Monday, May 25, 2026

Reading roundup

City of Glass
Paul Auster

A postmodern meta riff on the suspense novel. Overall I enjoyed it, even if in the end it seemed too clever by half. It shares with some other novels I have read a denouement that places the protagonist(s) in a shrinking universe, partly of their own making, including John Williams's Stoner, E.L. Doctorow's Homer and Langley, and Kafka's story A Hunger Artist

The Keeper
Tana French

This completes her Ardnakelty crime trilogy, featuring the transplanted American cop Cal Hooper and his constructed Irish family. As in the previous installments, the village of Ardnakelty forms a collective character, often manifested in the person of Mart Lavin, Cal's crusty and not entirely trustworthy neighbor and confidante. French is the master of this kind of psychological and anthropological entertainment, and for the most part The Keeper does not disappoint. I could have wished for a little more of Trey, Cal's tough-as-nails, more-or-less adopted teenage daughter; and I found the resolution of the suspicious death at the center of the plot not entirely credible. But none of those quibbles will stop me from snapping up the fourth installment, if there is one, or whatever French's next book happens to be. 

A Fool's Kabbalah
Steve Stern

This is about as entertaining as a historical novel about the Holocaust by bullets could be. The book switches between twin narratives. One follows Gershom Scholem as he travels through eastern Europe after the War, attempting to gather and save Jewish books looted by the Nazis, including historical documents relating to Jewish mysticism. The other narrative features the antics of the village fool Menke Klepfisch, as the Nazis occupy his shtetl and visit one atrocity after another on the hapless and superstitious residents. 

The book is ultimately about the futility of some of the most deeply human defenses against the vicissitudes of life – whether religious mysticism, rational philosophy, or humor – in the face of the ultimate evil. But it is often touching and very funny. Stern surely wants us to feel discomfort when we chuckle, given the horrors he rather graphically describes. He succeeds.

Monday, April 13, 2026

Babe

April showers are unusual in San Jose. They spritz up even Babe's muffler shop. That's Babe to the right, I believe.



Sunday, March 22, 2026

Monte Bello Open Space Preserve

Beautiful all times of year, but especially in spring, with the flowers blooming and the oaks leafing out. Photos in order: the elegant Pacific trillium (T. ovatum); the very spiny fuchsiaflower gooseberry (Ribes speciosum); the fetching red vetchling (Lathyrus cicera). And lastly, dog-vomit slime mold (Fuligo septica): Visually speaking it is aptly named, but olfactorily speaking it is actually neutral to pleasant in odor; it is known as caca de luna (moon poop!) in parts of Mexico, where some folks eat it. I have not tried it... yet...







William E. Connolly, RIP

Bill Connolly's political theory course at UMass was my very favorite class of all time. I was reminded of him with the recent news of Jürgen Habermas's death, and was saddened to learn of Connolly's own passing less than a month ago. Connolly was deeply influenced by Habermas, but he was his own thinker. Over the years my own intellectual trajectory moved away from abstract political philosophy into empirical economics, with all its reductionism and reification. Connolly would not have approved, but I am certain he left a mark on my politics and thought. 

He was an old-school professor, ad-lib lecturing with his take on the intricate arguments of Rousseau, Hegel, Althusser. Perhaps I was actually as lost as many of my fellow students said they were, but it felt like I was being let in on something profound, that ideas matter, and that with enough attention and concentration, I could participate in the discourse. Connolly lived long enough to witness the triumph of cruelty, selfishness, and irrationality over the pluralism and humanism that defined his worldview. If we overcome those trends, it is sad to think that he will not be here to witness. 

Another short appreciation can be found here.

Friday, March 13, 2026

The world's deadliest animals, part 2

Well, deadly if you are a checkerspot butterfly, anyway. There are birds and various other critters that will be eager to gobble you up, including crab spiders. Something about this webby dried up weed must have attracted the attention of the checkerspot... its last mistake, alas.



Monday, March 9, 2026

The world's deadliest animals...

... according to Our World in Data. Mosquitoes come in first, and humans second. Snakes are a distant third, followed by dogs. All of that is plausible to me. These guys do good work, and I trust their research, but I was surprised that neither fleas nor the rodents that carry them made the list. Surely the plague, tamed though it may be, still carries off more humans than the sharks that account for only six fatalities per year. And ticks? Nada? 

(Image: Wikipedia)


Sunday, February 22, 2026

Willie Colón, RIP

Siembra may be my favorite album, period. ¡El Mejor!

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Pulgas Ridge Open Space Preserve

Today I walked the longer loop around the preserve on the Dusky-Footed Woodrat Trail; with a moderate drizzle coming down I had this splendid park almost entirely to myself. In the plant department, it is overshadowed by its neighbor immediately to the south, Edgewood County Park, which is renowned for its springtime wildflower display and unusual native species, thanks to its serpentine soils. But Pulgas is not without its attractions, including some beautiful chaparral, populated with ceanothus and manzanitas, and classic oak woodlands. In one gully shaded by live oaks and buckeyes you will find the uncommon and attractive fetid adder's tongue, or slinkpod (Scoliopus bigelovii). I have never found it particularly fetid, myself, even when I bend down and stick my nose into that striking little flower. This time of year one is also rewarded by the glowing emerald green of our native meadow rue.