No comments about One Man's Journey: In Search of Freedom.

1 comments about George Herbert Mead: THE MAKING OF A SOCIAL PRAGMATIST.

1. I would not have found this book but for the fact that the author (Gary Cook) is my advisor, professor, and friend here at Beloit College. He introduced me to the works of Mead, as well as the other great American pragmatists (C.S. Peirce, William James, etc). A better professor than writer, but for any who interested in the life of Mead, this book is a must.

No comments about Letters to his Parents: 1939-1951.

5 comments about Tales Of The Lavender Menace: A Memoir Of Liberation.

1. Oh, what a fun read! This is one person's perspective, one person's story. Karla Jay does not claim to speak for all feminists, and it is important that those willing to take the time and energy to write their experience do so -- it is in so doing that herstory manifests. We all have our own perspective on the time in which we live -- just note how many people yell at the TV while watching the news!
   
   I loved reading this book. It helped me to remember my own time during the 60s in which I missed out on much of the fun Ms. Jay experienced, but have certainly benefited from the work she and her cronies did. For that, I am truly grateful.
   
   I loved this book. It captures a sense of "being there" that too many books lack. Her history of family dysfunction is far from uncommon, given the numbers of traumatized children and that trauma, without treatment, tends to be intergenerational. It's part of the story, certainly. After all, isn't Patriarchal madness part and parcel of the history of the world?
   
   Karla Jay chose not to avail herself of therapy. On the other hand, she had access to Academia that escaped me, and it supports her today. I probably have more confusion around that. Interestingly enough, we both managed to live our lives without ever driving a car. I know there are more of us out there!
   
   A great book, again, a fun read. Definitely a "Feminism 101" reader.



2. I found reading this book a little like looking through a high school yearbook. It has a certain "those were the days, my friends" feel to it. It's interesting mainly because the times were interesting, and it's fun to look back. But it left me wanting something more substantial.

   There are details galore about the titillating (sex, drugs, agents provocateurs, etc.). In contrast, there's very little of the emotional candor or 20/20 hindsight one might expect after the passing of thirty years.

   In the Epilogue Ms. Jay writes "It is hard for me to explain how the protagonist of this memoir emerged as a tenured full professor ... I am no longer the person at the center of this political autobiography, not even vaguely..."

   And that's exactly my problem with the book. Jay offers a chronicle of events -- large and small -- but there's little of the introspection and reflection I expect in a personal memoir.




3. I shared some, though by no means all, of the exciting times described by Karla Jay in her book. I am very proud to have worked with her on four books, and pleased to remain her friend. This shouldn't disqualify me from recommending this book to friends and stranger alike. The word "liberation" in the title of this book is key. Read this book to find out more about the pioneers of feminism and gay liberation. You'll learn a lot and have a good time. I laughed out loud at some lines I've heard before, and some that were new to me. You'll surely enjoy Karla's humor, too, along with her honesty and compassion for her fellow human beings, male and female.



4. Karla Jay gives the most intimate-and politically interesting-view of the early years of radical feminism and gay liberation (roughly 1968-1971) that I've seen. Alongside the moving sketch of her own tragic family, the book gives a close-up view of some of the movements' then-key players, the political thinking of the time, and lots of 1960s-era sex. Very clear-eyed in its political assessments, giving both a sense of how seductive it was to be a 'radical' then-without any excuses for some of the era's whackier ideas. Essential and fabulous background for understanding today's lesbian and gay politics.



5. I was lucky enough to snag a pre-publication copy of Tales of the Lavender Menace. This is Karla Jay's affecting memoir of her transformational journey through the heady early years of the women's and gay liberation movements. Jay writes with courage, humor and complete candor, starting with her difficult family and her student life at Barnard College. Her first-hand experience with political protest and police brutality caused her to begin to question her original values. Consciousness-raising groups, lesbian dances, and a generous helping of sex complete the picture. She does not spare the reader any intimate details, as we learn how she literally re-invented herself, from a middle-class college student to a radical lesbian feminist. Not just a witness to, but also a participant in the rapidly changing history of the sixties and seventies, Jay takes the reader on a hilarious, whirlwind tour of the era. I was amazed at how much detail she remembers. For her, and for the reader, the personal really becomes the political. Buy (do not burn or steal) this very engrossing book; I couldn't put it down.

No comments about Nationalism, Social Theory and Durkheim.

No comments about The Story of a Marriage : The Letters of Bronislaw Malinowski and Elsie Masson (Volume 2, 1920-35).

3 comments about Max Weber: Politics And The Spirit Of Tragedy.

1. While the treatment of Weber's life and thoughts is quite useful and rather well written, the text contains over thirty (30)errors of German and Latin expressions. These are orthographical,
   wrong gender endings, word distortions beyond recognition, etc.
   Even historical names, like Leibknecht (for Karl Liebknecht) and Sombardt(for Werner Sombart) have been mangled.
   For a work with "academic" pretensions -- the author is a professor at CCNY -- this is regrettable. One wonders what the numerous editors, proofreaders, and so on have done other than
   base their "imprimatur" on self-attested expertise.



2. I certainly agree with the earlier reviewer from Portugal as to the high quality of Diggins' book. However, the reviewer is wrong about the term "iron cage." Weber very clearly refers to capitalism as an "iron cage" in the powerful concluding pages of his book "The Protestant Ethic and the Sprit of Capitalism." Weber both admired and feared the economic system that he saw as our fate. In a world in which values inevitably conflict and unintended consequences are the rule, every social system and every social initiative will be tinged with irony and tragedy. Capitalism is no exception; it is a mixed bag, both beneficial and costly. For Weber, only by both responsibly safeguarding ourselves from its more dehumanizing features and at the same time measuring up to its demands upon individual initiative can the human spirit survive and in some measure determine its future. We are suspended, with no relief other than our own individual and collective will to act, between these perennial and contradictory demands. Weber harbored both hopes and doubts that human beings were up to the task. Diggins' book brings out this message very well.



3. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Max Weber was a modern thinker who defied categorization. Was he a philosopher, an historian, a political theorist or a sociologist? This leads to some confusion as to his message. For instance, contrary to what one of the reviews mentions, Weber didn't view Capitalism as an "iron cage", but it's modern derivative, bureaucracy as that cage. Few people will argue with that comment. Strangely enough too, as Professor Diggins indicates, the questions that Weber struggled with one hundred years ago are still very much with us today. Could that be because the situation of pre-World War I Germany burdened as it was with a dysfunctional political system and weak leaders, yet possessing a strong, vigorous economy and formidable military, is very similar to the that of America today? I found the author's discussion of Weber's problems of reconciling the "ethic of principled convictions" with the "ethic of responsibility" particularly timely. After finishing the book I found myself wanting to know more about Max Weber's insights into the modern condition.

No comments about Categories of Self: Louis Dumont's Theory of the Individual (Methodology and History in Anthropology).

No comments about The Voice of Harriet Taylor Mill.

5 comments about Report from Engine Co. 82.

1. I sent it to my son when he was in Afghanistan. It's a classic story



2. I first read this book 20+ years ago, when I was under 20 years of age myself but streetwise from being the "wheels" (with a driver's license and a car) for various escapades all over Chicago in my raucous, hard-partying and utterly politically incorrect youth. Many aspects of "Report From Engine Co. 82" stuck with me through the years, and I've re-read it several times. Now I'm 40 and an ER RN in a Chicago hospital where we see more than our share of the extraordinarily dysfunctional lives of the people who live in poverty in the neighborhoods that surround our hospital -- the type of job and environment Smith portrays so well in "Report From Engine Co. 82."
   
   "Report From Engine Co. 82." tells truths about the nearly inescapable poverty and illiteracy of people scraping by in lives that are marginalized in every possible way because they don't -- can't -- really care for themselves appropriately because they don't even know how. Poverty isn't what it used to be -- but it's still as screwed up as it was in Smith's first book. Most of our ER visits aren't really emergencies, just as most of the calls Company 82 responded to weren't emergencies, either. Nowadays, people call 911; when "Report" was written, that 911 system didn't exist yet. But not much has changed since then, in terms of what the firefighters/paramedics respond to and bring to the ER.
   
   Most of the "emergencies" he sees are not emergencies. The non-emergencies, combined with the real emergencies, portray the dangerous and unthinking way poor people live through a combination of lack of resources, lack of experience with the "straight" world, lack of common sense, and minute-by-minute survival thinking. Most of these emergencies and non-emergencies are easily prevented -- if people had common sense, proper parenting, and a normal instinct for self-preservation.
   
   These qualities, however, are surprisingly hard to come by in poverty, and this is what Smith dramatizes. The heroin overdoses. The stupid kids doing stupid things because they are constantly left unattended and to their own devices. Kids who shoot themselves in the thigh or foot -- or worse -- "playing" with guns. Fires that kill children because space heaters provide the heat slumlords refuse to provide in their code-violating buildings. The incipient hatred and distrust poor minority neighborhoods have of the white emergency personnel and firefighters who respond to their calls. The huge cultural gaps that make true communication and understanding so difficult -- even when you're both the same race and both speaking English.
   
   What Smith accurately portrays is the way poverty-stricken people "live in the now" -- people whose entire lives are spent with no real financial or material stability or security. These are people for whom the concept of saving money for the future is impossible, either as a concept or a reality. People for whom making an appointment days or weeks in the future, and actually remembering to get to the appointment, is nearly impossible. Their main mode of thought is: what do I need to do now, what do I want to do now, what do I need or want to do in the next five minutes. This inability to think about and plan for the future is endemic, as is the inability to prioritize that which really matters -- one suspects because most of these people realize on some level they have no future that truly matters to the rest of society, and they're incapable of living as the rest of the "straight" world lives because they never have, didn't grow up with it, and don't know the language of living that life, let alone the mindset.
   
   These are the people and children who have no insurance, no health care, no glasses when their vision is bad, no braces or dental care when their teeth are bad; who never use birth control (to prevent pregnancy OR to prevent disease transmission). People who don't understand why it's inappropriate to come to the ER with an upper respiratory infection and get pissed off when they wait hours for care while higher priority, higher-acuity patients (in respiratory distress, cardiac arrest, heart attacks, asthma attacks, and overdose, etc.) are taken before they are.
   
   Conversely, these are also the people who shun health care until they are so sick they can no longer avoid it, and discover they have cancer... Cancer that could have been prevented or at least treated, often saving their lives, had they ever had regular health care -- but who are now consigned to an inevitable death they will blame on the healthcare providers who couldn't save them because they were at a stage beyond saving or treating in any way other than palliative.
   
   Smith's New York is NOT the New York of Sex And The City. This is the New York of the infants whose welfare mothers don't immunize them, but have the latest, most expensive coats and boots because conspicuous consumption is how they live: you show how much money you have by wearing all that your money has bought you (rather than doing the far less glamorous but sensible things more responsible people, whose children were WANTED rather than accidental, do). The New York of the kids having kids who have kids, all of whom have never known proper parenting, nutrition, or health care. The overdoses. The children who come in with accidental poisonings or burns from household chemicals because no one was watching them. The attempted suicides with anything and everything -- cold medicine, knives, guns, illegal drugs. The kids raised by siblings because the parent is completely incapable, if they're even around, with or without the additional problems of substance use/abuse, addiction, or domestic abuse. The families which are largely single-parent families -- and where the parental figure may be an elder sibling, aunt or cousin who cares more for the children than their biological parent(s) does or is capable of doing.
   
   This is also the world of the terrified illegal immigrants who wait so long to call for help because they're afraid of INS (now ICE) and deportation; by the time they do, they're often too sick to save. The penniless old people whose pensions don't cover their living expenses and who don't call for help because they're terrified of being discharged from the hospital to a nursing home and losing what little autonomy and material security they have left. The fractured families (with utterly dysfunctional dynamics) who interfere with the paramedics' jobs -- as well as the tight-knit families who are rich only in love for one another. The people who refuse help they desperately need because they fear and distrust the paramedics and firemen trying to help them, and because their healthcare illiteracy is such that they have no idea what is necessary to save their lives, and so refuse or avoid medical treatment that could stop problems in stages when they're still treatable. The mothers who speak no English, who superstitiously fear that emergency treatment will kill their children, yet who are so desperate to save their babies, they don't know what else to do, because all home remedies have now failed. The endless numbers of people who let their prescriptions run out or try to save money by taking less than the prescribed doses and then have severe health problems that wouldn't happen if they bought and took their meds as prescribed -- but who, for multiple reasons, can't and/or don't. The people who beg not to be brought to the hospital because "people DIE in the hospital" -- people who don't understand that their neighbors and family members who died in the hospital, died because they waited far too long to call for help, and were therefore were beyond saving when they finally got to a hospital.
   
   Anyone who works in public service as a fireman, cop, nurse, social worker, or psych intake worker in a big city -- and in poverty-stricken, crime- and drug-infested suburbs and rural communities -- can relate to Smith's book. For everyone who majored in something else, this book opens a door and exposes the lives of people you don't even know exist, people you don't acknowledge when you're forced to share a bus or train with them during rush hour (or who you intentionally avoid by driving in your own car, despite the expense of gas, insurance, and time spent on the commute): the people who don't work, or the people who work wage-slave jobs like janitor, maid, fast-food worker, security guard, who can barely pay their bills or care for their children with what little they make -- or who blow it all on liquor and/or drugs and/or gambling (or all three) to escape the miserable hopelessness of their lives. The kids who have the latest "stuff" -- whether it's the shiny ten speed bicycles Smith writes about, or today's video games and cell phone/mp3 player/cameras -- but whose parents can't or won't give them what they really need: breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a stable environment from which to emerge every day to deal with the life-endangering risks of walking to and attending public schools that do little more than babysit and warehouse kids whose futures include teen pregnancy (and the late-term, life-threatening miscarriages that go with total lack of prenatal care, with or without drug use), repeated incarceration, and shorter-than-average lifespans due to the daily likelihood of violence in their communities and their lives.
   
   Smith's portrayal of this kind of poverty is not pretty but it is not unsympathetic -- there are glimpses of beauty and hope, mostly in the young women and children who haven't yet been ruined by their surroundings. Smith tempers it all with a matter-of-fact acceptance that although it is his job to care for these people, he may never really understand them because he's now too removed from that life, and he takes on faith that they possess human qualities they often fail to demonstrate. But some do show their humanity, and those are the people he does it for.
   
   Smith does an excellent job of portraying the paradox that the job of these firefighters and paramedics is to help and save these people, which by its nature includes finding them WORTH helping and saving, at the same time as they move and live as far away from these neighborhoods and the associated poverty, crime and drug problems as they possibly can. This is not merely a racial difference. There are plenty of black and Latino paramedics, cops, firefighters, nurses and doctors who straddle the gulf (some might say 'minefield') between their class and the class of the people they help, in circumstances that are at best trying and at worst nearly impossible to help them transcend for any sustained length of time.
   
   Smith portrays the sympathetic detachment required to know that this is what you do, all day, every day you work, with only the hope that one or two out of ten people will actually genuinely and sincerely thank you for what you do or have done for them -- which is that elusive reward you get, one that can make it all seem worth it when it happens -- and to hope that when you show up and give this of yourself on every shift, there might be one kid or teen who sees what you're doing, who still has enough time ahead of them to see this glimpse into another world... A world it is just *barely* possible for them to enter given enough determination, education, mentoring and drive, and sadly also given enough instinct to discard much of what they learn in their families about how they THINK the world works, versus how the world REALLY works for the more educated and better-off people who run it.
   
   The fact that Smith can show all this without denigrating an entire class of people -- does, in fact, portray them with humanity and the grace one occasionally sees in these circumstances -- is because he also recognizes that he is not that far removed from the kind of poverty he sees on the job (he grew up poor, too). He recognizes and accepts that he is that kid who admired firemen as a boy and saw a different world -- he is that kid who made the leap to the next class up, to the working class and blue collar as opposed to poverty-stricken. He understands the dysfunction -- the drinking, the drugs, the abuse -- that occurs in the neighborhoods Co. 82 responds to because it occurred in his neighborhood, his family, his poverty, while he was growing up.
   
   This understanding that few "get out" -- and that he was one of the lucky few -- underscores with sympathy his otherwise stark portrayal of the job of a NYC fireman in the 70s when NYC was not a desirable place to live and people did their best to escape "the city" as soon as their financial circumstances permitted it.
   
   The uncensored version of this book (which is the one I've read multiple times) also shows the bizarre split someone who works as a fireman/paramedic, nurse, or doctor must negotiate within themselves -- the intimate knowledge you have of the bodies of the people you must save, which is merely part of your job but which you can't really talk about to any family member or lover who isn't in one of these fields. I don't mean merely intimacy with people's genitals -- though there is that, such as the way the Smith describes heroin overdoses getting icebags put under their testicles (negative stimulus, designed to bring unresponsive, unconscious people back to responsiveness and consciousness). I mean the intimacy of seeing people stripped of their modesty and dignity, voluntarily (prostitutes) or involuntarily (the terribly sick), whose personal space and body integrity you must necessarily invade, often in less-than-respectful or diplomatic ways because there is no time for those niceties when someone is dying and you're trying to save them. People who don't work in these fields can never really understand how you can be unaffected by the nudity, exposure and/or intimate knowledge you have of these total strangers, and the disinterest or casual attitude with which you greet what would shock most everyone else.
   
   And, of course, you're not unaffected by this knowledge. Sometimes you're disturbed, or someone or something sticks in your mind -- the things you've seen or had to do -- and is recalled in inappropriate moments with your loved ones. You're not unaffected, you're just emotionally calloused or you compartmentalize it, in order to repeatedly perpetrate and endure this violation of the boundaries between strangers and its inherent power imbalance: you, as the emergency personnel, never have to reveal any of these intimacies to your patients... but they must necessarily, willingly or not, reveal them to you. This includes the mentally ill and the hopelessly drug-addled or dopesick (or both, combined) -- sometimes the most disturbing intimacy of all: the insides of their heads and their distorted, sometimes frighteningly unhinged, perceptions of the world around them.



3. This book is one of the best books about the fire service I have ever read. I hung onto each and every word. It was though I was there sometimes.



4. During the tumultuous period of the 60s when author Dennis Smith wrote Report From Engine Company 82, the book was a cry for help from exhausted, frustrated men. Men who cleaned up in the aftermath of other exhausted and frustrated inhabitants of a society stretched to the breaking point.
   
   As I type this, a younger firefighter in a comfortable, air-conditioned fire station among a population that by-and-large respects my profession, it's easy to forget the sacrifice of our past brothers who unceasingly fought fires, city hall and the population they served, until they had forged the modern fire service.
   
   It's an important book for new firefighters to learn how the iron men of old did the job. And for the general reader it's a testament to both a volatile period in our nation's history, and to the timeless strength and courage by which good men have always worked to keep back the chaos of barbarism and destruction.



5. I spent 10 years in the fire service in both engine and truck companys. While I have many memories and stories to tell, the author, Dennis Smith, sums up the life of a fire fighter in an urban environment about as well as can be possibly told. Trying to balance the unpleasantries and sadness against the satisfaction of saving a life or helping a family overcome one of life's most agonizing moments is very well portrayed in this book. This is what a fire fighter's life is about folks. There is no other book that I can remember that tells it any better than this. If you're thinking of a career in a big city fire department or for that matter, if you're even thinking of becoming a volunteer fire fighter this book is a must!