The Art Of Blurbs (Ads In Hiding) - Sydney Review of Books

From a lecture entitled  “The Catholic Church Inside the Third Reich” 

“In Germany 1% of the population were pro-Nazi; 1% resisted. The other 98% just watched it happen.”

The Catholic Church Inside the Third Reich

Thursday May 25 @ 10:00 - #159

Instructor: Christopher Zugger

What It Is: H-tl-r saw the Church as a major enemy. Within days of signing the concordat with the Vatican in 1933, persecution began. Learn about Catholic laity and clergy who fought Nazism, wavered, fully collaborated, or were martyred. Hear stories of people who helped rescue Jews; parents who fought for their children; brave journalists; and those who suffered in the camps, including 1,000 priests in Dachau. It’s a little-known but fascinating and inspiring story.

Why do people listen to sad songs? (NYT)  And Girardian orcas.

The Art Of Blurbs (Ads In Hiding)

Blurb, then, is a twentieth-century euphemism for a particular kind of advertisement, one that uses evaluation as a figleaf for a sales pitch.  In the twenty-first century book world, the blurbs are inescapable. - Sydney Review of Books

The Differences Between Non-Fiction In The UK And Non-Fiction In The US

At least on the face of it, the mainstream of US nonfiction is stately, thorough, chronological and substantial; whereas British nonfiction is slant, whimsical, allusive and personal. Is that a temperamental or cultural difference? Up to a point, perhaps, yes. But there’s something else at work too. - LitHub

Crazy article from the Smithsonian about a Russian family that disappeared into the Siberian wilderness in 1936 and had no contact with other people for more than 40 years. In the process, they missed World War II, the Moon landing, and the start of the Cold War.

...beside a stream there was a dwelling. Blackened by time and rain, the hut was piled up on all sides with taiga rubbish-bark, poles, planks. If it hadn't been for a window the size of my backpack pocket, it would have been hard to believe that people lived there. But they did, no doubt about it.... Our arrival had been noticed, as we could see.

The low door creaked, and the figure of a very old man emerged into the light of day, straight out of a fairy tale. Barefoot. Wearing a patched and repatched shirt made of sacking. He wore trousers of the same material, also in patches, and had an uncombed beard. His hair was disheveled. He looked frightened and was very attentive.... We had to say something, so I began: 'Greetings, grandfather! We've come to visit!'

The old man did not reply immediately.... Finally, we heard a soft, uncertain voice: 'Well, since you have traveled this far, you might as well come in.'

Super fascinating. This one short documentary(in Russian) shows something of how the Lykov's lived