Category Sách & Tri thức

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When Everyone Knows That Everyone Knows by Steven Pinker review – communication breakdown

Unwritten rules, social contracts, shared logic – and what happens when they fall apart

Knots, RD Laing’s 1970 book, was a collection of short dialogues illustrating the tangle of projection and misreading that characterises human encounters. The radical psychiatrist made clear the influence of unacknowledged baggage, the conscious or unconscious laying of traps for the other speaker, and helped us see more clearly the pitfalls of even our most routine conversations. In an era like ours, where global relations can contain as much psychodrama as private ones, Laing’s Zen-like exchanges have more than just individual pertinence.

The contrast between Laing’s absurdist, tragicomic sensibility and Steven Pinker’s crisp reasonableness is obvious. But there is more common ground than we might at first think. Pinker illustrates his arguments with piquant little dialogues, some of them worthy of Laing (“You hang up first”. “No, you hang up first.” “Okay.” “She hung up on me!”); this book is as lively an exposition of cognitive science as you are likely to find.

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Why I gave the world wide web away for free

My vision was based on sharing, not exploitation – and here’s why it’s still worth fighting for

I was 34 years old when I first had the idea for the world wide web. I took every opportunity to talk about it: pitching it in meetings, sketching it out on a whiteboard for anyone who was interested, even drawing the web in the snow with a ski pole for my friend on what was meant to be a peaceful day out.

I relentlessly petitioned bosses at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (Cern), where I worked at the time, who initially found the idea “a little eccentric” but eventually gave in and let me work on it. I was seized by the idea of combining two pre-existing computer technologies: the internet and hypertext, which takes an ordinary document and brings it to life by adding “links”.

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‘She wrote the best first line – and the most chilling stories’: Stephen King on the dark brilliance of Daphne du Maurier

From Rebecca to The Birds and scores of creepy short stories, Du Maurier was queen of the uncanny, writes the US horror maestro

‘Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” It’s one of the most well-known first lines ever written in a novel. Certainly the most memorable; I used it myself as an epigram in my novel Bag of Bones. Daphne du Maurier also wrote what may be the best first line in a tale of the uncanny and outre. Her classic story The Birds opens with this: “On December the third the wind changed overnight and it was winter.” Short, chilly and to the point. It could almost be a weather report.

It works so well at the outset of the gripping tale that follows, in which every species of bird attacks humankind, because it’s flat, declarative and realistic. Du Maurier can gin up horror when she wants – see The Doll, The Blue Lenses and the shocking final two pages of Don’t Look Now – but knows that what’s wanted here to instil belief (and suspense) is a tone that’s closer to reportage than narration.

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Tony Harrison, poet and dramatist, dies aged 88

Known for his outspoken politics, the author was acclaimed for work in theatre, opera, film and TV but wanted to be thought of as a poet above all

Tony Harrison, the award-winning poet and dramatist whose writings fuelled national conversations about class, obscenity and politics, has died at the age of 88, his publisher has confirmed.

Harrison, a major voice in British poetry since he published his first collection in 1964, wrote front-page dispatches for the Guardian from the Bosnian war, and scandalised the nation with his 1985 poem V. Written after football hooligans desecrated his parents’ gravestones, the expletive-laden work was described as a “torrent of filth” by the Daily Mail when it was broadcast on Channel 4, prompting an early-day motion in the Commons. It is now studied in schools.

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‘There was comedy at all times’: Andrew O’Hagan on 15 years of funny, frank and champagne-fuelled friendship with Edna O’Brien

In the last decades of her life, the two novelists became close friends. He recalls their intense bond, their last trip to Ireland and her memories of being romanced by Richard Burton

I first met Edna O’Brien on a mild spring evening in 2009. There had been a party to celebrate the 70th birthday of Seamus Heaney and I was running late, so I put up my hand for a taxi and a rumbling black cab drew to a halt. The door swung open and Edna stepped on to the pavement like Ophelia out of the weedy brook. She was a vision in black velvet and volumised hair. She paid at the window, clearly irked after some altercation with the driver, and when she turned she immediately took my hand and offered a Joycean, or possibly a Glaswegian, effusion.

“I fucking hate the English. Do you?”

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Cat On The Road To Findout by Yusuf/Cat Stevens review – fame, faith and charity

The enigmatic singer-songwriter on pop stardom, becoming a Muslim and returning to the stage decades later

When Cat Stevens changed his name to Yusuf Islam and announced his conversion to the Muslim faith and retirement from music in the late 70s, Bob Dylan apparently remarked that he had “finally stopped trying to be the prophet and begun to follow The Prophet”. It’s a quote that Islam reproduces in his autobiography, viewing it as a benediction, but it also tells you something about the music that made him globally famous.

In the early 70s, the charts were awash with sensitive folky singer-songwriters. Their constituency, as Islam perceptively notes, was “the college generation, away from home, lonely and trying to find their place in the university of high academic expectations”. But none were as obsessed with spirituality as Cat Stevens, with his album titles that namechecked Buddha or referenced Zen poems, his conceptual song cycles based on numerology, his lyrical exhortations to “kick out the devil” and “get to heaven, get a guide”, and Morning Has Broken, the hymn he made a 1972 US No 1. If you’d had to place bets on which 70s superstar would pack it all in for religion, you’d have got far lower odds on Cat Stevens than, say, Noddy Holder.

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My Name Is Emilia del Valle by Isabel Allende audiobook review – portrait of a fiercely independent young woman

Sent from San Francisco to report on the war in late-19th century Chile, a young writer embarks on a journey of self-discovery in this tale of love, loss and liberation

Set in the late 19th century and inspired by the Chilean civil war which ravaged the country in 1891, Isabel Allende’s historical drama tells of a young woman born illegitimately in San Francisco’s Mission District. Emilia del Valle’s surname comes from her Chilean father, an aristocrat who seduced her mother when she was a novice nun and left before their child was born. Emilia owes her fiercely independent spirit to her liberal-minded stepfather Francisco Claro, whom she calls Papo, who encourages his stepdaughter to think for herself.

In her late teens, Emilia writes a series of successful pulp fiction novels under the male pen name Brandon J Price. By the age of 23, she is a columnist at San Francisco’s Daily Examiner; still writing as a man, she longs to do more serious work. Eventually, she is commissioned to travel to Chile, where the father she has never met lives, to cover the war. She is accompanied by a seasoned war reporter, Eric Whelan, with whom she begins a relationship, though the pair part company as they each go in search of their own stories.

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Venetian Vespers by John Banville review – a haunting honeymoon

This brooding tale of an Englishman’s downfall in fin-de-siècle Venice is memorably eerie – but it’s hard to care about such a pompous protagonist

Many years ago, a sober-minded friend warned me off going to Venice for the first time with my then partner. He muttered ominous things about the Venice wobble and the Venice curse. I went anyway and I have to say he had a point. It was autumn and there was something deeply uncanny about the city: fog-bound canals, labyrinthine alleyways, a general sense of decay. If my minibreak had belonged to a literary genre, it wouldn’t have been romance so much as cosmic horror.

Fiction, of course, should have prepared me. Couples have been coming unstuck in Venice since Othello and Desdemona. There are the Baxters in Daphne du Maurier’s short story Don’t Look Now, the basis for Nicolas Roeg’s unforgettably creepy film; Mary and Colin in The Comfort of Strangers by Ian McEwan – the city’s not named in the novel, but it’s clearly the setting. And while the love affair in Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice exists only in Von Aschenbach’s mind, the city is still his undoing. To Von Aschenbach and the others, we can now add the name of the unfortunate Evelyn Dolman, the protagonist of John Banville’s new novel, Venetian Vespers. Evelyn is a hack writer from England who has recently married an American heiress called Laura Rensselaer. Their plans to honeymoon in Venice have been delayed by the unexpected death of Laura’s father, the industrialist T Willard Rensselaer. In the wintry early months of 1900, they finally arrive and take up residence in the sinister Palazzo Dioscuri, a stone’s throw from St Mark’s. Dioscuri means the Twins – Castor and Pollux – and it will be a pair of twins who set in motion Evelyn’s inexorable but unforeseeable downfall.

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Slow Horses author Mick Herron says he knows how Jackson Lamb dies

The writer knows ‘how, why, when and where’ Gary Oldman’s cantankerous intelligence officer meets his end – a fate he figured out ‘relatively recently’

Slow Horses author Mick Herron has revealed that he knows how Jackson Lamb dies.

The irascible, unkempt cold war-era spy heads up Slough House, the crumbling office for failed MI5 agents at the centre of Herron’s bestselling series.

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On Antisemitism: A Word in History by Mark Mazower review – the politics of prejudice

This nuanced analysis of what ‘antisemitism’ means explores the evolution of anti-Jewish discrimination, and how it became a driver for political activism

Adolf Hitler’s defeat didn’t end prejudice against Jews in Germany or any other country. But the Third Reich did, in Mark Mazower’s judgment, “discredit antisemitism as a positive programme for decades to come”.

It is an arresting turn of phrase that makes reckoning with the Holocaust after the second world war sound more like a trend in public policy than a moral imperative. But that is the point. Mazower, a professor of history at Columbia University, is talking about a particular manifestation of anti-Jewish sentiment that rose and fell in a relatively short time frame.

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