I had been meaning to read this book for a while, so after finishing another Russian book, "The Master and The Margarita", I picked it up. What surprised me most is how few radicals I know have actually read the book. It was extremely influential on the growth of the Russian Socialist movement and is the oldest feminist novel I have ever read.
The book itself is a very thinly vaneered revolutionary propaganda story told through a number of young people in middle russian society. It uses a drama story about relationships and society as a way of pushing more radical messages through the tsarist censors. Though it wasn't the most exciting story, it was still very interesting from a historical perspective how it discussed the rationality of socialism and feminism. There was also a vivid example of a garment workers collective and long descriptions about the economic and social logic of doing so as well as critiques of marriage, the rich, the nuclear family, and others. Definitely an interesting read and a classic of Russian literature.
I am very thankful to Dan to showing me this book, which would have had even more influence on me had I read it a few months earlier.
It is a Faust like story taking place in Russia with the Devil and his minions traveling through Moscow causing trouble and setting up multiple threads of peoples lives toward destruction or pain. Two characters are particularly effected and connected to a story traversing 2,000 years.
Reading this, I had been reminded how much I loved reading Russian literature which includes all matters of psychological issues and a manic/agitated pace which is indescribable elsewhere. I didn't give it 4 or 5 stars because I never felt particular sympathy for most of the characters, nor did I feel pain or relief when good things happened to them (maybe with the exception of Rimsky). Still a good iconic read.
Critical brain failure a desire unquenchable while repressed memory is unleashed
..yet the longing remains.
What I perceive as love is a damaged brain coping with a memory of you brilliant and formidable, beautiful and bold burned into my existence with a searing fire
And I open myself to it
knowing it is material... mechanical
like the whirring of machines
chained in place as the sweatshop worker
Freedom would be a relief
an intensity mirrored by your own
lost are the stories, the teargas
the sensation of dark eyes and penetrating intelligence
Incidents, moments, milliseconds
interpreted through an algorithm
digesting culture, music, and danger
... the reality of struggle.
I can live in this heightened state
feeding off your memory
the silver spoon wrapped in dressings of poverty and contradiction
There are echoes of the future in our rivers and trees
quietly stagnating in smoke and fire
drowning in profit, you can hear the strain
of stooped backs and urgent desire
The wind, it cries as the sounding alarms
a cascade of injustice and fear
awashed in poverty and mechanized tumult
while the forests...they just dissappear
Can you hear the echoes over backbreaking labor
of the rich condemning us all
or those trapped in prisons or covered in blood
waiting for the ax to fall
Ya Basta! Enough! yell the struggling masses
let the strike be your introduction
gather your neighbors and all people who work
and seize the means of production
While I didn't think that this book contained the emotional force of the previous two books, it substantially furthered the back story which drives the story as well as creating a much more dangerous antagonist than either of the first 2 books.
While I dont think that the love story really clicks in this as much as the short one in the second book or in some other stories like the kingkiller chronicle, I still continue to appreciate the character's problem solving skills and the exploration of 2 new cities. I will be sad that the newest book of the series isn't out yet and I will have to find other stuff to read now!
I have been reading a lot of poetry lately, mostly old stuff from the late 19th, early 20th century of Yiddish, Italian, or Latin American origin. So I decided to give it a go myself.
Heartbreak and Hope
Caught in the past like a prisoner With walls my historical shrine hands are agape at the immovable shapes and barriers of mental design
I have lost many loved ones and comrades I love lost many struggles as well The pain accumulates daily and inside I am stuck here to dwell
Will we make it through this together
collecting tears and blood while we travel
will friendship and solidarity bind us or will hope of the people unravel
And though time continues eternal It breaks failures and losses away it destroys the rotting of friendships lost and prepares for a very new day
I may not be there to see it I may be crushed underneath its embrace but one of these days the workers will triumph with freedom for the human race
I am just going to straight up say that this is one of the best books I have ever read in my life. The first book of the series was very good and had to set up the characters and the world that they lived in. That being said, this book built further on their stories and made them seem even less one dimensional than the first book, which was great.
One of the reasons I think it is even better than the first, is that things dont always work out as intended. without ruining anything, I think that the first book allowed complete improvisation to result in situations that largely resulted in the good guys winning, etc... but this book was even darker than the gritty first book... which is saying something. While the plot could get increasingly complicated, i dont find that the characters reactions were anything that I wouldn't necessarily consider myself when faced with similar shitty decisions. 5 Stars! This series is a must read and has instantly jumped up to one of my favorite series of all time.
This book was amazing. It started out a tiny bit slow, but it is now up there with kingkiller chronicle as one of my favorite fiction books I have read in recent memory.
This gritty fiction book about young thieves in the underworld of something similar to an Italian city-state contains levels of drama, social commentary, and action par excellence. I would definitely recommend this book and can't wait to start reading the sequal.
I enjoyed this book far more than I did the second one in the series. The new characters were far more versatile and seemed more human and relatable in their motivations and in dealing with issues like tragedy and loss. It begins where the story left off, a few months later with a weird alien created ring nestled nearby Uranus. Human ships curiously probe in, not knowing what is coming next.
While it is not as good as the first book, I felt that the climax at the end was executed much better and the build up was definitely worth it. This is definitely a must read series and I have been powering through it.
The book is definitely a good read. However it was not as good as either the first or the third (I am currently almost done with it.) I felt that the new characters were a little difficult to really empathize with and there was a huge build up to a less than satisfying climax. The book is important in that it sets up the 3rd book, but the additional characters have not made any additional presence so far in the series.
It does introduce and explain ganymede and marine expeditionary armor. Also more captain Holden being Holden.
My brother suggested I read this book a few days ago when I was in a bit of a mental health crisis and it was the perfect medicine. I was hooked from the first chapter. Recently I have not been able to find a science fiction story that could be on a similar level to the fantasy series I have read through, but this one is a must pick up. It is a gritty story which takes place in the not to distant future as humans have expanded through the solar system in an age of discovery and settlement.
The story is extremely gripping and fluid, with turns and surprises which I respect. While the dialogue and character development are alright, the story really shines with its action sequences and description which makes you feel like you are in the heat of it. I definitely recommend this series to anyone who is looking to pick up a new science fiction saga and am already well into the second book.
This book took me a long time to read. Not because it was awful, but because life sorta got in the way and certain elements of the story were too disturbing to read in one sitting like I normally do with books. My friend Josh asked me to read it and even after the first chapter I was starting to feel a little bit off reading it. But after finishing it, that is actually the appeal of the book. It shows what the Western expansion, and US and Mexican genocide against the indigenous populations actual was in all its gritty violent forms.
The violence in the book was gratuitous at times and many of the main characters involved in such awful activity that it didn't deliver any uplifting feeling. The main character, the kid, which the book follows through pure survival instinct and later a PTSD desensitized outlook goes on from one outfit after another falling in with brutal people who in many cases receive official sanction and praise for their brutality. The book is a serious indictment on the romanticism of westerns, manifest destiny, toxic masculinity, and US exceptionalism. To that effect, it was quite amazing and really lives an indelible impact.
The Judge, is a particularly interesting character, because though he is larger than life and the most educated, uses his views of civilization to be the most unsavory of all.
The book is violent and disturbing, but if you can make it through that it is actually quite good and should leave you feeling a bit less proud to be an American.
I read this book on recommendation from a good friend in Providence. While I liked the slow build up of existential dread and the geographic/political background that the author was able to fit into a short story, I had a few issues with the book that prevented me from giving it a higher rating.
First of all, I thought that the magic system, was pretty silly. I understand that there is a long standing history of this sytem where words and items create magical effects. Thats not my concern,
Spoiler ahead......
There is a part where a character creates a miniature replica of a model ship, which somehow has everything working inside it, from the canons and lamps, to exact copies of books. I could understand if everything was just vague copies of it, but this seems absurd. A similar thing happened with a plant elevator which for some reason on its own (without attributing agency or intelligence) lifted the characters up a mountain, let them off at the top, and then unwraped around them without any additional commands other than the first one. I find that a bit sloppy.
Lastly, I thought that the end was seriously anti-climactic and this was unfortunate because after all the good build up, I was curious about how it would end. There was also a deus ex machina character who just saves the day right at the end. Ughhhh.... could have been so much better... thats why it only gets a 3 out of 5
Since I am both of those things, I figured I would express the snark that I couldn't over facebook and other social media. It is sometimes best to choose ones' battles and to develop peoples politics through experience with the system and success of collective action. Rubbing such things in peoples faces, while possibly cathartic after some peoples' religious experiences with Sanders, is not an ideal tactical decision.
I cant decide if the feeling of being powerless for song long as given a longing for a quick easy solution, one which has no basis in actual reality or historical fact. Messianic religious tradition came from the same roots and offer similar rewards for not actually collectively altering the material reality. Arguments against electoralism without competing results is worthless and can seem insulting for those who have no experience with the far left.
As a result, I am putting increasing emphasis on building popular power through actual activity. We are discussing setting up a food pantry as a serve the people project for a working class community. While in tune with our politics, this discussion actually emanated from multiple experiences with homeless people approaching us and asking for money for food....only for us to say "we actually have a lot of food left over from food not bombs" and giving them a whole packet of stuff. If, this can be replicated on an organizational level, it will pay enormous dividends and actually help alleviate some of the worst conditions of the capitalist system.
On the 105th anniversary of the fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist
factory, where the bosses deliberately locked the exits to prevent
breaks and 146 Italian and Jewish workers (mostly young women) died in
the blaze or jumping to their deaths, I will share my favorite poem
written four days later:
Neither battle nor fiendish pogrom
Fills this great city with sorrow;
Nor does the earth shudder or lightning rend the heavens,
No clouds darken, no cannon’s roar shatters the air.
Only hell’s fire engulfs these slave stalls
And Mammon devours our sons and daughters.
Wrapt in scarlet flames, they drop to death from his maw
And death receives them all.
Sisters mine, oh my sisters; brethren
Hear my sorrow:
See where the dead are hidden in dark corners,
Where life is choked from those who labor.
Oh, woe is me, and woe is to the world
On this Sabbath
When an avalanche of red blood and fire
Pours forth from the god of gold on high
As now my tears stream forth unceasingly.
Damned be the rich!
Damned be the system!
Damned be the world!
Over whom shall we weep first?
Over the burned ones?
Over those beyond recognition?
Over those who have been crippled?
Or driven senseless?
Or smashed?
I weep for them all.
Now let us light the holy candles
And mark the sorrow
Of Jewish masses in darkness and poverty.
This is our funeral,
These our graves,
Our children,
The beautiful, beautiful flowers destroyed,
Our lovely ones burned,
Their ashes buried under a mountain of caskets.
There will come a time
When your time will end, you golden princes. Meanwhile,
Let this haunt your consciences:
Let the burning building, our daughters in flame Be the nightmare that destroys your sleep,
The poison that embitters your lives,
The horror that kills your joy.
And in the midst of celebrations for your children,
May you be struck blind with fear over the Memory of this red avalanche
Until time erases you.
--Morris Rosenfield, yiddish slum poet, 1911
I dont know if my mom is reading this but I just wanted to express relief that after my dad's passing, she was so vigilant on mamograms, because it saved her life. By having early detection, she was able to discover breast cancer early, get the tumor removed, and get started on radiation.
She did all of this with record speed and without falling apart, getting chromosomal tests, testing her lymph nodes, and spending several days at different doctors offices. The same mother who is afraid to pull off a band-aid, look at a needle, and who gets shivers even thinking of a tattoo was willing to get a double mastectomy if she had to. It is hard to express the feeling of loss with one parent and I feel very fortunate that my mom will stay with us. <3 <3
So I thought to celebrate I would share a picture of my mom from 1969. Shes the one on the right.
I began compiling a list of Yiddish Anarchist songs and spread out to include a number of songs I like. If you want, I plan on including more in here over time and will eventually write the histories of each of these songs. Meanwhile there are a bunch more which could be found by searching Daniel Kahn's work. In addition, I may not have gotten the translations perfectly for all of them, so please leave comments on things I can correct. Enjoy!
In Kampf ( In Struggle)
Hated are we, and driven from our homes,
Tortured and persecuted, even to blood;
And wherefore? 'Tis because we love the poor,
The masses of mankind, who starve for food.
We are shot down, and on the gallows hanged,
Robbed of our lives and freedom without ruth,
Because for the enslaved and for the poor
We are demanding liberty and truth.
But we will not be frightened from our path
By darksome prisons or by tyranny;
We must awake humanity from sleep,
Yea, we must make our brothers glad and free.
Secure us fast with fetters made of iron,
Tear us like beasts of blood till life departs,
'Tis but our bodies that you will destroy,
Never the sacred spirit in our hearts.
You cannot kill it, tyrants of the earth!
Our spirit is a plant immortal, fair;
Its petals, sweet of scent and rich of hue,
Are scattered wide, are blooming everywhere.
In thinking men and women now they bloom,
In souls that love the light and righteousness.
As they strive on toward duty's sacred goal,
Nature herself doth their endeavor bless—
To liberate the poor and the enslaved
Who suffer now from cold and hunger's blight,
And to create for all humanity
A world that shall be free, that shall be bright;
A world where tears no longer shall be shed,
A world where guiltless blood no more shall flow,
And men and women, like clear-shining stars,
With courage and with love shall be aglow.
You may destroy us, tyrants! 'Twill be vain.
Time will bring on new fighters strong as we;
For we shall battle ever, on and on,
Nor cease to strive till all the world is free!
In the Streets (In Ale Gasn)
Everywhere that you go
the streets are full of strikes
boys and girls, everyone
are talking higher wages
boys and girls, everyone
are talking higher wages
Enough of breaking backs
and still having to borrow
call a strike comrades
let's free ourselves
call a strike comrades
let's free ourselves
Brothers and sisters, all gather round
together we are strong enough to bring the tsar down
Hey hey down with the police
Down with the autocracy in Russia
Hey Hey Daloy Politsey
Down with the autocracy in Russia
Sisters and brothers we can do this together
Bury Nikolai along with his mother
Hey hey down with the police
Down with the autocracy in Russia
Hey Hey Daloy Politsey
Down with the autocracy in Russia
Only yesterday, he pushed a garbage cart
and now he's become a capitalist
Hey hey down with the police
Down with the autocracy in Russia
Hey Hey Daloy Politsey
Down with the autocracy in Russia
How Long oh How Long?
Rent Money (Dire Gelt)
" Chorus:
Rent Money and oi oi oi
Rent Money and oi God
Rent Money and policemen
Rent Money one must pay!
The landlord's lackey arrives
Takes off his little hat
And if we pay no rent money
He hangs out a dispossession notice
Along comes the Landlord
With his thick stick
And if we pay no rent money
He puts the beds out in the street!
Why should I pay rent?
The stove is broken
Why should I pay rent?
When I have nothing to cook with
Barikadn:
“Fathers, mothers and children
Build barricades
And groups of workers
Walk about in the streets.
At dawn, Father left home
To go to the factory.
He will not come back at all
To the room today.
The children know very well
That Father will not come.
He is out on the street,
Carrying his gun.
Mother also went out
To the street to sell apples.
The pots and pans
Stand orphaned in the kitchen.
There will be no supper,
Hannaleh tells everyone,
Because Mother has gone out
To help Father.
Suddenly: crack! A bullet
Pierces the little room,
Missing Hannaleh
And leaving a hole in the wall.
If that’s how things are, says Hannaleh,
Then, children, come with me!
Motye, bring the basket.
Meyerke, bring the table.
We’ll bring the bureau drawers
And the old barrel.
We’ll build barricades here
In the middle of the neighborhood.
The barricade stands.
Nobody stays in the room.
The police pass by running;
Children throw stones onto the street.
Supper? What supper?
The cannons roar.
The children of the house
Help their parents.
Fathers, mothers, children
Build barricades
And groups of workers
Walk about in the streets.”
March of the Unemployed (Arbetlose Marsch)
"One two three four,
Yes, we are the unemployed!
Since months we haven't heard
the sound of tools in the factory,
they lie cold and forgotten,
the rust eats them alive.
So we roam along the streets,
like the rich doing nothing,
like the rich doing nothing.
One two three four,
Yes, we are the unemployed!
Without cloths, without home
our bed consists of soil
if someone has a meal
we do share everything
we drink water like the rich do wine
we down it we down it
One two three four
Yes, we are the unemployed!
For years we have worked so hard!
and created more and more
Houses, Palaces, Cities and Countries
for a bunch of wastrel
What is our reward for this?
Hunger, misery and unemployment
Hunger, misery and unemployment
One two three four
so now we do march!
Unemployed, step by step
and sing our song the song
of a new world where free people are living freely unemployed is not a single hand
in this new free country
in this new free country."
Oh you Foolish Little Zionists
Oh you foolish little zionists with your utopian mentality you'd better go down to the factory and learn the workers reality you want to take us to Jerusalem so we can die as a nation we'd rather stay in the diaspora and fight for our liberation
To the Bund (Tsum Bund)
Beneath the salt sea of humanity's weeping
A terrible chasm abides
It couldn't be darker, it couldn't be deeper
It's stained with a bloody red tide
And thousands of years have created this chasm
Of piety, hatred, and pain
And for thousands of years all humanity's weeping
Flows like a limitless rain
So much of this sea has been filled with the sorrows
Endured by the suffering Jews
But only the tears of the poor ones are bloody
The rich cry as clear as the dew
Yes only the worker, the pauper, the beggar
Belong to the bloody abyss
While those you call “brother,” the rich and the greedy,
Fly high overhead in their bliss
The ocean flows over and floods out the levees
There isn't a hero in sight
Yes where are the ones that will stand at the ready
To dive in the chasm and fight
Yes, who will at last free the worker from slavery,
Give hunger its final relief?
And who will be guiding the pathway to freedom,
To brotherhood, justice and peace?
The children of wealth, the enlightened, the clergy,
"Into Zion!" the call the Hebrews
We’ve heard this old story before from our enemies
“A ghetto for the eternal Jew”
With Zion we answer the prayers of our fathers
From deep in their graves they must call
While souls who are living are hungry and crying
To them we are deaf as the wall
Messiah and Jewry are both dead and buried
Another messiah is come
"The new Jewish worker" the banner will carry
To signal that justice is done
The world will be freed and be healed by this hero,
Who dives to the root of its wound.
In Russia, in Vilna, in Poland all hail now
The Great Jewish Worker’s Bund!
Di Shvue (Song of the Jewish Bund)
(Lyrics Included)
The Tailor Song (Utt Da Zay)
This is how the tailor stitches
This is how he sews so well! (Repeated with a harmony)
He sews and sews the whole week long,
And earns a guilder with a hole in the middle. (Repeated with a harmony)
This is how the tailor stitches
This is how he sews so well! (Repeated with a harmony)
A tailor sews and sews and sews
Eats the plague but not any bread! (Repeated with a harmony)
This is how the tailor stitches
This is how he sews so well! (Repeated with a harmony)…"
"10 Brothers"
Ten brother we have been. we did trade with linen one of us has died
and then we were nine
Chorus:
Oj, Schmerl, with the fiddle
Tewje with the bass
do you play me a song
in the middle of the alley
oj oj oj oj oj
oj oj oj oj oj
do you play me a song
in the middle of the gas (original line is "in the alley")
We were nine brothers and we traded in cargo. One died and eight were left...
We were eight brothers and we traded in candles...One died and seven were left...
We were seven brothers and we traded in baked goods...One died and six were left...
We were six brothers and we traded in stockings...One died and five were left...
We were five brothers and we traded in beer...One died and four were left...
We were four brothers and we traded in lead...One died and three were left...
We were three brothers and we traded in hay...One died and two were left...
We were two brothers and we traded in bones...
(Original last verse)
I was one brother and I traded in candles. I die every day because I have nothing to eat.
The
song was altered in the concentration camps-- the yiddish word “alley”
sounds like the word gas. An alternative last verse was added to
original:
One brother I remain
whom shall I cry with?
The others have been murdered
Who shall remember their names?
Yidl with the fiddle
Moyshe with the bass
hear my last song
I am led to the gas.
Mayn Rue Platz (Song about the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire)
Don't look for me where myrtles are green.
You will not find me there, my beloved.
Where lives wither at the machines,
There is my resting place.
Don't look for me where birds sing.
You will not find me there, my beloved.
I am a slave where chains ring,
There is my resting place.
Don't look for me where fountains spray.
You will not find me there, my beloved.
Where tears flow and teeth gnash,
There is my resting place.
And if you love me with true love,
So come to me, my good beloved,
And cheer my gloomy heart
And make sweet my resting place.
The Jewish Faith is this and this and this” EKH LYULI LYULI (Russian..not yiddish)
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – you have to get up early
you have to get up early, pour water onto your fingertips,
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – pour water onto your finger tips
pour water onto your fingertips, say the first morning prayer
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – say the first morning prayer
say the first morning prayer, go to synagogue
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – go to synagogue
go to the synagogue, put on your tallis and tephillin
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – put on your tallis and tephillin
put on your tallis and tephillin, dedicate your soul to the Single and Unknown One
and never close your eyes
stay alert and conscious,
don’t take anything for an ultimate truth,
question everything,
never get into any mental trap
never get into any conceptual conundrum,
this is what Lenin teaches us to do,
this is how old uncle Lacan teaches us to behave,
read Zizek, translate ‘Borderline’,
be rash enough to change what wants to be changed
and to create by yourself what wants to be created
we don’t have to wait for other people to do our job for us
yesterday it was too early, tomorrow it will be too late, do it here and now
think of yourself in terms of class struggle
concrete analyses of concrete circumstances
the feeling of the moment
put aside all sentiments
all those lyuli da lyuli
they are like sweet pills for the ideologically retarded
and we, we look around without any rose-colored glasses,
and without black-tinted decadent glasses either
it is possible to be both a realist and an optimist
it is possible to wait for the future
but not to see dreams, not to tell fortunes
just to create your fortune by yourself
by means of a direct action
which is sometimes unnoticeable
but this is what makes you immortal
our ancestors knew this, and they won
we shall follow them and liberate ourselves,
and songs shall we sing, and vodka shall we drink
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – vodka shall we drink
ekh lyuli lyuli da lyuli – lechaim shall we drink
--------------------------------
שיר פועלים באידיש - MAKHNES GEYEN “Forward, Let Us Move!”
What Is to Be Done? by Nikolai Chernyshevsky
