. The fascination with design seems to be his own. It is noticeable that all the enduring relationships of Jobs' life (his parents, his wife, at least three of his four children, and his closest friends) were possible because the other party accepted him as he was, difficult as he could be.

Early in his life, Jobs turned to many men for guidance, and initially at least, his mentors seemed as taken with him as he was with them, before mutual disillusionment and feelings of betrayal set in. The world of business may be dog-eat-dog, but Isaacson gives us a balanced perspective by allowing both Jobs and his adversaries their fair say, before weighing in with his analysis. He is sympathetic to John Sculley, who was in the unenviable position of ousting Jobs from his beloved Apple in 1985. Similarly, his assessment of another formidable rival of Jobs, Microsofts’s Bill Gates, is both admiring and respectful. The differences between Jobs and Gates owed more to divergent business philosophies than personal animus. While Gates and many other critics of Jobs were appreciative of the man and his achievements, it is perhaps characteristic that Jobs himself seemed unable to return the compliment, persisting in his solipsistic view of the universe.

This would perhaps lead us to question his much talked about spiritual leanings. But in this as in other ways, he was truly unique. While he might have brutalized his employees, and proved himself unforgiving to those he considered his foes, and unyielding even to his dearest circle of family, Jobs' spirituality was innate and genuine. It could be seen in his unostentatious lifestyle; the sense of aesthetic that wedded functionality and beauty; his intuitive understanding of consumer needs, and yes, a certain integrity in an environment that didn’t make integrity easy. Despite his failings, Jobs continues to mesmerize, and that isn’t merely because he possessed a rock-star charisma evinced by no other CEO. In a world where the profit margin is given over-riding importance, his career is an example of innovation, an instinctual ability to harness creativity, visionary leadership, and the fostering of a corporate culture that engendered, indeed, enforced excellence.

“…a lot of us want to contribute something back to our species…We try to use the talents we do have to express our deep feelings, to show our appreciation of all the contributions that came before us, and to add something to that flow. That’s what has driven me.”

Jobs inspires because he made exceptional and uncompromising use of the time, opportunities, and gifts endowed upon him.

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand


Book Club October 2011 Pick

Readers who expect a lot from a book won’t be disappointed by ‘Unbroken’. It successfully crosses multiple nonfiction genres – historical, survival, biographical, and inspirational. It’s a fitting tribute to its centerpiece, Louie Zamperini, a man whose experiences are so remarkable that he seems to have rolled many lifetimes into one. It would be no exaggeration to say that a similar tale of fiction would be dismissed as outrageous beyond belief.

Though the story revolves around Louie Zamperini, ‘Unbroken’ is equally a consideration of World War II, starting with the U.S.’s entry into the war with the bombing of Pearl Harbor; the war experiences of servicemen stationed in the Pacific to confront the threat from the East; a searing account of the horrendous treatment meted out to Allied soldiers in Japanese POW camps; and, finally, the long road to rehabilitation faced by these veterans. In the very first chapter, Hillenbrand gives us a bird’s eye view of historical perspective, effortlessly navigating us into the pregnant pause between the two great wars of the last century. Her terrifyingly vivid description of the bombing of Funafuti brings us a little too close to the war for comfort.

Good writers know that it’s easier to get their readers involved in the more abstract aspects of their book, if they give them a human interest angle. While Louie Zamperini’s life is so exceptional that not everyone might be able to identify with it, it’s impossible not to be moved by the man himself. The early portions of Zamperini’s life are entertaining. We get a glimpse of an incorrigibly ungovernable boy who could find no positive outlet for his excess energy till his elder brother cajoles and browbeats him into sports. Zamperini quickly excels at running, with a high school record that was unbeaten for many years. He goes on to become a part of the U.S. track team for the 1936 Berlin Olympics, “the youngest distance runner to ever make the team”. He acquits himself well, and returns home a national hero.

The sure path to athletic glory is interrupted when he enlists in the Army Air Corps in 1941, putting his dreams on hold, like so many other young men of his generation. Louie becomes a bombardier and sees action in the Pacific, before his plane with its crew crashes into the ocean in 1943. Surviving as a castaway for an astounding 47 days at sea in an appallingly ill-fitted raft, Zamperini’s luck takes a turn for the worse when the vessel finally washes up on a Japanese-occupied island. There begins the second part of his ordeal - trying to make it through conditions intended to shatter any normal human being, with a tormentor who seems to be hell on two legs.

As engrossing as this book was, I gradually became aware of a slight unease and was able to put a finger on it only a third of a way through the reading. Japan’s war-crimes have been documented beyond refute, and  Hillenbrand’s depiction of the Japanese people is, on the whole, even-handed; which is not to say the book is free of bias. While Hillenbrand gives us the truth, I suspect that it is not the whole, unalloyed truth. The author’s perspective is loyal to the American experience of the Second World War. Nowhere is there any allusion to an American serviceman being anything other than an officer and a gentleman. Hillenbrand does not depict any event that would tarnish the image of the people currently idealized as ‘the greatest generation’. If the more unsavory actions of American soldiers have been either omitted or glossed over, it’s perhaps because this book is a heart-felt valentine to veterans of WW II. Well, a nation must celebrate its heroes, but I was a little discomfited at the unsubtle nudging to offer a standing ovation.

Zamperini’s story does not end with the war. So rarely is violence ensued by true peace, and yet for Zamperini it did. The third act of his life is a post-lude of amazing grace.

Related Reading:

‘Strength in What Remains’ by Tracy Kidder

The insanity of war is intensified when it is not hostilities between opposing nations, but erstwhile friends and neighbors turning on each other. How do we stop the madness? Pulitzer-prize winning author, Tracy Kidder, offers if not solutions, at least hope in his recounting of Rwanda’s recent civil war.

http://noa-betweenthelines.blogspot.com/2011/02/strength-in-what-remains-by-tracy.html

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Like ‘Unbroken’, Martel’s Booker-prize winning novel is also one of survival, faith, and the unquenchable human spirit. A word of caution, this book didn’t win the ‘Booker’ for nothing. It’s like deep-sea diving; the treasures are hidden, and a superficial read won’t be rewarding.

http://noa-betweenthelines.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-of-pi-by-yann-martel-part-survival.html

Isaac Newton by James Gleick

Rating: 3 ½ Stars

For many children, introduction to Isaac Newton, and by extension physics, begins with the famous story of the apple. That story may not be completely myth, but certainly it was exaggerated. There does not seem to be an isolated ‘Eureka’ moment leading to Newton’s discovery of the laws of gravitation. It was borne out after years of intense observation, contemplation, and experimenting.

Isaac Newton was born in 1642, the son of an illiterate farmer. At an early age, the fatherless boy was abandoned to his grand-mother’s care when his mother remarried. He grew up a lonely, neglected child. Having shown no aptitude for farming, he entered Cambridge University at the age of nineteen, eventually becoming a Professor of Mathematics and earning a Fellowship. He later left his teaching job when he was, by royal appointment, made Warden of the Mint in 1696. He fulfilled his duties zealously, bringing his mathematical exactitude to the job at hand, and earned honor and wealth in this field as he did in the scientific one. He died in 1727, a wealthy, famous recluse, who had never married, and had allegedly been celibate all his life.

There are some people who have fascinating personal lives; others who choose to make what should be private, public. Newton remains to the end of the book, complex and unknowable - it’s hard to take the measure of the man who invented calculus and enabled the prediction of Halley’s Comet. His influence is felt in the very words that form the rudiments of physics: force, mass, action, reaction, momentum, gravity. It was only with Newton that these words entered the lexicon as scientific concepts. He was an obsessive thinker who asked himself endless questions about the nature of the physical world, then attempted to work out the solutions for himself, though he did keenly study the notes of both predecessors and contemporaries.

 In 1703, he was nominated President of the Royal Society of London, an organization dedicated to the promotion of scientific knowledge. In his new position he encouraged experiments in light, heat and chemistry; and championed early research into electricity. If he shared meagerly from his vast store of knowledge, part of it seems to stem from his inborn secrecy, and part from his innate caution in publishing his theories; in his words, “to avoid being engaged in disputes.” He grew enraged at those he perceived as envious pretenders.

With Newton, for the first time perhaps in English history, a man of science became a national hero. The poet, Alexander Pope eulogized him thus:

“Nature and Nature’s laws lay hid in night,

God said, Let Newton be! And All was Light.”

Yet, during his lifetime and after, he had his detractors, and not just among fellow scientists. Some less admiring poets were Keats, Shelley and Blake, who seemed to loathe him for reasons both diverse and obscure – for the loss of mystery in the universe, for the diminishing of faith, and for England’s increasing industrialization. That’s a lot of blame to lay at one man’s door. Genius lives for its own reasons. Oddly though, Newton didn’t appear to have an overly inflated opinion of himself,

“I don’t know what I may seem to the world, but, as to myself, I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.”

Catherine the Great by Henri Troyat

Rating: 3 & 1/2 Stars

[Translated from the French by Joan Pinkham] 

In one sense, the ongoing ballyhoo about the ‘birther controversy’ is a tribute to democracy, in that; even the legitimacy of a duly elected American President can be challenged by a discontented minority. We’ve come a long way from 1762 when an upstart German princess seized the Russian throne to become one of the most formidable powers of the 18^th. Century.

Born Sophie Augusta Fredericka in Prussia in 1729, Catherine the Great became Empress of Russia, through a co-mingling of fortune, chance, and ruthless ambition. Young Sophie sensed herself predestined for greatness, despite the indifference of her mother and the scant attention of her father, who was a minor German princeling. She was a prodigiously intelligent tomboy who set her sights on marrying the crown prince of Russia whom she first met at the age of ten. Sophie’s family began to rise in prominence around the same time Elizabeth I (not to be confused with England’s Virgin Queen) ascended the throne of Russia. Elizabeth I adopted her nephew, and declared him heir apparent. Wishing to contract a suitable alliance for her heir, Grand Duke Peter, she sent a proposal of marriage for Sophie. King Frederick II of Prussia also favored this alliance, hoping it would bring a rapprochement between the two countries.

Once in Russia, Sophie ingratiated herself into the Queen’s favor. Pleasing Czarina Elizabeth could have been no easy task. The Queen was a mercurial and unpredictable woman, who swung between extremes of generosity and cruelty, piety and licentiousness, ruling her court with her tyrannical whims. But she was sufficiently impressed with Sophie, who assumed the name Catherine on converting to the Orthodox faith, before she married Peter. The eighteen-year old Grand Duke seems to have been more boy than man, his physical development having been retarded by childhood ailments. He spent his wedding night playing with his toy soldiers. 

The marriage had been unconsummated for eight years when Catherine met Serge Saltykov, a man with a taste for danger and lonely Grand Duchesses. Catherine became pregnant with his child. Despite his fondness for playing with matches, Saltykov knew all too well the dangers of setting a virgin forest on fire. He persuaded G.D. Peter to submit to a surgical procedure which corrected his little problem, and conveniently gave a probable cause for any child borne by Catherine. Catherine’s first and second pregnancies ended in miscarriages. Historians are still unsure as to the paternity of Catherine’s son, Paul Petrovich.

Once Czarina Elizabeth died in 1761, the reign of Peter III was short-lived. Catherine soon deposed him to become the absolute ruler of Russia. Nor did the aristocracy or the people mind so much. Peter III’s eccentricities – his hatred of Russia, his public clowning around at Elizabeth’s funeral, the unthinkable concessions to Prussia once he had ascended the throne - did not endear him to the general populace. That he didn’t seem to see the incongruity of the sovereign of Russia behaving like a subject of Prussia smacks of imbecility at best, or high treason at worst. Catherine, who had assiduously applied herself to learning Russian, and had ardently embraced her new country stood in favorable contrast. She said to her physicians,

“Bleed me to my last drop of German blood so that I may have only Russian blood in my veins.”

She ruled her country with an iron hand for thirty-five years.

It’s said that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. The intelligent, liberal-minded young queen gave way over the years to an entrenched autocrat who realized that the landed nobility was her power base, and that they must be appeased at all costs. The ‘costs’ were the disenfranchised serfs who formed the majority of Russia. Consider that the standard pension for one of Catherine’s ex-lovers included an average of five thousand serfs, give or take a couple of thousand. However, her human rights record aside, by the end of her reign, Russia’s territories had expanded, education was promoted, women’s rights were furthered, the small-pox vaccine was introduced, and religious tolerance was enforced. That is to say, as tyrannical despots go, she was not too bad.

Strength in What Remains by Tracy Kidder

Rating: 3 & 1/2 Stars

It seems like there’s not a lot of good news coming out of Africa recently. It’s normal to get fatigued when then there’s nothing but a spate of misery gushing from the second largest continent in the world;  normal to shrug hopelessly about conditions that we cannot change; normal to turn our attention to more pressing concerns where we can make a difference. Is it ever normal to stop caring? That’s neither normal nor possible when we read Tracy Kidder’s, ‘Strength in What Remains’.

This is both a book about a man, Deogratias, and his country, Burundi.  Burundi is a tiny country just south of the equator, lying adjacent to Rwanda. Of course, most of us have heard of Rwanda, but the recent history of the two countries has been inextricably connected. Both countries have a mixed population of Hutu and Tutsi people, whose ethnic identities are so convoluted and obscure that they defy simple explanation. In Burundi, the minority Tutsi held the reins of power; in Rwanda it was the Hutu. In 1993, after Burundi’s newly elected Hutu President, Ndadaye, was assassinated, the country erupted into Civil War. Six months later, Rwanda started a government- sponsored genocide.

In 1994, Deogratias, who is identified here only by his first name, landed in New York, from Bujumbura in Burundi. Till very recently, he had been a top-ranking medical student, who dreamed of one day building a clinic for the people of his rural settlement – Butanza. That was before the Civil War sent him into a spiral of terror, when he spent months on the run, avoiding all human contact. To see other people meant probable death, or images of impossible, inhuman cruelty.

Deogratias spoke no English, only French and his native Kirundi; and had a meager amount of dollars when he landed in New York. This intelligent and idealistic young man was soon reduced to minimum wage, and virtual homelessness. Yet about twelve years later, not only was he again enrolled in medical school, he was an ardent volunteer for Partners in Health, an international organization committed to better health in the developing world, and in the process of continuing his interrupted dream for his people. His short term goal was to build a medical clinic in Kigutu, and for the long term - improved public health for the whole country.

“health in his country was dreadful…an average life expectancy of thirty-nine years; one in five deaths caused by waterborne diseases or lack of sanitation; severe malnutrition for 54 percent of children under five; for women, one-in-nine lifetime risk of dying during childbirth; and fewer than three hundred doctors to serve a population of about seven million. And most of these doctors practiced in the capital…”

Deo survived the holocaust that overtook his country; he survived under the grimmest conditions in Harlem, which appears no less a Third World than much of Africa; he resumed his dream of medical school. Yet none of this is extraordinary in itself. Survival and success are both mysterious gifts of an inscrutable Providence. What is remarkable is what he is doing with those gifts.