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Goleman, Daniel
Goonan, Kathleen Ann
Grahame, Kenneth
Green, Simon R
Gross, Andrew (see Patterson, James)
Guerrier, Simon
Daniel Goleman
Emotional Intelligence
Emotional Intelligence
======================
First published in 1995, the bestselling Emotional Intelligence has
played a huge role in popularising the idea that there is an important aspect of
intelligence that is connected to our emotional life and which goes beyond the
narrow boundaries of IQ testing. Over the last ten years, it has inspired loads
of further books on the subject of emotional intelligence, which is also often
labelled "EQ", or emotional quotient.
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This is, in fact, my second read-through of Emotional Intelligence, after
a gap of about four years, and although there are still aspects of this book
that I agree with, I've also become just a little more critical than before.
Maybe it's because I'm older now. Or maybe I've noticed different things this
time.
There's still much that I would go along with, however. The range of abilities
that comes under IQ is narrow, and traditional intelligence tests focus
on logical, numerical, verbal and spatial problems that can be solved rapidly
under test conditions. They do not take into account real-life problems where
creativity and lateral thinking can often provide better solutions than brute
logic, and where maturity, self-awareness, and wisdom are the determining factors.
There is the seeming paradox where a person scoring high in traditional IQ can
nevertheless be completely at sea in the "real world", unable to cope well with
the demands of relationships, parenthood, or the work-life balance.
The concept of emotional intelligence (originating from the work of psychologists
John D Meyer and Peter Salovey) goes some way to address this issue. Daniel
Goleman lists five "domains" or competencies - identifying and understanding
emotions, managing emotional states, being able to enter emotional states linked
with achievement and success, being sensitive to the emotions of others, and
being able to have successful interpersonal relationships (this is necessarily
a very rough summary.)
Again, I would go along with much of this. I believe it is important to be
self-aware, sensitive to the feelings of others, and able to have meaningful
relationships, no argument there. Being cold, hyper-critical, insensitive or
overly aggressive will not help anyone who wants to be a better parent, boss
or lover. Disasters occur when people "lose it" and fall prey to emotional
"hijacking" - road rage and air rage incidents are good examples of this.
However, I still have my reservations.
Firstly, I find the concept of "intelligence" to be nebulous and controversial,
even without involving the emotional dimension. What is intelligence? No-one
really knows for certain. We all use the word with confidence, and for decades,
psychologists have been testing for general intelligence (or g) without
being able to define it convincingly. Where can we draw the line between
intelligence and some sort of other ability or attribute which is not
intelligence?
This is the problem here. If I solve an arithmetic problem, psychologists would
say I'm displaying numerical intelligence, which would fall under the umbrella
of IQ. If I avert an argument with an aggressive neighbour, and resolve the
matter using tact, diplomacy, empathy, etc., Daniel Goleman would say that I'm
displaying emotional intelligence. So where does it end? Am I displaying
physical intelligence, as I manoeuvre my shopping trolley around a crowded
supermarket? Musical intelligence, as I hum my favourite tune in the shower,
with perfect pitch? Spiritual intelligence, if a deftly-worded prayer brings me
swift results?
Okay, I'm being facetious, but can you see what I'm getting at, here? Where is
the dividing line between intelligence and plain old being-good-at-
something?
Another thing that occurred to me is that sociopathic individuals can fake
empathy. They can manipulate others, convincing their victims that they care
for them and are genuine. This is, of course, unpleasant, but is it not also
intelligent? I'm sure that Daniel Goleman would say that a sociopath does not
have emotional intelligence, but then we would need to have genuineness or
congruence as a core part of emotional intelligence. Which then goes back to the
question of how far we can stretch the concept of "intelligence."
Well, I could go on. Despite its weaknesses, I found Emotional Intelligence
an interesting book with some valid points to make, i.e. that our emotional
life is important, and that it is useful (and often crucial) that we are aware
of our emotions and take some steps to manage them. Also, despite the fact that
Goleman does not refer back to the studies by Meyer and Salovey as much as
perhaps he should have done, in providing the field of emotional intelligence
plenty of healthy publicity, I think he has indirectly done them a bit of a
favour.
© Alex Cull, 19th September, 2005
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Kathleen Ann Goonan
Kathleen Goonan's homepage: http://www.goonan.com
Light Music
Light Music
===========
Crescent City, a vast hi-tech structure floating in the ocean, is preparing
to launch itself into space towards the source of the alien Signal, which has
wiped out radio comunication on Earth. A pirate attack disrupts this plan and
corrupts the city's navigational data; engineer Jason Peabody is sent on a
mission to Houston to steal the data again from the defunct NASA Space Center.
However, this proves to be not so straightforward ...
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I read and finished Light Music without it fully dawning on me that it is
the last book of a quartet of novels starting with Queen City Jazz. It's
one of those grey-area novels that is not merely an episode in a series but then
doesn't entirely stand alone, either - in other words, it might have helped a bit
if I had read the others first. Instead I started with Light Music, just
jumped in and waded (rather slowly) to the end.
It is ironic that a novel where story-telling is itself a theme should have a
story which is confusing, unclear and difficult to follow. The most memorable
thread is the one with Angelina and an animated doll Chester, a companion she
picks up on her journey from Argentina to Paris; this appeared to be the most
coherent plotline - even so, after reaching the end I wondered whether she ever
did find her son, and found I simply couldn't remember if she did or not (or what
actually happened to her in the end). This is in character for the whole book,
filled as it is with journeys that just seem to go on and on, bewildering
encounters and characters that are difficult to identify with or care for.
Yes there are brilliant ideas in here, one of my all-time favourites being
nanotechnology. But readers do not live by ideas alone, we need to be told a
story and want to be motivated enough to keep turning the pages. We need to care
about the people we meet in these pages, or at least be curious about what
happens to them next. In Light Music there were too many extraordinary
things happening to extraordinary people for me to care much whether or not they
reached their goals.
Having said that, maybe I'll get to read Queen City Jazz or one of the
newer books by Kathleen Ann Goonan, and who knows, my opinion might just change.
© Alex Cull, 30th May 2003
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Kenneth Grahame
The Wind in the Willows
The Wind in the Willows
=======================
Once described as the best-loved children's book of the twentieth century,
The Wind in the Willows is the tale of four friends - who also happen to be
animals. For this is the ever-popular story of Mole, Rat, Badger and, of course,
Toad.
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For me, The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame is one of those childhood
books (like The Hobbit, like The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) that were not
so much well-loved books – although they were and are, of course – than they
were a vital part of my inner life, as personal as the memories of dreams.
It was an interesting and worthwhile experience, therefore, to re-read Willows
this year, as an adult. There were some things I had never forgotten – the
escapades of Toad, and Mole's rediscovery of his riverbank home, also the Wild
Wood. There were also details I had forgotten but were brought splendidly back to
life, upon re-reading the book. And there were things, curious things, that I
had never really noticed before, but now strike me as intriguing and strange.
The story itself is very simple, and a summary might be: Mole meets Rat, Mole
and Rat meet Badger, Mole, Rat and Badger then get involved in Toad's
misadventures and help him to recapture his ancestral home. And that's
basically it, apart from a few chapters where odd, unconnected things happen.
It's a bit like a river, really; meandering along, slow here, then fast, then a
bit slow again, nothing too complicated. Take away the saga of Toad, and there
wouldn't, narrative-wise, be very much left.
But that doesn't matter. Grahame's delightful characters carry the show: timid
yet plucky Mole, cheerful Rat, gruff and sensible Badger and of course the
incomparably impulsive, irresponsible, lovable, larger-than-life Toad of Toad
Hall. Their interactions and conversations are a joy to read. And the world they
inhabit is also a joy, a sort of cosy, rural, sunlit Edwardian riverscape that
never existed in the "real world" but nevertheless does exist, in the imaginations
of those who have read and loved this book.
Many things are just as I remembered them. As a child, I found the Wild Wood scary,
and this episode still has a sinister, unsettling charge to it. Sitting in my warm
room in front of the computer, I can read it with equanimity; outdoors in the
wintry dark, this is the sort of stuff than can come back to haunt. And Badger's
house – you know, if I ever became single again, this is the kind of place I
would like to inhabit, a bachelor's comfortable, snug, fire-lit den, preferably
underground, with lots of passages and well-stocked larders and, of course, a
stout door to keep the Wild Wood out...
There are other aspects of the book of which, as a child, I was completely
oblivious. Like the fact that the characters could be said to lead rather
privileged lives, defending the interests of the landed gentry against a horde
of bolshie upstarts and lower-class types. Or the inconsistencies - the
characters are talking animals, who dress and behave like humans, but exist in
a world where there are also animals (such as horses) who look and behave just
like animals, and humans who are humans but who are also somehow the same size
as the animals (how else could Toad disguise himself convincingly as a
washerwoman?)
However, it's best not to expend too much analytical thought on all that, for it
matters not a whit. This tale exists outside normal time, space and historical
realities, and it abides by dream-logic, which is perfectly fine, and logic
enough for the story's purposes.
There are a couple of strange things, though, not noticed much when I was reading
it as a child, but which now stand out. The abandoned underground city, with its
vaults and pillars and pavements, which is connected by passageways to Badger's
home. And the unearthly but benevolent Presence encountered by Mole and Rat, when
they go searching for the missing Little Portly (Chapter VII, The Piper at the
Gates of Dawn.) Lost cities and pagan gods, what can it all mean? Well, I'm
not sure if I'll ever know, but again there's nothing to lose sleep over. The
reader's sense of wonder is engaged, and that's the thing that matters.
The Wind in the Willows was first published in October 1908, almost exactly a
hundred years ago, and since then it has not lost a fraction of its ability to
entertain and enchant.
Happy centenary, old friend.
© Alex Cull, 23rd November 2008
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Simon R Green
Blood and Honour
Blood and Honour
================
When King Malcolm of Redhart suddenly dies, his three sons vie fiercely for the
throne. Prince Viktor seems to be the best of a bad bunch, but is mysteriously
indisposed. Enter Jordan, down-on-his-luck actor extraordinaire, who is
transformed by sorcery to resemble the sick Prince - not only must he somehow
play Viktor convincingly enough to save his skin, but also contend with the
hellish, chaotic forces of the Unreal.
================================================================================
I read Blood and Honour recently over the course of several gym sessions,
as I pedalled away on an exercise bike. It therefore took a few days to finish,
but I think I could have otherwise easily whizzed through it in an afternoon.
That's definitely one of the novel's good features - it's short and to the point.
This story certainly moves like crazy and never drags. No time for leisurely
descriptions or long, involved dialogue, but on to the next fight! The pace
becomes frenetic as the Unreal begins to invade more and more of Castle Midnight,
like a sort of galloping dry-rot infestation, slicing, dicing, devouring and
overwhelming hordes of hapless courtiers and guards, as it takes hold. I found
myself turning the pages faster and faster as the end approached (pedalling
faster too!)
The characters are rather basically rendered, and each one could probably be
summed up in a single sentence, something like "honest and loyal but hides a
guilty secret". Despite this, I found myself warming to the character of Jordan
and cheering him as he takes on the bad guys and gets ever deeper over his head.
It has to be said, the names and places in this novel have a generic quality,
as if they came from a kind of all-purpose fantasy-world construction kit. I
think a competent Dungeons-and-Dragons enthusiast could probably have generated
them all in half an hour, with the aid of the handbook plus a few dice.
So King Lear it ain't, but then it never set out to be. The book jacket
describes it as a "fun" read, and I would definitely agree. It helped me to
avoid boredom in the gym, and hey, I am also slightly fitter now, so it's been
a two-birds-with-one-stone sort of thing.
© Alex Cull, 30th April 2004
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Simon Guerrier
The Time Travellers
The Time Travellers
===================
The inhabitants of the TARDIS arrive in 2006 to find a very different London to
the one they had been expecting. England is at war, and under threat from an
airborne invasion by the South Africans, the Army is experimenting with time
travel, and there is a worrying proliferation of people named Colonel Andrews.
The Time Travellers is a Dr Who adventure featuring the First Doctor.
================================================================================
I haven't yet seen many of the original William Hartnell Doctor Who adventures.
Doctor Who (the show, not the character) is almost as old as me, and I would not
have been able to understand or appreciate the very first stories, due to the fact
that I was literally a baby at the time; neither have I caught up much by dint of
watching them on video or DVD. It is interesting, therefore, to read a First
Doctor novel; he seems to me like a brand-new character, and not very Who-like,
somehow.
The Time Travellers was a fairly good read, although it does have its
minus points, in my opinion. The characterisation is fine - Ian and Barbara are
pretty much how I've always imagined them, and Susan is just right, displaying
on occasion the unearthly and childlike qualities which mark her as being not
quite human. The Doctor is perfectly the crusty, rather devious old gentleman,
a far cry from some of his action-man future selves.
The second half of the novel is particularly good, as we are shown the effect
that harsh experiences have on the human personality, demonstrating that nurture
is just as important as nature. This is where the novel, as a time-travel story,
comes into its own, presenting us with "what if" scenarios that would have been
difficult to achieve otherwise.
We also learn that visiting the pub can be beneficial (note to self: go there
more often.)
Where the novel falters is in the first half, which is just plain confusing. The
Doctor and his companions are captured, escape, are recaptured, escape again,
and so on, interminably. The rabbit-like profusion of Colonel Andrews and his
duplicate selves served to first amuse, then bewilder and annoy me. Fiendish
complexity seems to be a hallmark of Doctor Who novels in general; maybe it's
just me, but my brain was definitely craving simpler fare at times.
One lapse I picked up was when the Doctor and his companions notice lots of
tiny lab animals running down a tube tunnel. Although they are looking at these
creatures from a distance and through a window, they are still able to read a
sequence of letters and digits tattooed onto each animal's back. I very much
doubt that this is physically possible.
In addition, the novel has quite a few references to the "Machine", which are
never explained; this is, in fact advanced computer WOTAN from the adventure
"The War Machines". A diehard fan would know this, but perhaps not the casual
reader (or indeed the not-so-knowledgeable fan such as myself.) Which raises
the question - just how much should Doctor Who books be written by fans for
fans? And how much of a fan do you need to be to get the most from a Doctor
Who book?
However, I mostly enjoyed The Time Travellers, which certainly seems
better written than many a Doctor Who novel I've read in the past. Once it has
settled down, and all the capturing/recapturing is over, it becomes a thoughtful
story about life choices, love, power, sacrifice and, of course, visiting the
pub. And there are some nice touches. The South African energy weapons do not
make boring sounds such as "zoosh". They go "vlorty!vlorty"! (Hoping this is not
a rude word in Afrikaans.)
I can't get this sound out of my head now. I'm sitting here in front of the
computer, saying "vlorty!vlorty!vlorty!" to myself. What a nutter.
Vlorty!vlorty!vlorty!vlorty!
© Alex Cull, 27th February 2006
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