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Sunday, July 17, 2011

Sunday Book Review: The Lords of Discipline

I was talking with some friends of mine yesterday evening about how we are old enough to have read books so long ago that even though we remember actually reading the book, we don't really remember all the details. Maybe that's just part of getting old - you know - forgetting stuff. In any event, although for the most part the book reviews here at PP will be newer books (to me), this one will be a golden oldie.

Review below the jump:

I first read The Lords of Discipline in high school. Growing up in the South - and South Carolina in particular - Pat Conroy is required reading. In The Lords of Discipline, you get Pat Conroy's account of The Carolina Military Institute a/k/a The Citadel in the 1960's. Conroy attended the Citadel in this time period, so it's safe to assume he draws on much of his own experience. If you've read much of Conroy at all, you know that almost all of his works - if not every one of them - draw from much of his own life.

Although a significant amount of the plot turns on the first black cadet to attend the Institute, the book is more about the growth of the protaganist and his struggle to find his place in the martial traditions of the school he both loves and hates. I may be alone in this, but I find Pat Conroy laugh out loud funny. The banter between the cadets is wonderfully funny, and brings out the truism that if you didn't laugh about some things you'd have to cry. Also, it has some of the best insults that I've ever read or heard.

Even though I first read this book many years ago, it's like an old friend. I can pick it up off the shelf after years, flip it open to any part and dive right in. Conroy brings Charleston to life from the point of view of an outsider (which most of us are) and gives you an insight into one of the South's great characteristics: respect for the military ethos.

If you've never read The Lords of Discipline you should. If you've read it long ago and forgotten all the details, go read it again. An old friend is waiting for you on the bookshelf.

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