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Category: Books

On My Nightstand: Distrust That Particular Flavor

I have been a fan of William Gibson’s novels ever since my early teens. I was first exposed to his work in 1988 through the Neuromancer game that had been made for the Commodore 64, and which I had bought with my Christmas money when we visited my grandparents at their winter home in Florida.

The game made me want more of the world Gibson had created, so I began looking for a copy of the novel. When I finally found and read Neuromancer, I was hooked, and soon enough I had read the remainder of the Sprawl trilogy.

Since then, I have read almost every piece of fiction Gibson has written, but my interest in his work has somewhat waned over the last few years due to my focusing on nonfiction rather than fiction, and I have not yet read his latest two novels. When I saw his latest book Distrust That Particular Flavor — a collection of essays and speeches written over the past 25 years — at my local bookshop, I figured I could both make up for the last few years while still reading nonfiction.

I was not disappointed. In Distrust, Gibson discusses everything from his answer to why so much of his fiction takes place in Japan to his early obsession with buying vintage watches on eBay, and from the process of making “Johnny Mnemonic” into a movie to his visit to Singapore (which he likens to Disneyland, but with the death penalty).

Gibson’s essays are reminiscent of his novels. The writing is idiosyncratic and angular, and the man responsible for the quip according to which “the future is already here, it’s just not evenly distributed” offers plenty of other aphorisms throughout Distrust.

Ultimately, Gibson’s most interesting insights relate to his fiction. In Distrust, Gibson tells us that just as Orwell’s 1984 had more to do with Britain in 1948 than with any foreseeable future, Gibson’s own science-fiction novels are more about the present than they are about the future. This has already had me going back to my copy of Neuromancer, just to see what Gibson thought about the US in 1984.

Banerjee and Duflo’s “Poor Economics”: Business Book of the Year

Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo’s Poor Economics: A Radical Rethinking of the Way to Fight Global Poverty has won the Best Business Book of the Year prize awarded by the Financial Times (FT) and Goldman Sachs.

From the Financial Times article announcing the prize:

Of the six shortlisted finalists, Poor Economics had “the potential for the greatest impact,” said one of the judges, Vindi Banga, a former Unilever executive, now a partner with private equity firm Clayton, Dubilier & Rice. Mario Monti, economics professor and former European commissioner, said it was “highly relevant” for a world “where the problems of inequality are becoming overriding.”

(Note: Yes, this is the same Mario Monti who is going to be Silvio Berlusconi’s successor as prime minister of Italy.)

Ever since I joined Duke in 2006, I have taught my development seminar without a textbook. Bardhan and Udry’s (1999) textbook is too mathematical and not empirical enough for public policy students, and easier textbooks such as Todaro and Smith‘s are too macro and not applied enough for the seminar I teach.

As such, Poor Economics is the answer to my prayers. I have been using in my development seminar this semester as “lighter” reading material to supplement the more technical readings (i.e., journal articles), and the book really makes some of the concepts discussed in lecture come alive. I am planning on using it again next year.

If you have not yet read Poor Economics, do yourself a favor and read it as soon as possible. Even aid workers and academics doing research in development can learn new, important things from reading it.

Kidnapped by Al-Qaeda: “A Season in Hell”

We crested a hill, and a long, empty valley stretched into the far distance. The view was lovely and peaceful. I was looking forward to a pleasant dinner in Niamey with Guy Villeneuve, head of the Canadian office, a dependency of the embassy located in faraway Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire. Louis was on his BlackBerry, arranging the details with Guy.

At this point, a pickup truck appeared out of nowhere and was quickly overtaking us. Its speed seemed out of place, as we were doing 120 kilometres per hour. As soon as it passed us, it slewed across our front, forcing Soumana to brake. “What the hell!” I exclaimed, woken out of my reverie with some surprise and annoyance, but by then Soumana was swinging out to pass the truck that had just cut us off. As soon as we moved left, so too did the truck, right off our front bumper, again blocking our progress and still slowing hard, forcing Soumana to brake to avoid plowing into it. As we pulled back into the right lane, so did the truck, which now occupied the centre of the road, clearly positioning itself to block the possibility that we might still try to pass to the right or left.