THanks.
Strangely, not only have I read more than half of Michener (mostly in my youth) I was leant two books by him about three years ago, finished one (forget the title—it was about Palestine) and still have Sayonara on my shelf, half finished.
I would be a better person if I were half-way through Up from Slavery instead (or played less internet chess, or Freeped Less).
What is Tales of The South Pacific about?
Back to class prep.
I read “Tales of The South Pacific” late in life, and it is mostly about...the life in the support areas in the South Pacific after the fighting had moved a little further on (if my memory serves me correctly)
I did not find it overly engrossing, but one thing I did pick out as probably pretty accurate-the boredom of war when you aren’t actually engaged in it, and the longing for home.
Sigh. I had one of my best friends who passed recently, and later in life as he became more reclusive and sick, he wanted to play Internet chess with me. I refused. He was very talented (Played a lot for a long time) and I was more or less a slightly advanced amateur. Whenever we played, I would say “Look. You always nail me within a few moves because I make that move every time. Can you just tell me what it is so I don’t do it?”
Well, he never would. And I would get my ass kicked repeatedly, even if I avoided that first blunder by sheer luck! So I told him I didn’t want to play chess with him, and he stopped asking, then he stopped seeing anyone for a few years until he died. I regret that as much as anything. I wish I had taken that time to play him online, and I could have at least talked or communicated with him. I really miss him.
On the funny side, he used to play Chess with one of my other friends who played him a lot, and was much closer in ability to him. But in all the years I knew them, he had never beaten him, but he tenaciously kept at it.
One day, in college when he lived in the basement of his parent’s house, the two of them were going at it. They set up the chess board on one of those extendable writing surfaces that can be pushed into a desk to save space, and pulled out when needed. They would then seat themselves on either side of it.
On this day as I watched, I had taken a rolling office chair with one of those adjustable oval back pads and positioned myself close to the pulled out part, the oval back part repositioned to a horizontal mode and was resting my forearms on it watching the pitched battle intently.
My other friend (Brian), for the first time in his life, was going to win. He knew it, and my other friend (the more accomplished one, Mark) surely knew it too. (They were lifelong best friends with each other)
Brian could barely suppress his glee as he looked at the board, nearly licking his lips, and Mark, knowing he was doomed, cast about frantically for SOME tactic that might even get him a draw. Mark was...a trapped animal.
As the end grew closer, I was so intent that I was leaning heavily on the back of the chair when, with a snap, it collapsed and I fell bodily onto the chess board, sending the board and all the pieces flying into the air in every direction.
Brian, was was going to win against Mark for the first time in his life, grabbed the board, put it back on the table, an frantically began collecting pieces to put the board back to where it had been, his eyes bulging, but Mark just folded his arms and said “Nope. That isn’t how it was. I don’t remember...”
I was so embarrassed and crushed I fled from the house without saying a word!