Showing posts with label Korea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Korea. Show all posts

Saturday, July 10, 2010

A list of books

This quiet, gray afternoon, a patron came in with quite a list of books; most were out, but she did find a handful to take with her; the others I put on hold. Quite an interesting selection:

Zeitoun, Dave Eggers (2009).

A ticket to the circus: a memoir. Norris Church Mailer (2010).

The house at Riverton, Kate Morton (2009).

Hannah's list, Debbie Macomber (2010).

Bombay time, Thrity Umrigar (2001).

Day after night, Anita Diamant (2009).

Welcome to Utopia: notes from a small town, Karen Valby (2010).

The cleanest race: how North Koreans see themselves and why it matters, B.R. Myers.

Somewhere inside: one sister's captivity in North Korea and the other's fight to bring her home, Laura Ling and Lisa Ling (2010).

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Today

First two hours, covered Children's; questions: books about Spring, rainbow, for pre-K; Spiderman.

At 11, up to Reference, question about Marco Polo's travels. Man said he had already traveled to the East, while in the service (Armed Forces). Wants to follow some of Polo's route. Asked about a city called Kamul. Found a result that puts it in western Iran. (Just noticed there is also a Kamul-li, in Korea.) Also asked about Tabriz (in Iran, as well). Said he'll probably go to China; fascinated with the East. I endorsed Venice.

He already has this book, but when I showed him the one I knew, he became enthusiastic, and took it with him.

Marco Polo : from Venice to Xanadu / by Laurence Bergreen.


This book (right) is the companion to the show I saw on PBS. Found it online, showed him it can be watched online.




In the afternoon, back at Reference, a young man came over to the desk, looking for a book on SAT Math; alas, our copy is out. He returned, asking for The talented tenth, by W. E. B. DuBois. We own a book, The Negro problem; a series of articles by representative American Negroes of to-day, which contains that essay. A new one to me; there is always more to learn.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

When Korean Culture Flourished


Mention is made of the Imjin War, 1592-1598.

Two Japanese invasions of Korea and subsequent battles on the Korean peninsula took place from 1592 to 1598. Toyotomi Hideyoshi led the newly unified Japan into the first invasion (1592-1593) with the professed goal of conquering Korea, the Jurchens, and Ming Dynasty China.[7] The second invasion (1594-1596) was aimed rather solely as a retaliatory offensive against the Koreans.[7] The invasions are also known as Hideyoshi's invasions of Korea, the Seven Year War (in reference to its span) and the Imjin War (Hangul: 임진왜란 - lit. Japanese Invasion of the Imjin Year), in reference to the "Imjin" year of the sexagenary cycle in Korean.[8] The Japanese name of the war means, "Joseon Campaign"; and the Chinese, "the Eastern Pacification".[9]

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

MacArthur's Reputation

The Question of MacArthur's Reputation
By Robert H. Ferrell
(University of Missouri Press, 111 pages, $19.95)


In an attack that Douglas MacArthur bragged about, and for which he received a medal, an important breakthrough was made on the Hindenburg Line.

MacArthur's heroism on the Châtillon soon became part of his legend and, in the coming decades, figured prominently in his biography. Within weeks of the breakthrough he was bragging about it.

Yes, this is the army man who defied his Commander-in-Chief, President Truman, the very same army man who insisted a line of nuclear weapons be drawn across the Korean Peninsula in order to slow down the Communists. Turns out that Douglas MacArthur was a blowhard. It was not just the liberals thought so; it was the truth. Spin control managed to suppress the truth for decades, but not forever.

MacArthur never fought shy of the limelight – and history has forgiven him, not least because of his heroic leadership in World War II and the Korean War. Yet it is shocking to learn that he wasn't actually present on the Côte de Châtillon on Oct. 16 and that he didn't lead his men through the wire; he was back at a command post behind the lines.

Thus, his words that division commanders must instill 'the fighting spirit' into their commands by personal presence and example' were empty. He lied.

I have long wondered just how heroic this Army officer really was; he seemed very much an usurper, a blowhard, a manipulator. Long ago I read that the well-known (I refuse to call it famous) landing in the Philippines that fulfilled his I shall return pronouncement was staged: he had the photographer take the shot again, so that he would look appropriately heroic. The thesis of this book seems to agree with that judgement.

The attack was led by two exceptional officers: Maj. Lloyd D. Ross and Lt. Col. Walter E. Bare. They instilled the "fighting spirit" in the 167th and 168th Regiments, and they rallied the lines. It is they who deserve the credit that MacArthur claimed for himself.

And his reputation was based on stolen credit. What kind of honor is that?

This extraordinary falsehood is the impetus for Robert H. Ferrell's "The Question of MacArthur's Reputation." Having written widely before on the Meuse-Argonne campaign, Mr. Ferrell was bothered by the contradictions in the accounts of Châtillon. He delved into the archives and, in this rigorously researched and densely constructed historical essay, demolishes MacArthur's pretensions. It isn't just that the general stole credit. When his men failed to take the Châtillon on Oct. 14, he ordered them on a suicidal bayonet assault, at night, against fortified positions. The protests of Ross and Bare saw the order countermanded, which probably saved MacArthur's career.

Reckless, too, not just a liar.

Mr. Ferrell makes little attempt to explain MacArthur's actions. He notes that Gen. John Pershing, the leader of the American Expeditionary Force, badly needed a victory. His first two attacks in the Argonne had failed dismally and the third was failing when Strom and his men sprang open the Dame Marie. MacArthur's regiments then gave the AEF a taste of success. MacArthur was a dashing and convenient hero. As the commanding officer, though, he would have enjoyed a large part of the glory even without claiming to have led the assault itself. Legends are made on the battlefield, where facts are often hard to establish. Mr. Ferrell has established a big one – that, in this case, MacArthur lied. It is up to future biographers to sort out what such a fantasy means to a soldier's reputation.

And I wonder how often this victory of MacArthur's is included in biographies?