The Books You Think Every Intelligent Person Should Read: Crime and Punishment, Moby-Dick & Beyond (Many Free Online)

crime and punishment cover

While I nor­mal­ly try not to get involved with com­ments on web sites (you know what I mean), I’d rather get involved with the com­ments of some web sites than oth­ers. I doubt that under­neath any Youtube video, for exam­ple,  you’d find dozens and dozens of well-con­sid­ered sug­ges­tions for the canon of books every intel­li­gent per­son should read, as we did here at Open Cul­ture when we put the ques­tion to you on Wednes­day. In the com­ments to that post as well as on our Face­book Page, we received a host of respons­es scat­tered sat­is­fy­ing­ly across the tex­tu­al map: every­thing from Michel Fou­cault to Fou­cault’s Pen­du­lum, Gib­bon’s His­to­ry of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire to Bryson’s Short His­to­ry of Near­ly Every­thing, 18th-cen­tu­ry Ger­man philoso­pher Immanuel Kant to rep­til­ian con­spir­a­cy-envi­sion­ing ex-foot­baller David Icke. The top-rank­ing vol­ume? Fyo­dor Dos­toyevsky’s Crime and Pun­ish­ment (avail­able, inci­den­tal­ly, in our free eBook col­lec­tionKin­dle from Ama­zon – Read Online), fol­lowed by Her­man Melville’s Moby-Dick (avail­able there too: iPad/iPhone — Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats). Let none say that Open Cul­ture read­ers shy away from weighty lit­er­a­ture.

Oth­er, short­er nov­els pop­u­lar­ly sug­gest­ed include Voltaire’s Can­dide (iPad/iPhone — Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats), Joseph Con­rad’s Heart of Dark­ness (iPad/iPhone – Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats), and George Orwell’s 1984 (Read Online). We also received a num­ber of votes for books famous­ly pored over for thou­sands upon thou­sands of hours by their enthu­si­asts, such as the Bible, Dan­te’s Divine Com­e­dy (iPad/iPhone – Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats), and Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. (Giv­en the for­mi­da­ble inter­net pres­ence of Rand’s read­ers, I expect­ed more of an inun­da­tion of her titles, but they must not have turned out in force this time.) Such clas­sic and decep­tive­ly uni­ver­sal guides to strat­e­gy as Sun Tzu’s The Art of War (iPad/iPhone — Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats – Read Online) and Nic­colò Machi­avel­li’s The Prince (iPad/iPhone — Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats) also placed well, as did books like Pla­to’s Repub­lic (iPad/iPhone – Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats — Read Online), Hen­ry David Thore­au’s Walden (iPad/iPhone – Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats), and Her­mann Hes­se’s Sid­dartha (Kin­dle + Oth­er For­mats) — the ones you prob­a­bly got assigned once, but that you may not then have under­stood why you should actu­al­ly read. 

The rec­om­men­da­tions fas­ci­nate, but so do their jus­ti­fi­ca­tions. (My per­son­al favorite: “It’s a book about shaman­ism, although it’s not what you would expect from a social­ly accept­ed descrip­tion of shaman­ism.”) Jo Stafford calls Crime and Pun­ish­ment and Moby-Dick, the two big win­ners, “per­fect exam­ples of how great fic­tion can pose the ‘big ques­tions’, par­tic­u­lar­ly around what it means to act moral­ly.” Moira pitch­es Robert M. Pir­sig’s Zen and the Art of Motor­cy­cle Main­te­nance as a “mod­ern study of the schism between clas­si­cist and roman­ti­cist think­ing.” Nick Williams says Can­dide “still feeds the inner cyn­ic,” and Jason con­sid­ers Walden “a bet­ter les­son on cap­i­tal­ism than The Wealth of Nations.” Arthur McMil­lan rec­om­mends Julian Barnes’ A His­to­ry of the World in 10½ Chap­ters by hold­ing out the promise that it “encap­su­lates the sheer futil­i­ty of everything[ness].” Anoth­er read­er sug­gests William Godwin’s Polit­i­cal Enquiry “to be remind­ed what books inspired us to be: free.” Wise words indeed, Mr. Beer N. Hock­ey.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

575 Free eBooks: Down­load Great Books for Free

What Books Should Every Intel­li­gent Per­son Read?: Tell Us Your Picks; We’ll Tell You Ours

See Nobel Lau­re­ate Joseph Brodsky’s Read­ing List For Hav­ing an Intel­li­gent Con­ver­sa­tion

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Is the Lecture Hall Obsolete?: Thought Leaders Debate the Question

Update: The debate streamed live ear­li­er this week on our site can now be replayed in its entire­ty. So if you missed it the first time around, here’s your sec­ond chance…

Tonight, at 6:45 East Coast time, you can watch a free, live streamed debate host­ed by Intel­li­gence Squared US. The ques­tion to be debat­ed: “Is the Lec­ture Hall Obso­lete?” Argu­ing for the motion will be Anant Agar­w­al, Pres­i­dent of edX and Pro­fes­sor at MIT, and Ben Nel­son, Founder and CEO of the Min­er­va Project; argu­ing against are Jonathan Cole, Provost and Dean Emer­i­tus of Colum­bia Uni­ver­si­ty, and Rebec­ca Schu­man, colum­nist for Slate and the Chron­i­cle of High­er Edu­ca­tion.

You can watch the debate above, or over at FORA.TV. More infor­ma­tion can be found here.

You can also find MOOCs being offered by edX start­ing in April over at our mas­sive col­lec­tion of MOOCs from Great Uni­ver­si­ties.

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

Watch The Last 48 Hours of Kurt Cobain on the 20th Anniversary of the Musician’s Suicide

There are few things more fraught for a writer or artist than approach­ing a sub­ject that has already passed into pop­u­lar leg­end and myth. This is sure­ly the case with Kurt Cobain, who—deservedly or not—attained a sta­tus as cul­tur­al icon unsur­passed by any mem­ber of his gen­er­a­tion. Cobain com­mit­ted sui­cide an almost unbe­liev­able twen­ty years ago today, and some recent approach­es to his mem­o­ry have been, well, awk­ward to say the least. First, there is the ama­teur­ish com­mem­o­ra­tive stat­ue in Cobain’s home­town of Aberdeen, Wash­ing­ton. Var­i­ous­ly described as “bizarre,” “hideous,” and resem­bling a “cry­ing wino,” the mawk­ish statue’s exis­tence is made even more pathet­ic by the fact that Cobain’s home­town didn’t care much for him in life, and the feel­ing was mutu­al. Now Aberdeen wants to cash in, declar­ing a “Kurt Cobain Day.” Aberdeen May­or Bill Simp­son hopes the stat­ue will become “just as big as Grace­land, even­tu­al­ly.” Cobain had a mor­bid sense of humor, but I doubt know­ing he’d be turned into a kitschy tourist des­ti­na­tion would have light­ened the despair of his last days.

As exhib­it B, I offer the media’s cultish fas­ci­na­tion with new­ly-released police pho­tos of Cobain’s death scene. The cov­er­age prompt­ed a CNN arti­cle with what Dead­spin spin-off The Con­course called “The Worst Kurt Cobain Lede Ever” (they go on to mock said lede mer­ci­less­ly, and deserved­ly). Atro­cious though such cov­er­age may be, there’s good rea­son beyond nos­tal­gia, hero-wor­ship, or sick fas­ci­na­tion to revis­it Cobain’s lega­cy. On April 10, Michael Stipe will induct Nir­vana into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, for­mal­ly enshrin­ing the once scruffy out­siders in the hal­lowed com­pa­ny of ulti­mate rock insid­er-dom. This ges­ture might make some peo­ple (maybe it’s just me) feel a lit­tle con­flict­ed. After all, wasn’t it pre­cise­ly the grandiose, pop­u­lar-kid cul­ture of halls of fame that drove Cobain to the mar­gins, where he did his best work, and ulti­mate­ly drove him to hate what he’d become—a star? In his strange sui­cide note, we see Cobain beat­ing him­self up for being unable to live up to the hype—unable, as he put it, to be a “Fred­dy Mer­cury” and “rel­ish in the love and ado­ra­tion from the crowd.” There’s some­thing, per­haps, almost trag­i­cal­ly insen­si­tive, how­ev­er well-inten­tioned, in posthu­mous­ly turn­ing Kurt Cobain into Elvis.

One might con­sid­er such things while watch­ing the 2006 BBC doc­u­men­tary above, The Last 48 Hours of Kurt Cobain. In con­trast to the sen­sa­tion­al­ism of most Cobain-relat­ed media, its tone is dry and unaf­fect­ed as it can­vass­es the reluc­tant rock star’s life and death, inter­view­ing fel­low rock stars, band mem­bers, and jour­nal­ists, as well as reg­u­lar Joes and Janes who knew and inter­act­ed with him dur­ing his trou­bled youth in Aberdeen. Much more than its title sug­gests, the hour and twen­ty minute doc works well as a biog­ra­phy of Cobain and a brief his­to­ry of Nir­vana and the Seat­tle scene that birthed them. An Aus­tralian mag­a­zine accu­rate­ly describes the film thus:

The doc­u­men­tary includes inter­views with Nir­vana band mem­bers, friends, and wit­ness­es of his where­abouts dur­ing that dread­ful week. The DVD also focus­es on his incred­i­ble tal­ents, show­ing the mak­ing of the track Drain You, excerpts from Smells Like Teen Spir­it, In Bloom, Come As You Are and more. Also fea­tured is the sto­ry behind the con­tro­ver­sial Nev­er­mind cov­er and an inter­view with the star. 

Opin­ion on the film’s qual­i­ty is, unsur­pris­ing­ly, strong­ly divid­ed among Nir­vana fans on Youtube. But as you sure­ly know, with all such wide­ly sen­sa­tion­al­ized sub­jects on the inter­net, it’s gen­er­al­ly best if you don’t read the com­ments.

You can find The Last 48 Hours of Kurt Cobain list­ed in our col­lec­tion of Free Doc­u­men­taries, part of our larg­er col­lec­tion of 675 Free Movies Online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Nirvana’s Home Videos: An Inti­mate Look at the Band’s Life Away From the Spot­light (1988)

Kurt Cobain’s Iso­lat­ed Vocal Track From ‘Smells Like Teen Spir­it,’ 1991

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

35 Years of Prince’s Hairstyles in 15 Glorious Seconds!

Any­one who’s suf­fered through the hell of grow­ing out a short style or spent a pre-awards show after­noon get­ting sewn into exten­sions will appre­ci­ate the brisk pace of Lon­don-based illus­tra­tor Gary Card’s “Prince Hair Chart” slideshow.

It’s only 15 sec­onds long, but seri­ous­ly, can you name anoth­er Prince with coif­fures amor­phous enough to mer­it such pro­longed gaze?  Cer­tain­ly, not Charles, or even the com­pelling­ly flame-haired Har­ry.

As this chrono­log­i­cal speed-through of 35 years of hair­dos attests, musi­cal chameleon Prince (aka  Love Sym­bol #2, Prince Rogers Nel­son) has nev­er shied from stand­ing out in a crowd. Thir­ty-six looks shim­mer and writhe atop his laven­der pate, as he stares cooly ahead, more man­tis than Medusa.

Not all of them worked. If we were play­ing Who Wore It Bet­ter, I’d have to go with Liza Minel­li (1985) and  Jen­nifer Anis­ton (1990), but the slideshow is rich­er (and a cou­ple of frac­tions of a sec­ond longer) due to such silli­ness.

Doubt­less Prince will have rearranged his locks before the doves can cry again. His lat­est look, as evi­denced by a recent guest cameo oppo­site Zooey Deschanel on the TV com­e­dy, ‘New Girl’, is a return to roots, a la 1978.

via Kot­tke

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the author of sev­en books, and cre­ator of the award win­ning East Vil­lage Inky zine. Prince tweet­ed about Gary Card’s hair­do overview… so per­haps it’s in the realm of pos­si­bil­i­ty that he’ll be the next to squawk in her direc­tion  @AyunHalliday

Watch High Maintenance: A Critically-Acclaimed Web Series About Life & Cannabis

Web series might have a rep­u­ta­tion for being ama­teur­ish, but that’s not entire­ly fair. High Main­te­nance, cre­at­ed by hus­band and wife team Ben Sin­clair and Kat­ja Blich­feld, for instance, is a high­ly pol­ished web series, fea­tur­ing sub­tle char­ac­ter­i­za­tions, wry humor and some of the tight­est writ­ing this side of Louis C.K.’s series Louie.

Each episode, which gen­er­al­ly runs between five and fif­teen min­utes, is about a new char­ac­ter — gen­er­al­ly a young pro­fes­sion­al Brook­lynite — who is wrestling with life’s small prob­lems. The one com­mon denom­i­na­tor is their name­less put-upon pot deal­er, played by Sin­clair. The show oper­ates on the same world of neu­ro­sis, self-absorp­tion and lone­li­ness as does Louie and Lena Dunham’s Girls. Mar­i­jua­na is the thing that makes their urban woes a lit­tle more palat­able.

Sin­clair recent­ly described his series to the New York­er:

The thing about weed is, we didn’t want to use it as a punch line. Instead, it’s this sub­stance that, like choco­late, caus­es peo­ple to expose their own foibles. Peo­ple become so human in pur­suit of this thing. And the inter­ac­tion they have with the per­son bring­ing it is often trag­ic, because there are a lot of lone­ly peo­ple out there who order it and then that is their human inter­ac­tion for the day.

The sto­ry of each episode hinges on the character’s inter­ac­tion with the deal­er. In the episode titled “Hei­di” (above) – one of my favorites – the deal­er tells a guy that the viva­cious lass he has fall­en for after meet­ing her on OK Cupid has a dark secret.

The episode “Brad Pitts” oper­ates in an entire­ly dif­fer­ent tone. A woman suf­fer­ing from can­cer is feel­ing too nau­se­at­ed to eat until her mid­dle-aged friend calls up Sin­clair. The results are not quite what any­one expect­ed.

In “Rachel,” an author, played by Down­ton Abbey’s Dan Stevens, strug­gles with both cre­ative and iden­ti­ty issues.

And final­ly, “Olivia” is about two of the most awful, tox­ic twits you would ever care to (not) meet:

You can watch all of the episodes here. And at some point this month (prob­a­bly 4/20) three new episodes are slat­ed to pre­miere.

H/T @sheerly

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Carl Sagan Extols the Virtues of Cannabis (1969)

Alice B. Tok­las Talks About Her Famous Recipe for Hashish Fudge

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow.

10 Wonderful Illustrations from the Original Manuscript of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince

little prince manuscripts

From Jan­u­ary 24 through April 27, 2014, The Mor­gan Library and Muse­um is stag­ing an exhi­bi­tion on Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Lit­tle Prince, a sto­ry that speaks to the hearts and minds of chil­dren and adults alike. Though Saint-Exupéry was French, he wrote and pub­lished his great tale while liv­ing in New York City in 1943. Twen­ty five years lat­er, in 1968, the Mor­gan acquired the orig­i­nal man­u­script, which is now on dis­play.

petit prince cigarette

If you can’t trav­el to New York, you can vir­tu­al­ly pore over ten orig­i­nal illus­tra­tions from Le Petit Prince online. We’d rec­om­mend click­ing here, and then click­ing on the Full Screen icon in the bot­tom right-hand side of the first illus­tra­tion you see. Then start flip­ping through the pages and enjoy. As the Mor­gan notes, the pages are “replete with crossed-out words, cig­a­rette burns, and cof­fee stains.” You’ll find one such burn on the illus­tra­tion imme­di­ate­ly above.

via Metafil­ter/Brain Pick­ings

Relat­ed Con­tent:

200 Free Kids Edu­ca­tion­al Resources: Video Lessons, Apps, Books, Web­sites & More

Watch Ani­ma­tions of Oscar Wilde’s Children’s Sto­ries “The Hap­py Prince” and “The Self­ish Giant”

The Inter­na­tion­al Children’s Dig­i­tal Library Offers Free eBooks for Kids in Over 40 Lan­guages

Mark Twain Cre­ates a List of His Favorite Books For Adults & Kids (1887)

Watch the Funky, Oscar-Winning Animated Film Featuring the Music of Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass (1966)

The first part of this 1966 Oscar win­ning ani­mat­ed short is so utter­ly charm­ing, I’m sur­prised it has­n’t spawned a con­tem­po­rary remake. The theme—a brave lit­tle flea going up against greedy devel­op­ers who are trans­form­ing his rus­tic home­land into a high rise vaca­tion par­adise for cig­ar-chomp­ing high rollers and their stacked molls—sounds like the sort of thing that might appeal to Dream­works.

Of course, we’d need to flesh out the char­ac­ters if we’re shoot­ing for fea­ture length. Give that sham­bling don­key and plump-bot­tomed hen some wise­crack­ing atti­tude, and maybe some mir­rored shades. I’m think­ing some­thing in the Chris Rock/Whoopie Goldberg/Nathan Lane-type vein. Get a kid to voice the flea. Does­n’t mat­ter who, as long as he’s relat­able and bland. Who’s that kid with the hair?

Obvi­ous­ly, we’re talk­ing 3D CGI. If we thought we could sell the kid­dies on a retro 20th-cen­tu­ry vibe, we’d bring in Wes Ander­son or Tim Bur­ton. They’re sort of into that creepy stop motion  deal, right?

Speak­ing of retro, we could maybe hang onto a bit of the “Span­ish Flea” thing out of respect and because of the char­ac­ter being a flea and all. I’m think­ing maybe a hip hop remix as the cred­its roll? Find out if that kid with the hair raps. I for­get what he’s famous for…

Enough!

The orig­i­nal is absolute­ly per­fect as is, funky and fun­ny, with loads of loose‑y goose‑y per­son­al­i­ty. Like the Herb Alpert and the Tijua­na Brass sound that dri­ves it, it’s both kid-friend­ly and a bit adult. (If that gyrat­ing chang­ing cabana puts you in mind of the Dat­ing Game, it’s like­ly more than the “Span­ish Flea”/“Bachelor’s Theme” con­nec­tion. Sure­ly I was not the only child view­er tan­ta­lized by the thought of what might hap­pen when the win­ning bach­e­lor and bach­e­lorette flew off togeth­er to take their shared vaca­tion-prize.)

The oth­er half of the short, a riff on “Tijua­na Taxi,” anoth­er hit from Alpert’s 1965 album, Going Places, is pret­ty great too.

Pro­duced by leg­endary ani­ma­tor John Hub­ley and his wife, Faith, this lit­tle two-for-the-price-of-one gem fea­tures con­tri­bu­tions by some of the peri­od’s oth­er greats: Ger­ard Bald­win, Phil Dun­can, Emery Hawkins, Bar­rie Nel­son, Rod Scrib­n­er, and Ed Smith. If it leaves you with a taste for more, have a look at the Hub­leys’ work for Dizzy Gille­spie, which we fea­tured last week.

A Herb Alpert and the Tijua­na Brass Dou­ble Fea­ture won the Acad­e­my Award for Best Ani­mat­ed Short Film in 1966. You can find it in our col­lec­tion of 675 Free Online Movies, plus our col­lec­tion of 35 Free Oscar Win­ning Films Online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Dizzy Gille­spie Wor­ries About Nuclear & Envi­ron­men­tal Dis­as­ter in Vin­tage Ani­mat­ed Films

Father and Daugh­ter: An Oscar-Win­ning Ani­mat­ed Short Film

Saul Bass’ Oscar-Win­ning Ani­mat­ed Short Pon­ders Why Man Cre­ates

Ayun Hal­l­i­day was also trans­fixed by the pruri­ence of Match Game 74. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Stanley Kubrick Narrates a Promo Reel for Dr. Strangelove: Features Unused Takes


Yes­ter­day we fea­tured a trail­er for Cit­i­zen Kane nar­rat­ed by its direc­tor, a cer­tain Orson Welles. Today we give you footage of anoth­er film that needs no intro­duc­tion spo­ken over by anoth­er film­mak­er who does­n’t need one, either: Stan­ley Kubrick­’s Dr. Strangelove: or, How I Learned to Stop Wor­ry­ing and Love the Bomb. But instead of a pol­ished trail­er, Kubrick put togeth­er this near­ly twen­ty-minute “pro­mo reel,” which appears in a two-part playlist above. “Split over two parts and record­ed off the wall from the pro­jec­tion of the rare 35mm reel, the pro­mo reel fea­tures some alter­nate takes not used in the final cut,” writes Cain Rodriguez at Indiewire. “While we’re not exact­ly sure what the reel’s orig­i­nal func­tion was — maybe to pla­cate investors since the satir­i­cal ele­ments are some­what down­played — we’re glad to see this has sur­faced online.” Kubrick recounts the sto­ry of Dr. Strangelove — one as deeply famil­iar as ancient myth to those who have, like me, seen the movie count­less times, always the­atri­cal­ly. He does so in a sur­pris­ing­ly flat, straight­for­ward man­ner, giv­en that the final prod­uct turned out so thor­ough­ly shot through with the black com­e­dy of the absurd.

Over audi­ble pro­jec­tor noise, he tells of all the now-famil­iar ele­ments: the B52‑s cir­cling con­stant­ly, refu­el­ing in midair; Brigadier Gen­er­al Jack Rip­per’s sud­den order to bomb Rus­sia; Gen­er­al Buck Turgid­son’s wee-hour depar­ture for the “War Room”; the siege of Burpel­son Air Force Base; Group Cap­tain Lionel Man­drake’s strug­gle for the recall code and sub­se­quent con­fronta­tion with the “prevert”-fixated Colonel Bat Guano; Pres­i­dent Merkin Muf­fley’s bad news-break­ing call to Russ­ian Pre­mier Dmitri Kissoff; the tit­u­lar Ger­man expa­tri­ate sci­en­tist’s plan to restart soci­ety after the nuclear apoc­a­lypse. But as Kubrick talks about these scenes, some of the most mem­o­rable in 20th-cen­tu­ry cin­e­ma, we see dif­fer­ent ver­sions of them than the ones to which we’ve long grown accus­tomed: dif­fer­ent angles, dif­fer­ent cuts, even dif­fer­ent lines. Despite down­play­ing the com­e­dy, this reel does hint at the bril­liance of the mate­r­i­al, and more­over of Kubrick­’s then-coun­ter­in­tu­itive treat­ment of it. But can any­one who saw it have imag­ined to what an extent the final film would change the way we think about U.S. for­eign pol­i­cy, mil­i­tary intel­li­gence, and the very con­cept of glob­al ther­monu­clear war?

via Cinephil­ia and Beyond

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Inside Dr. Strangelove: Doc­u­men­tary Reveals How a Cold War Sto­ry Became a Kubrick Clas­sic

Aban­doned Alter­nate Titles for Two Great Films: Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove and Hitchcock’s Ver­ti­go

Watch Orson Welles’ Trail­er for Cit­i­zen Kane: As Inno­v­a­tive as the Film Itself

675 Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, etc.

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast
Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.