ISP: The Crucible by Arthur Miller

The Crucible is the most emotionally effective piece of fiction I've read in my entire life. Never before have I been gripped with such emotion while reading a literary work. Genuine anger, stress, and frustration arose as a result of the plight of John Proctor and the victims of the Salem witch trials. Arthur Miller showcases his profound talent by taking two historical persecutions - the witch trials and the McCarthy trials of the 1950s - and drawing powerful parallels that carry political resonance to this day.

"Two Innocents in China": Conclusion

Overall, "Two Innocents" proved to be a brilliant read. It was a tender, non-partisan view of a people rooted in tradition dealing with an entirely new regime, and the uncertain future that they faced. There was no capitalist rah-rah cheerleading, nor any of the fawning apology sometimes afforded to Mao and his ilk by certain left-wing biographers.

From a travel point of view, "Two Innocents" provides tremendous incentive to visit China, and destroys the myth that it's a dangerous, angry place where you can be arrested for sneezing too loudly. It's almost impetus enough to visit Peking (now Beijing) just to see how much it's changed since Trudeau and Hebert first set foot there. There's such an intimate connection present in this true story of discovery that any reader visiting China for the first time will probably feel as if he's revisiting a country he's travelled before, a very long time ago.

The fifth chapter of "Two Innocents in China"

"Two Innocents" has proven to be more full of theme and intrigue than most novels I've read. The authors have brilliantly focused on four or five main points that they are trying to make, and they find fresh ways every time to introduce them. Once again, they compared the eager lust for obedience that devotees of Communism have to the evangelical fervour of diehard Christians. There is also a spectacular moment in this chapter where the duo realize that the Western prejudices Trudeau speaks of in the preamble towards the Chinese are very much reciprocated on the other side of the Pacific. The Chinese are taught to pity and distrust those who haven't found the True Way, much as Red-baiters in North America labeled any left-leaning public figure as a dirty commie.

The fifth chapter of "Two Innocents in China"

I'm continually impressed by how each chapter of this book encompasses a different political theme. The last chapter tackled crime and punishment under the new regime - this chapter focuses on the rights of the minorities. Women are treated exceptionally well in 1960's communist China, almost to an extreme. They are not allowed to stay home and become stereotypical mothers, but are instead forcefully encouraged to join the workforce and safeguard their equality. Most likely this is also because the State wants to keep Chinese children in a state-run Community Daycare Centre, to teach them the principles of Marxism at an early age.

We also learn for the first time that Mao has taken a keen interest in the Canadian delegation due to their interest in the minority issue. This is an excellent plot device that hooks the reader. In almost every scene, a poster of Mao is present - how fascinating must it be when they finally get to meet him.

The fourth chapter of "Two Innocents in China"

Today, they visit a Chinese prison, where prisoners are kept in barless cells with large windows that allow air and sunlight to filter in. The officials explain that they do not punish, but instead educate the prisoners - a euphemism for indoctrination, the teaching of Marxist ideas to replace old habits. I was reminded of Orwell's 1984, where the prisoners are captured for "thoughtcrime" and brainwashed into being wholehearted supporters of the regime that controls them. Obviously Chinese culture was not as punitive as it is now - you can be executed for trafficking drugs or pornography - but there are ominous hints of the changes to come.

Once again the theme of bureaucracy vs. decency crops up. Though the tour guide is very kind, he is followed by two or three scribes who take down everything he says in case the Canadian visitors misquote him.

The third chapter of "Two Innocents in China"

Here we get our first taste of the blend of traditional Chinese ceremony and the new rules associated with Communism. Temples and shrines to the Buddhist gods have been converted into shrines for Mao and his cronies, a switch that doesn't seem to have made much of a difference in the lives of the average Chinese person. What's the difference between hanging a painting of Buddha on your wall and a painting of Mao? Both are fat, jovial men who are thought to have brought enlightenment to a troubled age.

Another clever metaphor arises in their discussions of the scourge of flies that carpet China and most of the hotter Asian countries. Apparently, the Chinese government, frustrated by the immense amounts of insects in the area, orchestrated a propaganda campaign that called the swatting of flies a "patriotic action." Across the land, the fly population dropped drastically, as people rushed to kill as many as they could.

Trudeau and Hebert conclude: "It made you think."

The Second Chapter of "Two Innocents in China"

In the second chapter, we get our first glimpse at the generosity of the Chinese people, as well as the cold machination of their bureaucracy. It's a distinction that Trudeau and Hebert will carry throughout the book, and one that many people have pointed out about Cuba as well. Far from the cynical philosophical atheism of Soviet life, the Chinese people seem genuinely hopeful that their path to true Socialism is assured. They cannot, however, escape the crushing weight of totalitarian government, a weight that in the last quarter of the twentieth century will topple the happy optimism that comes with a fresh start.

I also like how Trudeau and Hebert use food as an analogy for the struggle of the working class. "[650 million people] can't afford lacquered duck every Sunday. But at the present rate of progress in China they are confident of being able to achieve it some day."

The First Chapter of "Two Innocents in China"

The first chapter is very much the equivalent of a stall-window. They say you should read fifty pages of a book before you give up on it, but most people only last about fifteen. If you ignore the various introductions and practical editorials that precede it, the first chapter of "Two Innocents" is a lovely display of wares indeed. The writing is snappy and humorous, irreverent and edifying - once again analogous to Trudeau's legendary time as Prime Minister.

Both these men are clearly courageous fellows. At this point, there were only three countries between them that they hadn't been to - Portugal, Romania, and Paraguay - and they weren't idle tourists either. Trudeau tells how he snuck into Eastern China through Hong Kong, staying in a Nationalist camp and experiencing the Civil War up close. So far Hebert has told no such tale but I am sure he has been in similar situations.

Style in "Two Innocents in China"

I was wondering how Hebert and Trudeau were going to handle the grammatical quandary of having two authors writing a travel book (something that is usually a solo experience.) Since they would be experiencing different things and talking to different people, surely they couldn't use the collective "we" for the entire length of the book. I assumed they would be resorting to a fully third-person narrative, as Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward did for "All the President's Men." Instead, they found a perfect hybrid, using "we" for instances in which "we" is appropriate, and last names when someone is being referred to specifically. It's really rather a simple solution, but one that I would never have thought up myself, and it works seamlessly.

On another note, the book is filled with gems of historical knowledge that are alluded to in throw-away lines that make any reader able to catch them feel sufficiently smug and full of self-worth. References to Bourassa and the Social Credit party are gifts to the reader, who feels proud that he remembers Grade 10 Canadian History.

Pierre Trudeau's Preamble to "Two Innocents in China"

Trudeau's opening chapter is marvelously funny and provides with sharp wit the reasons for their trip to China. He starts by reminding the reader of the prejudices that exist towards Asian culture - the mystical Chinaman, the treacherous Chinaman, the goofy Chinaman. In his estimation, the West's racist attitudes are not just prevalent in elementary-school classrooms and schoolyards, but in higher academics and the political arena as well. As in the note regarding the English translation, he provides full recognition of the controversy surrounding the planned trip, but dismisses it with the casual confidence that would come to define his time as Prime Minister. He also goes into the Red-baiting antics of certain Western demagogues, and relates the democracies' fear of China to their underestimation of the Soviets leading up to the launch of Sputnik. I was very impressed by Trudeau's fearlessness and his compassion towards a country that was considered an enemy of his nation. It's a quality that crops up later in life for Trudeau, when he becomes close personal friends with Fidel Castro - I imagine we'll see more of that in his encounters with Mao.

Alexandre Trudeau's Introduction to "Two Innocents in China"

Alexandre's introduction to his father and Mr. Hebert's work is a touching tribute to their diplomatic ideals. His view f the book is clearly much more affected by his father than by Hebert, so there's a slight bias in the stories he tells, but Pierre's historical standing makes him the more dynamic of the duo anyway. Alexandre clearly has a profound respect for his father, telling how he would regale the family with tales his dangerous exploits as a world-traveller. Most critically, he provides important historical context by updating us in detail on what has happened in China since the pair visited. He details how the Trudeau family was forced to postpone a trip to China following the 1989 quashing of student protests in Tiananmen Square.

Perhaps the most interesting bit of the first few pages is the short section in which Pierre Elliot Trudeau, Prime Minister of Canada writes from his position of office upon the book's translation into English. With a tongue-in-cheek acknowledgment that some of the events in the book might provide ammunition for his opponents, he jokingly places all responsibility on Hebert.

Stephen King's "On Writing": Sections 1 - 7 (On Living: A Postscript)

Having grabbed your attention and hooked you with the closing line of the last section - "a man driving a blue van almost killed me" - King slows down the pace and starts to build suspense like only he can. He describes weekends at his summer house in Maine, taking long walks by the side of the road, feeling the wind in his - BAM. Almost killed by a man in a blue van.

King's description of Bryan Smith (the driver of the blue van) is hilarious. The moment where he realizes that he's almost been killed by a character out of his own novels is particularly amusing. The rest of the passage is harrowing in the way medical shows on television typically are - I felt my skin crawling and my spine hurting as I read it. Reading these couple chapters was enough to make any man of a strong constitution into a chronic hypochondriac.

King was smart to include this section at the back of the book. His portrayal of writing as having medicinal properties is touching and inspiring (without being overly Hallmarkian.) It's also a good decision because it brings the book full circle. He starts the whole thing with a biographical explanation of why he writes. He then describes how he writes. Finally, he closes the book with a tale of a near-death epiphany: that no matter what he does, and what the world does to him, he HAS to write.

Stephen King's "On Writing": Sections 14 to 16

The final chapters of King's incredibly informative book are suitably chronological. He discusses the validity of writing classes, the process of finding publication, and most importantly, the inherent joy in writing.

The chapter on writing classes was a little boring, but I found I related to his frustration with them. I once took an intensive writing course at a camp I went to, and I became increasingly irritated by the demands of the instructor that we read our pieces aloud immediately after we finished them - no revising, first drafts only. It makes one incredibly uncomfortable, as the work you're reading aloud simply isn't finished.

The passage on publication was more interesting to me, if only because it provides an insight into the secretive world of publishing. The advice all seems sound, but King's suggestions of buying Writer's Market books and scanning them meticulously seemed a little bit like overkill. I did, however, appreciate the form letter written by "Frank" to prospective agents. It was genuine and unassuming, and if I were a literary agent I don't think I could resist making an offer.

The final chapter of the book (excluding the epilogue) was probably, for me, the best one yet. King sums up in so few words why his readers should want to write. The idea of a buzz, a feeling of joy found for free in creative expression is inspiring.

Stephen King's "On Writing": Sections 9 to 12

I'm continually impressed by King's ability to walk the reader step by step through the creative process. I'm convinced this book would be interesting even to people who would never dream of becoming writers. It's such a fascinating study of the process, and I think reading it makes a better reader as well as a better writer. We take books for granted, when we read them, but King pulls back the curtain and exposes the toil and sweat behind writing a novel.

I really enjoyed the passage in which King describes the deathly crush of writer's block, and the epiphany with which he escapes it. That moment, sitting on a park bench and realizing suddenly how to finish his story, is something the reader can picture perfectly - the joy and relief is palpable.

The concept of the "Ideal Reader," too is brilliant. All King's done, really, is point out something all writers already know. In doing so, he provides license to use the impulse to write for one person, as opposed to writing for an audience.

Over all, I was impressed with King's proficiency for making writing seem fun. One tends to think of writing as work - work that you may enjoy, but work nonetheless. King encourages you to have fun with it, and in that he departs from the conventional wisdom found in other writing books. It's also what makes his book so much more interesting, and so much more educational.

Stephen King's "On Writing": Sections 4 to 7

I enjoyed this part of the book more than any other we've read so far. King's encouragement to find truth in what you like to write, as opposed to what others would like you to write is truly eye-opening. He twists the "write what you know" cliché on its head, citing John Grisham's "troubled lawyer" novels as perfect examples. Instead of telling the reader to start small, he tells them to start big, even to start with that dreaded literary device, a "concept."

I disagree with King about plot. Once again, he seems to believe that because HE'S a situation writer, and HE'S successful, it must be the only route to success. It is however evident that some of the best novels ever written are intricately woven tales of complexity that could only possibly be written with much planning ahead. Story is as valuable as situation, and I'd hope that King would have the open mind to acknowledge that.
I do appreciate his analogy of the fossil found in the ground, waiting to be excavated. The metaphor works on every level - his description of the tools, in particular, stays with me. The use of brushes and small picks to perfect a fossil is a perfect parallel to the editing process.

The most fascinating part of the passage is when he details how he came up with the idea for "Misery." It really does support his "fossil" theory to read the different stages of the story - from dream to reality, literally.

Stephen King's "On Writing": Sections 1 to 3

I was disappointed with King's narrow approach to the craft of writing in this section. I've enjoyed everything else I've read from the book, but this passage struck me as cynical and self-serving. Throughout it, he seems to assert that his own method of writing is the only road to success.

While I agree that reading is incredibly important in the development of a writer, I disagree that it's impossible for a writer to develop without reading four to six hours a day, as King encourages. There's no proof that Shakespeare - undoubtedly the greatest writer of all time - was as avid a reader as King. Until the 19th century, in fact, only the educated and elite could afford the luxury of books.

Shakespeare appears in the section as a "Great writer," along with Dickens and Faust and Chaucer. The passage in which King seperates all writers into four categories is, for lack of a better term, a load of old twaddle. To take something as subjective as literary quality and create a strictly structured categorization is shortsighted and beneath King's considerable talents.

My favourite thing about the article was when King described his experience with a story that used the word "zestful" in almost every sentence. He compares it to an antibiotic drug, pointing out that he has never used the word "zestful" since.