Warm, witty recollections well-aware of their absurdity.
Absurdity and drama go hand in hand in Baysden’s witty, loopy memoir of his time as a Navy adviser during the Vietnam War.
This slim volume tells of the shenanigans Baysden and several of his colleagues got up to while he was serving as a U.S. Navy lieutenant. Over the course of a year starting in 1968, Baysden was a senior adviser to the Vietnamese in the Mekong Delta, based in and around Rach Gia (usually mispronounced as “rock jaw,” ergo the book’s title). For various reasons, Baysden’s posting was given a fair amount of resources and very little “adult supervision,” as Baysden puts it. On top of that, the advisers, including the author, were only on duty for five days out of every 10, allowing the misbehavior to reach impressive levels. Long-running poker games, frequent trips to every brothel (aka “ladies clubs”) within traveling distance, gambling on which traps would catch giant rats and in which order: these are only some of the events Baysden describes with good humor and plentiful wit. That’s not to say the horrors of war didn’t occasionally intrude, but those horrors—which Baysden describes with respect and sensitivity, even in cases of wild coincidence or absurdity—were not commonplace in his experience, a fact for which Baysden is profoundly and profusely grateful. Literature about the Vietnam conflict is replete with grim, powerful stories of hardship and loss, so Baysden’s memoir is immediately striking for the light, joyful attitude in its pages, without ignoring the realities on the ground. If there is a downside to the stories here, it’s that they are rather disjointed, presented seemingly in the order the author remembered them, with characters mentioned before they’re introduced and given context. Baysden is well-aware of this, however, outrightly stating it as an issue within the first few pages, so readers are at least forewarned. Still, fans of often hilarious literature that explores the ridiculous nature of war—including Catch-22, which Baysden explicitly references—will feel right at home.
Warm, witty recollections well-aware of their absurdity.Pub Date: Aug. 4, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-4834-3418-6
Page Count: 142
Publisher: Lulu
Review Posted Online: Sept. 22, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
From the national correspondent for PBS's MacNeil-Lehrer Newshour: a moving memoir of her youth in the Deep South and her role in desegregating the Univ. of Georgia. The eldest daughter of an army chaplain, Hunter-Gault was born in what she calls the ``first of many places that I would call `my place' ''—the small village of Due West, tucked away in a remote little corner of South Carolina. While her father served in Korea, Hunter-Gault and her mother moved first to Covington, Georgia, and then to Atlanta. In ``L.A.'' (lovely Atlanta), surrounded by her loving family and a close-knit black community, the author enjoyed a happy childhood participating in activities at church and at school, where her intellectual and leadership abilities soon were noticed by both faculty and peers. In high school, Hunter-Gault found herself studying the ``comic-strip character Brenda Starr as I might have studied a journalism textbook, had there been one.'' Determined to be a journalist, she applied to several colleges—all outside of Georgia, for ``to discourage the possibility that a black student would even think of applying to one of those white schools, the state provided money for black students'' to study out of state. Accepted at Michigan's Wayne State, the author was encouraged by local civil-rights leaders to apply, along with another classmate, to the Univ. of Georgia as well. Her application became a test of changing racial attitudes, as well as of the growing strength of the civil-rights movement in the South, and Gault became a national figure as she braved an onslaught of hostilities and harassment to become the first black woman to attend the university. A remarkably generous, fair-minded account of overcoming some of the biggest, and most intractable, obstacles ever deployed by southern racists. (Photographs—not seen.)
Pub Date: Nov. 1, 1992
ISBN: 0-374-17563-2
Page Count: 192
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 1992
Necessarily swift and adumbrative as well as inclusive, focused, and graceful.
A light-speed tour of (mostly) Western poetry, from the 4,000-year-old Gilgamesh to the work of Australian poet Les Murray, who died in 2019.
In the latest entry in the publisher’s Little Histories series, Carey, an emeritus professor at Oxford whose books include What Good Are the Arts? and The Unexpected Professor: An Oxford Life in Books, offers a quick definition of poetry—“relates to language as music relates to noise. It is language made special”—before diving in to poetry’s vast history. In most chapters, the author deals with only a few writers, but as the narrative progresses, he finds himself forced to deal with far more than a handful. In his chapter on 20th-century political poets, for example, he talks about 14 writers in seven pages. Carey displays a determination to inform us about who the best poets were—and what their best poems were. The word “greatest” appears continually; Chaucer was “the greatest medieval English poet,” and Langston Hughes was “the greatest male poet” of the Harlem Renaissance. For readers who need a refresher—or suggestions for the nightstand—Carey provides the best-known names and the most celebrated poems, including Paradise Lost (about which the author has written extensively), “Kubla Khan,” “Ozymandias,” “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” Wordsworth and Coleridge’s Lyrical Ballads, which “changed the course of English poetry.” Carey explains some poetic technique (Hopkins’ “sprung rhythm”) and pauses occasionally to provide autobiographical tidbits—e.g., John Masefield, who wrote the famous “Sea Fever,” “hated the sea.” We learn, as well, about the sexuality of some poets (Auden was bisexual), and, especially later on, Carey discusses the demons that drove some of them, Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath among them. Refreshingly, he includes many women in the volume—all the way back to Sappho—and has especially kind words for Marianne Moore and Elizabeth Bishop, who share a chapter.
Necessarily swift and adumbrative as well as inclusive, focused, and graceful.Pub Date: April 21, 2020
ISBN: 978-0-300-23222-6
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Yale Univ.
Review Posted Online: Feb. 8, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
© Copyright 2024 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
bookshelf
