Dmitrii Calzago

Part one of reads like a Steinbeck novel: remarkable characters with humble backgrounds, set in the American West, beautifully painted. I had to keep reminding myself that this is a memoir. The second half is less beautiful, but interesting as a depiction of the narrator's huge transformation (her “education”). The big theme, perhaps the biggest, is the strength of the ties we have to our younger selves, to the memories, beliefs, and identities we've built up in our formative years. Sadly, I failed to fully understand the author's monumental struggle to make sense of the past tragedies, to act on them, to let go of them.

Not a strong work. Many reviews here nail its flaws. I will only share some quotes that stood out

All manner of men came to work for the News: everything from wild young Turks who wanted to rip the world in half and start all over again—to tired, beer-bellied old hacks who wanted nothing more than to live out their days in peace before a bunch of lunatics ripped the world in half.

...

Most people who deal in words don't have much faith in them and I am no exception—especially the big ones like Happy and Love and Honest and Strong. They are too elusive and far too relative when you compare them to sharp, mean little words like Punk and Cheap and Phony. I feel at home with these, because they're scrawny and easy to pin, but the big ones are tough and it takes either a priest or a fool to use them with any confidence.

...

Like most of the others, I was a seeker, a mover, a malcontent, and at times a stupid hell-raiser. I was never idle long enough to do much thinking, but I felt somehow that my instincts were right. I shared a vagrant optimism that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably make it over the top. At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that wee were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles—a restless idealism on the one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other—that kept me going.

I associate Lem with high quality science fiction. There is solid science there, in each of the stories, which is appreciated by the engineer in me. These space-travel tales focus on many subtle details of what it would be like to zoom around the solar system routinely. And there is good fiction, too, especially in the first three of the five stories. I will happily procure and read the follow-up volume of Pirx tales.

Any advice that one finds useful not only has to be good or actionable, but it has to come at the right time and the right angle. All I can say is that the author succeeded at that for me, changing how I view and approach creative acts. Showing the parallels between engineering and art is one of this book's strengths.

Love Bukowski's honesty. And he can spin a lovely phrase at times. But I just don't get anything but pity out of the aimless wanderings of Chinaski. Memorable quotes:

I had decided against religion a couple years back. If it were true, it made fools out of people, or it drew fools. And if it weren't true, the fools were all the more foolish.

And then along came Hemingway. What a thrill! He knew how to lay down the line. It was a joy. Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.

...That's four punches a day. Then you go home, or to your room or wherever, sleep, come back and hit it four more times each working day until you get fired, quit, die, or retire.