Dear readers,
Welcome to the beefcake edition of Read Like the Wind. Our theme here is bulk: The two books that follow are big, brawny tomes that you can repurpose as dumbbells when you’re finished reading.
Grab a gallon jug of water, strap on your heart rate monitor and let’s get started!
—Molly
“Conversations of Goethe,” by Johann Peter Eckermann, translated by John Oxenford
Nonfiction, 1850 in this translation
Six weeks ago a commenter suggested I read “Conversations of Goethe.” Thank you, commenter. The book, a version of which was first published in 1836, records encounters between an elderly Goethe and a youngster named Eckermann who served as assistant/archivist/editor/No. 1 fan. It was a dud upon release and Eckermann wound up forced to sell his valuables to buy food. More proof that the world is cruel and unjust.
After Eckermann’s death, however, the work gained appreciation. Nietzsche casually referred to “Conversations” as “the best German book there is.” (A comment that has been converted, inevitably, into blurb copy on the back of my edition.)
The book intersperses minor episodes from Goethe’s daily life with preposterously insightful comments on the nature of ethics, painting, ambition, music, theater, poetry and criticism. One moment the author is advancing a proto-“Anxiety of Influence” theory; next he’s griping about tacky interior design trends. We receive all of this through the unobtrusive medium of Eckermann, who shapes and edits his raw material in the manner of a reality TV producer — if reality TV shows were about geniuses instead of morons!
Read if you like: Aphorisms, being regaled, Boswell’s “The Life of Samuel Johnson,” clouds, Rousseau
Available from: Da Capo (or free online, or in a new translation coming soon from Penguin Classics)
There are two ways to slay this beast: Read straight through if you wish to replicate a college survey course or adopt the “panning for gold” method, in which you jump around collecting precious nuggets.
I opted for the second, because I had a narrow goal in mind — comparing the educational systems of various city-states. But a reader could also sift for info about, say, scented oils of antiquity, colonial expansion, protection rackets or interesting ways to die. Did you know that the wine-loving poet Anacreon died at 85 when (allegedly) a grape pit got stuck in his throat?
Durant is a master of “user-friendly history.” His timelines are neat, his prose clear, his facts always clothed in context — never presented in stark nudity. Surveys like this offer a remedy to the horror of information overload because they restore a sense of chronology.
Read if you like: Geography, Hegel, Melville, quiet contemplation, loud contemplation
Available from: Free online, or check library/used bookstore
