Reviews for A history of the United States, by R. B. Nye and J. E. Morpurgo. 3rd ed.; [in 2vols]

The average rating for A history of the United States, by R. B. Nye and J. E. Morpurgo. 3rd ed.; [in 2vols] based on 2 reviews is 5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2018-02-02 00:00:00 Natasha Sutton Christopher Logue was a poet. Irreverent and utterly original, he was asked to "contribute to a new version" of Homer's Iliad. Despite protestations that he knew no Greek, he looked over the earliest attempts to translate the work and came up with something…irreverent and utterly original. Logue offers "an account" of Homer's Iliad, just as a later poet, Alice Oswald in Memorial, would offer an interpretation…not a translation. Lovers of the Iliad, those who know well the story and joyfully encounter each new translation, will just as eagerly sink into the off-beat nature of this poet's unique and modern take. We know Achilles hated Agamemnön, but Achilles' shouted challenges to the older man in the voice of earlier translators did not have the modernistic sensibility of Logue's: 'Mouth! King mouth!' Then stopped. Then from the middle of the common sand said: "Heroes, behold your King' Slow as an arrow fired feathers first To puff another's worth, But watchful as a cockroach of his own."Ah, I love that. May I say I can think of another leader who fits the 'watchful cockroach' image, who sports a hair mantle not unlike that of the cockroach's carapace. Damn hard to eradicate him, too. The sport of the gods is evident throughout, despite the bloody gore of a war among equals. "But they just smile. They are the gods. They have all the time in the world. And Lord Apollo orchestrates their dance. And Leto smiles to see her son, the son of God, Playing his lyre among them, stepping high, Hearing his Nine sing how the gods have everlasting joy, Feasting together, sleeping together, Kind, color, calendar no bar, time out of mind, And how we humans suffer at their hands, Childish believers, fooled by science and art, Bound for Oblivion'And Aphrodite, Queen of Love, "her breasts alert and laden with desire…" addresses Helen: "Do stop this nonsense, Helen, dear… ...Try not to play the thankless bitch: 'Such a mistake to leave my land, my kiddywink…' What stuff. Millions would give that lot For half the looks that I have given you… ...Be proud. You have brought harm. Tremendous boys Of every age have slaughtered one another Just for you! … Bear this in mind: Without my love, somewhere between the Greek and Trojan lines A cloud of stones would turn your face to froth. So, when they lift the curtains, and he looks'you hesitate. And then you say: Take me, and I shall please you." Pause. What do you say? 'Take me, and I shall please you.' "Good. Now in you go."Christopher Logue died in 2011, so his account of Books 1-4 and 16-19, this fragment that ends with the death of Petroclus, is what we have left. His similes remain: "Spears like nettles stirred by the wind," "Dust like red mist," Pain like chalk on slate," Arrows that drift like bees," "Tearing its belly like a silk balloon…" And so it goes on. One is never finished with the Iliad when one has read it. It lingers, and while it does, Christopher Logue's version gives some joy. Jeffrey Brown, Arts Correspondent for PBS' Newshour, reviews War Music in the NYT and gives some background about the work.

Review # 2 was written on 2015-07-13 00:00:00 Rohit Joshi As the subtitle of War Music tells us, this is not so much a translation as a modern poetic reworking of parts of the Iliad, and as such it stands as a great, if incomplete, literary masterwork in its own right. I've just re-read it as part of my preparation for a group read of Emily Wilson's The Odyssey in March, and was struck anew by its breath-taking imagery, which taps into the modern as well as the classical world, especially in the imagery of warfare and armaments. One of the most vivid of these images for me comes in this passage as the Greek army prepares for war after the death of Patroclus: 'Now I shall ask you to imagine how Men under discipline of death prepare for war. There is much more to it than armament, And kicks from those who could not catch an hour's sleep Waking the ones who dozed like rows of spoons; Or those with everything to lose, the kings, Asleep like pistols in red velvet.' Here it's the 'kings asleep like pistols in red velvet' that made me stop and look at what the image might signify. The pistols I see are set on a hair trigger, ready to spring, inlaid and burnished, with a massive kick-back and slow to reload. Beautiful and dangerous to user and opponent. Immediately after this passage comes a reflection on the temporary equality of warriors - at this remove what I read as a terrible indictment of greed and war: 'Moments like these absolve the needs dividing men. Whatever caught and brought and kept them here Is lost: and for a while they join a terrible equality, Are virtuous, self-sacrificing, free: And so insidious is this liberty That those surviving it will bear An even greater servitude to its root: Believing they were whole while they were whole, while they were brave; That they were rich, because their loot was great; That war was meaningful, because they lost their friends.' One thing I particularly want to note this time is the device Logue uses to symbolise the dehumanisation of women. Apart from the principal, named queens and princesses (eg Helen, Hecuba, Briseis) all women are referred to as shes. War captives, slaves, the women to whom men feel entitled in whatever capacity they choose, are shes. They are part of the loot the men claim and share, not people. Achilles, who withdrew from the war because Agamemnon had taken his captive tribute she, Briseis, complains to Odysseus who has been sent to persuade back into the fighting: 'King, I have been a fool. The bliss self-righteousness provokes Addled my mind.' Odysseus nods. 'Remembering my given she, It would have been far better for us both If Artemis had pinned her dead.' So even Briseis is really just a she, and the deaths of many Greek men would have been avoided if Briseis had been killed instead of fought over. Achilles eventually agrees to resume the fight, to make peace with Agamemnon as long as Agamemnon reciprocates. We could see this as a summary of treaties immemorial, created from 'mouthfuls of soft air' and often as fleeting. 'Ever since men began in time, time and Time again they met in parliaments, Where, in due turn, letting the next man speak, With mouthfuls of soft air they tried to stop Themselves from ravening their talking throats; Hoping enunciated airs would fall With verisimilitude in different minds, And bring some concord to those minds; only soft air Between the hatred human animals Monotonously bear towards themselves. No work was more regarded in our times, And nothing failed so often. Knowing this, The army came to hear Achilles say: 'Pax, Agamemnon.' And Agamemnon's: 'Pax'.' Highly recommended.