Some elementary thoughts on Communism:

Ok, so. I'm approaching this as a total novice, so try to understand that any criticisms I have are likely underdeveloped. Before reading the Manifesto, I did read "Estranged Labor," from the Manuscripts, and I've a basic understanding of Hegelian dialectics and a reasonable knowledge of the historical context in which they were working.

Ultimately, it seems to me like a product of the 'revolutionary' nature of the latter half of the 18th and beginning of the 19th century, which, with the beginnings of modernity, experienced paradigm shifts in the organization of state, finances, and military. As such, it's easy to understand the revolutionary fervor with which Marx and Engels present this Manifesto, their vision of the Communism. I understand (and don't disagree with) their criticisms of capitalist philosophy of labor and property, but I don't understand why he believes that a state created by a proletariat revolution would be anything but a continuation of the previous state. There is simply no way to maintain a state without exploitation of it's constituent members, as oppression is necessarily a function of the state. As Rousseau said, the state is merely a scheme by which the rich have convinced the poor to defend the property of the rich. Marx essentially believes that with the collapse of the feudal economic model, we have a new class which holds all the economic power - the bourgeois, the capitalists. Through their control of private property they alienate man from the product of his labor, making him essentially a wage-slave. He believes that it is INEVITABLE, in the rational progress of history, that this penultimate model, the purest of class struggles, will be replaced by Communism.

Marx's call to revolution is NOT just an economic, or even a political, one. It is a total paradigm shift in all modes of thought - cultural, economic, political, philsophical, educational. It is about blowing up all the structures of society and a complete and total reorganization of the way in which we manage people and resources. From what I understand, it is that when the proletariat rise up and gain a democratic and centralized control over the means of production, the "state", in the traditional sense, becomes superfluous, and dissolves as a result, leaving us with a fair and equal mode of distributing resources among people. In order to achieve this, the working classes must institute a total overthrow of EVERY societal institution that supports the bourgeoisie (i.e., every social institution).

The whole time I kept thinking that he was too caught up with believing that the Communist Revolution was in his particular stage of history, and that maybe it was still far into the future. I keep imagining this sort of gradual disconnect of the population from the state as it becomes increasingly irrelevant in a highly technologized society, ultimately resulting in a decentralized power structure spread among a gradually equalizing population. Perhaps we're still a few class struggles away from practical communism? With the creeping development of the mass surveillance state, which I believe is fundamentally unsustainable in the long run, perhaps we are seeing the beginnings of the true final stage of economic history? I mean, Marx may be right. Maybe we're all ready there, and it is all of us versus the bourgeoisie. After all, the top 1 percent currently control 35.6% of the world's private wealth, more than the bottom 95% combined. Maybe, in the midst of the revolutionary spirit of his time, Marx simply failed to see that the final game would be a long one.

There's a lot going on in this slim volume (68 pages, as I read it), and I haven't even touched on some of the less interesting, to me at least, sections. Ultimately, I was approaching this as a piece of philosophy, and it certainly is fascinating, though I can't say that I've been swayed to Marxism by any means. It is quite stirring at times, if perhaps a bit underdeveloped (by design, I imagine, as it was essentially a piece of propoganda). I do intend to read further, so in that respect, at least, the Manifesto was successful. It's sort of tragically humorous how totally skewed the layman's perception of Communism is; and much more tragic, and much less funny, how massively every communist state has failed in truly shaking off the functional structures of oppression, how deeply and  utterly they failed the oppressed.

"The sane man is simply a better liar than an insane man." -Gregory David Roberts

Man. That was heavy.

I've gotta' say that my reading of this novel was undoubtedly colored by the fact that I had just finished Rousseau's Discourse on the Origin and Basis of Inequality Among Men just before starting it. I had never seen the movie, so going into it, I was a clean slate. I had no real preconceptions, and thank God for that, because this was one of the most incredibly fresh and interesting novels that I've ever read.

It opens with our narrator, Bromden, "Chief", giving us a schizophrenic, nightmare rundown of the Asylum, a stronghold of The Combine ruled by the icy Nurse Ratched, "Big Nurse." Her almost hypnotic hold over the patients of the ward is challenged by the arrival of Randle Patrick McMurphy - a wild, gambling, Southern, red-headed con-man trying to escape four months on a workfarm by having himself committed. The stage is then set for the clash of two titanic personalities and the forces they come to represent. Faceless, unaccountable, institutional power, The Combine, represented in the figure of Big Nurse. Fundamental humanity, agency, and the dignity of natural man championed by McMurphy. I don't mean to sound melodramatic, but truly by the end of the book, it has become both a deeply involving personal tale of hope and redemption, and that of a much larger and more fundamental struggle.

Because that is what McMurphy becomes to the men on the ward, who are disenfranchised and alienated even within the hospital, which Nurse Ratched strives to make a microcosm of society at large. And man, did I feel the joy of their brief and glorious triumph. Kesey writes with such honesty that, as Bromden says, "...it's the truth even if it didn't happen." Bromden's narration is a key part of what makes this novel so stirring. His paranoid schizophrenic fantasies turn the ward into a hellish dystopia, all the more terrifying because he is arguably more attuned to the reality of what is happening than anyone else. His hallucinations are in touch with the unseen, coercive power of the institution, the insidious nature of which is much more dangerous, subversive, and divisive than outright acts of force.

I've seen a lot of criticism of the book online for perceived sexism, which I'm not sure I agree with, as I believe that's not really giving Kesey enough credit. Demasculinization, castration - these are symbols used, but I believe that if you look deeper, Kesey is really talking about the enforced alienation of humanity from our sexuality by society as a means of control and dehumanization. As surely as the sterilized figure of the Big Nurse uses desexualization as a weapon, Candy uses sexuality as a means to heal Billy Bibbit. Indeed, even McMurphy says at the outset that the ball-cutters can be male just as easily as female. The Ward doesn't simply desmaculize the men, Ratched defeminizes herself. The institution isn't being painted here as a tool oppressive only to men, it is robbing everyone of their humanity. I think it is very telling that Harding, the only man who complains of the "modern matriarchy," is a gay man.

I was really legitimately surprised by how much I enjoyed this novel. I was expecting something more sterile, more academic, I think. Really, this novel is a wonderfully emotional book, while diagnosing the modern schizophrenic disconnect of the individual from the mechanical institutions of society by a demonization of the natural impulse (even laughter is foreign to the men of the ward). It mirrors in some ways a lot of the reading I've been doing lately (Catch-22, Rousseau, Marx) in highlighting the dangers of modernity: in this case, that, in the face of an insane institution, the sane man is necessarily a lunatic.

The last page justifies the book.

That was the first thought I had upon completing R.A. Salvatore's latest entry into The Legend of Drizzt, and the first book in the Realms-wide event, The Sundering. Throughout my initial reading, I was constantly going back and forth as to whether or not I could accept the revival of The Companions of the Hall, and indeed, there was a period of time where I didn't think I was going to be able to. But the reason I love Salvatore so much is because he is such a master storyteller. As much as it is a shame that he was forced into a position where he had to revive these characters, he earns it in this book, one of the best he's written. Salvatore takes the hand that he was dealt with the arrival of 4th Edition, and weaves for all of us readers a truly touching novel that reminds me of why I fell in love with his books in the first place. This is a love-letter to us fans, and as divided as I was, Bob, with this book, has assured me that it's going to be okay.

We are almost immediately introduced to the conceit that the titular companions are indeed those of The Hall. The prologue, after briefly touching base with Drizzt as we left him at the end of The Last Threshold, cuts back a number of years to a small girl in Netheril being hunted by Shadovar. Within just a few pages, she reveals herself to be none other than a reborn Catti-Brie, as she magically fends off her would-be kidnappers. From there we are taken back to Iruladoon where we finally learn it's purpose, and just how the Companions will be reunited on the Prime Material Plane. In a wise storytelling move, Salvatore does not simply eject them all back into the world, all in their prime and ready to take to the road again. Instead, they find out that they must be literally reborn, where they will grow again into adults while waiting to meet together at an appointed date.

And, of course, Salvatore has found a way to make this all worthwhile. We spend the book tracing the brand-new origins of our favorite characters as they must grow and prepare for their appointed meeting, which is hinted to be only a prelude to a much larger conflict in which they must aid their beloved friend. Each chapter, for the greater majority of the book, is devoted to a single one of the companions, who are spread all across Faerun as they are reborn. It is a wonderful joy to watch each of them as they struggle to balance the demands of their new life with the knowledge of their old one and each of the stories has it's own unique and distinct feel.

Regis, here, is the blowout star of the book, with his new found determination to be able to stand beside the more martially skilled Companions in battle when the time comes. Catti-Brie's story is easily the most plot-driven of the three, full of set-up for The Sundering and future Drizzt books, whereas Bruenor's is a more existential look at the psychological ramifications of revivification. Catti-Brie's thread suffers, especially once she separates from her new parents (which provide rich emotional grounding for the former orphan), as she is privy to more of the mystery surrounding their rebirth and is in turn more focused on the ultimate goal. It makes sense, but it doesn't really allow for as much nuance as the others. Bruenor's angst may also grate at times, but it's a good stroke of characterization. For Wulfgar, well, let me just say that while I may have been initially unconvinced, Salvatore brought me round in the end. Trust him, he knows what he's doing. Clues to what The Sundering will entail are few, but undeniably tantalizing. It's shaping up to be a truly epic event.

It is Salvatore's obvious and infectious love and respect for these characters that make this book such a joy to read. Any concerns I developed early in the book about the integrity of this move, were all deftly and expertly handled by the end of it. He takes what could have been a simple retcon, and instead turns it into a fantastic character study of characters that we had long thought we knew completely, revitalizing all of them, and allowing us a chance to see them truly grow. There may be some readers who are unable to swallow this revival, and that is understandable. But it is important to remember, before you dismiss this book, that he wasn't given a chance to finish the stories that he wanted to tell with these characters before the arrival of 4th edition. I strongly recommend giving The Companions a chance, because Salvatore isn't cheapening what has come until now, he's merely giving us a chance at the full, untruncated story that we deserve, and not one that has been artificially limited by editorial mandate.