Meredith
Sue Willis's
Books for Readers # 225
January 31, 2023
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REVIEWS
This list is alphabetical by book author
(not reviewer)
A couple of years ago I had a solid year-long project of
reading books discussed in Novel History: Historians and
Novelists Confront America's Past (and Each Other) edited
by Mark C. Carnes. It was an interesting guide to American
novels chosen and discussed by historians (Gore Vidal's Burr,
for example, was one of them). It led me to some books and
writers I'd always wanted to sample and some I'd never have
come to on my own. I've been looking for a while for something
comparable, and I just came across a new book, Kenneth C.
Davis's Great Short Books: A Year of Reading―Briefly. It describes systematically with samples 58 short books,
mostly fiction, arranged alphabetically. It doesn't have as
much scholarly interest as the Carnes book--Davis insists he
is just another Common Reader, and he seems determined to
convince us all that reading is easy. His list is interesting,
though, and by the time I'd finished three chapters, I'd
stopped and read Alberto Moravia's Agostino, Carson McCullers' Ballad of
the Sad Café, and Kate Chopin's Awakening.
As always, I welcome your suggestions, responses and
enthusiasms.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
WINTER 2023
Now available from the Jesse Stuart Foundation: Edwina
Pendarvis's book about ballet in Appalachia, Another
World: Ballet Lessons from Appalachia.
Find
information here.
"Stepping
Through History: Pittsburghers Reflect on City's Steps"
is available on Paola Corso's blog. For more
and her work see Paola
Corso.com.
Valerie Nieman's novel In the Lonely Backwarter (see our take below) has won the 2022 Sir Walter Raleigh Award. The SWR award honors the best book of fiction by a North
Carolina writer. Previous winneers include Reynolds Price,
Jason Mott, Lee Smith. P, Charles Frazier, John Ehle, Fred
Chappell, and Allen Gurganus.
Shelley Ettinger's story collection John
& Yoko & Rowena & Me made the
shortlist for the Dzanc Books prize.
Spuyten Duyvil
has new books! Weird Girls by
Caroline Hagood; Cirrus Stratus by Shome Dasgupta; It's
No Puzzle by Cris Mazza, and much much more!
Excellent story by John Loonam now available on the Summerset
Review
Lewis Brett Smiler's story "Down
the Stairs" is on Creepy Podcast . The podcast is an
hour, but his story only takes about 34 minutes.
MSW reviews "Foote" A Mystery Novel," by Tom
Bredehoft at Southern Literary Review, November 2, 2022.
Norman Danzig's story "The
Angel of Death" has just been published at Blue
Lake Review.
Kelly
Watt's short piece "Next Exit" is up for an
honor!
Troy Hill has new stories online: The
Write Launch published his long short story "Aquarium Life" and The
Bangalore Review published his
story "Ford Man.
REVIEWS
Demon
Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver
This is a really good book, and I recommend it with all my
cylinders engaged. Probably her best work since The
Poisonwood Bible, and maybe better.
I want to start, however, with a few caveats about things
that some people may find problematic about Kingsolver's
novels. First, most of her books, are weaker in the second
half that in the first half. This is hardly uncommon: the
longer the novel, the harder it seems to be to sustain
momentum, and the easier to get lost in the trees. In Demon
Copperhead, however, Kingsolver mostly stays strong.
She is following a powerful structure (Dickens' novel David
Copperfield) that carries this novel through the
doldrums.
The second thing about Kingsolver is that while she is one of
our best living novelists, she isn't subtle. Some admirers of
literature may find this a problem, but Kingsolver has things
to say, and she says them in your face. This can tend toward
didacticism, and there is a little of that in certain speeches
here, particularly things reported by Demon that his favorite
teachers said--particularly about how Appalachia is treated in
American discourse. Generally, though, Kingsolver's directness
works well in this novel because of the splendid first person
narrative voice. Young Demon Copperhead looks us in the eye
and tells us his story. He's a kid, ages ten to early twenties
in the book, and even when he gets things wrong, he is
unreliable mostly in being too hard on himself.
Kingsolver also gets away with some of her messages because
Demon is telling us what he's learning. Sometimes he is
reporting a little lackadaisically what other say, and
sometimes enthusiastically. It's always a challenge to get
opinions and facts into fiction smoothly. I use"challenge"
here seriously, not as a euphemism for "problem." In this
novel, Kingsolver does it as well as anyone can, with Demon's
voice presiding.
The message laid out here is about the opioid crisis in
Appalachia, and more broadly in all the poor regions of the
United States, and also about the insufferable sneering of the
Media and many individual Americans at Appalachian Americans.
Demon is aware of the disdain the larger culture often holds
for everything Appalachian from accents to life style
(including historical Appalachian preference for subsistence
living over the pursuit of wealth). Kingsolver makes it clear
that the devastation is from the outside: timber companies and
coal barons who stripped the region of its resources-- and now
Big Pharma.
This latter, the devastation of profitable addictive drugs,
is something that anyone with a connection to the mountains is
familiar with. I had a young cousin die last year of an
overdose of Fentanyl. Many of us, middle class being no
barrier, have these direct connections. Kingsolver's people,
her imaginative community, are like relatives or neighbors. By
nature and by ideology, she does not condescend to people, and
that includes junkies.
Let me end with the Dickens connection. Kingsolver writes
big, and, as I suggested above, sometimes her stories get a
little saggy in the second half, but this novel follows
another novel's plot, not too closely, but enough for
resonance and structure. I would suggest David
Copperfield gives her a path that helps keep her story
on track and moving. And this is not a failing but a strength.
It follows David Copperfield especially in its love
stories. Victorian novels, specifically Dickens, were made for
Kingsolver. She's got good guys and the bad guys and social
evils and cruelty to children and a host of lovable
eccentrics. She uses variations on names and situations from
Dickens--the kindly neighbors who often take Demon in are the
Peggots; his beloved child wife is Dori. And then, once you've
met Angus, if you remember your Dickens--well, that gives you
a strong idea of where the love story is going. Turning the
overly sweet, soft wifey into a drug addict is a brilliant
touch.
There is, also Victorian style, a happy ending. This is not
to to suggest it is a happy book, only a hopeful book. The
story is strewn with people dead of oxycodene and fentanyl and
drunken accidents. There is a wonderful psychopath (like David
Copperfield's "friend" Steerforth in Dickens) who everyone
falls under the influence of. There is child labor and sexual
exploitation and football, which both holds the community
together and undermines it.
The community, by the way, is Lee County in the Appalachian
west end of Virginia (NOT WEST VIRGINIA! ). My father's family
is from there, and other family members of mine are from
Tennessee north and east of Knoxville, where a good deal of
the novel happens. This adds to the pleasure for me, but
doesn't have a lot to do with anything except that I can vouch
for at least a baseline of accuracy.
It's a big book, but goes like a houseafire, and makes me
think our novels could use more Victorian models and Victorian
virtues.
Go Kingsolver!
How about a southwestern Virginia Middlemarch next?
For another points of view, see the New
York Times. The
Washington Post, the Crimson and The
Guardian, which does a nice job with the
Dickens connection: "'Angus' Winfield not only has sobriety in
the modern sense (she's dead set against drugs of any kind),
but also possesses the human qualities that the angelic Agnes
[in Dickens] singularly lacks. 'There's much to be said,'
muses Damon, 'for lying around with a person on beanbags,
firing popcorn penalties at each other for offside fart
violations.' Take that, Victorian Angel in the House. Angus is
a living and appealing alternative, farts and all, to the
Doris and Emmys in a way that Dickens's Agnes never quite
manages to be."
Agostino by
Alberto Moravia
This small book is pretty much precisely as advertised in
Kenneth C. Davis's Great Short Books. Themes and
accomplishment, aside, you read this for the journey not the
map: that is, the story takes second place to our experience
of it. A thirteen year old boy is on vacation at the sea with
his mother. He has a wildly guilty passion for her body, which
begins with childish worshipfulness, but when she starts an
affair with a young young working class man, the boy Agostino
falls apart, starts hanging out with a little crew of tough
boys who hate him for his relative wealth, and tease him and
beat him up. They have an old sugar daddy with six fingers on
each hand who makes a pass at Agostino, which leads the boys
to insisting he's giving the old guy sex.
It's all sordid and angry and sad, and quite a wonderfully
intense hour and a half of reading. Lots of pain, but also
energy and passion.
Now I want to read more Moravia.
The Awakening by
Kate Chopin
Next on the Kenneth C. Davis's Great Short Books list is one I had read years ago, probably in the very early
nineteen-eighties. I never really liked it back then (but it
was required reading by an aspiring Second Wave feminist). I
couldn't really warm to Edna Pontelllier, especially with all
her assumptions about being taken cared of by men and her easy
dependence on various servants, all black
as far as I could tell. My only strong memories from my
earlier reading were of the beach community and, of course,
the swims in the Gulf. And I never accepted Edna's last swim.
Edna seemed isolated and the only one of her kind.
I can't say I warmed to Edna much this reading either, but
now I appreciate the beach resort, the community life, the
view of a woman caught up in a destructive social milieu. I
don't know if I got what Chopin wanted me to get, or what the
late twentieth century feminist readers got, but I felt the
place and time and especially the other characters-- the
small, aging, unpleasant but inspired pianist; the
wife-and-mother who seems to enjoy the life Edna is rejecting,
but who also experiences a normal but intensely difficult
child birth almost on stage.
Edna chooses to take a lover and really enjoys sex, but
between her enjoyment of sex and the vivid story of giving
birth, you understand why the book, published in 1899,
famously destroyed Chopin's writing career. Claire Vaye
Watkins (see below) says, "Unlike
Flaubert, Chopin declines to explicitly condemn her heroine.
Critics were especially unsettled by this."
It is then a fine novella, which perhaps is best read with
sympathy but not identification with the protagonist. The
childbirth and sex are well done, and Chopin did a good job on
Edna's two little boys who are completely unsentimentalized
little guys, happier (and nicer) in the country than in the
city. Edna loves them episodically, but doesn't center her
life around them.
Even the ending surprised me with the beautiful inevitability
of the sensuality and opened me to see it as an inevitability
of the place and time, of the limitations on the bourgeois
young wife.
There's a good 2020 essay
I'd recommend if you want to think more about The
Awakening: "Unlike Flaubert, Chopin declines to
explicitly condemn her heroine. Critics were especially
unsettled by this." ("The
Classic Novel That Saw Pleasure as a Path to Freedom" by
Claire Vaye Watkins – adapted from Watkins; introduction to
"The Awakening: And Other Stories," from Penguin Classics.
Feb. 5, 2020 in the New York Times ).
Ballad of
the Sad Café by Carson McCullers
This is the third of my little short novels project.
McCullers is pretty much all Southern Gothic here, with
entertaining but exaggerated characters who all seem to be
living out predetermined roles, like figures in a fairy tale.
The focal character is a physically strong businesswoman who
is a liitle gender fluid, but inspires a man to lover her and
even marries him for a week and a half. Then she falls in
love, and eventually her husband comes back, and a showdown
ensues.
It's interesting, entertaining reading, but feels like it
was supposed to be more serious that it actually is.
(Image of Vanessa Redgrave as Miss Amelia and Cork Hubbert
as Cousin Lymon in the 1991 movie.)
Lincoln
at Gettysburg: the Words That Remade America by Garry
Wills
Garry Willis is an historian and author of a lot of books on
politics and history. This little gem, published in 1993,
covers the history of the Gettysburg Address succinctly, but
focuses perhaps most interestingly on the rhetoric that
Lincoln and others employed in the time of the Civil War–its
basis in Greek oratorical forms, the mid-nineteenth century
cemetery movement (that turned graveyards into beautifully
landscaped places for contemplation), and, perhaps most
interesting, how the Address was at the vanguard of a
revolution in thought about the founding ideas of the United
States as well.
I didn't read all the appendices, which include the famous
orator Edward Everett's main address at Gettysburg, which went
on for a couple of hours.One interesting fact is that Lincoln
was never supposed to offer a long peroration–that was the
Everett's job. Lincoln was always expected to do a brief few
sentences–the actual dedication of the cemetery with all the
dead soldiers from the great battle a few months earlier.
There are lots of enjoyable notes about Lincoln coming down
the hall of the White House late at night, in his shirt tails
to share something funny with his secretaries. But it isn't a
book about humanizing the greats, it's about how Lincoln
attempted through rhetoric to reorient the American project
from the Constitution, with its details and compromises with
slavery, to the Declaration of Independence and its clear
statement on equality of human beings.
Really worth reading–another one of those books that I can't
get through very fast, but so worthwhile.
The
Well-Beloved by Thomas Hardy
This was Hardy's final published novel--1897. A different
version had been serialized around 1892, then came Jude
the Obscure in 1895 followed by this much revised Well-Beloved.
It's an odd book to me, a little like a Henry James novella in
which an artistic man plays out some fate or low-key tragedy.
The artist here is a sculptor who we never see at work. He was
born on a tiny stone cutters island in the south of England,
where he has a long term relationship with a cultivated island
girl, and a fantasy-love life in which a Spirit of Love keeps
changing containers, i.e., women. It's pretty airy-fairy stuff
to my taste. He deserts his first love, falls for a rich
island girl, they run away together, then break up, more or
less by mutual consent, and he goes about his shifting passion
business.
At the age of forty, he goes back to the island, discovers
that his first love, probably his true love, is dead, but her
daughter looks just like her, so he falls in love with her for
awhile, then leaves, and then, in his early sixties, goes back
and tries to marry the daughter, the grand-daughter of his
first love.
I can't say I'm enthusiastic about the book, but here's what
I like: in the final part, when he's "old," the theme really
is old age, and I don't read a lot of that. He doesn't feel
his age, or really even look it, but is certainly seen as old
by the twenty year old he wants to marry. He rails in his
gentle way (really, far more Henry Jamesian than I would have
expected from Hardy) and rediscovers the rich island girl he
broke up with yea those many years ago.
For him, she takes off her veils, hair pieces, extraordinary
make up. And puts her lined face in the sunlight for him. It
has a kind of happy ending, probably as fantastical as his
love life has been, and our hero focuses his days on local
public work–salubrious cottages for workers, a better water
supply. Very calm and practical, his tempestuous fire of love
died out, his art of no interest to him anymore.
Far
from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy
Now we're looking at the one of the reliable Hardy classics.
This was his fourth novel and first big popular hit, with lots
of melodrama and suffering but a happy ending. A bold and
beautiful young woman takes on the management of a farm for
herself, working with an ex-love, but then falls for a bounder
(it's a hard book to talk about without spoilers, because
every chapter has more plot unfolding, fast).
Hardy's women, even in the The Well-Beloved are
often capable and even with touches of the proto-feminist. The
women (especially working class ones) seem to be far less
restrained that the more middle-class Victorians' women do.
Hardy is half a generation younger that the others, and he had
cousins who were in service,and everyone when he was growing
up was involved in some kind of working with your hands.
Sitting in parlors doing fancy work and chatting wasn't really
an option. His women seem to have wider stances and more
defiant chins.
So this is one of Hardy's relatively cheerful stories, with a
sheaf of funny but obviously beloved mechanicals, farm boys
and drunkards. So different from The Well-Beloved.
The
Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy
This is, as it is meant to be, a sweet beautiful book about
friendship–Boy meets Mole, who is a cheerful humorous
character who shares proverbs and other short wisdom. He also
likes cake. The book has been a huge best seller, and is beautifully
illustrated. Boy and Mole help Fox who informs them that
under ordinary circumstances he would have killed Mole, but
Mole chews him free from a trap, and he becomes a
mostly-silent, somewhat bemused companion. He's my favorite
character.
Next they meet a stunningly beautifully drawn Horse who has
even more wisdom to impart and a little magic. He says the
bravest thing he ever said was "Help." He's the demi-god who
makes everything right.
The hand-lettered text integrates beautifully with the art,
but someone a beginning read would be unlikely to be able to
read it. I wonder if children like it as much as adults do.
A
Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews
Nomi Nickel is a high school senior whose mother and older
sister have run away from their Mennonite community in western
Canada. She makes jokes about having no future but chicken
killing at a local factory; she smokes cigarettes, has a boyfriend, does various
drugs, skips school–does an infinite number of things
forbidden by their branch of what she calls "the Mennos," and
yet stays around to take care of her father, a sometimes
clueless elementary school teacher who always wears a suit and
tie. Towards the end of the book, he also starts selling or
giving away all the furniture in the house. The center of his
life had been his wife, Nomi's mother, and the church, led
with appalling rigor by Nomi's mother's brother Hans, a.k.a.
Hands and The Mouth. He puts an even heavier hand on the old
traditions of the town, keeping the schools and hospital and
church in line, and happily excommunicating/shunning those who
don't conform.
It's a poetic story, full of as much of popular music and
culture and Nomi and her friends can squeeze into it. It is
colored by loneliness as well as creative anti-social
behavior, and Nomi's yearning for her mother and older sister.
This is one of those books that meets the promises of its
blurbs: it is edgy, different, moving, touching, and it
presents love in the middle of a dysfunctional family that
seems to be part of a dysfunctional culture.
In the
Lonely Backwater by Valerie Nieman
This will be a short review, because we just had a long one
in last issue. Ed
Davis's review intrigued me so much that I read the book
myself and highly recommend it. The voice of Maggie is
intelligent and charming, and I love her passion for her
lake and her North Carolina woods as well as the memoir by her
Carl Linnaeus, whose Lachesus Laponica, or A Tour in
Lapland, written in 1811, is her favorite reading
matter.
Even though the novel has a murder, don't expect a standard
mystery: Nieman is less interested in violence and her villain
than in the flawed but ordinary people around the marina.
Maggie's relationship with her alcoholic father is
well-portrayed and moving. She may not be able to depend on
him to be sober, and she may have to be responsible or herself
far beyond what a girl just finishing high school ought to be,
but there is also a lot of love there.
The surprise at the end is not my favorite part--I'm not sure
I believe it, and I like to feel I can trust my narrators,
when I like them, as I do Maggie. Still, like all the best
novels, this one is not about its last page, but about the
journey and the voice. The great strength of novels, in my
opinion, is how we travel intimately with the characters and
their lives and their places, and In the Lonely Backwater does this superbly.
TWO BY ELIZABETH STROUT
I Am Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout
This is my second read of this short novel, and once again I
am impressedand admiring, but don't quite understand the
excitement. Four years ago, when I read it, I wrote: "This
small novel is direct and compact. The central story line is
about a writer with a repressive and deprived early life who
now has a mysterious nine week illness that keeps her in the
hospital. The heart of the story is about how her laconic
estranged mother shows up and cares for her. A lot of things
are left open-ended-- the snake when the little girl is locked
in the truck, for example--but there is a sparseness to Lucy's
life that appeals to me."
This time, the structure appealed to me most, and related to
that (and my recent interest in novellas), it's smallness.
Lucy's mother's visits alternate with references to parts of
Lucy's life she is determined not to write about in
this book, parts of the present and hints of the future. Her
mother tells the latest about people in their hometown.
Gradually Lucy reveals her odd and dangerous childhood. The
present of the story--the story line-- is that the mother
comes to the hospital and when Lucy gets better, she leaves.
The themes and images and hints are of the relationship of
mothers and daughters, the strength of dysfunctional families,
a small town, New York City.
For my
previous comments, see Issue #199.
Anything
is Possible by Elizabeth Strout
I reread I Am Lucy Barton largely because of its
relation to this novel I hadn't read before. The Lucy Barton
world is interesting and marvelously written, but something
doesn't quite click for me. The only thing I can put my finger
on is that in spite of all the abuse and horror in everyone's
childhood--all seems to be forgiven in the end. Here, Abel, a
successful air conditioning business owner who ate out of
dumpsters as a child is sweet and loving and gives his life at
the end to get his granddaughter's toy unicorn back to her. He
is listening to a failed actor who needs an ear. In this
scene, and I came about half way to tears, which what I do
with all Dickensian orphans, which is what most of Strout's
people feel like to me. Things happen in Anythng is
Possible like children being made to eat chunks of
liver floating in the toilet. Creative torture rather than
sexual abuse, the favorite of probably too many twenty-first
century writers.
Again, I'll read more of her books, but they aren't on top of
my pile.
TWO BY CORA HARRISON
Chain
of Evidence By Cora Harrison
I read a recommendation of Cora Harrison's historical
mysteries from Tana French, and couldn't find the first books
available for Kindle at the library. I usually read mysteries
and other genre on the Kindle, loving the speed and ease and
not having to pay for them.
Harrison has a couple of series. One features a nun in the
1920's with a lot of Irish Revolution background. The second
series I dipped into is in the 16th century (Henry VIII is the
young English king). In the latter series, the sleuth is a brehon, a sort of judge/detective, a woman named Mara who administers
the old Gaelic law, which seems progressive in comparison to
to English law of the time. The Gaelic law seems to prefer
fines to drawing and quartering, for example. That's
interesting, as is a lot of the material about Gaelic
traditions and values. It also has some fun sleuthing by Mara
and her half dozen pupils (she runs a sort of
apprenticeship/law school too, and-- oh--she's married to a
minor Irish king-- not the brightest candle in the chandelier,
but a real hunk). The ending has a nice twist, and there is
(at least at first glance) murder by cattle stampede. Even
though I have a good-humored feeling about it, I was shocked
by some sloppiness. So sloppy, I wasn't even sure I was going
to keep reading.
It's the ninth in the series, and I always suspect that
successful or even moderately successful series genre writers
start going too fast, or losing interest, or maybe being
pushed by their editors or their fans to finish more books
faster.
But this just seemed inexcusable: there was a twenty page
passage halfway in that was about three drafts short of being
finished. It was loosely written which doesn't necessary stop
me because I read these things fast, but the details just
collapse. Mara sends her assistant, Fachtman, on an overnight trip to
bring a doctor back to look at their corpse. And while he's
away, during scenes when Mara needs something done, Fachtman
continues to do chores for her. He pops up as if
Harrison just forgot he was away. Mara asks him to pass on a
message to the students, to bring her things she needs--and
all the while he's miles away! He has no lines, so he's only
being used as a tool , but it just sets my teeth on edge like
the sound of a dentist's drill.
A
Shocking Assassination by Cora Harrison
This book from the Reverend Mother series is written so much
better than the 16th century brehon book.
This one takes place in Cork just a couple of years after
much of the city was burned by the British-backed Black and
Tans. It's really a classic near-cozy mystery with a solid
list of suspects to the killing of a corrupt city official in
the middle of a morning market (indoors when the gas lights
went out). The Republicans get blamed, and they are much in
evidence, fighting to have all the counties of Ireland become
free of England.
The Reverend mother is a cool character, even as (perhaps) an
attempt is made on her life. There's a young Republican girl
Eileen who is an alternate POV character, who has adventures
breaking a boyfriend out of "gaol," and gives legs to the
stately wimpled Rev. Mother.
There's a nice lightness to the telling in spite of death and
danger and very heavy political background–the comfort a good
mystery gives aficionados, I guess, that our mystery will be
solved an our most important characters survive.
And I was truly surprised by the actual murderer!
THREE
MORE BY MICHAEL CONNELLY
The Dark
Hours by Michael Connelly
This is near the end of what Connelly has written about
Bosch. The procedural and action here are clear and gripping
as always, but Bosch is diminished: the star is Renee Ballard,
who has a lot less resonance, even though she gets a new dog. Harry is an eminence grise,
saving her bacon once or twice, but mostly following her lead,
is sort of sad.
As always, this one is set n the present of the time of
writing, so we've got the pandemic and masking and a
demoralized LAPD with criticism of all cops after George
Floyd. I know Connelly does his research, so I assume there's
something to this. He manages a nice balance of how it feels
to be a cop with the usual rotten cops and ex cops causing
more crime than they solve. That really is an interesting
quality of the books.
The Last Coyote by Michael Connelly
I've read this one a few times. This is where he's on leave
for knocking Lt. Pounds through a window, seeing the shrink
Dr. Hinijos, and solving the mystery of his mother's murder.
It feels so much fresher than the later novels, Bosch's
obsession with his calling works. Irving Irwin's emotions are
a little mysterious, but Connelly is good on these people who
have extremely mixed motives.
These novels from the 90's are when Bosch is angrier and
rougher (on perps and himself)–altogether more dangerous and
vulnerable and neurotic. By the time he has a daughter, he's a
changed man. Still fun to read, but these early ones are the
best, and why wouldn't they be? The whole thing with a
money-in-the-bank series, I guess, is that people want the
product. I wondered if that played into Cora Harrison's
sloppiness.
You understand why Connelly wants to try a Bosch first person
and to have Bosch a possible crook, and Bosch with his half
brother Mickey Haller, etc. Etc. But the first ones are still
best.
Trunk Music by
Michael Connelly
This 1997 Harry Bosch book is another one that hits the
sweet spot: lots of plot, redoubled and twisted; return of
Eleanor Wish; both Jerry Edgar and Kiz Rider; AND Lt. Billets.
Los Angeles and Las Vegas. A little low life Hollywood (bad
film producer turned money launderer), a former beauty now
apparently evil, but with a little gold in her heart. Some
organized crime, a conflict with the Feds again. Nasty
Chastain from internal affairs.
I've been embarrassed in the past about my multiple readings
of these books, but I think I see what I'm after–in this case,
on the Kindle, I was reading while we were traveling and I
wasn't reading much at all, so I would read a couple of pages
before sleep and turn away from it easily,
I am also always interested in what works in novels, which
probably will never be how I write. And at this point, it is
the familiar people, the lulling police procedure, much of it
in Bosch's mind as he figures things out, probably in the end
more like a writer than a cop, but still interesting.
The
Princess Bride by William Goldman
I've been
reading about this popular book and the movie made from it,
and about William Goldman himself, who was a successful screen
writer and semi-successful novelist (well, his books always
sold). He wrote screen plays for Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid as well as The Princess Bride and for Misery. There is lots of stuff out there
(i.e. on the Web) about his Hollywood experiences and
relationships with Stephen King and the actors in PB. I
read the 30th anniversary edition with the first chapter of Buttercup's
Baby, and a lot of other meta material.
I think I'll describe myself as a reluctant enjoyer of the
book. Goldman really does/did love all the adventure and
excitement and his funny characters ("I am Inigo Montoya. You
killed my father. Prepare to die..." as my nearly 4 year old
grandson likes to recite).
But I have the feeling Goldman doesn't want to sink all the
way in. He doesn't want to look foolish, maybe, to admit he
loves the fantasy, so he does his elaborate parody and satire,
and intersperses comments from "William Goldman" the screen
writer. He's trying to be a cynical sophisticated grown up and
a stand up comic (he must have loved working with Billy
Crystal on the movie).
I get it why so many people like it, but there's just too
much meta armature for me--some of it is hilarious and wildly
clever, but I'm willing to believe the tale without the parody
and cynicism.
Note on the reaction of the 6 year old big sister of the
almost-four-year old: she liked having her father read it to
her, but got bored and confused by the meta stuff, so her
father skipped it. "Overall, she liked it, although I think it
started too slowly for her. She basically wanted to get to the
miracles as fast as possible."
Maybe that's the version I wanted.
A Clash of
Kings by George R.R. Martin
More rereading. This second book ends with Bran running away
with the Frogman kids. Meanwhile, the wildling Osha takes
Rickon and the appropriate dire wolf. This is to separate the
boys.
Winterfell is a mess; Jon has just gone over to the Free
Folk. Tyrion is alive but direly wounded. The Lannisters are
in charge at King's Landing; Arya and Hot Pie and Gendry have
just escaped Harrenhal. Sansa has been dumped, and is happy
but doesn't know what's going to happen to her. Catelyn is at
Rivverun with Brienne and Jaime. Major threads left hanging
that will return: Stannis's plans; what's going on with Robb.
If none of that means anything to you, please ignore the rest
too.
When I read this book the first time, years ago, all these
details were mixed with the previous and following books. I
was reading so fast that I didn't separate the books in my
mind. I still have no idea what happened in what book,
although I have these notes on the second book, and the first
book had all the character introductions and infamous death of
the one who appeared to be the protagonist.
Is it the next book that has the Red Wedding? When does Theon
get his mutilation and demotion to Reek?
We Are
Not One: A History of America's Fight Over Israel by
Eric Alterman Reviewed by Joe Chuman
Joe Chuman writes: "[The] recently published We Are Not
One [is] about America's history with Israel. It is by
Eric Alterman, journalist, historian and long-time columnist
with the Nation. The book is a biggy - more than 500
pages and packed with information. It is critical but tries to
steer clear of polemics. Quite an achievement. This review
comes with its own video. It
appeared... under the auspices of the Puffin Cultural
Forum." (See Chuman's interview of Alterman on Puffin's
Interview Series here. )
The installation of Israel's latest government, the most
right-wing in its history, puts Israel back in the news. But
Israel has never been far from the headlines. For a small
nation, the size and population of the state of New Jersey,
Israel commands attention far disproportionate to its size.
No doubt Israel as a focus of international awareness is
tagged to its unique and tightly intertwined relation to the
United States. It also results from the world's relentless
fascination with Jews, which has served as a basis for
prejudice, allegations of Jewish conspiracies, and much worse.
Books on Israel, its history, its origins, and its unique
relationship with the United States abound in great numbers. A
most welcome addition to the field is a magisterial treatise
by historian and journalist, Eric Alterman. We Are Not One: A
History of America's Fight Over Israel is a comprehensive work
of more than 500 pages packed with information in which
Alterman strives to document every episode in America's
relation to the Jewish state since its founding 75 years ago.
It recounts and goes behind the scene to detail well-known
events as well as those which have been mostly forgotten.
Inclusive of Alterman's concerns is Israel-American relations
as a matter of foreign policy. But he is no less thorough in
his coverage of the relationship between Israel and Israelis
to the primarily non-Orthodox American Jewish diaspora. It is
from this relation that the title of the book is most likely
drawn. In my upbringing as a Jew, I was taught that Jews are a
single people, unified by a common sense of peoplehood which
needs to serve as a bulwark of loyalty to one's own. This
never seemed the case to me, and today it is less true than
ever. Israel and American Jewry are stridently divided. Most
starkly, as Alterman documents, American Jews remain steadily
left of center in their political values and voting patterns.
Younger generations of Americans are becoming more
progressive. By contrast, Israelis have moved consistently to
the right, including younger cohorts of the population. As
Alterman notes, American Jews comprise a “blue state” and
Israel a “red state.” Indeed,70 percent of Israelis favor
Donald Trump. Among American Jews, that number is reversed.
This chasm is unbridgeable as never before.
Alterman is also concerned with the role of the press in
shaping Israel's image and with major Jewish organizations
that serve as a bulwark in defense of Israel and claim to
defend American views, even as their positions radically
depart from where the vast majority of contemporary American
Jews stand on Israel.
I credit Alterman with courage in his undertaking. To write
about Israel, or even to render a comment, is to place oneself
before a firing squad. Some will upbraid Alterman for being an
enemy of Israel. Others will condemn him for being too
sympathetic. Still others will contend that he is obsessed
with Israel's sins, while soft-peddling criticism of the
Palestinians and the existential threats to Israel's security
looming just over its borders.
Alterman's voice is that of the historian. He is deeply
immersed in the issues, yet he partially floats above them to
provide descriptions of events and their actors without
becoming ensnared in polemics. This avoidance is not equatable
with an absence of criticism. To the contrary, Alterman is a
truth-teller committed to getting beneath “official” stories
and headlines to reveal hitherto unknown facts and debunk
accepted myths.
An early chapter deals with the role that the iconic novel
and subsequent film, Exodus, played in framing the image of
Israel and the new, post-Holocaust Jew in the American mind.
Leon Uris's book, on the New York Times best-seller list for a
year, found its place along with the Bible on the bookshelves
in myriad Jewish homes. But as Alterman tells us, David
Ben-Gurion admitted that the work suffered from the author's
lack of talent, and Golda Meir opined that the novel contained
“a lot of kitsch.” Both averred, however, that it was
marvelous publicity and propaganda for the new nation.
The film version, starring Paul Newman, employed romanticized
cowboy motifs, Arabs referred to as the “dregs of humanity,”
and it is strewn with historical inaccuracies. But the film
was a box office success, and as Alterman notes, “it continued
to be shown at synagogue fundraisers, community centers,
summer camps, and Hebrew schools for decades to come.” It
formatted Israel's image in the American mind in the state's
early years while playing fast and loose with historical
verities.
Interesting facts abound. They are too many and too complex
to recount, but a few I found of particular interest. New to
this reviewer was the role of Harry Truman in supporting
Israel's birth. Truman, coming from Missouri, harbored usual
anti-Jewish prejudices, knew little about Palestine before
becoming president and was certainly no Zionist. Yet, as
Alterman makes clear, Truman had Jewish friends, a warm
relationship with Chaim Weizmann, and was deeply moved by the
plight of Jews in post-War displaced persons camps. It was
emotion, more than political principles, that caused Truman,
in the face of opposition from his State Department, to
declare his support for the State of Israel just minutes after
David Ben-Gurion declared its independence. As such, America's
ties to Israel were launched at its very creation.
The `67 War was a watershed event that changed the image of
Israel in the minds of different political factions. It would
be useful to quote Alterman here:
“Before 1967, Israel had been understood to be a progressive
cause, and the Arabs a regressive one. Israel had successively
positioned itself in the anti-imperialist camp and had enjoyed
good relations with other emerging nations, especially those
in Africa. The socialist orientation of its dominant party,
together with the 'David vs. Goliath' global image to which it
had attached itself vis-a-vis the Arab world placed it within
the geography of the 'good guy' camp for most liberals and
leftists...”
“Regarding Black-Jewish relations pre-1967, US civil rights
leaders, including, especially, Martin Luther King were almost
uniformly pro-Israel...”
“The Six-Day War said 'good-bye' to all that. The cause of
the Palestinians had long been part of the Marxist-inspired
'third-world' international revolutionary vanguard that
included North Vietnam, Cuba, Nasser's Egypt, and other
non-aligned or pro-Soviet governments opposed to the Americans
and their allies...The Black-Jewish alliance had endured for
more than half a century...Now the Student Non-Violent
Coordinating Committee (SNCC), a New Left civil rights
organization, began publishing articles reporting on what it
called Israel's conquest of 'Arab homes and land through
terror.'”
Much else changed with the `67 War and factions and political
dynamics concerning Israel have grown increasingly divisive
and strident. The War enabled the settlement of the West Bank
and East Jerusalem, and with the rise of the Likud Party,
Israel has moved increasingly to the right. A contributing
cause, no doubt, was Palestinian terrorism and the two
intifadas which marginalized the Israel peace movement. In
addition, the Orthodox sector of the population has grown and
augmented its political power.
Alterman's treatise, which is presented chronologically,
details in great complexity episodes in Israel's history and
the involvement of a string of actors who were responsive to
changing conditions and competing political dynamics. Nixon
was known as an antisemite, but his bigotry's pervasiveness
and crudity are shocking. Alterman cites Kissinger's
discomfort with Jews, despite his own Jewishness, as he
engaged in shuttle diplomacy. The author brings us back to the
“Zionism is racism” controversy played out at the United
Nations, and the role of Daniel Moynihan, which helped launch
him into the senate.
Jimmy Carter and the Camp David Accords rightly receives a
chapter that includes the painful controversy occasioned by
Andrew Young, Carter's UN ambassador, when Young held a secret
meeting with a Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO)
official. The meeting led to Young's forced resignation, which
heightened Black-Jewish tensions. But, as Alterman often makes
clear, such controversies were more complex than they were
reported at the time: There had previously been private
meetings between US officials and the PLO, which did not
create a stir.
Lebanon, the massacre at the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps,
and the complicity of Ariel Sharon are described in their
complexity, as well as the allegations that the Iraq War
against Hussein was pursued for Israel's benefit.
I found of special interest Alterman's chapter on Barack
Obama. Its title “Basically a Liberal Jew,” was taken from a
remark jokingly made by the president to an audience at New
York's Temple Emmanuel in 2018. It's my view that Obama is a
philosemite whose political career was launched in Chicago
with the support of Jewish friends and associates. Though he
has disagreements with Israel, it was Obama who had inscribed
into law more than $3 billion given annually to Israel, which
enabled Israel to construct its Iron Dome defense system,
deployed to protect the state from incoming missiles from
Gaza. Despite an unprecedented commitment to Israel's
security, the contempt for Obama coming from Israel and the
calumny issued from the Jewish establishment has been
exceedingly harsh. No less has been the contempt for Jimmy
Carter, who brokered the Camp David Accords,that generated the
peace treaty between Israel and Egypt. Egypt comprises almost
one-half of the Arab world, and one would think that Israel
and its American supporters would be eternally grateful. But
because Carter has been critical of the occupation, he has
been the object of almost unmitigated calumny by those who
have set themselves up to speak for Israel's interests, and by
extension the American Jewish community – which they do not.
Such criticism opens the door to another major theme treated
in Alterman's book, namely the exceptionless defense of Israel
by conservative apologists no matter how indefensible Israel's
conduct may be. Among the major voices in that camp are the
American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), the Zionist
Organization of America (ZOA), and the Conference of
Presidents of Major Jewish Organizations. There are multitudes
of individuals in the press, journals of opinion (Commentary
the most noteworthy), and among neo-conservative pundits who
also hold apologist views.
Criticisms of Israel's treatment of the Palestinians, the
injustices and humiliations generated by the occupations, and
abuses perpetrated by the military or by settlers, often with
impunity, swiftly result in efforts to marginalize the
critics. Very often there are charges of antisemitism, even
against critics who are otherwise supportive of the Jewish
state. Those pointing to Israel's excesses are summarily
placed in the same category as those who wish to do Israel
harm, blindly forgetting that criticism can be rendered in the
service of positive support and care. Arguments that require
an appreciation for detail, nuance, and complexity are subject
to polemics and crude reductionisms. To this reviewer, it has
long appeared as an odd and tragic state of affairs for a
culture that has long been characterized and enriched by
dialogue, engaged discussion, and a non-dogmatic stance in
search for truth to avoid constructive criticism.
This obdurateness is rock solid and forms the basis of policy
deployed by AIPAC when lobbying Congress, and is voiced in
support of the Israeli government and its American allies. The
political stance of Israel's defenders perhaps reached its
most extreme manifestation in right-wing Jewish advocacy for
Donald Trump in his alliance with Benjamin Netanyahu. The
following is an illustration of where die-hard support for
Israel has arrived. I cite from Alterman's chapter aptly
titled, “Coming Unglued.”
“Trump's extraordinary largess to the Israelis was due in
part to the similarities in how he and Benjamin Netanyahu
viewed the world...Both politicians were profoundly
corrupt...Both leaders displayed degrees of racism, nativism,
and ethnocentrism that were considered extreme even by the
standards of the racist, nativist, and ethnocentric parties
they led. Politically, both were aspiring authoritarians who
were eager to forge alliances with fellow illiberal
politicians consolidating power based on ethnonationalist
appeals in places such as Russia, Turkey, Poland, the Czech
Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, the Philippines, Brazil, Egypt,
Oman, Azerbaijan, the Gulf States, Saudi Arabia, and
elsewhere. Neither evinced any patience, much less respect,
for democratic niceties such as freedom of speech, freedom of
the press, or the separation of powers...Common enemies bred
friendships of convenience. Netanyahu repeatedly excused
Trump's antisemitism and that of his political allies. So did
Trump's Jewish supporters, who were willing to make the same
tradeoff that had appealed to the neoconservatives of a
previous generation, when they had chosen to embrace
antisemitic but pro-Zionist evangelical preachers beginning in
the 1970s. As long as Trump was willing to indulge Netanyahu,
they were willing to indulge Trump.”
The Trump-Netanyahu alliance is emblematic of where Israel
has arrived. Israeli society and American Jews, except for the
Orthodox (who comprise only ten percent of American Jewry)
could not be further apart. With regard to political and
social values, they reflect inverted images of each other. As
noted at the beginning of this review seventy percent of
Israelis, including the younger generations, support Donald
Trump. With American Jews, it is the opposite.
Netanyahu is in the Prime Minister's office again, this time
beholden to ominous reactionary forces that promise to
undermine and transform Israel's democracy and its democratic
institutions. In the past election, the Labor Party, the party
of Israel's founders and founding vision, won but three seats
in the Knesset. Meretz, the left-wing party, none.
As Americans move further to the left, Israelis move further
to the right. The American Jewish community holds very little
in common with their Israeli counterparts. It's a multi-tiered
tragedy. I have personally known people of my parents'
generation who devoted their lives to Israel and the Zionist
cause. It was their guiding passion.
In a sense, Israel had always held them in contempt: eager to
accept their support, while, in line with Zionist ideology,
disparaging diaspora Jews for refusing to make aliyah, that is
coming “home” to Israel, where they could be fulfilled as
Jews. Today that contempt has been more fully realized.
Since evangelicals have revived their commitment to
“Christian Zionism” they proclaim a special love for the
Jewish people and for Israel. Their theology dictates the Jews
need to be regrouped in the Holy Land to jump-start the second
coming of Christ, at which point they will either be converted
to Christianity or die. Israel has been willing to accept the
“friendship” of evangelicals who support it with millions of
dollars, assist in the immigration of Jews to Israel, and
aggressively support the most right-wing and militarist
objectives of the Israeli state. A tragic reality is, given
that the evangelical population is many times that of the
number of American Jews, Israel no longer needs the American
Jewish community for its support. American Jews will
increasingly be treated as irrelevant to Israel's interests.
In conversation with Eric Alterman, he opined that the breach
between Israel and the American Jewish population (except for
the Orthodox) cannot be reconciled. They are moving in the
opposite direction and he believes the situation is hopeless.
Alterman further believes that American Jewish leadership for
the past several decades has been committing a grand mistake.
It has striven to construct Jewish identity on the two
pillars. The first is reverence for the memory of Holocaust
victims and the other is support for Israel. Yet, the
Holocaust is long ago, and as his book makes clear, there is
less in Israel to admire.
For Alterman, this current state of affairs opens up new
opportunities. It provides a moment in which self-identified
Jewish Americans can work to revive and rediscover the riches
of their own traditions, religious and cultural. In such a
turn, there is very valuable work to be done.
We Are Not Alone does not provide solutions to the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict, nor, as suggested, does it offer
ways in which Israel can resolve its internal problems, or how
American Jewish organizations can relate to Israel with
greater integrity as we look to the future. As stated, Eric
Alterman's exhaustive treatise is a work of history,
meticulously researched, honestly presented, lucidly
elaborated, and eminently readable.
It is necessary reading for anyone who wishes to achieve
greater insight and understanding into a central dynamic of
American foreign policy and the place of Israel in the
political life of American Jews.
COMMENTS IN
RESPONSE TO THE LAST ISSUE
Jayne Moore Waldrop writes: "I enjoyed your
Walter Tevis review. He was a great writer and now a Kentucky
Writers Hall of Fame inductee. Here in Lexington we're closely
connected to his writing, especially the early work done while
he lived here or later work set in central Kentucky. I thought
you might appreciate this story about the creation of the
Harmon Room at the Lexington 21c Hotel. https://www.21cmuseumhotels.com/lexington/blog/2021/the-harmon-room-at-21c-lexington/ "
David Weinberger says, "Great issue of your
newsletter....Exceptional! I loved the mix of genres, the
books that were turned into movies, your engagement with the
1619 Project, the Twilight of the Self review, the
photo of Paul Newman, and so much more."
Donna Meredith writes: "The 1619 Project has been on my To-Read list for some time, and I hope to get
to it this year. I think Isabel Wilkerson’s Caste and The Warmth of Other Suns probably cover a lot of the
same territory. They are also excellent eye-openers—full of
facts we need to know."
Eddy Pendarvis wrote to share a "quip about
Henry James that I read in Dan Simmons' novel, The Fifth
Heart. The narrative is quoting a friend of James who
supposedly said of his writing that far from biting off more
than he could chew, he chewed more than he bit off. I love
that, as James' style is so frustrating to me in all but his
most action-filled works (like The Turn of the Screw)."
BELINDA ANDERSON SUGGESTS
THE 1619 PROJECT FOR CHILDREN
Belinda Anderson points us toward some excellent resources
for children that have been developed out of (or are related
to) the 1619
Project:
The 1619 Project: Born on the Water
This is a picture book in verse, written by Nikole
Hannah-Jones & Renee Watson with illustrations by Nikkolas
Smith. The audio version is read by Nikole Hannah-Jones
Belinda also suggests
Black
Indians: A Hidden Heritage,
by William Loren Katz. The 2012 edition of this
nonfiction book is aimed at teen readers.
Black Past . This
website is one of many with lots of material--written and
illustrations for learning.
MORE BOOKS FOR
CHILDREN
Belinda Anderson also made this recommendation: "It is a book
that would make a wonderful gift, for both children and
adults: The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse,
written and illustrated by Charlie Mackesy. [See my
response above.]
"This is a famous excerpt from the book:
"“What is the bravest thing you’ve ever said?” asked the
boy.
“Help,” said the horse.
“Asking for help isn’t giving up,” said the horse. “It’s
refusing to give up.”
'Here's a passage I particularly liked:
“Is your glass half empty or half full?” asked the mole
“I think I’m grateful to have a glass,” said the boy.
"It is a book quietly illustrated and kindly written about
friendship and learning to let yourself be yourself."
MOLLY GILMAN
RECOMMENDS KAGE BAKER'S NOVELS
In
the distant future, two incredible discoveries were
made—each alone, useless. First: the secret to time
travel—but only how to travel backwards and return to the
moment of departure. Second: the secret to immortality—but
the procedure could only be performed on young children, who
were not the ones with the vast wealth to afford it. Then
one pioneer, known only as "Doctor Zeus", realized how to
combine them. If one could send agents far, far back in
time, and create immortals to live forward through history,
those immortals could work to preserve "lost" treasures and
otherwise cache great wealth for their future masters.
It worked, and Doctor Zeus Incorporated, aka "The Company",
became (…WILL become?)
the most rich, powerful, and secretly influential force in
all past and future. The books of The Company series follow
these immortal beings, who live in real time through the
past with limited knowledge of the future, trying to find
fulfillment in their work while dealing with the burden of
knowing how everything, and everyone, around them will end.
I
always marvel that Kage Baker isn't up there with Ray
Bradbury and Isaac Asimov of the science fiction greats. Her
syntax is beautiful, her characters are dazzling, and the
books' vivid sense of place is exquisite,
especially prehistoric California. She
was, among other things, a teacher of Elizabethan English,
so no wonder the early books—which can only be classified as Historical
Science Fiction—are so immersive. As the series proceeds,
the other time periods seamlessly transition from known to
the unknown and all feel just as grounded. I wish she was
just on the other side of the gender revolution in having
more of her characters being female, but her central
heroine, the botanist Mendoza, is brilliant and carries the
series. I take every opportunity to recommend this series,
especially book one, "In the Garden of Iden", a great
introduction which stands on its own well, and my personal
favorite: book three, "Mendoza in Hollywood", for its lush immersion
in nature. But the future books are stunning as well for the
world-building and characterization. More people should know
and enjoy this fantastic storytelling.
TROY HILL
ON ISAAC BABEL
I first read Babel late last winter in an online class and
group called Story Club led by the short story writer George
Saunders. We read and discussed Babel's famous war story, "My
First Goose," which felt all the more immediate given the recent invasion of Ukraine.
This summer I serendipitously happened upon a 1950s
translation of the complete collection of Babel's short
stories in the giveaway pile at our local dump and took it
home. One story moved me in particular. I thought about
writing something about it online and posting the story for
public access but realized it isn't quite old enough to be in
the public domain and translations restart the copyright
clock. At any rate, I still felt inspired to type it up and
send it out to a few folks who might also get something out of
it, and it seemed like a good Christmas-time activity given
the nature of the story.
Born in a Jewish ghetto in Odessa in 1894, Isaac Babel became
a journalist and a writer of short fiction. His short story
collection, Red Cavalry, was inspired by his
experiences in the Polish-Russian war of 1920, where he served
as a war correspondent and a supply officer in a Soviet
regiment. Red Cavalry was published in the Soviet
Union 1932 and, in the early 1930s, 0Babel was regarded as one
of the most promising talents of Soviet literature.
Ultimately, however, his ambiguous, expressionist style came
to be at odds with the social realism endorsed by the state.
Out of favor, he was arrested in 1939 by the NKVD (a previous
version of the KGB), accused of espionage, and executed by
gunshot in 1940.
Most of the stories in Red Cavalry depict the brutality and
violence of war.
"Pan Apolek" stands out in this regard. The narrator of this
story is stationed in Poland, residing in the house of a
fugitive priest who has fled the Soviet Cossack battalions,
but where the priest's housekeeper, Pani Eliza, remains.
("Pan" and "pani" are the masculine and feminine forms of a
Polish honorific meaning "master" or "lord"—something akin to
"mister" and "madame.") Under this roof, the narrator meets
Pan Apolek, an itinerant painter who paints biblical scenes
and portraits for money and travels with a blind accordion
player. We learn that when Pan Apolek first came to town
thirty years prior, he was hired by the local priest to
decorate the village's new church. Once his murals are
revealed and it's clear that Apolek painted local peasants in
the image of the saints, including a trampy local Jewish woman
as Mary Magdalene and a "lame convert" as St. Paul, he is
declared a heretic by the Catholic church while becoming a
hero to poor villagers. Toward the end of the story, back in
the present, Pan Apolek tells our narrator "an unthinkable"
secret gospel.
Here is a story written by a Jewish Odesan, serving among
Cossacks (generally known to be anti-semitic), in an atheist
Soviet army, stationed among Polish Catholics. From this swirl
of ethnicities, nationalities, and conflicting beliefs, and
despite the narrator's "bitter scorn for the curs and swine of
mankind," emerges a tale of mysterious empathy.
You can check out a...recent translation of Red Cavalry by the esteemed Boris Dralyuk, who has also translated the
contemporary Ukrainian novelist Andrey Kurkov (among others).
SHELLEY
ETTINGER'S YEAR'S BEST READS 2022
-
The City We Became & The World We Make,
a duology by NK Jemisin
-
Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo
-
The Secret Lives of Church Ladies by Deesha
Philyaw
-
Love Marriage by Monica Ali
-
Milkman by Anna Burns
-
The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan
-
The President and the Frog by Carolina De
Robertis
Shelley says, "My reading life still hasn't recovered to its
pre-pandemic pre-Texas levels, still not reading as much and
still reading much more crap than I used to, but I did manage
to read some gems, and these are the best of them. The San
Antonio Public Library system is a bright spot, really
wonderful. Looking forward to a year with a book and a dog
sharing my lap."
SPECIAL
FOR WRITERS
Jane Friedman's excellent free newsletter Electric Speed
suggests a web site for finding weather from the past for your
nonfiction and historical fiction or just if you always
wondered what the weather was like the day you were born: Wunderground provides
hourly weather history going back to 1930.
Nikolas
Kozloff sends us another article on writing by AI--a pretty even-handed piece--
an interview of indie para-normal cozy writer Jennifer Lepp
who sees the bad and the good. [And... Another controversy
continues: Fiction as the new flashpoint in the culture wars:
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/why-fiction-is-the-new-flashpoint-in-the-culture-wars-cp8f0jkmp]
He follows up with article on the infamous American Dirt scandal--the scandal being cultural
appropriation? Or, cancel culture? Interesting, either
way. Also, take a look at some thoughts on the issue in my
occasional online journal A
Journal of Practical Writing.
Some of the pieces from The New York Times may have
paywalls.
Check out Odyssey
Writing Workshops. They are an in- person
and online writing school aimed at science fiction and fantasy
writers: not cheap, but extensive in their offerings, which
include marketing webinars and beginner level classes on
character, dialogue, scene, etc. The prices range from under a
hundred dollars (for a two hour webinar licenced for 60 days)
to multi-class $2500 packages. A typical single class is
around $250 for four sessions.
Reviews of these classes are welcome.
More
Hints from a Professional Editor by Danny Williams
Got a nice novel manuscript in the shop this week. Has some
mildly magical elements—something more than natural, but way
short of dragons and crystal balls.* About half of it is set
in 1860 or 1861 Virginia, on a quite wealthy horse breeding,
trading, and racing concern. It's very carefully written, and
even with my nearly pathological attention to detail I
couldn't catch the author in a timeline slip or a substantial
tense shift or anything.
Most of my advice was to take greater advantage of the
setting, an opulent estate in the final years of the Virginia
slave economy. There was a magnificent plantation mansion, and
gala feasts and dances. Don't just say the woman was dressing
for dinner, tell me about her gown, bustle, wig, or corset.
The gaily clad menfolk, too. And that feast—what's on the
table? All the bounty of farm, ranch, orchard, and sea are
withing reach, so tempt me with some. And that opulent
mansion, I want to hear about its colonnaded veranda, English
oak woodwork, and manicured landscape.
The author had written some nice old-time-sounding dialogue,
and I encouraged him to do more. Many of the suggestions I've
actually learned in my academic study of Appalachian speech,
which differs from modern Standard American English largely in
its retention of obsolescent syntax.** Adding essentially
meaningless auxiliaries to verbs: I might could do that. Other
quaint redundancies: I like these ones. Using "anymore"
positively, and "of" with times and seasons: Anymore, I like
to sleep later of a morning. And one character was visiting
horseman from Louisiana, so I would give him a little belle
femme, merci, excusez moi, and à tout a l-heure.
Speech idiosyncrasies can add differentiation to dialogue. An
individual might be prone to throat-clearing before speaking,
cursing, or substituting long or obscure words for simple
ones. A former co-worker ended every sentence with rising
pitch, so every utterance sounded like a question. Nowadays,
in every group of speakers there's probably one who begins
every remark with "so." All these tools are obvious, but it
requires awareness and effort for authors to prevent dialogue
from sounding like their own.***
Maybe my input will prompt the author to reexamine the
manuscript, maybe not. I honestly do not care much. This work
brings me joy.
* Paola Corso, Giovanna's 86 Circles and Other Stories.
Twenty-some years ago I had the pleasure of reading the
manuscript of this collection. Ms. Corso's habitual setting is
urban Appalachian, a much under-recognized genre, and many of
these stories feature just this type of quasi-magical touches.
Sadly, in the end I was denied the opportunity of working with
this gifted fiction writer, poet, and photographer. University
of Wisconsin offered her a quite modest advance, and my
tightwad director would not allow me to match it. (No budget
concerns on his pet projects, of course.) Anyhow, read this,
and more of her work, for enjoyment and for instruction.
** Walt Wolfram and Donna Christian, Appalachian Speech.
After all the years and scholarship, this slender 1976 opus is
still the place to start on Appalachian (or other old-timey)
dialect. Quite possibly it will be as far as you need to go
with the subject, sparing you some of the more ponderous
tomes.
*** Must mention Ken Sullivan, former long-time editor of Goldenseal magazine. He had a real knack for taking submissions from all
types of informants and somehow doing a great job of editing
while keeping the writer's individual voice. I try to keep him
in mind while doing my own work.
Send me some of your stuff—vague notions or developing
manuscripts. I'll put a couple hours into checking it out and
giving an opinion, for free. I would do every editing job in
its entirety for free, except that I'd get so immersed I would
have no time for cleaning the bird cage or showering.
Danny Williams, editorwv@hotmail.com (See one of my other personae at Facebook Page "Sassafras
Music Shop.")
GOOD READING
& LISTENING ONLINE
HOW TO
HELP WRITERS IF YOU LIKE THEIR WORK
Do you have a favorite author? Are you a writer who wants to
do a favor for other writers–andmaybe they'll do a favor for
you?
Here's how:
• Write an Amazon review. Go to Amazon.com
and search the book you recently (or a long time ago!)
read.Click through to its Amazon catalog page. Scroll down
below the ads and the editorial reviews and product details to
Customer Reviews, and then scroll a little farther to REVIEW
THIS BOOK.
• You don't have to have bought the book from Amazon.
• They may ask you to set up a reviewer's account. You only
have to do it once, and you can stay anonymous if you choose
or make up a handle.
• Give the book as many stars as you reasonably can. I rarely
review books I can't give five. Inflated grades? For sure, but
this is about publicizing books we enjoyed
and admired.
• Write a review. Short is fine. In fact, short is probably
better than long on Amazon. You can reuse the review on
GoodReads and Barnes & Noble and anywhere else.
• Don't use foul language. They won't publish a review if
they don't like the words in it, and they can be heavy-handed.
It's a 'bot "reading" the review, not a person.
You will be doing literature a favor, and all of us with
books in print thank you in advance!
Meredith Sue
Willis's
Books for Readers # 226
March 28, 2023
For functioning links and best
appearance,
go to our permanent location.
Eddy Pendarvis on Free
Indirect Discourse.
Article at At A Journal of Practical Writing
Above: Walter Mosley; stamps of Toni Morrison
and Ernest J. Gaines!--and Valeria Luiselli betwen the stamps.
Now available: schedule for the West
Virginia Writers Conference, Cedar Lakes
Conference Center, Ripley, West Virginia, June 9- 11,
2023. To see workshops and presenters, scroll down to
"Spring Conference 2023.
Suzanne McConnell's book of
writing advice from and exercises based on Kurt Vonnegut's
work is available in four languages already (English,
Spanish, Russian, and Japanese) with Polish, Catalan, and
Chinese coming soon!
REVIEWS
This list is alphabetical by book author
(not reviewer)
I want to call attention to the announcements section below with a number of exciting new books, some
reviewed or to be reviewed in this newsletter. Also check the good reading online list. This
includes stories and reviews and the latest article in my
occasional publication, A Journal of Practical Writing, an
online-only journal with concrete tips about writing and
publication--revision, action, point of view, cultural
appropriation, hints from a professional editor, a method for
outlining, revision techniques for novels, and a lot more. The
article is by Eddy Pendarvis, and it's called "Free Indirect Discourse: Two (or Three) Points of View at
Once?" It gives an excellent analysis of one of the
important ways of telling stories in modern fiction.
The first review is of Jim Minick's excellent,
just-published nonfiction book about a devastating tornado in
the 1950's. This is timely in spring 2023 with deadly tornados
hitting the South, and also of personal interest to me because
of the tornado that ripped apart my hometown shortly before I
was born.
Please let
me know your reaction to any of the articles here-- as
did these readers in the Comments from
Readers section.
Finally, there's an interesting Lit Hub piece
about Tim O'Brien's Lake of the Woods and how
it changed the writer's career. My review of the novel in Issue # 218.
Without
Warning: The Tornado of Udall by Jim Minick
The Udall tornado struck on the night of May 25, 1955, and it
was the worst ever in Kansas, killing nearly ninety people
within the city limits of Udall, an all-American small town
like the setting for dozens of movies and t.v. shows of the
era. It had a water tower, kids on bikes tossing newspapers
onto porches, a part-time mayor everyone knew personally,
several protestant churches, and a handful of stores.
Minick makes a portrait of a town and its disaster into a
highly gripping story. The first third of the book with
brilliant simplicity just tells the stories, hour by hour:
there is a bridal shower in the community center; people worry
about the threatening weather; the radio warns of storms, but
not tornados. It hits unexpectedly, heralded by heavy hail
and the infamous sound of a giant freight train. Some people
get into their storm cellars (this is Kansas, after all, so
many families had them). Teen-aged Bobby Atkinson is knocked
out and wakes up with a broken leg, two broken arms, a smashed
hand, numerous bits of wood and rubble in his skin and
flesh--and a two by two board plunged in his back, puncturing
a lung and injuring other organs. He doesn't know the extent
of his injuries, but knows he is all alone in the rain and
drags himself for help, not knowing most of his family is
dead. He takes shelter in the family car for a while, and is
discovered by a neighbor– who flashes a flashlight on him,
asks how he is, and then leaves. Minick in his epilogue
considers this incident closely along with other moments that
could have gone worse or better, right or wrong, that would
have changed this history.
Bobby is just one of many people who we follow through the
storm: one family in a storm cellar chops through debris to
let another family in. People are stripped of every stitch of
clothing, babies and young children smashed dead. The elderly
and the little ones were most vulnerable.
Minick's stand-out characters are probably Bobby Atkinson
with the broken bones and Mayor Earl "Toots" Rowe whose boss
gives him six weeks off to help organize the recovery. Toots
leads people searching through the rubble, talks to the media,
and, perhaps above all, convinces everyone that if they just
work together they can rebuild their flattened town and
recreate their community.
Another large chunk of the book is the rebuilding, the year
after the tornado, which is not as breathtaking as the night
of the tornado, but in some ways perhaps even more
interesting. It details the support that poured in and the
ordinary and extraordinary efforts and kindness of people to
one another. There are a few incidents like the man who
abandoned the wounded Bobby Atkinson teenager, but more of the
story is about making common cause and helping out your
neighbors.. Money is raised from the region and the nation.
Large groups of Mennonite men, trained in disaster relief as
conscientious objectors come and help with the search for
bodies. The Red Cross is there and the Salivation Army and the
National Guard. Unions send volunteers to put up houses, and
churches and other organizations send donations.
Almost unbelievably, the schools are rebuilt in time to have
classes September, four months after the tornado. Homes go up
in weeks and months, and the businesses downtown. It's a town
of only 1,000 people, but still, that is a lot of structures.
It is in the end, an astounding and inspiring community and
government partnership that rebuilds Udall.
The last part of the book is about commemorations and
forgetting.
Minick reminds us that the Udall Tornado was just ten years
after WWII ended, and that it was also in the middle of the
Cold War. People feared nuclear holocaust and had fresh
memories of war. They were trained in civil defense and ready
to work together. That sense of commonality also makes it a
time many Americans look back to as The Golden Age: small
towns where you knew your neighbors; strong family structures,
men generally considered the heads of families. Women who
worked outside the home were teachers or perhaps post
mistresses or clerks in a family store. People theoretically
knew and took strength from their place, both the town and
their role in it.
Minick doesn't make this point directly, but it is also clear
that this was a largely homogeneous demographic. As far as
Minick tells us, and his exhaustive and excellent research
suggests that he didn't miss a lot-- everyone was white. Many
people weren't that many generations from immigration, but the
War had forged a common identity. So while the wonderful
outpouring of aid and support was partly natural human
kindness, it was also the natural human tendency to identify
with those who are most like us. There was enormous
camaraderie and communal identity with these small town
European background white folks in their familiar roles and
lives.
Minick ends with an epilogue wondering if we will be able to
use this kind of good will to combat climate change, which is
an interesting and timely line of thinking. I would add that I
also wonder if we will be able to have such communal problem
solving when everyone is not of similar color, religion,
background, and experience. The Udallians rebuilt and stayed:
many survivors married each other and, even if they left for
school or work, often came back to live.
When will we begin to see Our Town in the lives of the
Others, whoever they might be?
The
Story of My Teeth by Valeria Luiselli
She is an impressively accomplished writer, not forty yet,
Mexican but living in the States and writing in English. I thought at first this
book, for all of its charm and detail, was going to go off
into a workshop-type story about writing stories. She even has
an afterward about how the novel was commissioned by an art
gallery, and how she found Mexican workers in a juice factory
who read sections as she wrote, and then recorded their
reactions to give her ideas.
I assumed this was all meta stuff, clever, but fanciful.
Well, according to Wikipedia and other sources online, it
really happened. She is a nonfiction writer, too, and I'm
beginning to think this is much more of a mix of documentary
and surrealism rather than a hoax. The photos at the end of
the book seem to be actual markets and businesses. So it seems
my suspicious nature still makes it a joke on me.
But without regard to all this apparatus, it is a charming
short novel, told, for the first four fifths or so, by Gustavo
"Highway" Sánchez, a man who is a security guard at the juice
factory, who becomes, in his forties, an auctioneer. Here he
makes up stories to add to the value of what he sells. He
considers himself to be an artist giving value to the objects,
not lying.
Oh, and he also has his teeth replaced by Marilyn Monroe's
teeth, and his estranged son kidnaps him, drugs him and has
the teeth removed. There's more with teeth, sad and funny,
with an art gallery of clown images (maybe real?) and all
sorts of characters, and a chronology by the translator of the
book into English–it's a trip, solid and engaging.
Lincoln by Gore Vidal
I have been reading books about Abraham Lincoln.
First there was the Garry
Wills book about the Gettysburg address, and then a
lecture related to that book, and now I have read Vidal's
excellent novel, which, at least according to Vidal's
afterword, hews pretty close to the historical facts. It is
long and follows the political details with great care, which
may not be to everyone's taste, and it certainly helps to have
some general background on the Civil War--I've never studied
it, but I was a teenager at the hundredth anniversary of the
War, and of my home state West Virginia's secession from
Virginia during the war. A lot was being written and broadcast
at the time, and I was particularly struck by the nonfiction
book Andersonville about the gory tortuous details
of one prison camp for Union soldiers. It was the first really
vivid book on human horrors visited on other human beings--I
read it before I read books on the Holocaust or chattel slavery.
Part of what is so appealing here is that
cynical, louche ol' Gore Vidal clearly loves Lincoln for
having at once high ideals and a brilliant sense of politics.
He was, as Vidal presents him, completely underrated by most
of his peers, who saw him variously as weak, racist in the way
of most white Americans of his time, and somehow consistently
choosing the right people for his cabinet. He seemed able
always to strike deals that would move his objectives forward.
And his objective, certainly not new news, was to hold the
United States together as a single nation.
It is a thoroughly character driven novel.
Vidal has the story arc from history and so focuses on the
people, men mostly, although he does better with Mary Todd
Lincoln that most accounts do. He does not give Lincoln a turn
at point of view, which I think is an excellent choice. The
point of view characters include Lincoln's young secretary
John Hay who wrote extensively about Lincoln; Seward, the
slippery Secretary of State who Lincoln beat out for the
Republican nomination for president, who seems to be the
character Vidal most identifies with for his cleverness and,
maybe, for his desire for an American empire to include Mexico
and the Caribbean. Vidal did one of these big historical
novels about
Aaron Burr too.
Mary Lincoln is also a point of view, and s he
is often astute in her judgement of people and her devotion to
her husband, but she also has serious mental health problems,
which include her unbridled purchases both for the White House
and herself. She isn't an easy character, but Vidal offers a
plausible version.
The least successful of the point of view
characters is probably Salmon Chase, who is a hypocrite
without much sense of humor. A canting Christian abolitionist,
he spends most of his time plotting against Lincoln in hopes
of becoming president himself. Finally, there is David Herold,
one of John Wilkes Booth's dim-witted assistant assassins.
In spite of all the politics, there are plenty
of well-conceived dramatizations of action, including a couple
of times when Lincoln rides alone at night and has his hat
shot off by secessionists, a visit to an active war zone, Mary
Lincoln's carriage accident, a lot of Hay's visits to a
high-class brothel, and the well-documented assassination at
Ford's theater itself.
Really a brilliant book that brings out all the
best of Vidal's cleverness and jaundiced eye toward political
behavior and poseurs-- and also his honest admiration for
those who hold the line against true evil.
Uncle
Tom's Children by Richard Wright
I began this book with one of the 5 novellas in
it, "Big Boy Leaves Home," because it was one if the
recommended short novels in Kenneth
C. Davis's Great
Short Books: A Year of Reading―Briefly. I've talked
about several of these already in recent issues (Agonstino, Ballad
of the Sad Café, The
Awakening, Bonjour
Tristesse, etc.).
This one is a wonderful sharp story, and I meant
to read just this one, but decided to go on with the whole
volume of Uncle Tom's Children with its five
brilliant, appalling stories of Black life in the U.S.South in
the first half of the twentieth century.
At some point James Baldwin took Wright to task
for writing "everybody's protest novel," and it's true that these stories are all about witnessing and
protesting and throwing it in the faces of nice white people
what it was like to be black in the South during Jim Crow
times. I'd just say that yes, these are protest novels, but
many novels are something besides straight literature, and in
all honestly, I think the strength of a novel is that it can
be all at once poetic in language and profound in its human
insights, and also a witness to political injustice.
The thing that shocked me in Uncle Tom's
Children, aside from the constant and extreme
brutality, is that the first three stories have a lot of white
people characters, and not all two dimensional villains. Black
writers' work today often leans towards worlds that minimize
white participation, but Wright was frequently writing to
white people, for maximum shock and educational value.
He also has a real respect for the committment
of the Communists, of whatever color. The CPUSA was in the
nineteen thirties a solid allly of black activists, present
for demonstrations and ready to die themselves in the cause of
stopping White supremacy. They had an agenda, but put
themselves on the line, and Wright includes them on the side
of angels in his books.
These novellas start with a couple of pretty
depressing stories of bootless defiance, death, and a handful
of survivors: Big Boy of "Big Boy Leaves Home" is one of a
group of boys who skip school and set off a blood bath by
swimming in a white man's pond where they aren't supposed to
be, being caught there by a white woman who sees them naked
and throws a fit. Her fiancé shows up with a gun– and before
it's over, a home is burned down, a lynching is perpetrated,
and Big Boy gets away by the skin of his teeth at terrible
cost to his community. It's mostly dialogue, more heavily
transliterated that we usually do in the 2020's, but more real
than you want it to be.
Wright today is painful to read, but he is still
the best at what he does. Two of the other novellas have adult
protagonists going through moments of great crisis: a
successful preacher and leader of his people has to decide
whether or not to go against the white people who consider him
a good representative of his people and participate in a
protest for food relief. This one, set during the Depression,
and in spite of a vivid and brutal beating, has a strong,
hopeful ending of black and white people marching together for
bread.
The final novella, added in later editions after
the publishers rejected it for the first edition, has an older
woman losing her sons, one to prison, and one to the torturing
white supremacists. She, like the preacher, has to decide if
she is going to take action, and she does--against a white spy
who has infiltrated plans for a communist meeting. She takes
her action knowing her son and she will die. One of the things
Wright does brilliantly is get complex motivations and
thoughts in the mind of a person of limited formal education.
This is a classic of American literature.
The Adventures of Jake A
Coal Camp Boy by Victor M. Depta
The publisher calls these stories flash fiction, and the back
cover recommends "other humorous works" by the author. In
fact, these are Depta's memory pieces of a boy growing up in a
Southern West Virginia Coal Camp after the Second World War
that are indeed brief and
often have funny elements, but they are also a serious
portrait of a certain kind of poverty and of a large, loving,
but frequently dysfunctional family.
The boy Jake is around 5 in the first pieces, and he is a
teenager on his way out of poverty by joining the the army at
the end. In between we have his affectionate but often absent
and drunken mother, and his grandparents and especially his
Aunt Thelma, who is fiercely protective of Jake and also
pretty fierce and foul-mouthed. Jake starts a brush fire and
kills a copperhead with a hoe. He catches a big catfish that
tosses his uncles out of the boat, and he is taught to kill
and clean a chicken for dinner.
He's a sensitive yet practical child who loves the beauty of
his mountains and recoils from the coal dust and the general
poverty caused by the withdrawal of the resource-extracting
companies that left so much of West Virginia scarred
physically and spiritually.
There are good times with Jake's friends, struggles with a a
slew of coarse grown uncles he avoids for his own safety, and
loneliness in the midst of crowds of families and neighbors.
The brief pieces create a much greater whole than their parts,
as entertaining as those parts are.
It's a brief, strong collection that delivers precisely what
the title promises, and much more.
In the Garden
of Iden by Kage Baker
I almost stopped reading this science fiction novel
recommended by Molly Gilman in the last issue because the beginning
has dialogue that felt too slangy-jokey to me. Obviously if
you're doing time travel (for the overview of the set up of Kage Baker's series,
see Molly Gilman's introduction),
you have to deal with how people talk, but since we don't'
really know how people talk in our future, and since Baker
chose wisely not to use sixteenth century Spanish for the
protagonist Mendoza's story, I feel pretty strongly it would
be easier to suspend disbelief with a more neutral diction.
But all my complaints disappeared once Mendoza, a new Company
operative sent to Queen Catherine Tudor's England, falls in
love and starts speaking, to the "mortals," the non-cyborg
people, in Elizabethan English. She handles that so
well–naming when the people are speaking Latin and then the
local English, and then, in the team's private quarters,
speaking ywentieth century English. The story isn't highly
plotted–it's more situations. Young Mendoza loves her botany
and her job of saving plants that will be becoming extinct and
keeping them in Company storage till they're needed. And then
a tall smart handsome Protestant young man with a past comes
into her field of vision, and it's all ill-fated love story–
lots of young sexual love, lots of Mendoza's boss Joseph
working apparent miracles and throwing humorous fits, lots of
the older team member Nef listening to Company radio
broadcasts special for the operatives with reports on what's
happening in London at Catherine and Phillip's court. And of
course the burnings at the stake and worse, which become not
just reports, but reality for the characters.
MORE MOSLEY!
Parishoner by Walter Mosley
Pretty bloody, and probably one of his
hand-tied-behind-the-back books, but I don't fault him for
churning them out, making a fortune like the old Victorians,
feeding the hunger, but also doing serious work.
This one plays with ideas about sin and can there be
forgiveness for people who have been professional or
near-professional killers. The book has a home-made church of
the unforgiven (my name, not his) where our protagonist Xavier
"Ecks" Rule, a parishoner, has found fellowship and direction.
He gets called out on a mystery–where are three now-grown baby
white boys who were stolen as babies and sold?
Mayhem ensues, heads bashed in with baseball bats, sexual
exploitation of children. It's all dramatic, and, as always,
Mosley is dependable for his heart being more or less in the
right political place. I don't think his stories are always as
deep as he thinks they are, but I keep reading, am always
willing to give his work a try.
Fortunate
Son by Walter Mosley
This tale is just an inch off the plane of real-world. It's
the story of two brothers, one black and one white, not
genetically related but deeply connected. The white boy is
Eric, brilliant and athletic, whom everyone wants to love and
who loves no one–except his brother, and the brother's mother
who loved Eric too. Eric comes to believe that everyone he
cares for will be lost, killed or seriously damaged.
The Black brother Tommy/Lucky is one of the lost ones–taken
away from Eric and his father by Lucky's genetic father and
grandmother, and plunged into maybe fifteen years of almost
every kind of disaster that typically befalls poor young Black
men in America: he doesn't fit in at school, disappoints his
father, is beaten, drops out, becomes a drug runner, slips
into the prison industrial complex.
No one finds him, no one stops him or notices he is spending
every day in a secret overgrown passage between streets where
people throw trash that he cleans up, where stray dogs and
parrots live. When a body is tossed over, he and another
runaway build a tomb for it.
In juvenile hall, where he is sent for a murder he's innocent
of, he is raped and beaten. He ends up in his late teens on
the street, never bitter, always looking at the bright side of
things–finding good in the worst of his sufferings.
After many years the brothers reconnect, and at that point it
seems a toss up if the end will be (a) death and disaster for
everyone; (b) death and disaster for one of the brothers who
will sacrifice his life for the other; or (c) some kind of
happy or semi-happy ending. Mosley's choice seems fairly
arbitrary to me, but it is doesn't harm the pleasure of this
quirky, fabulist, very moving novel.
SHORT TAKES: SECOND LOOKS AND MORE
Christianity:
A Very Short Introduction by Linda Woodhead
This was a reread of one of the Oxford "Very Short" series,
little bitty books which often give me just as much
information as I need at a particular moment. This one begins
by distinguishing western Christianity and Eastern Orthodox,
the former deeply concerned with sin, the latter less
sin-oriented. Then it moves on to three broad categories that
I find very useful: (1) Church Christianity– organized,
priests and hierarchy, obedience valued (examples are the
Roman Catholics and Lutheran Churches; (2) Biblical
Christianity– mostly Protestant, with Bible reading and
interpreting that can be highly individualistic or requiring
obedience to a leader (example would be the Anabaptists who
became the Baptists); and (3) Mystical Christianity, which is
a kind of unmediated apprehension of the supernatural (ranging
from Quakers to certain cloistered visionary Catholics). The
point with mystical Christianity is that authority comes not
from the book or the church hierarchy but from within the
believer. These versions of the religion are extremely
different, and of course there are combinations– Biblical
churches with a lot of authoritarianism, for example.
The little book ends with an overview of the increasing
importance of the Southern hemisphere Christians who tend to
stay out of politics, are increasing in numbers, and often mix
Biblical and mystical.
Angel's
Flight by Michael Connelly
Angel's Flight is still in Connelly's Bosch novels
sweet spot (written in the late nineteen nineties). This has
all my favorite elements-- quirky characters, Los Angeles
places, police lore-- but I got tired of the multiplying
plots. The first crime, the murders on Angel's Flight, led to
a previous crime that had to be solved to solve the first
crime,and then several more twists and turns with other crimes
and the sad involvement of Bosch's old partner Frankie
Sheehan. It's a good Bosch, but it has what a visual artist
friend of mine used to call "eyelashes," when you work too
long on a painting and start doing unnecessary little curves
and dots and curlicues–eyelashes.
Bonjour
Tristesse by Francoise Sagan
This was another of the short novels recommended by
Kenneth C. Davis in his Great
Short Books list.
I somehow bought a cheap but really weird translation to
English, possibly a machine translation. It frequently got
pronouns wrong, and probably some words as well, but on the
other hand, some of the passages were quite delightful such as
the narrator's voice when she is mulling over what kind of
people she and her father are (light, not serious, selfish).
Those parts are lively English, rather as if a young French
woman were writing in good but not precisely correct English.
It's a very tightly told story--all voice, a funny take on
sex as pleasure and conquest, with the girl, still in her late
teens, following her dad's lead in having affairs. There is a
shocking but not completely unhappy ending. It's easy to see
why it was so scandalous and popular in the late nineteen
fifties. It's more fun than it should be--there are no really
admirable characters, but it is refreshing to experience life
as a young materialist and sensualist.
What on earth would this character have been like at fifty?
A Storm
of Swords George R.R. Martin (nothing but spoilers)
Continuing to go through GRRM's Song of Ice and Fire for pleasure and learning how to tell a big story. This is book
number 3, dead center of what he has actually published-- more
than a thousand pages of mostly prime real estate including
the deadly weddings--evil Joffrey's' and, of course, the Red
Wedding.
The book follows Brienne the Maid of Tarth who is far better
with her sword than with relationships. She is taking Jaime
Lannister south. They are captured by Vargo Hoat and his
so-called Brave Companions who enjoy lopping off hands. And
feet.
Then there's the whole Jon
Snow-joins-the-wildings-but-not-really plot with the
delightful Ygritte. Jon suffers, fights, flees the wildings.
Is accused of treason by his brothers at the Black Watch, and
ends up getting elected Lord Commander of the Black Watch due
to Sam's politicking. Possible King Stannis takes action and
saves the Wall from the wildings and their giants and
mammoths. I had totally forgotten that part from my earlier
reading.
Meanwhile, Arya walks off leaving the Hound nearly dead.
Littlefinger pushes Lyssa out the Moon window (I've been
watching the actor who played Littlefinger so well in the HBO
series, Aiden Gillen--in The Wire and I just can't
shake the idea that his Baltimore councilman character is
about to do some semi-medieval treachery on the Starks or the
Lannisters).
Here, Jaime does a few almost decent things, including
telling Tyrion he Jaime was responsible for what happened to
Tyrion's first wife. He gives Brienne a sword and a quest.
Tyrion shoots his dad in the privy with a crossbow after
strangling Shae.
Meanwhile, back with the dragons, Danerys exiles Jorah
Mormont. I've totally lost the order in my breathless rush.
But the breathless momentum is the name of the game in this
novel, and you feel GRRM having a wonderful time. And I find
it fun just to name the events I remember. At some level is a
huge bloody soap opera, but if you're categorizing, so is the Iliad.
The Walk to the
End of the World by Suzy McKee Charnas
I read this 1974 post apocalyptic feminist novel because the
writer died recently and I saw her obituary. The style is
competent, although I had that feeling I get with good science
fiction, even with Octavia Butler sometimes, of too much haste
in moving the story forward. This one has a really awful
culture in which men are not only patriarchal brutes, but
literally only have sex (at least in theory) in order to
reproduce, and then give those boys who are born rigid
training to get rid of the "fem" stain. The fems do most of
the physical labor and the generations of males are kept
apart–in fact the idea is that if fathers and sons meet,
they'll kill each other. That's an interesting idea. The plot
involves one pair in which the father wants to go back to the
ways of the Ancients and leave his riches to his son.
The main characters are two young men, sometime lovers, one
an official helper of people ready (or who should be ready) to
die, the other an outlaw who provides "dark dreams" to people
with a hemp product. The third is a fem who is trained in
articulate speech and running. She is clearly going to be
our guide to the next novel.
The world is, as per usual, supposedly destroyed–no "unmen"
(non white races) or brute animals at all. People live,
barely, on various seaweed products. The women cleverly make
foods of their milk as well.
Most of this could have been written yesterday, except that
one of the hated "unmen" groups is long haired "freaks." With
the importance of hemp and the interesting father-son hatred,
it is a reminder of the early seventies.
I liked it, will read the next one, and maybe the much later
pair of books.
Christianity's
American Fate: How Religion Became More Conservative
and Society More Secular by David Hollinger Reviewed by Joe
Chuman
Puffin
Cultural Forum. You can find Chuman's interview with David
Hollinger here.
Political scientists in decades past gave scant attention to
religion. It was considered an archaic phenomenon that was
epiphenomenal to economic and political forces that were the
drivers of policy, whether international maneuvering by
nations or conditions within those nations. Moreover, in the
United States, since at least the 1930s, it was assumed by
intellectuals and academics that religion would steadily fade
away in the wake of the advance of scientific knowledge and as
the population became increasingly educated. Sociologists
found that as education spread and people climbed the economic
ladder, they became less religious. Religion, at its base, was
superstition embraced by the undereducated who were not
society's prime movers. In brief, religion was not a
significant political actor.
History has shown these presumptions to have been
dramatically short-sighted. In the past four decades, religion
has come out of the closet and asserted itself with the power
of the long-repressed. On the international stage, the Islamic
Revolution in Iran of 1979, which was also an assault on
Western values, launched a movement of religious nationalism
that has taken hold around the world. Its influence continues
to be felt in nations such as Turkey, Russia, and India and
throughout swaths of the Muslim world. As such it threatens
democracy and liberalism, and resonates with the footsteps of
fascism.
The movement embracing religious nationalism has its American
expression as well. Since the late nineteen seventies, the
Christian Evangelical subculture, which had been politically
quiescent for half a century, became repoliticized. In the
process, it has dramatically transformed the political
landscape, rendering it far more conservative. It forms the
backbone of the Christian Right. During the administration of
George W. Bush, the movement had hundreds of Congressional
members in its pocket, and Donald Trump would not have become
president without the support of evangelicals and their
allies. The evidence is irrefutable: Long ignored, religion
must now be construed and understood as a powerful political
actor.
This is a subtext of David Hollinger's most recent text,
Christianity's American Fate: How Religion Became More
Conservative and Society More Secular. Hollinger is emeritus
professor of history at the University of California,
Berkeley. He has authored and edited a dozen texts on American
religion and related subjects. I was familiar with, and
admired, Hollinger's work while I studied for my doctorate in
religion at Columbia University. I came upon Christianity's
American Fate, when reading a laudatory review of the work by
Linda Greenhouse, long the Supreme Court reporter for The New
York Times, in a recent issue of the New York Review of Books.
Christianity's American Fate is an important book. Numerous
texts have dealt with how American society has arrived at this
strange and perilous moment. We have become viciously divided
as political adversaries are denounced as enemies and
compromise and dialogue have completely broken down.
Irrationalism flourishes, with 35 percent of Americans and
more than 68 percent of Republicans embracing "The Big Lie."
Conspiracy theories, which in the past were relegated to the
lunatic fringe, have become increasingly normative. The
Republican Party, bereft of any program, remains in the thrall
of Donald Trump, a pathological narcissist and liar, seemingly
totally lacking in empathy and without any interests beyond
augmenting his personal power, ego, and wealth.
There are many complex causes that have brought us to this
state of affairs. David Hollinger's perspective looks at the
contribution of religion, primarily the rise of evangelical
Protestantism, which is almost completely aligned with the
Republican Party and its reactionary politics. It is a stance
built on resentment and total disparagement of any ideas or
programs put forth by the opposing party. As the subtitle of
the book suggests, religion's move to the right, somewhat
ironically, is taking place at a time when American society is
becoming more secular, as increasing numbers of the formerly
faithful are abandoning the churches.
The virtual takeover of the Christian landscape by
evangelicals cannot be understood in a vacuum. As Hollinger
makes clear, it can only be illuminated by situating its
development in the broader context of American Protestantism.
The propelling dynamic has been competition between
evangelicals and so-called mainline, or ecumenical, Protestant
churches, as Hollinger prefers to call them. The latter has
been comprised of the Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist,
Northern Baptist, Congregationalist, Disciples of Christ, and
several smaller denominations. These two major branches of
Protestantism developed almost independently from each other
and appealed to distinct sectors of the Protestant majority,
based in great measure on class, educational level,
temperament, and geographical region.
Hollinger makes the interesting observation that the
conventional assumption that evangelical Christianity
confronts the believer with difficult challenges, whereas
ecumenical churches require less of believers, is false. He
maintains that the opposite pertains, and this conclusion
segues into his prevailing thesis.
According to Hollinger, the ecumenical churches demand an
openness to the complexities of modernity, including an
appreciation for diversity and relations with other
denominations both within the Christian world and beyond it.
They also require a range of social obligations that
evangelicalism has walled itself off from. As with so much of
American history, race and racism is a great divider. Here
Hollinger cites the observation of Randall Balmer (whose book
"Bad Faith" I reviewed in an earlier newsletter) that in
response to the Brown vs. Board of Education decision, which
ended racial segregation in public schools, evangelicals
founded their own private, segregated academies. Under Jimmy
Carter's administration, these private schools had their
tax-exempt status removed. Their subsequent anger caused them
to re-enter the political fray while turning their backs on
Carter, who was a devout born-again Christian. As Hollinger
mentions, it also enabled evangelicals to posture themselves
as victims of an aggressively secular culture despite the
reality of their massive political clout.
In Hollinger's view, the ecumenical denominations, who
throughout most of American history comprised the Protestant
establishment, were in concert with Enlightenment values, were
cosmopolitan in outlook, embraced science, and in many ways
were consonant with the values of the secular world. He also
discusses at length their support of racial equality and their
activism in the civil rights movement. These commitments
cleaved a greater distance from the evangelical subculture,
which created a redoubt from the complexities and racial
outreach that the mainline churches engaged. As Hollinger
notes:
"Evangelicalism created a safe harbor for white people who
wanted to be counted as Christians without having to accept
what ecumenical leaders said were the social obligations
demanded by the gospel, especially the imperative to extend
civil equality to nonwhites."
This observation could not be of greater political
consequence. It directly explains how evangelicals became
tightly identified with the Republican Party, who after the
Civil Rights Act appropriated their "Southern Strategy,
ensuring that it become a bulwark for whites discomforted by
racial integration.
Hollinger notes that Billy Graham, the most popular of
evangelical preachers and personalities, vividly reflected, as
well as propelled, the divide between ecumenical Protestants
and evangelicals. When asked to comment on Martin Luther
King's Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech Graham responded, "Little
white children of Alabama will walk hand in hand with little
Black children only when Christ comes again." So much for
racial and integrationist priorities.
The ecumenical churches reached their high water mark in the
1940s and `50s, when churchgoing was a mark of social probity.
As they moved up the economic ladder, even some evangelicals
joined mainline churches. Its members could pride themselves
on such luminaries as Reinhold Niebuhr and Paul Tillich, and
Protestant leaders were, for example, influential in the
founding of the United Nations and its adoption of the human
rights regime.
However, the 1960s was an inflection point for these
established churches, as it was for many mainstays of American
culture. Having crested, ecumenical churches began to rapidly
lose members, indeed some hemorrhaged badly. Hollinger
explains why. One cause is what we might refer to as a paradox
of liberalism. Hollinger underscores that the ecumenical
churches embraced broadly liberal values. They were early
proponents of the civil rights movement, and in the 1960s were
in the forefront of protesting the war in Vietnam. They
embraced science, respect for social pluralism, and engagement
with civic life and the secular world. With such values
comprising their intellectual foundation, it should not be
surprising that the children of members would decide to not be
affiliated with the churches of their parents. Many left
entirely.
A second cause coheres with the sociological observation
cited above, namely as the educational level of adherents
rose, they abandoned religion altogether and joined the
population of the unaffiliated. A final cause for a decline in
membership was a declining birth rate among those who remained
in the churches.
Statistical losses of these churches are dramatic. Hollinger
notes,
"Former ecumenicals constituted the vast majority of
'nones'... Between 2010 and 2018, the Disciples of Christ
declined by 40 percent. The United Presbyterians lost 40
percent between 2009 and 2020. Lutherans lost 22 percent
between 2010 and 2019. The Dutch Reformed...lost 45 percent
between 2000 and 2020. The Episcopalians lost 29 percent
between 2002 and 2019." The affiliated Jewish population, of
course much smaller, experienced analogous losses, as did
Roman Catholicism. Catholics became ex-Catholics. Protestants
became post-Protestants. Hence, the United States, which has
had the most religious population in the industrialized West,
has become increasingly secular. Some sociologists speculate
that the United States is at long last following Western
Europe, which is arguably a post-religious society.
Hollinger includes two others factors that have led to the
increasing secularization of American society. One has been
the influence of America's Jewish population. Though never
more than 3.5 percent of the population (today through
assimilation and intermarriage it is below two percent) the
influence of America's Jews has been disproportionately great.
Prior to the influx of millions of Jewish immigrants between
1881 and 1924, the United States was readily identified as a
"Christian nation." The Jewish presence and contribution to
society changed that. Many arrivals from Eastern Europe were
themselves secular, and many were predominant intellectuals.
Jews excelled in positions of leadership in law and medicine,
academia, literature, the arts, Hollywood, and in science.
Think J. Robert Oppenheimer, I.I. Rabi and Albert Einstein,
among other luminaries. The social work and psychotherapy
fields (following Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis)
were greatly peopled by Jews, who for many replaced the church
pastor in providing emotional support and counseling.
Hollinger provides interesting insight as to how the
philosophical professorate, William James and Josiah Royce
being the most influential, implicitly carried forth
Protestant values. After World War II, antisemitic barriers
were removed the place of Jews in philosophy departments
rapidly rose, so that by the 1960s one in five members of the
leading philosophy departments was a Jew. Also influential was
the role of Jews in the second wave feminist movement, whose
leadership was almost entirely comprised of Jews, from Bella
Abzug to Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem.
Jewish attorneys also spearheaded legal cases promoting the
separation of church and state. They were active in such
organizations as the American Jewish Committee and the
American Civil Liberties Union which were at the forefront of
pushing ahead the cause. I personally recall conferring with
Leo Pfeffer, a prominent attorney who held to lead the
separationist legal movement.
Through the influence of Jews, Anglo-Protestant cultural
hegemony noticeably declined and America shifted from being a
Christian nation to becoming "Judeo-Christian." Notable was
the 1955 book by sociologist Will Herberg,
Protestant-Catholic-Jew, proffering that Catholics and Jews
were equal partners in defining an understanding of American
society.
A second secularizing influence, which was frankly new to me,
was Hollinger's discussion of international missionary
activity carried on by the ecumenical Protestant churches.
This initiative was vast and its influence in altering the
domestic landscape was far-reaching. While the purport of
missionary work was to convert others to Christianity, many
missionaries returned with a newfound respect for the
integrity, sophistication, and wisdom of those whom they
encountered overseas. The authenticity of their religious
cultures had profound effects. Those effects would lead
ecumenical Protestants to question the importance of their own
denominationalism. In time, ecumenical Protestants acceded to
a growing cosmopolitanism and greater commitment to the
universal needs of humankind that transcended parochial and
local interests. It gave rise to a pluralist appreciation that
added to the increased secularization of society at large.
Evangelicals would have none of this, and in time filled the
missionary space from which the ecumenical churches had
withdrawn.
David Hollinger does not provide a solution to the state of
affairs that he has so amply analyzed. But he is a powerful
witness to what he refers to as a "remarkable paradox," namely
that America is "an increasing secular society..saddled with
an increasingly religious politics."
An aspect of contemporary American secularism, spearheaded by
younger generations, is that it is generally more progressive
than the politics of their elders. Hollinger notes that even
the children of evangelicals are becoming disaffected from the
churches of their parents. They are tired of the doctrinal
rigidity and politics obsessed with a narrow range of issues
laced with contempt for gays, and women's equality.
Perhaps this is where the long-range future lies. As the
older generations depart, they will be replaced by a more
benign politics that conforms to a society that is inexorably
becoming more diverse and pluralistic, in which equality and
mutual respect will become fundamental to our very survival.
Demographics and time may have the last word.
READERS
RESPOND TO THE LAST ISSUE--including a lot of praise for
Elizabeth Strout!
Carole Rosenthal: Strout is a
calming narrative voice in these wobbly world times because
Lucy Barton is straightforward and charmingly so, as well as
curious. Lucy displays direct firm common sense in her
occasionally surprised examination of her own reactions. My
favorite of those LB books is Oh, William! Very
loving, and complicated in a common sense way. Best to read
all of the Lucy books. I prefer Strout's Lucy Barton books to
the also quite excellent Olive Kitteridge novels. Lucy is
gentler, Olive sharp.
Dennis Cavanagh says: Strout
is my favorite novelist. What I enjoy is the very harsh
exterior of her characters that underneath is actually a
very caring person in a stoic New Englander sort of way. An
example is Olive Kitteridge, a character in [the] novel of
the same name. Olive Kitteridge criticizes her husband for
being too nice to everyone. Yet, she goes out of her way to
prevent someone from attempting suicide. Perhaps due to my
being named after my dad's house in Litchfield Maine (The
Captain Dennis House), I am partial to New England
characters that are caring and sensitive but don't want to
show that part of themselves because it would make them seem
weak to the outside world. Yet, underneath that rough
exterior, they do care a great deal.
Eddy Pendarvis writes to say
she is a huge fan of Thomas Hardy. Here are her favorites of
his novels.. She says, "These
are in order from love to like. The last two are pretty
far down from the other two groups, as my memory serves
anyway."
Tess of the D'Urbervilles
Jude the Obscure
The Woodlanders
Return of the Native
The Mayor of Casterbridge
A Laodicean
Two on a Tower
Under the Greenwood Tree
The Well-Beloved
A Pair of Blue Eyes
Desperate Remedies
The Hand of Ethleberta
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Lit
Hub strikes again: 13 movies better than the books they
are based on.
Ed
Davis's always-interesting list of events in
Yellow Springs, Ohio area.
New Book by Leora
Skolkin-Smith....
Kelly Watt's
poetry chapbook, The Weeping Degree, was a
finalist in the San Miguel de Allende chapbook contest
sponsored by @poetrymesa and Wild Rising Press!
Suzanne McConnell's book of
writing advice from and exercises based on Kurt Vonnegut's
work is available in four languages already (English,
Spanish, Russian, and Japanese) with Polish, Catalan, and
Chinese coming soon!
Jim Minick's Without Warning: The
Tornado of Udall, Kansas comes out in May from the
University of Nebraska Press, but you may pre-order
here.
David Laskin author of THE CHILDREN’S BLIZZARD and THE
FAMILYwrote : WITHOUT WARNING is a ddpage-turning
disaster narrative in the tradition of THE PERFECT STORM and
ISAAC’S STORM: spare, vivid, suspenseful, meticulously
researched, utterly harrowing. But the havoc an F5 tornado
wrecked on this quintessential Kansas small town in the
spring of 1955 is only part of the story here. By taking
the arc all the way from the calm before the storm to the
months-long labor of rebuilding and reanimating, Jim Minick
has brought an entire community lovingly to life. At heart,
this is a book about how what’s best about our country
confronts and overcomes the worst of our weather.
Jim Minick is the
author or editor of seven books, including the award-winning Fire
Is Your Water and The Blueberry Years: A Memoir of
Farm and Family. His work has appeared in many
publications, including the New York Times, Poets &
Writers, Tampa Review, Shenandoah, Orion, Oxford American, and The
Sun. His newest book is Without Warning: The
Tornado of Udall, Kansas, a nonfiction work forthcoming
from University of Nebraska Press in 2023.
Coming in May, Tamp, Poems by Denton Loving
East Tennessee poet Denton Loving's second
collection centers on the bond that endures between father
and son, even after death. In plainspoken poetry that is
often narrative in form, the writer's personal experiences
living on an inherited cattle farm and tending to an aging
orchard are detailed. Loving explores and celebrates the
physical and psychological landscapes of his native
Appalachia--its mountains and valleys, its flora and
fauna--with language that is lyrical and bursting with
sudden shocks of emotional power. These are poems that serve
as witness to the natural world, blurred with history and
mythology to examine the eternal father-son paradigm.
Readers will be reminded why Ron Rash has said that "Denton
Loving has the talent to convey what he has seen that we too
might see, and feel, and know deeply."
GOOD READING
& LISTENING ONLINE
Do you live in New York City? Just interested in how
services are really delivered to people? Check out Harvey
Robins's piece evaluating Mayor
Adams' priorities and management style.
New at A Journal of Practical Writing : Eddy
Pendarvis on Free
Indirect Discourse.
Hannah Brown's latest
Oren story "Hawaii and Mexico," organized around a
conversation with her charming adult autistic son, appears in Lilith. Don't miss it!
New Review of Eddy Pendarvis's book on women and ballet in Appalachia,
click here.
Lynne Squires' small, powerful essay on shoes of the
Holocaust "So Many Shoes.
Take a look at Joe Chuman's post on Eating Animals and his piece on visiting
the Holocaust Museuma in Washington, D.C. I was
especially taken with what he wrote most recently on Identity
Politics and the present state of America. He says,
among much else: "My concern is that identity politics diverts
from the overarching sources of economic oppression that
require our militant protest," and then, later in the essay,
"Reason is a weak force compared with the power of group
cohesion."
New Issue
of Innisfree! Poems by Bruce
Bennett, Zoë Blaylock, Grace Cavalieri and Geoffrey Himes,
Helen Chinitz, Ginny Lowe Connors, Nicole Farmer, Robert
Gibb, Melanie McCabe, Abbie Mulvihill, Jean Nordhaus on
Matthew Thorburn, Allan Peterson, Roger Pfingston, David
Thoreen, John Tustin, Dick Westheimer, Mark F. Wiegan,
Terence Winch, and Anne Harding Woodworth on Terence Winch.
NOTES
ESPECIALLY FOR WRITERS
Lewis Brett Smiler writes to say, "I
submitted my story 'The Sculptor' to a new magazine called Ghoulish
Tales. Ghoulish Tales opened for submissions on Dec.
17, 2022, and closed on Feb. 15, 2023. They announced that
they had received exactly 1,106 submissions. I believe this is
the first time I've ever seen a publishing outlet give out
this information."
From Jane Friedman: a
downloadable data base of 1,000 "best" literary
journals.
New at A Journal of Practical Writing : Eddy Pendarvis on Free
Indirect Discourse.
.
Meredith
Sue Willis's
Books for Readers # 227
May 16, 2023
For functioning links and best
appearance,
read this newsletter in its permanent location.
Fritz Eichenberg wood cuts for Jane Eyre: Lowood
Schoo; Jane meets Mr. Rochester; Mr. R. tamed.
For writers: Danny
Williams, editor extraordinaire, offers us a sample of
some of his concerns and what his editing looks like. It's a .docx file here. Read the first part, in
particular, about tenses.
Birgit Matzerath is a
well-known pianist and piano teacher who also has written
a book More
Than the World in Black and White about her
life (see
our review here). She keeps a lively, insightful
blog, and the current
blog post should be of interest to all creative workers.
It compares preparing The Well-Tempered Clavier for performance with packing for a forced move from one
apartment to another: both of which she recently had to
do-- simultaneously.
Now open for registration! The West
Virginia Writers Conference, Cedar Lakes Conference
Center, Ripley, West Virginia, June 9- 11, 2023. To see
workshops and presenters, scroll down to "Spring
Conference 2023
Poetry: Matt Hart, Donald Revell, Jeff Knorr, Jeff Gundy, Moriah
Hampton, Claire Keyes, Lisa Bellamy, Stephen Mead, Michael
Lauchlan, Howie Good, Barry Seiler, Michael Hettich,
Stephen Gibson, Liana Kapelke-Dale, Claire Scott, Sharon
Whitehill, Nancy Smiler, Tim Staley, J.R. Solonche,
Phillip Sterling, Daniel A. Rabuzzi, Christopher
Rubio-Goldsmith, Heikki Huotari, and Jane Simpson.
Prose:
Brian Michael Barbeito, Brian J. Buchanan, Conor Hogan,
Eleanor Lerman, and Connie Draving Malko.
My brother-in-law David
Weinberger, who writes about knowledge and
the web, sent me this link to an article in Salmagundi: Rick
Moody interviews ChatbGPT. In the interview, Moody
questions the chatbot about modernism and the "traditional"
nineteenth century novel. I recommend taking a look at it. I
responded that I thought it starts out pretty well, if
dull--that is to say, it seemed like an encyclopedia entry,
but the longer it goes on, the more it begins to sound like a
desperate undergraduate writing an exam. The comments on
individual novels were painfully--shall I say--derivative? It
sounded less derivative when it talked about literary theory,
but that may be because I know novels a lot better than I know
literary theory.
David
responded with some background notes. "These chatbots," David
writes, "have what one might call a default bland voice, which
makes them sound smug and male. A lot of bot'splaining going
on. The commentary is literally derivative, but not of any
specific work. [Note: man'splaining ironically ahead. Skip if
you already have an idea about how these bots work.] Rather
it's derivative of billions of pages of source material
dissolved into words, phrases, and word-parts that are then
computed into their statistical likelihoods of following one
another. And because it's building its comments out of
statistical probabilities of how words go together based on
how words have gone together, the ideas tend to be very middle
of the road, which works out to being western and white.
"You can, however, tell it to reply as a feminist, as a
Ugandan, as Jordan Peterson, or what you will, and it will do
the best it can to comply.
"Some people are talking about chatAI as bullshitters, but I
don't think that that's exactly the right word if we think
bullshitters know when they're bullshitting. These systems
literally have zero idea of the connection of words to reality
or truth. So, if you ask them for a source for what they just
said, they will blithely make one up, not knowing they are
doing so...exactly as they are making up prose with no way of
knowing if what they're saying is true.
"It's been programmed to apologize, and also to deflect
'personal' questions about it by telling us it's just a
computer program."
In this Issue
REVIEWS
This list is alphabetical by book author
(not reviewer).
They are by MSW unless otherwise noted.
Another
World: Ballet Lessons from Appalachia by Edwina
Pendarvis
This is a book like no other I have ever read with its study
of women and ballet--primarily in Kentucky and West Virginia.
Pendarvis, Professor Emeritus at Marshall University in
Huntington, West Virginia, includes rich data from surveys and
interviews of women
who took ballet as children in the Appalachian region. She
organizes the book around a handful of themes and conclusions,
but also makes room for short biographies of roughly two dozen
Appalachian women who studied ballet, mostly in the twentieth
century. The biographies are a wonderful way to learn about
the kind of people who are the pillars of our communities:
working, studying, achieving, parenting. They include several
races and ethnic groups, and they are women who grew up nearly
poor and those who were comfortably affluent.
Pendarvis herself was one of the girls who studied ballet,
and her sister Annette Burgess studied as a young woman at the
famous School of American Ballet (SAB) in New York City and
then made a career as a dancer and as arts administrator.
Burgess was not the only one of these Appalachian dance
students to make a career in dance. Several of the women were
and are professional performers and/or teachers of dance. Some
of them own their own schools of dance.
Another delightful element of the book is a wealth of black
and white photos provided by the dancers. Some of the photos
are professional dance images, and some are family snapshots
of little girls in tutus and ballet positions. The family
photos always have expressions of bliss of their scrubbed
young faces. They seem transported by the experience of dance.
The themes Pendarvis emphasizes grow out of the dancers'
responses to her interviews. One is the apprehension of beauty
in and through dance. Second is mastering physical and
artistic skills and challenges--especially important for those
who grew up before Title IX, when sports did not always
welcome American girls. The very opportunity of expending
energy in a way that was acceptable--structured and beautiful,
but always challenging-- was itself important.
Finally, dance was a link with the women and their own
mothers, who often sought out the classes for them and paid
for them, and
even made the costumes. Pendarvis relates these themes to the
landscape and Appalachian folkways of women supporting each
other and creating community. She writes In Chapter 11, "The
experiences described by Appalachian women who studied ballet
in the twentieth century suggest that ballet's relevance to
their lives had much to do with their childhood ideas of
beauty and the kinds of challenges they found worthwhile and
pleasurable. Those ideals reflected their family life;
community; the landscape with its contours, seasons, flora,
and fauna; and the world as portrayed in movies, television,
books, and magazines. In addition to offering access to beauty
and accomplishment, ballet was meaningful in that lessons and
performances engaged them in a unique community composed
mostly of girls and women, a community that offered
camaraderie they enjoyed and, in some cases, treasured."
This is. then, a book about empowerment. Shy girls discovered
the ability to take the stage; some learned to be more
connected to the world beyond their small coal mining towns.
Some of the women are and were, of course, feminists, but
others would not think of themselves that way. Nor was ballet
transformative for every girl: Pendarvis, for example, gave up
lessons while her sister went on. But all of her interviewees
saw themselves as changed by their experience with ballet. The
preponderance of their memories are of camaraderie, positive
body images, and expanding horizons.
Fences by Cheryl
Denise
Cheryl Denise's world is at once full of rural pleasures and
challenges like difficult tenants and taking care of
recalcitrant sheep. She writes in a clean, apparently direct
style, but underlying the family narratives and bright metaphors are
sophisticated emotional depths. The poems are often narrative
and autobiographical, as in "Calling In Sick," in which the
speaker doesn't go to work because "I can't take another day
without poetry." The poem ends with "I can hear the
metaphors/knocking at the door."
I especially love her narrative poems from her Mennonite
childhood, and her continuing but low-key, even
self-deprecating, but strong commitment and faith. One
wonderful example is called "The First Gay Wedding in the
Godshall Family," which is about the simple life and Mennonite
history as well as about a family facing a new reality.
There is also a group of deeply personal poems about fear and
depression including "Panic Attack," in which her husband
wants to "fix" her as if " I am an engine/or leaky faucet."
One called "Mostly I Hate My Mind" has the wonderful lines "I
loathe confident women who look like Christmas/but never
unwrap...."
There are poems about marriage, and about early love, and
about skiing a 54m cross country celebration of the men who
saved an infant Norwegian prince in 1206. She has poems about
her realistic, fraught, but also funny poems about her
relationship with sheep ("...They baaa/ as if their mouths are
full of marbles,").
The poems always invite you in with a clear situation or a
welcoming familiar line, and then before you know it you are
caught up in her world, where there is farming and service and
family and frustration--and subtle redemption through
language.
Dora/Lora by
Larissa Shmailo
I've read a number of Larissa Shmailo's works (see my review
of SlyBang here), and have always been
impressed by her ability to use sometimes extreme experiments
in language
and story-telling to moving effect–she never merely shows off
with her pyrotechnics, but always illuminates some dark corner
of human experience. This collection, on the other hand, has
largely straightforward verses, mostly with relatively plain
language.The central poem "Dora/Lora" is a long narrative that
uses a loose, roughly iambic pentameter line to narrate family
history: how her parents and other family members in Ukraine
survived under the Soviets in the nineteen thirties, and then
under alternate waves of Soviets and Germans during the Second
World War. One question she is exploring is what did her
parents have to do to survive? They were in work camps, worked
as translators and laborers. Clearly they were working for the
Nazis in some fashion– but how much? Were they really
collaborators? What about the Jews murdered in some of the
same camps where they were? She asks, "Is
complicity possible without choice?"
And even while suspecting the worst, she clings to her
mother's assertion that she once opened a gate for a
resistance fighter. The story line of this long narrative poem
is clear, but the events and suffering and betrayals and
non-choices are complex and cloudy. Shmailo pulls us through
wrenching experiences with her. What really happened? Was
whatever they did worth it becuase of the middle class life in
the United States that they achieved for their children? Can
you love a kapo? Is it possible even to guess what was done
to them--and what they might have done? This is harrowing
stuff:
There are other excellent poems in the collection as well: a
couple that start with Anna Karenina; a terrific "Fall of
Icarus;" a "Personal Theology" with these wonderful lines:
Uncomfortable everywhere in life, like a stray cur,
homeless in your soul, you wait like a dog to be walked.
And yet, you are a sunflower, open, spiral, connected by
mysterious mathematics to the stars, as far as Andromeda
(p. 23)
Larissa Shmailo, Dora/Lora (New Orleans: Unlikely Books, New Orleans, 2023) 86.
Charming
Billy by Alice McDermott
This is a stunningly gorgeous novel. It is at least
superficially about Billy Lynch a drunk who is much loved by
everyone. He has a meticulously caring wife and friends, and a
great sorrow, the so-called "Irish girl" who he saved a lot of
money to bring over to the States to marry. He heart broken
when his his best friend Dennis (father of the narrator) tells
him the girl he loves is dead.
This is the crucial plot point that is explained early, and
becomes an important turning point later in the story.
So there's a story line, and a main character, and a
not-quite peripheral narrator, but, in fact, it is a group
portrait. The first chapter, which establishes this, is worth
the price of admission alone. Billy Lynch's family and friends
gather for a post-funeral meal in a little restaurant chosen
by Billy's widow, and the voices are multiple in many
registers, getting the basic story in front of us, interacting
with each other, remembering each other as children and youth,
creating a milieu. I wondered if and how McDermott could top
that, all the voices, and she doesn't exactly top it, but she
does a different thing, which is to let all those people
reappear both as texture of the fabric of the world and also
with parts to play in Billy's sad story and their own stories.
We discover gradually that the narrator's father has been in
many ways at the center of the action.
Mad Dog by Kelly
Watt
This appears at first to be a mix of beautifully rendered
landscape and life in an apple-growing region of Ontario. The
main character is Sheryl, a fourteen year old girl having a
summer of boredom and self-awareness and burgeoning
sexuality–but also strange dreams
and visions, that we gradually realize may have actually
happened. For a long time appealing realism and interesting
characters prevail, as the narrator's uncle Fergus picks up a
handsome young hitchhiker, but the atmosphere is increasingly
fraught and the realism begins to tremble with bad things just
under the surface. It is, in the end, a well-rendered horror
novel without any supernatural trappings.
Uncle Fergus, whose trajectory, along with Sheryl growing
up, is the heart of the story, is attractive, insightful, and
creative. He has a past as a depressive who can't hold a job,
but has managed to become a newly minted pharmacist, only he
is also a drug dealer–and is gradually revealed to be one of
those terrible charismatic leaders along the lines of Jim
Jones and David Koresh who fascinate and destroy. This is
revealed to us very gradually by Sheryl, in whose point of
view we are deeply embedded.
One of the most brilliant accomplishments of this novel is
that Sheryl, in spite of the horrors and weirdness, is a
thoroughly real barely-teenaged girl. She reads Nancy Drew
mysteries that belonged to her disappeared mother and
occasionally spies on the adults around her and their
activities (you aren't supposed to talk about what happens in
the night world during the day). She feeds the rabbits and the
large vicious white mongrel whose hind legs don't work.
At the same time, she is part of certain sinister and
terrifying rituals. All the time, she is a normal, slightly
petulant fourteen year old who doesn't quite know if she wants
to have sex with the slightly older James Dean lookalike
hitchhiker or to hang out with her younger cousin and bike
into town to spy on an old schizophrenic. Would Fergus's
brothers and wife have followed him with such unquestioning
enthusiasm? The search for an answer is part of the project of
the novel: why do we get caught up irrationality? Who gets
away from it, and who doesn't?
A
Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
This was just delightful: totally unexpected, too. It was
written in the very early 1900's, and Frances Hodgson Burnett
was British but lived often in the U.S. She had a couple of
husbands, sons, wrote Little Lord Fauntelroy and The Secret Garden. A professional writer who found her
niche writing for children.
This book is totally melodramatic and moderately racist in
its depiction of a faithful South Asian servant, Ram Dass, who
is at least clever, athletic and smart. He runs around
salaaming and being described as showing his "black"face). So
if you can get around that, you get the story is of a rich
girl sent away to school from her father British in India to
London. Then the beloved, indulgent father dies after
investing in diamond mines with an importunate friend and
losing all his money. Immediately, the evil school mistress
turns Sara from cosseted favorite student into an unpaid
teacher of French AND an errand girl, who is pretty much
starved and frozen.
The ending is all sappy and of course her wealth is returned
and she helps the other disdained girls and gets a new father
figure.
What makes it delightful is the energy of the story telling
of course and details of food and objects, but also, above
all, that Sara is the same person rich or poor. She makes up
tales to entertain the other children, she is interested in
other people and everything else, reading everything she can
get her hands on, and her behavior is controlled when she is
angry rather than angelic. She explicitly imagines killing
evil Miss Minchin, and then why she would do better to manage
her impulses. She is definitely good and heroic, but also very
thoughtful and analytic in a way appropriate for a child.
SHORT TAKES and SECOND LOOKS
LaBrava by
Elmore Leonard
I almost always enjoying being in Elmore Leonard's world
where the bad guys tend to be either monumentally stupid (and
hilarious) or else lovable–occasionally both, and the good
guys have more than a touch of outlaw in them. After all,
Leonard was a writer of Westerns first, primarily for
financial reasons, and he switched his talents to crime
fiction when people stopped buying Westerns. The genre never
got in the way of him enjoying his project (see
Dennis Lehane's idea of what that project is).
LaBrava is set in Miami, and the mostly-hero is Joe
Labrava, a photographer and ex-secret service agent, among
other things. He gets in the way of a plan for a
blackmail-with-threatened-murder caper that centers on a
former almost-movie star, a "boat lifter" from prison in Cuba
who likes to do go-go dancing in a leopard skin patterned
undies, and a few other colorful individuals. It's the
dialgue, as usual, that carries the story, plus Leonard's
affection for his players.
Take a look at these excellent pieces about him and his work
plus his ever entertaining advice on how to write:
The
Motherlines by Suzy McKee Charnas
There are lots of really interesting ideas here in Charnas's
all-female societies in her post-apocalyptic world. The
critique is that she stops too soon, doesn't elaborate as much
as she might. Alldeera a grows up in this, has a baby among
the Horse women (derisively called Mares by the other main
group, the fems). They reproduce using some fuzzy
method from ancient laboratories, but it requires semen from a
stallion, and this is handled with great interest. Essentially
the Horse Women are call lones of their "motherline--" each
line looking pretty identical. I'm not quite sure why the
stallions are needed, but that's where it's fuzzy.
Alldera's baby, of course, was the result of intercourse with
a human male, a rape, if you follow the thinking that says any
sex between a master and a slave is rape. Meanwhile, there is
a colony of quarreling Free Fems, and no one coming over the
desert anymore from the Holdfast. And no men in the present
story at all.
Charnas does a good good with the quarreling and dysfunction
of te fems, who are having no babies at all. They fantasize
endlessly about going back to the Holdfast and taking it over,
killing whatever men are left, saving the fems. Alldera is
torn between her two groups, grows older to become a leader.
Her daughter is growing up mostly as a Horse Woman.
There is some wonderful speculation about social forms and
cultural norms, and it's left wide open about a return to the
holdfast.
I intend to read the two much later books, and this one
didn't feel dated at all (all that horse love is wonderfully
well done) but I'm not satisfied–I don't quite know why,
except for that not quite going far enough.
The Bronze King by Suzy McKee Charnas
Charnas in a different mood: a young adult novel, maybe even
young young adult, set in New York City with lots of fun
scenes in Central Park and Upper West Side apartments (and one
on Park Avenue) plus good stuff in the subways. The narrator
Tina makes friends with a sorcerer from who appears as a
busker-violinist in a rust colored corduroy suit, and with a
tortured teen ager from a wealthy muiscal family, and of
course their project is to save the world from the Kraken and
its mini-thug helpers who mug the good guys and lurk in the
subways. Good clean fun Saves the World!
The
New York Times obituary of Suzy McKee Charnas has a lot of information
about her work.
City of Bones by Michael Connelly
My records say this is my third reading, but it feels so
familiar it seems like four. Or more. At any rate, it's a
favorite: in the sweet spot of Connelley's Bosch books. Bosch
is still a detective even though he decides rather at the end
that h e's going to quit. It's third person limited all to
Bosch, by far the best way Connelly came up with for telling
the Bosch stories. It has an authentic intensity of feelings
for the victims, particularly a kid who was murdered years ago
after lifelong physical abuse. There are the usual miserable
low lifes including scenes in a trailer park, a little bit of
wealth dripping around, walk-ons by Irving and Kiz. Jerry
Edgar doing his thing. A killer in plain sight from early on,
a doomed love affair for Bosch. Lots of Los Angeles. What more
could I ask?
Down the
River Unto the Sea by Walter Mosley
There's a new Walter Mosley sleuth, Joe King Oliver,or some
variation on that, ex-cop, former hound-dog, traumatized by
Rikers and suffering with his own trauma for ten years. An
angry ex-wife, a beloved teen daughter. Questionable friends,
good friends, including one handy sociopath–it's all pretty
familiar if you read a lot of Mosley--the the wounded warrior
protagonist, the psycho friend (remember Mouse from the Easy
Rawlins books?). And me? I'm a sucker for it all. The New York
setting, the race excursions, always strongly done and
complicated. And I don't even mind paying outrageous money for
a license to read his work from his Big Five publisher because
I like his politics and his world outlook.
READERS
RESPOND
Ernie Brill says, "LOVE your
review of Richard Wright one of my very special writers,
especially for Uncle Tom’ s Children, one of
my favorite books of all time that I fought to bring into the
ninth grade English curriculum at Northampton High School. I
can write you more about it in terms of the fantastic projects
my students did with the many options I gave them, ie write a
pov 'story section from Silas ( the husband of the raped woman
in 'Long Black Song'), write a POV of Sue’s son’s white
girlfriend, for musical inclined students, - you have been
hired to do the soundtrack for a movie of 'Uncle Tom’s
Children'--what music will you choose for the best 'fit.' You
are hired to create a heaven banquet for all the heroic
characters in Uncle Tom's Children. Research
African American 'soul food' and prepare a menu. For
historians, research some of the major floods in the nineteen
twenties and nineteen thirties."
An
Exchange about Jane Eyre between MSW and Belinda
Anderson (see the audio workshop Belinda is giving this summer):
B.A.: What is your take on Jane Eyre?
I seem to recall in my youth thinking it a romantic novel.
Some contemporary reviews call it a feminist novel. But after
finishing it again recently, I was dismayed by the ending that
JSTOR Daily describes in an article called "Sorry but Jane
Eyre Isn't the Romance You Want it to Be" as "Jane's
seeming surrender—her willingness to re-enter a dysfunctional,
if not abusive, relationship. [This] infuriates scholars, too,
especially those immersed in feminist theory." The article
discusses how differently the novel has been viewed over the
years. "'In the 1840s, Jane's love for herself was so
subversive it bordered on revolution. In 2019, her love of
Rochester is so shocking it borders on treason."
MSW:Those are great quotations, Belinda. I
have always been a huge fan of Jane Eyre, starting
when I was thirteen. When I was in college, people talked
about how Jane would only take Mr. R. back when he was a
widower, of course, but also when he was blind and broken, so
she was in charge--I think it really is proto-feminist,
anyhow, but the most recent time I read it, back in 2015, I
was struck by what a jerk Mr. R was--a spoiled brat who did
very nasty practical jokes as well as not being honest with J.
My favorite parts were always the parts about Jane's
childhood. We had a set of Jane Eyre and Emily
Brontë's Wuthering Heights with terrific woodcuts by
Fritz Eichenberg. Here's
what I wrote in 2015, the last time I read it.
B.A. Here's a bit of synchronicity. I've
been reading Edna Ferber's Buttered Side Down, a
collection of short stories published a century ago. Jane
Eyre shows up in her story, "The Homely Heroine." She
starts off with, "There never has been a really ugly heroine
in fiction." Then she continues with Jane as her primary
example "There's the case of Jane Eyre, too. She is
constantly described as plain and mouse-like, but there are
covert hints as to her gray eyes and slender figure and clear
skin, and we have a sneaking notion that she wasn't such a
fright after all. This is from the short story "The Homely
Heroine," by Edna Ferber, in her collection Buttered Side
Down.
GOOD READING
& LISTENING ONLINE
Diane Simmons' excellent essay in Body "An
Old Portrait in a Dark Closet" about a trip to south
Georgia to explore her family roots.
What is Upmarket Fiction, as compared to
Literary Fiction and Commercial Fiction? Excellent
explanation from Carly Watters here. The short answer is
it is great for book clubs.
Phyllis Moore suggests a
list of Essential Historical Novels from Abebooks.com.
Take a look at Valerie Nieman's blog post about a year of
promoting her small press novel, In
the Lonely Backwater. It's an excellent story of
contemporary book promotion--with ideas and hints that may be
useful to all of us writers. My
review of the book is here.
Do you live in New York City? Interested in how services are
really delivered to people? Check out Harvey Robins's piece
evaluating Mayor
Adams' priorities and management style.
New at A Journal of Practical Writing : Eddy
Pendarvis on Free
Indirect Discourse.
Hannah Brown's latest
Oren story "Hawaii and Mexico," organized around a
conversation with her charming adult autistic son, appears in Lilith. Don't miss it!
Lynne Squires' small, powerful essay on shoes of the
Holocaust "So Many Shoes.
ESPECIALLY
FOR WRITERS
Danny Williams, editor extraordinaire,
offers us a sample of some of his editing. Read the first
part, in particular, about tenses. . It's a .docx file here.
Valerie Nieman, author of In the
Lonely Backwater (see
our review here)has great ideas for publicizing her
books, which, my dears, is something we all have to do these
days. Take
a look at her book's birthday offer here.
Dorian Gossy writes about publicizing her
new book of short stories, The House on Figueroa at
a library reading:: " I read the title story yesterday at a
library reading & liked how it sounded. The audience of 12
seemed to like it, too! The 2 readings I've done have had an
'open mic' afterward, & apparently this is how a lot of
readings are going these days. There's an intimacy there in
the room that you don't get when it's just you performing.I
think the format may incite more interest in the featured
reader & her or his book....the town-hall form is a good
populist one overall. Got takers of all my books, anyway.
Donated proceeds to the library, which I think may have
inclined folks to buy them even more.
"
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Belinda
Anderson's "The Plot Thickens" conference call workshop begins
June 8 through New River Community and Technical College.
"Readers love trying to figure out what's happening and what's
about to happen," Anderson said. "This course focuses on the
element of plot in relation to character and setting. Knowing
how to compellingly present a course of events is important in
both fiction and nonfiction." The class is designed both for
experienced and beginning writers.
Starting June 8, 2023, "The Plot Thickens" will meet for
three weeks on Thursdays at 10 a.m. This is an audio-only
course, offered for convenience and available by phone or
internet. Students have attended from as far away as Montana
as well as the college's geographical service area in West
Virginia. Plot is an important ingredient in Anderson's own
writing, including both fiction and nonfiction. "Mystery
builds upon mystery in this engaging tale," author and
publisher Cat Pleska wrote about one of Anderson's books.
"It's a thinking person's wild ride."
The registration deadline is May 18. For further information,
please contact Gloria Kincaid (304-793-6101,
gkincaid@newriver.edu).
Burt
Kimmelman's new poems in Steeple at Sunrise continue his exploration of syllabic forms. The book's
first section contains individual poems written in recent
years, each standing on its own as a unique experience.
"Plague Calendar," which follows, consists of especially
brief and understated poems presented in the order of their
inception. They subtly chronicle an individual's
psychological endurance over the course of the COVID-19
pandemic. Together, person and landscape reveal a
transformation in recent time, an individual's experience of
daily life.
Silent Letter, poems by Gail Hanlon from Cornerstone
Press . “Gail
Hanlon’s masterful, uneasy mixture of ghostly epistles,
imagistic memoir, and involute but plainspoken metaphysics
sketch a quiet wilderness of self, a grief-land of
beautiful questing and questioning. ” —Gregory
Lawless, author of Dreamburgh, Pennsylvania .
Kelly Watt's poetry chapbook, The Weeping Degree, was a finalist in the San Miguel
de Allende chapbook contest sponsored by @poetrymesa and Wild
Rising Press!
Suzanne McConnell's book of
writing advice from and exercises based on Kurt Vonnegut's
work is available in four languages already (English, Spanish,
Russian, and Japanese) with Polish, Catalan, and Chinese
coming soon!
Jim Minick's Without
Warning: The Tornado of Udall, Kansas just came out
from the University of Nebraska Press. David Laskin author of
THE CHILDREN’S BLIZZARD and THE FAMILY wrote : "WITHOUT
WARNING is a ddpage-turning disaster narrative in the
tradition of THE PERFECT STORM and ISAAC’S STORM: spare,
vivid, suspenseful, meticulously researched, utterly
harrowing. But the havoc an F5 tornado wrecked on this
quintessential Kansas small town in the spring of 1955 is only
part of the story here. By taking the arc all the way from
the calm before the storm to the months-long labor of
rebuilding and reanimating, Jim Minick has brought an entire
community lovingly to life. At heart, this is a book about how
what’s best about our country confronts and overcomes the
worst of our weather."
See
our review here.
Just Out: Tamp, Poems by Denton Loving
East Tennessee poet Denton Loving's second
collection centers on the bond that endures between father
and son, even after death. In plainspoken poetry that is
often narrative in form, the writer's personal experiences
living on an inherited cattle farm and tending to an aging
orchard are detailed. Loving explores and celebrates the
physical and psychological landscapes of his native
Appalachia--its mountains and valleys, its flora and
fauna--with language that is lyrical and bursting with
sudden shocks of emotional power. These are poems that serve
as witness to the natural world, blurred with history and
mythology to examine the eternal father-son paradigm.
Readers will be reminded why Ron Rash has said that "Denton
Loving has the talent to convey what he has seen that we too
might see, and feel, and know deeply."
Meredith
Sue Willis's
Books for Readers # 228
July 17, 2023
For functioning links and
best appearance,
read this newsletter in its permanent location.
Michelle Zauner Honorée Fanonne Jeffers
Valérie
Perrin Jesmyn Ward
In This Issue:
-
Interesting
scholarly article by Nichole Nelson,
Ph.D., called "Fractures within Fair Housing: The Battle
for the Memory and Legacy of the Long Fair Housing
Movement" about that includes interviews from South Orange
and Maplewood, NJ.
-
-
Lynne Squires' small, powerful essay on
shoes of the Holocaust "So Many Shoes
-
REVIEWS
This list is alphabetical by book
author (not reviewer).
They are written by MSW unless otherwise noted.
Let me introduce this issue by thanking the
people who have been sharing reviews that enrich this online
newsletter. This issue's reviewers include Eddie Pendarvis,
Diane Simmons, and Danny Williams. Joe Chuman once again sends
a reviews from his substack blog. He often interviews the
authors he reviews at his Puffin
Interview Series . I love the broadened perspective--
and I love getting ideas for what to read next.
Everyone reading this is invited to query me
about what you might want to review--or just send a finished
review as a .doc or .docx file attached to an email
to me.
This issue includes along with novels and
nonfiction two very different and very wonderful books of
poetry by Burt Kimmelman and Denton Loving.
First, though, in this issue is Ernie Brill's
alternative list of historical novels. We had a link to such a
list put out by Abebooks.com recently, and Ernie Brill found it weighted too heavily toward
novels that aren't particularly accurate to history.
READER
RESPONSES
Ernie Brill has an alternative list of
historical novels to the one from Abebooks.com.
He says: "With all due respect, the list of 'essential'
historical novels is very flawed. Many of them are
best-sellers where there is often a question of historical
veracity, i.e. Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities,
where the aristocrats including dear beloved Sidney are
beleaguered by what is portrayed as French Revolutionaries who
are basically nearly faceless beheading barbarians or vengeful
simmerers like Madame LaFarge. Methiinks there was a little
more to it than that, such as the real life remark leading up
to the insurrection by Marie Antoinette who replied to the
wails and cries of the desperate starving masses with the
quip, 'Let them eat cake ' ( And it is NOT true that the
renowned HOSTESS cupcake was named after her). Most of these
novels take place either on the European continent and in some
relationship to England OR to some colonial outpost that
England conquered and controlled such as India, Australia, New
Zealand, and more than a few African countries.
"So, globally speaking, in the best tradition of Americans
almost universally (in the US that is) we have lists made by
white Americans (at least ninety percent if not more by my
count0 about white history of Americans and Britishers. So,
completely omitted, is any history of six of the seven
continents of the world, especially Asia, Africa, South
America, and Antarctica although we hear there is a new
Antarctica novel on ice that will be soon be available thanks
to global warming and may meet some major publisher's seal of
approval- Penguin, perhaps
"Here is my own list of historical novels that I hope remedy
the lack of a wider view of the history of the world. I am
preparing the ultimate INTERNATIONAL READING LIST OF
INTERNATIONAL WRITERS OF OUTSTANDING ASTONISHING FICTION AND
POETRY. If you are interested, email me at erbrill69@gmail.com.
The books are so superior to most of the books on most lists
that it is almost laughable. But then I am only one person
with friends from other countries such as Turkey, The
Philippine, The Ukraine, Chile, Mexico,, Palestine, and
Brooklyn so they give me titles of the latest gems. Let me
offer some of the best."
-
OF NOBLE ORIGINS- SAHAR KHALIFEH- complex social justice
political issues and characters portrayed in the most
intricately artistic way about Palestine/Israel circa
1930.
-
STALINGRAD and LIFE AND FATE - Vassily Grossman. in
scope and skill one of the greatest historical novels ever
written anytime anywhere. A two volume work smuggled out
of Russia in the late 1940s but the second book was
smuggled out FIRST and published as LIFE AND FATE. The
second part appeared over twenty years later to
international fanfare. Panoramic and in-depth barely
describe the astonishing accomplishment this book offers
for understanding WWII. At the same time, this book
demands a commitment from the thrilled reader to stick
with it, takes breaks, and marvel over the skill. If you
can make the time what with work and family and other
responsibilities you may have, you'll be glad you did.
-
EL SENOR PRESIDENTE- Miguel Angel Asturias. This searing
portrait of a Dictator set the standard in international
fiction for the dissection of brutes along with a searing
offering of conditions and processes that create success
for fascism to engorge a country. Asturias also wrote a
fiery magically realist trilogy about the murderous mass
machinations of the United Fruit Company in Guatemala and
other Latin American countries; it was affectionately
known as The Banana Trilogy. For this internationally
unforgettably valuable deed, he was never allowed to set
foot on US soil. The three books are The Cyclone, The
Green Pope, and The Eyes of the Interred.
Make sure you have at least three or four rolls of duct
tape to put the top of your head back on after it explodes
and lands on Venus or Uranus.
-
GOD'S BITS OF WOOD- Ousmane Sembene. Sengalese communist
railroad workers lead a national shrike against French
imperialism, a landmark event that was the beginning of
getting France to leave Senegal. Sembene had been one of
many African young men forcibly drafted into WWII. When
the war ended he became involved in a massive dockworkers
strike in Marseilles and later wrote, in French, the short
novel The Black Docker. This was the rehearsal
for Gods Bits of Wood that wowed the world. In
his artistic evolution Sembene decided to make films to
reach more people; less than ten percent of the population
in Senegal spoke or read French. He became the father of
African cinema known first for his brilliant short films Black
Girl, The Money Order, and Emitai then
spent years raising money for his longer films.
-
STORMING HEAVEN - Denise Giardina. One of the most
powerful US labor novel about the tumultuous battle of the
US Miners Union in the Appalachians for union recognition.
liveable wages, safe and healthy working conditions.
Multiple points of view and a driven story beyond first
rate.
-
BELOVED - TONI MORRISON. A withering story of the
horrors of slavery that no one can walk away from and not
be changed in some and/or many ways.
The
Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers
This book was given to me as a birthday present by my husband
over a year ago. It took me that long to pick it up--800 pages
of family saga--a historical epic that begins when the Creeks and Cherokees still inhabited
central Georgia. It tells two simultaneous stories, a twenty
first century one and and a mid-nineteenth century one, about
the black and black-indigenous people who lived on a property
that was appropriated by white slave owners. It expands to a
small community where everyone of all races is related. The
people of color know it, and so do the white people, although
many of them don't want to recognize the historical facts.
It is the mixed race, but black-identifying, people who end
up with the property. One of the progenitors is a monstrous
white man who particularly enjoys sex with little black girls.
The absolute corruption of absolute power is embodied in him
as he builds a special little house for these girls he both
coddles and viciously violates. Most of the other characters
have at least a few redeeming qualities.
The twenty-first century story has a main narrator named
Ailey (yes, after the dancers) whose family and beloved
sisters embody a panoply of human types:
professional/educated/ne'er do well/drug
addicted/scholarly/religious and much more.
The novel does many things well, including lovingly
describing fried chicken, ribs, sweet potato pies and lots of
greens. Jeffers also dramatizes generational and individual
arguments about the righteousness or wrongness of eating pork.
Along with the gripping story line, Jeffers delineates
folkways including traditional repasts after funeral
"homecomings," and the affectionate politeness the young use
to their elders, even to those who don't deserve it. Jeffers
contrasts that gentle formal and respectful country behavior
to that of the white wife of one of men. The white girl is
better than the monstrous pedophile enslaver mostly because
she doesn't do anything criminal, but she is at once
insensitive, rude, jealous, condescending, and dumb. She's
balanced out somewhat by Ailey's aunt-by-marriage, also white,
and (am I taking this personally?) a much more interesting
because more nuanced character.
It's a hard book to speak about briefly, because of its
weight of themes, its multitude of characters and events, but
it is all a pleasure. It has been a best seller, and with good
reason. It is Jeffers' first novel, but she has published a
great deal of poetry, and she captures the music of people's
voices with just enough reminders of the different levels of
diction and dialects. The chapter titles sound like poetry,
but the novel is thick, muscular, and sensual.
The
Known World by Edward P. Jones reviewed by Diane
Simmons
I am always looking for the delicious book that
makes turning on my bedside lamp the best part of the day. The
Known World by Edward P. Jones has been one of those
books.
It won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2004,
so I don’t know where I’ve been.
But I’m OK with being out of it, since it has
meant this wonderful book is new to me now.
The story is unusual, apparently based on
records the author came across, telling of the complications
that ensued in a section of pre-Civil War Virginia when black
people sometimes bought themselves out of slavery, then went
on to own enslaved people themselves. And then, what happened
when white (or black) plantation owners fell in love—real
love—with people who were their own property. And how people
got along living together in the face of all this.
I don’t know that I have ever seen a more human
account of the condition of slavery in this country. It isn’t
generally a nice account; unspeakable things happen as is
inevitable in such a system, and in a time and place where an
idiotic sense of racial superiority on the part of some is
always available to trump everything. At the same time, the
telling does not deal in politics. It is just a story that
imagines how real people would have tried to live their lives
and to make the thing work.
Then the language. Sometimes I think you have to
be from the South or the West to “get” the constant humor and
imagery that has traditionally been a requirement for anyone
looking to speak or write in those parts of the
country. Indeed, I read a review of The Known World,
no doubt written by an Easterner, generally approving the book
but tut-tutting over the unnecessarily long Jones-ian
sentences.
But I’m from the rural West, and I bathed in
Jones’ sentences—oh not humor, exactly, just the poetry of
daily language pushed to the max--to the point that I had to
read the book a second time, just for the pure pleasure of
listening.
Tamp: Poems by Denton Loving
Denton Loving is a widely respected poet from
the Cumberland Gap region where Tennessee, Kentucky, and Virginia
meet. He lives on a farm, and his poems touch gracefully on
the natural world: "Needleless, the beetle-eaten pine
stood/through its last snow but fell in seedtime winds"
("Spring Signs"). His trees and animals, however, form the
context for his people.
Who work. I love how many of his poems are about
chores and jobs and the machines people use to do the jobs and
chores. One poem is called "Riding the Lawn Mower," and is
about the narrator's trials with getting his mower repaired:
"After the first small-engine repairman/tells me five miles is
too far for a house call..."). Then, like Christ at
Gethsemane, he wants to be relieved of the burden of taking
the engine apart himself, as his father taught him to do, but
in the end, "...I crawl onto summer-warm grass/like my father
taught me. I pull/S-pins and retaining springs,
freeing/suspension arms and the ant-sway bar...."
The father is the subject of probably half or
more of the poems–poems of mourning and memory. The wonderful
"The Fence Builder" has the narrator interacting with the
grave digger for his father's grave. "My graves don't rise or
sink," says the grave digger, and the narrator, in his own
work, taps and tamps the clay and levels the damp ground, just
as "...the man in the casket//taught me to tamp around wooden
posts,/to make a new fence last."
Loving also moves far from home: there are poems
about dreams and ancient Egypt, and Henry Adams. It is a
deeply satisfying collection with a low-key but absolute
seriousness as Loving explores life as he is experiencing it.
I don't think I have ever read poems that appear to claim so
little yet accomplish and move us so much with their perfect
alignment of word-to-subject.
Bruchac's
Sacajawea: The Story of Bird Woman and the Lewis and Clark
Expedition Reviewed by Eddy Pendarvis
Coyote was always changing things. He was not like
brother Wolf, who liked things to stay just as they were.
No, even when things were good, Coyote had to change them.
And he was so curious. Whenever he saw something new,
Coyote had to go see what it was.
That is how Coyote is.
And that is how Joseph Bruchac introduces Sacajawea's loss of
her childhood home in his fictionalized biography, Sacajawea:
The Story of Bird Woman and the Lewis and Clark Expedition.
His epigraph is surprisingly fitting to the history of a
Native American woman and the famous expedition in which she
played an important role.
Bruchac, of Native American heritage himself, tells the story
primarily through two narratives alternating by chapter: one
by Sacajawea and then one by William Clark, co-leader with
Meriwether Lewis, of the expedition. In the novel, Sacajawea
and Clark tell Sacajawea's son—Jean-Baptiste, nicknamed
Pompey—about their westward journey five years earlier. "Pomp"
had been with them on the journey, but he was just a baby
then, too young to remember it. Sacajawea's chapters are
introduced by excerpts from Native American myth. Clark's
chapters are introduced by excerpts from Clark's journals,
with one or two exceptions—an excerpt from a letter by John
Ordway, one of the young Kentuckians who volunteered for the
journey, and four by Meriwether Lewis, the man Jefferson
appointed to head the expedition.
Clark adds to Sacajawea's account of her captivity, telling
Pomp that she was taken from her Shoshone village five years before she and her husband, Toussaint
Charbonneau, Jean Baptiste's father, joined the expedition.
In telling Pomp about how she and Toussaint met, Sacajawea
said the French-Canadian man had been trading with the Indians
for years and knew some of their language, which was why he
and his wife were asked to join the expedition. She told the
boy that, although Toussaint wasn't known for his bravery, he
had an important quality:
How did I meet your father? Your father was not a young
man even then. Even though he was self-important, it was
said among all the tribes that knew him that Toussaint
Charbonneau was a man of little courage. Whenever he met
danger, he was not slow to run and go in the opposite
direction. . . . But he was also known to be clever. . . .
Perhaps your father's ways have been chosen by him to put
our people at ease. A man who makes people laugh is always
welcome.
She goes on to tell how Toussaint won her in a gambling game
he persuaded her captor to play. She didn't mind being given
to the older man—life promised to be easier and more
interesting with him.
For me, the most engaging facet of the story was the
fantastic endurance so many members of the expedition showed.
It's amazing that only one of the original company of about
thirty members died. On a journey that included temperatures
far below zero; near-starvation; attacks by grizzly bears;
swarms of gnats nearly impossible to keep out of their eyes
and almost blinding them at times; in addition to the
(surprisingly few) threats from members of hostile tribes. The
frostbite, wounds, infections, sores, and illnesses the
hardships brought were treated with remedies such as wild
onion poultices, "eye water" (a lead acetate solution of
uncertain safety as lead acetate is a likely carcinogen),
cream of tartar, rattlesnake rattles (not considered a sure
means of shortening Sacajawea's labor birthing Pomp, but used
in hope it would help), and a sweat-hole in which sat those
deemed needing to sweat out toxins.
As I read Bruchac's fictionalized biography, published in
1985, I felt like I came to know Sacajawea (today, often
spelled Sacagawea, sometimes spelled Sakakawea) and other
major figures in that famous search for a northwest passage to
the Pacific Ocean. The author's note at the end of the book
describes the considerable research he did and also mentions
that a descendant of Sacajawea's, Eileen Charbonneau, read the
manuscript and endorsed it. I finished the novel gratified by
having learned so much from it. Even better, I'd been
enthralled by this tale of adventure and ordeals faced with
such courage on that hazardous expedition begun in May of 1804
and ending in September, 1806.
I was so intrigued by the characters, their adventures, and
their misadventures that after I finished the novel, I pulled The Journals of Lewis and Clark, edited (and
abridged) by Bernard DeVoto, off a bookcase full of books my
uncle had given me, but I hadn't yet read. Published in 1953,
DeVoto's book offered a more detailed take on the experiences
of the white men leading that "Corps of Discovery"
commissioned by Thomas Jefferson in 1803. One thing I learned
is that there were interesting disparities between Bruchac's
fictionalized William Clark and the man of Clark's own journal
entries. One disparity is Clark's entertaining indifference to
standard spelling and punctuation (such standardization as
there was at the time anyway). Here's an example from his
entry of May 16, 1806:
Rained moderately all the last night and this morning.
. . . The rains unfortunately wet the Crenomuter in the
fob of Capt. L. breaches, which has never before been wet
since we set out on this expedition, her works were
cautiously wiped and made dry by Capt. L. and I think she
will receve no injury from this misfortune. . . . . the
few worm days which we have had has melted the snows in
the mountains and the river has rose considerably, that
icy barrier which seperates me from my friends and
Country, from all which makes life estimable, is yet white
with the snow which is maney feet deep.
Among the relatively few consistencies in Clark's spelling
was his spelling of "squaw" as "squar." Actually, the fact
that he spelled "moccasin" as "mockarsin" makes me wonder if
Native American phonology might've had something close to an
"r" sound in those words. He didn't typically add sounds to
words.
More sobering was the realization that Bruchac's Clark is
much more generous in spirit toward his slave York than
history suggests is the case. Bruchac's good-natured Clark
says of his "man-servant" (note the greater literacy of this
Clark):
I have known York longer than anyone. . . . We have
been constant companions since before he accompanied our
Corps of Discovery as my personal servant—he ended up
doing as much as any man among us. . . . It is difficult
to imagine a man who has been closer to me in many ways.
Nor can I imagine what our great adventure would have been
like without him along.
York did contribute to the success of the expedition; and
Bruchac goes on to have Clark compliment the man further:
And you should have seen him that first day as we
traveled up the Mississippi and when we reached its
boiling waters. . . . York bent his back into the oars of
the pirogue better than any other man. That is how he
always was, taking on as much work as any man in our
company and doing it with a glad heart. I shall never
forget the way he would laugh, even when we were in the
worst of danger. His was a laugh big enough to shake the
sky.
None of this affection comes through in DeVoto's excerpts,
from Clark's journals, which focus primarily on how astonished
Indians—most of whom had never seen an African American—were
with York's appearance. Even though that lack might be due to
DeVoto's choice of excerpts, some contemporary accounts of
Clark's behavior toward York after the expedition conflict
with Bruchac's portrayal of Clark's extraordinary good will
toward his slave.
Not long after reading Bruchac and DeVoto, I came across the
article, "Getting Sacagawea Right," in The New York
Review of Books.. The article was about a new
biography, Our Story of Eagle Woman: Sacagawea: They Got It
Wrong, written by the Sacagawea Project Board of the Mandan,
Hidatsa, and Arikara Nation. Published in 2021, this biography
says Sacagawea wasn't taken from a Shoshone family by Hidatsa
warriors. In fact, she wasn't a Shoshone. Her father was a
Hidatsa, and her mother was a Crow. The biography also
disputes popular understanding of her life after the
expedition. Although history has portrayed her as dying of
"putrid fever" in 1812, this fate has been disputed by Native
Americans for some time. The descendants of Sacagawea who
wrote this recent biography offer evidence that she lived into
the 1860s and describe some incidents of her long life.
That "facts" about this woman and others who made history two
centuries ago have been questioned or disproved is not an
anomaly. History changes; and that's probably mostly a good
thing. Historians' dissatisfaction with old truths, like
Coyote's interest in new things, often comes out of that
useful (if sometimes dangerous) trait, curiosity. Maybe some
important details of history are always going to be as
unstandardized as Clark's spelling; and we have to be
satisfied with probabilities and the joy of discovery.
Bruchac's Sacagawea offers an enticing introduction to one of
the most dramatic periods in U.S. history and is likely to
inspire young and old readers to seek further insight to that
time and how it has been recorded.
Also see the review of Getting Sacagawea Right from the New York
Review of Books--mentioned above.
Steeples
at Sunrise: New Poems by Burt Kimmelman
This book of short, spare poems is thick with natural
phenomenon, usually simply named rather than turned into
elaborate metaphors: crickets, gulls, sand, sea, light, dark,
sun. Where the language is heightened, it is
stunning as in "End of
February: from the Parapet" where he names the long vista he
sees from park to suburbs to city and ends with "the vague
sea." (p.59) This is simple and yet so true to what we
actually perceive as we scan the horizon from a high place.
Or again, there is the clear, powerful language at the end of
"Night, Late Summer"-- "an empty/dark full of life, waiting."
(p.43). What strikes me here is the choice of one or two
syllable words, often repeated, tapping out a close imitation
of the reality of how we perceive but are usually unaware of.
The first half of the collection has a number of poems
addressed to other poets and other poems. One three-poem run
that especially moved me was "Bridges On the Hudson",
"Ritual," and "It is This," (pp. 17,18, and 19).
In the second half, the poems are almost ascetic, organized
as Kimmelman explains in a prose introduction, in the order in
which they were composed, during the Covid lock-down. Many are
set around the parapet of a county park in Essex, County, New
Jersey overlooking suburban New Jersey towns and the New York
bay and the skyline the city itself. These poems are about
weather, seasons, and what Kimmelman calls, "the hope and
thrill of the natural world's insistence on life (p. 30)."
These poems are like Japanese syllabic poetry, and they also
have a quality of black and white snapshots, a "take" on the
world that stops, freezes, pulls you in, and leaves you with a
sense of time and place organized.
The final poem, "The Trees in Late May" (p.62), captures East
Coast summer greenness in a way I've never encountered before:
"green/ alone what there is/ to know, to remember." This whole
poem instructs in what it means to be part of the natural
world in spite of, or as well as, what is separate and special
in the human worlds.
Fresh
Water for Flowers by Valérie Perrin
This is the English language debut of Perrin's novel. She is
a bestseller in France, and there is something ineffably
French about this
novel which manages to be at once full of event and mystery
and yet leisurely and amusing with its ceremonies and details
of daily life.
The main character Violette is a cemetery keeper, and the
other employees at the cemetery are quirky and amusing and
sometimes wise and sometimes foolish One named Elvis only
sings songs by Presley; Violette's predecessor as keeper is
Sasha who is a kind of guru who takes his retirement in
wandering the word, but especially India.
Violette grew up in foster-homes, her life narrowed and
darkened by a lack of love and family. Early, she marries
Philippe Toussaint, a mama's boy who lets her earn their
living while he rides his motorcycle and picks up women. The
couple has a terrible loss that binds them and wrenches them
apart.
Violette returns to life by organizing and recording other
people's funerals and grief. There is a lot of satisfaction in
the second half of the novel as mysteries are unreeled,
especially what happened to Violette and Philippe's daughter.
Perhaps the most striking revelation, however, is that
Philippe proves to be more complex than he seems.
I liked it very much.
For a different take, see Kirkus,
which called it "Overstuffed, at times rambling, but
colorful and highly enjoyable and pulled together by an
engaging narrator."
Salvage
the Bones by Jesmyn Ward
This, Ward's second book and the 2011 National Book Award
winner for fiction, is tight, vivid, and powerful. It ends
with a black working class family's harrowing experience
during Hurricane Katrina in their tiny Gulf Coast Mississippi
community, and the material has an angle that is very fresh to
me, especially the loyalty and love among the
siblings in a motherless family. The story is carried by the
voice of a wonderful teen-age narrator who is reading
mythology for her summer homework, and identifies with Medea
of mythology.
The father of the family drinks too much but also spends a
lot of his time trying to reinforce the family home for the
coming storm, which most of the family and neighbors downplay.
We discover after a while that the narrator is pregnant and
in love with a handsome jerk. She has also, since she was
twelve, been having sex with most of her brothers' friends,
and at least one of them is crazy about her.
She identifies herself not only with Medea but also with her
nearest brother's white pit bull who gives birth in great
detail early in the novel. Part of the fascination of this
novel is the almost heroic passion of this brother for his
dog, and the sport of dog fighting is one fascinating part of
the novel, as is the question of whether a mother pit bull can
fight while she is nursing puppies.
Most of the characters would look like losers to a big swath
of affluent America, but while there is much violence and
heart-breaking loss, there is no sense of victimhood. The
young people have the big-hearted courage of survivors, which
often means having people to love and be loved by. There are
also, of course, all the classic narrative conflicts: people
versus nature; people versus each other, people versus
themselves and versus society.
And that doesn't even mention the details of flood or the big
basketball game or the brutal bloody dog fights.
Men We
Reaped by Jesmyn Ward
Okay, Jesmyn Ward is wonderful and deserves her accolades.
This book is memoir, published in 2013 and centering on five
deaths of young men between 2000 and 2004, starting and ending
with her beloved younger brother. It is held together by a
solid structure in which we get sections on how each young man
died, told in reverse chronological order, although we know
from the beginning that the last story/first death is going to
be her brother.
Between the reverse order stories of the deaths by murder,
suicide, a car accident caused by a drunk, etc.-- is a roughly
chronological story of Ward's early years and her parents'
marriage. We get the stories of the parents. of her and her
two sisters and one brother. plus their extended family, and
their community. We get a sense of the enormous stresses of a
life with no financial rescue net, although with many
supportive people. The family sometimes lives in houses,
sometimes on the West Coast, mostly in Gulf Coast Mississippi,
sometimes in an old mobile home, sometimes in a better
double-wide or in her grandmother's crowded household. Her
father leaves and comes back; there are decent paying jobs,
but more housekeeping and gas station attendant jobs. There
are food stamps and surplus food. Ward is bookish and smart
and eventually gets access to a private, mostly white school
where she, who has lived in a largely black world, meets the
faces of blatant good old Southern white racism. She wins
scholarships to major universities, gets excellent jobs on the
East and West Coast.
And comes home as often as she can, often, it turns out, to
mourn.
The setting is mostly very small towns in coastal Mississippi
but there are also passages in Gulfport and New Orleans. She
writes brilliantly about a community and a culture and about
the effects of being not-seen by the dominant class. Nor does
she turn away from the painful gender distinctions and
injustices among her beloved family and friends. She writes
very clearly and with a broad perspective of the effects of
racism and a sagging economy.
She is, of course, aware of how these personal stories fit
into the large historical and social picture. She refers to
the nineteen-sixties history of the Black Panthers, whose
community building in Oakland, California, was witnessed by
her own father, and she refers to W.E.B. Dubois and many other
thinkers and creative writers.
Her title comes from a speech by Harriet Tubman.
Emotionally, this is a hard book to read, but it is also
impossible to stop reading.
The
Bright Forever Lee Martin
This is a kind of psychological thriller,
although what Martin really seems to love best is recreating
life in a small mid western American town in the early
1970's–the music, where people hang out, who is rich, who is
poor, the beauty
of children, the community activities. His most interesting
characters are two misfit unhappy men who come together. He is
especially interested in Mr. Dees, the withdrawn math teacher
who lives alone, puts up purple martin houses, loves best to
teach children one-on-one in summer math tutorials. He is
deeply drawn to Katie Mackey, either loving the child
romantically or wanting to be her father.
The thinness of the line between those two is a
lot of what the novel is exploring. The couple down the street
from Mr. Dees, Clare and Raymond R, are also small town
losers, she yearning for love, he for some kind of status as a
man.
Raymond begins to do favors for Mr. Dees. There
is a shocking crime.
The complexity of the novel is about who is
responsible for the crime, both in the whodunit way and also
in the moral universe. The characters are all pushed to
extremities–everything possible to go wrong does go wrong, and
the deck is perhaps stacked against Raymond R., who we are
told repeatedly as a child had to eat his fried egg sandwich
everyday for lunch at school under a leaking steam pipe
because he couldn't afford hot lunch. Most of the adult
characters have no relatives, no back story, are figures of
experiment, to see what happens when they are are
existentially challenged.
Perhaps the greatest strength of the novel is in
its details: the flowers Katie's mother grows; Katie riding
her bike at night with no shoes on; the purple martins and the
Cooper's hawk, the smells of summer; Mr. Dees's carefully
prepared daily breakfasts. The beauty of everyday life
balances but doesn't outweigh the human evil.
Ubik by Philip K. Dick
Ubik makes it
clear why Philip Dick is such a popular science fiction
writer. He has a lot of humor, or more like a wry flavor, very
visual and thus both easy to imagine and to make a successful
transfer to movies
This one is set in the future from its publication in 1969--
1992! Its future is wonderfully done, but misses the greatest
change of all, which has been digital technology. He has
instant newspapers available, but they are made of paper that
comes spooling out of a machine. People have collections of
cd's and tapes–no streaming, no real climate disaster.
But his misses on the future really don't matter-he offers an
alternative world that feels just about as real as the one we
actually got. The science fiction plot part is about a
discovery that deeply cooled corpses have a lingering presence
called half-life and can talk and influence the living.
The novel is stronger on action than characterization, but
very disquieting just the same. Oh, and the clothes! Everyone
wears such great outfits: "At this moment, with the chilly,
echoing building just beginning to stir, a worried-looking
clerical individual with nearly opaque glasses and wearing a
tabby-fur blazer and pointed yellow shoes waited at the
reception counter, a claim-check stub in his hand."
A tabby-fur blazer. Not a sweater or a vest, but a freaking
blazer!
I don't want to gobble his entire oeuvre at one
time, but I'll definitely read more.
Left
Is Not Woke by Susie Neiman reviewed by Joe Chuman
Susan Neiman's Left Is Not Woke is a timely,
compelling, and necessary book. For me, it is also personal.
Neiman is an adept philosopher and public intellectual who
has taught at Yale and Tel Aviv University. She has been a
member of the Institute for Advanced Study and this is the
latest of her nine books. Her upbringing in Atlanta during the
Civil Rights Movement sealed her identity on the left. She has
lived for years in Berlin, where she lectures and serves as
the director of the Einstein Forum. Neiman, in this book and
others, has been a staunch defender of the Enlightenment. In
the current volume, she contends that the left has abandoned
its Enlightenment foundations, gone astray, and ironically
serves conservative interests.
Clearly, her critique does not pertain to the left in its
entirety, but to those elements that have appropriated a woke
agenda. As she notes in the book's introduction, Neiman
proudly identifies as a leftist (not a liberal,which on her
continent signifies libertarian) and as a socialist.
As with Neiman, I am a child of the `60s and the antiwar
movement. I have written earlier essays on the emergence of
identity politics as the basis of tribalism which ominously
fractures American society. It has also divided the left in
ways that leave me feeling betrayed. Political positions and
ideologies that have shaped my identity are carried on in the
name of a progressivism I cannot recognize. Left Is Not Woke
validates my discomfort and does so with tremendous power
vested in far-reaching erudition and expressed with compelling
clarity.
Neiman lays out her thesis at the beginning of her text:
"What concerns me most...are the ways in which contemporary
voices considered to be leftist have abandoned the
philosophical ideas that are central to any left-wing
standpoint: a commitment to universalism over tribalism, a
firm distinction between justice and power, and a belief in
the possibility of progress."
To those who proclaim that the problem of dealing with
threats and wokeism coming from the right requires our primary
attention, Neiman contends that only if the left can heal its
divisions can the right be successfully challenged. She notes,
"The right may be more dangerous, but today's left has
deprived itself of the ideas we need of if we hope to resist
the lurch to the right."
Here in a nutshell is the dynamic inherent in wokeism:
"Can woke be defined? It begins with concern for marginalized
persons and ends by reducing each to the prism of her
marginalization. The idea of intersectionality might have
emphasized the ways in which all of us have more than one
identity. Instead, it led to a focus on those parts of
identities that are most marginalized, and multiplies them
into a forest of trauma."
"Reducing each to the prism of her marginalization" is the
central dynamic concept that drives her thesis. It is a
current political phenomenon that defines au courant leftism
that disturbs me greatly as well. Identity politics has
forsaken universalism and replaced it with a politics of group
interest which pits one group against others and in which
victimization is a prevailing currency. At the same time, a
recognition of supervening political and economic powers and
interests that mold and govern the values and lives of society
as a whole have been abandoned.
She cites the late sociologist, Todd Gitlin, who commenting
on identity politics noted:
"On this view, the goal of politics is to make sure your
category is represented in power, and the proper critique of
other people's politics is that they represent a category that
is not yours...Even when it takes on radical temper, identity
politics is interest-group politics. It aims to change the
distribution of benefits, not the rules under which
distribution takes place."
It is those rules that require a broader, abstract, and
universal commitment. Identity politics has coalesced into
tribalism. On the left, tribal identities, Neiman avers, are
two: race and gender.
It is reductionism, the fixation on race and gender and the
consequences that flow from it, that has spawned a vicious
tribalism, a vaunted and destructive valorization of
victimhood, a bewitchment with an ideology of power
inequities, and a destructively distorted politics.
It should be self-evident that this reductionism is
empirically false. A person's selfhood and identity are far
richer and more diverse than where they are placed within the
framework of race (isn't it an irony that racial identity has
become a political obsession at a time when science denies the
reality of race?) and one's gender. As Neiman states:
"A moment's reflection shows even those (i.e. race and
gender) to be less determinant than supposed. The life of a
black person is dramatically different in America and
Nigeria...And being Nigerian is only an identifying
description outside the country; in a land whose citizens are
divided by fraught histories and more than five hundred
languages, saying you're Nigerian means nothing at all. Being
a Jew in Berlin and Jew in Brooklyn are experienced so
differently that I can assure you they amount to different
identities. A Jew in Tel Aviv has another identity again; but
a Jew born in Tel Aviv has a fundamentally different stance in
the world than a Jew who moves there later in life. Is there
an Indian identity that holds equally for Hindus and Muslims,
Brahmins and Dalits? Can you identify someone who is gay
without mentioning whether he lives in Tehran or Toledo?"
She quotes the historian Benjamin Zachariah:
"Once upon a time, essentializing people was considered
offensive, somewhat stupid, anti-liberal, anti-progressive,
but now this is the only so when it is done by other people.
Self-essentializing and self-stereotyping are not only allowed
but considered empowering."
Stupid and anti-intellectual. It was my mentor, Cornel West,
assuredly a race man, who emphasized that every culture is a
product of "radical hybridity." Every culture is comprised of
a multitude of sub-cultures adhering to different values, and
people are often at each other's throats.
Universalism, which used to be a hallmark of the left, by no
means decries diversity. What it does call for is the capacity
for abstraction that speaks to a universal humanity. And it is
this universalism that allows for a richer appreciation for
diversity, even as it emphasizes as a foundational value that
all human beings share a common nature. It has also been, and
ought to be, the basis for progressive activism. All people
are capable of feeling pain as I do. All people strive for
recognition of their dignity. As Neiman correctly observes,
"Appealing to the humanity of those being dehumanized is the
universal form we use to respond to oppression everywhere.
That Jefferson and Kant did not practice what they preached is
no argument against the sermon." Tribalism, by contrast,
"...is a description of civil breakdown that occurs when
people, of whatever kind, see the fundamental human difference
as that between our kind and everyone else." For woke
politics, identifying people by their race and gender is all
that matters. Facts, details, nuance, individual values, and
beliefs within those all-encompassing categories command scant
attention when rendering political assessments. We inhabit a
tribalized world constructed on the axis of crude ideologies
in which power inequity is the sole dynamic: oppressors and
the oppressed, victimizers and victims.
Neiman draws on her scholarship of the Enlightenment as its
defender at a time when the Enlightenment is under attack in
academia and among those on the left who see it as little more
than a source of political oppression. Among the values the
Enlightenment proffered, and which created the modern world,
were reason, universalism, objectivity, and equality. The
politics that concern Neiman are no doubt a product of
postmodernism, which has made attacks on the Enlightenment a
centerpiece of its theorizing and which Neiman cites only
implicitly.
Among Enlightenment critics, reason, its capacity to
objectify "the other," and its alleged role in creating
totalistic frameworks of order and hierarchy, have been held
responsible for creating the evils of European imperialism,
colonialism, the oppression and genocide of non-white
non-European persons.
Neiman directly takes this and related claims to task. In the
first instance, to assert that the Enlightenment was the
source for the emergence of colonialism, genocide and, the
slavery of non-white peoples and others unlike themselves is
to be profoundly blind to history. Didn't the Greeks, Romans,
Chinese and Mughals, Aztecs, and multitudes of pre-modern
people also build empires and perpetrate the subjugation and
slaughter of others centuries before the modern era? I once
spent a morning with the famed ethicist, Peter Singer. Singer
is Australian, and I posed the question to him about the
claims that the Enlightenment was the cause of the horrors and
oppressions that have been a tragic reality of the modern
world. I recall him recounting to me how evidence had revealed
the wholesale murder of thousands of indigenous New Zealanders
by a neighboring tribe many years before the white man arrived
in that part of the world. Clearly, people do not need the
categories of Enlightenment reason, science, and hierarchical
taxonomies to fuel or legitimate paroxysms of hate, cruelty,
and murder. Modernity has undoubtedly brought its frustrations
and problems, but a unique capacity for cruelty, violence, and
oppressing others is assuredly not one of them. To so believe
is simply not to look and to be led by a misguided romanticism
as to the presumed goodness of pre-modern peoples.
Neiman furthermore claims that an informed reading of the
Enlightenment, despite contrary assertions, is not
Eurocentric. It's an important corrective to what are facile
allegations that the Enlightenment was uniquely responsible
for the panoply of modern atrocities. Assuredly, one can find
in the writings of Enlightenment luminaries, Hume, Kant, and
Voltaire, among others, disparaging and bigoted remarks about
Africans and non-white peoples. But the Enlightenment emerged
as a movement in opposition to the absolute claims of religion
and ecclesiastical authority. In defiance of that authority,
Enlightenment luminaries powerfully asserted the role of
reason, free inquiry, and tolerance. In so doing, despite
incomplete knowledge, they often invoked the achievements and
superiority of non-European cultures.
Here it is instructive to quote Neiman at length:
"There are few challenges more bewildering than the claim
that the Enlightenment was Eurocentric. Perhaps those who make
it confuse eighteenth-century realities with the Enlightenment
thinkers who fought to change them – often at considerable
personal risk. When contemporary postcolonial theorists
rightly insist that we learn to view the world from the
perspective of non-Europeans, they're echoing a tradition that
goes back to Montesquieu, who used fictional Persians to
criticize European mores in ways he could not have safely done
as a Frenchman writing in his own voice. Montesquieu's The
Persian Letters was followed by scores of other writings using
the same device. Lahontan's Dialogue with a Huron and
Diderot's Supplement to Bougainville's Voyage criticized the
patriarchal sexual laws of Europe, which criminalized women
who bore children out of wedlock, from the perspective of the
more egalitarian Hurons and Tahitians. Voltaire's sharpest
attacks on Christianity were written in the voices of a
Chinese emperor, and an indigenous South American priest...the
Enlightenment was pathbreaking in rejecting Eurocentrism and
urging Europeans to examine themselves from the perspective of
the rest of the world."
"Enlightenment discussion of the non-European world was
rarely disinterested. Its thinkers studied Islam in order to
find another universal religion that could highlight Christian
faults. Bayle and Voltaire argued that Islam was less cruel
and bloody than Christianity because it was more tolerant and
rational."
"...it's fatal to forget that thinkers like Rousseau,
Diderot, and Kant were not the first to condemn Eurocentrism
and colonialism. They also laid the theoretical foundation for
the universalism upon which all struggles against racism must
stand, together with a robust assurance that cultural
pluralism is not an alternative to universalism but an
enhancement of it."
It is such universalism that has laid the groundwork for
future progressive movements, which in our time, as noted, has
been jettisoned in favor of tribalism, and tragically, reason
is now identified with oppression.
The salience of tribalism and the valorization of
non-Europeans feeds into a political construct hewn along the
binary of victims and victimizers. Here Neiman's analysis is
especially compelling. As a human rights academic and
activist, I have long acknowledged that human rights starts
with the victim. Victims of human rights abuse merit primary
consideration. Neiman would agree. But I have long argued that
being a victim is a condition; it is not a virtue. What
matters most is what one does with one's victimhood.
Neiman cogently develops this thought. She prefers to return
to the model, as she states, in which claims to authority are
focused on what a person does to the world and not what the
world has done to you. This approach "allows us to honor
caring for victims as a virtue without suggesting that being a
victim is one as well." Yet in our current political moment,
being a victim and the experience of powerlessness is
construed as an inevitable basis for political authority.
"Victimhood," she notes, "should be a source of legitimation
for restitution, but once we begin to view victimhood per se
as the currency of recognition, we are on the road to
divorcing recognition, and legitimacy, from virtue
altogether."
For the woke left, a world of victims and victimizers is a
world suffused with power for which the philosophy of Michel
Foucault is the reigning academic authority. For Foucault
"power is everywhere." "Power produces reality, it produces
domains of objects and rituals of truth." Power, as Neiman
observes, "was woven into the very fabric of our language,
thoughts, and desires." The yen for power is insinuated in all
human institutions and political strivings. Neiman concludes
that Foucault is a nihilist. In his worldview, justice,
recalling Thrasymachus in Plato's Republic, is nothing but a
masked expression of the self-interests of the powerful.
Power consumes not only justice but reason. This contention
has been a mainstay of those who bash the Enlightenment. As
Neiman asserts:
"Twentieth-century thinkers as different as Foucault,
Heidegger, and Adorno were united in viewing what they called
'Enlightenment reason' not merely as a self-serving fraud but
even more as a domineering, calculating, rapacious sort of
monster committed to subjugating nature – and with it,
indigenous people considered to be natural. On this picture,
reason is merely an instrument and expression of
power...reason is a more polite but manipulative way of
hitting someone over the head."
But the falsity of the equation should be virtually
self-evident. Reason's function, as Neiman notes, is to uphold
the force of ideals. It is to question experience and spur us
to move toward something better. It is to imagine that
something could be different. But to view reason as merely a
form of power is to ignore the difference between violence and
persuasion, and persuasion and manipulation.
A more complete review of Susan Neiman's Left Is Not Woke would include her critique of evolutionary psychology,
which she sees as negating altruism and reinforcing the
self-interest underlying tribalism. It would also include her
commitment to progress, which a Foucauldian philosophy denies,
and which needs to be reclaimed.
Sectors of the left have fallen prey to ideologies that have
caused it to undermine the very goals for which progressives
have long struggled. Susan Neiman's Left Is Not Woke provides
a brilliantly argued, compelling, and necessary corrective.
This book merits urgent attention.
SHORT
TAKES
Crying in H
Mart by Michelle Zauner
It's the kind of book I'm glad has been a best
seller—interesting and lively, sharing a different world,
heart-in-the-right place. I wasn't even jealous of the young
writer with her sudden success in both the worlds of books and
music—the odd way in which it all opened up for her after her
mother died, and her inadvertent belief that somehow,
inchoately, her dead mother was putting a foot on God's neck
to demand he do something good for her daughter! Great image.
Zauner has paid her dues, years of writing songs, working in
bands, networking, the whole thing. The driven child, the
smothering mother who is so passionate for her child.
And boy does this book make me want to go out and eat
Korean.
Charlotte's
Web by E.B. White
Such a pleasure to read to my granddaughter on a
long Amtrak ride. It was good to me as an old adult, and was
just right for a bookish seven year old. I'm sure she didn't
get everything, and also she already knew the basic story from
a short version of the book or maybe from a cartoon.
My only complaint is the gendered roles of the
motherly types, and the way 8-9 year old Fern fades away as a
character and then falls in puppy love on the Ferris Wheel
with Henry Fussy.
On the other hand, Charlotte herself is part of a
matriarchy.
Wonderful book.
Every
Man a King by Walter Mosley
Another Joe King Oliver novel. He has lots of good
stuff as always, but also seems to be going over the top,
maybe to keep himself and us stimulated.
More rich people, fewer working class. That was one
of the charms of Mosley's early Easy Rawlins books, that the
cast of characters was working class with just an occasional
affluent person dropping in, usually to perpetrate some evil.
This one has a particularly convoluted plot and urban fantasy
elements like imaginary hideouts all over New York and a
computer with a list of Ten Thousand Things, a trove of
blackmail-worthy information on various public figures.
It also has a couple of black women who have
hooked up with extremely dangerous and powerful white men,
including our hero Joe Oliver's grandmother.
The first Joe Oliver book dramatized the PI's fall
and time at Rivers which turned him from police work to being
a PI. This one just refers to that in passing. Joe calls in a
lot of friends with special skills. Always worth a fast read,
but this one isn't as good as Mosley's earlier books. Perhaps
a classic example of a pot boiler?
A Feast for for
Crows and A Dance with Dragons by George
R.R. Martin
Finishing my reread of Martin's Fire and Ice
novels. Feast for Crows, the darkest yet of George
R. R.'s books, depressing, actually, with
too much of Cersei's snotty asides for my taste (basically
every line she utters has one). She is maybe on thing that
was better in the Game of Thrones HBO series because
she was nice to look at, and while you knew she was evil, you
didn't get smothered in unvarying pettiness. Lots of Brienne
the Maid of Tarth. a little of Arya and Sansa (did GRRM
perceive this as his women's book?) but no Stark boys, no or
very little Jon-on-the-Wall. And above all no Daenerys and no
Tyrion! The Jaime parts are good as he seems to have grown and
actually changed, is making some pretty fair leadership
moves.
I'm still wondering why so much animus toward
Cersei, the least nuanced of the point of view characters. The
book ends with a statement from GRRM saying Hey, I bet you
thought there was more! He talks about how he realized it was
going to be too big a book and broke it n two, but with the
timelines overlapping. Essentially Feast is the
Lannister-Kings Landing story, and he'll pick up the Ironmen
and Riverun later. Okay, that works. It leaves Brienne
hanging--quite literally. But no Hound, also missing in all
of the above.
And--A Dance with Dragons! Yes, I finished
rereading the last book in my big reread. This one caused me a
lot of problems with interference from the HBO show–in which
Jon is brought back to life, Daenerys actually goes on to
Westeros, blows up King's Landing, and of course the
not-big-enough showdown with the Night King who doesn't even
exist in A Dance with Dragons. It's a funny feeling,
unsettling in fact, that the t.v. show was good enough to
confuse me about what I'd imagined/visualized from reading and
what was done so well, mostly, on film.
But of course, the strength of novels is the detail, the
relatively leisurely pace, all kinds of descriptions of food.
Sometimes I think I was in a hurry to get to the parts that I
had forgotten weren't in the book. Cersei's walk of shame is
there. We don't see Sam or Sansa and Littlefinger in this one.
I'd totally forgotten the return of Varys, who finally shows
his true colors! It's poor Jeyne Poole who gets tortured by
Ramsay not Sansa. I also kept forgetting that these events ran
simultaneously with the events in A Feast for Crows.
So lots of confusion, a sense of less organization that in
the early books, but if you're still reading by this time (for
the second go in my case!) it's the world you love and want to
be in, as big and broad and thick as it can be.
But where's The Winds of Winter? I want more books!
Day After
Night & The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
Reviewed by Danny Williams
Anita
Diamant's Day After Night [is about] Jewish women
in a British internment camp in Palestine. It's not about Jews,
it's about women. Anita D. wowed me with this, and totally
wowed me with The Red Tent. I'm a Bible type guy,
and this book made the Old Testament so real I could almost
taste the dust. And a view of history quite different from
the one which finally made it into the canon. A book which
will stay with me. The
Red Tent
is, to me, one of the best things ever. So true, that there
was no Judaism or anything like it until Ezra's speech
centuries later. It was a belief that there is one god, and
that's about it. And the alternative view of Dinah's story.
The version in the OT was necessarily one-sided, and used
the accusation of rape in an attempt to justify the horrific
murders.
Light
After Dark
is another rich story of women.
GOOD READING
& LISTENING ONLINE AND OFF!
-
Try to get hold of the Summer 2023 issue of Goldenseal:
West Virginia Traditional Life available from The
Cultural Center, 1900 Kanawha Blvd. East, Charleston, WV
25305. Lots of good stuff as always, but don't miss Edwina
Pendarvis's piece on the fascinating Phyllis Wilson Moore,
"Heroine of West Virginia Literature."
-
-
A fantasy subgenre new to me: Curio fiction,
in which just one element in the otherwise mundane world is
fantastical: Kafka's The Metamorphosis is an
example. See
Diane Callahan's article here.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Interesting
scholarly article by Nichole Nelson, Ph.D., called
"Fractures within Fair Housing: The Battle for the Memory
and
Legacy of the Long Fair Housing Movement" about that
includes interviews from South Orange and Maplewood, NJ.
-
-
-
Lynne Squires' small, powerful essay on shoes of the
Holocaust "So Many Shoes.
-
ESPECIALLY
FOR WRITERS: Links and More
-
Dorian Gossy writes about publicizing her
new book of short stories, The House on Figueroa at
a library reading:: " I read the title story yesterday at a
library reading & liked how it sounded. The audience of
12 seemed to like it, too! The 2 readings I've done have had
an 'open mic' afterward, & apparently this is how a lot
of readings are going these days. There's an intimacy there
in the room that you don't get when it's just you
performing.I think the format may incite more interest in
the featured reader & her or his book....the town-hall
form is a good populist one overall. Got takers of all my
books, anyway. Donated proceeds to the library, which I
think may have inclined folks to buy them even more."
-
-
-
Francine
Prose on censorship--especially Elizabeth Gilbert's
decision to withdraw her upcoming novel set in Siberia in
the last century as an act of solidarity with Ukranians
suffering under Putin's war. Thanks, Nikolas Kozloff.
-
George
Lies writes: "I've read New York authors and
writers books in fiction, detective, literary, social
commentary, and classics, and learned many writing tips and
genre forms from their words, like: E.L. Doctorow (the
imagination, mixing past with now), Grace Paley, S. J. Rozan
(detective writing), Bernard Malamud (how to open stories!),
Paul Auster (read most books, surrealism at times), James
Baldwin (social comments), Gertrude Stein (her little book
on writing, others), John Cheever (city life with a twist)—
and many of the Algonquin crew writers."
-
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Silent Letter, poems by
Gail Hanlon from Cornerstone
Press . “Gail
Hanlon’s masterful, uneasy mixture of ghostly epistles,
imagistic memoir, and involute but plainspoken metaphysics
sketch a quiet wilderness of self, a grief-land of
beautiful questing and questioning. ” —Gregory
Lawless, author of Dreamburgh, Pennsylvania .
New Poems: Tom Donlon's Apart, I am Together
Poet Laureate of West Virginia Marc Harshman says, "Tom
Donlon displays an uncanny ability to see the prosaic details
of our lives through a lens of faith and beauty that lifts the
best of the work into realms of wonder."
RESPONSES TO THIS NEWSLETTER
Please send responses to this newsletter
directly to Meredith
Sue Willis . Unless you say otherwise, your letter may
be edited for length and published in this newsletter.
BACK ISSUES click here.
Meredith
Sue Willis's
Books for Readers # 229
September 10, 2023
For functioning links and best
appearance,
read this newsletter in its permanent location.
Dr. J. Nozipo Maraire; William Makepeace Thackery; Larry
Schardt; Martha Wells; Henry Makepeace Thackery; paintings
by Munch.
Contents:
and
.
REVIEWS
This list is alphabetical by book
author (not reviewer).
They are written by MSW unless otherwise noted.
I just read my first offical genre romance novel--not
romance as in Pride and Prejudice. A recent
piece in The New York Times about a new
(pink) bookstore opening in our old neighborhood in
Brooklyn, Park Slope inspired me. The bookstore is called
The Ripped Bodice, and the article touches on the feminist
argument that romance novels are really about women's desire
and sexuality and thus woman-centered and intrinsically
feminist. I did a little superficial research on the web
about the reasons people read (after all, it is the only
genre I've never dipped into at all). I found everything
from Leave me alone I like it to Everyone deserves some
cheerful endings to a farily comprehensive 2019 piece in Vulture by Jaime Greene . The big idea for me was Greene's
comparison of all the explicit sex in male-written books
(often about sex between agin men and nubile women) that
everyone considers literature to romance novel sex. I assume
there is some difference in writing style, other topics and
themes involved, but I saw myself in Greene's typical
"serious" reader who boasts they've never read romance. Thus
I have always disdained romance novels without reading
them and ignoring the fact that it is a woman
dominated genre.
So now I have to read some romance. I plan to do a
conventional, say, Regency romance, but I started with When
Katie Met Cassidy by Camille Perri--see below for my response. It's a light Lesbian love story, clever with an interesting
world to explore. More anon, when I've actually dipped in
more toes.
Meanwhile thanks to people who shared suggestions for this
issue (Tinashe Chiura for some starter books about Africa ; Troy Hill who put me onto Faulkner as a
detective writer. and especially DIane Simmons for her
review of The Splendid and
the Vile by Erik
Larson .)
.
.
Zenzele: A Letter
for My Daughter by J. Nozipo Maraire
This is one of the works given to me for an introduction to
Africa and African literature by a young woman I met at the
Clark art museum this summer.
I have of course read a little: Chinua Achebe's
novels and Wole
Soyinka's memoir; books by the amazing Chimamanda
Ngozi Adichie and a handful of other writers from various
African nations (mostly Nigerians?), but this new list came
from a young woman with connections both to the States and
to Zimbabwe as well as the rest of Africa. Her first
suggestions was a satiric article on How
to Write about Africa. an essay first published in Granta by Binyavanga
Wainaina.
Then she suggested this 1996 novel by Dr. J. Nozipo
Maraire, a book that is often used in introductory African
studies courses. It is the only novel by Maraire, a
multi-talented Zimbabwean neurosurgeon and entrepreneur. It
is a wonderful book, concise, in the voice of a character
addressing her daughter who has gone to study in the United
States. I assume it is a fictional version of a letter Dr.
Maraire's mother never wrote–based on family history and
family stories, and including family complexities, including
the tensions between generations To learn more about Dr.
Maraire, click
here.
There are lots of other tensions and connections that light
up this excellent work: the narrator's' younger sister
becomes a freedom fighter during the struggle against
colonialism that changed Rhodesia to Zimbabwe. There is
information about the damage done by bigotry and
colonialism, but there is also a wonderful trickster cousin
who works as a servant in the home of a government official
and repeatedly copies files and plans, sometimes in great
danger to herself, but always with good cheer and excellent
story-telling.
There is also a family friend (probably a cousin too?) who
is the great hope of the village, who goes to England to
become a doctor--and fails to get his degree, and doesn't
come back until his mother is dying. He is in language,
affect, clothing--and with his white wife--like an
Englishman, and his mother and the village are horrified. He
won't speak his native language, and he won't touch his
mother. It's a grim story, and how it differs from the
narrator's determination to keep her daughter grounded even
as she goes away to study. This is perhaps the most powerful
messages in the book--that we don't have to reject our past
or the future. There are ways to live with both.
The most powerful thing, of course, is complexity: this is
what fiction does that no other form can–to show, with
sympathy, completely different viewpoints and life styles.
There are a couple of outstanding passages: the failed
doctor's return; but also a scene in Europe where the
narrator faces the soft (or fairly soft) bigotry of an
Italian countess-socialite. Three sister-cousins preparing
goat and tripe dishes for a village party and talking about
politics is quite lovely too. The whole connection of urban
and village by blood and memory and responsibility to visit
and participate in celebrations and mourning was striking to
me, the sense of being part of something very human and very
large.
It's a wonderful book that has a broad view and, yes, may
be the best introduction to the complexities and passions of
modern Africa, not just Zimbabwe.
.
.
.
.
The
Splendid and the Vile: A Saga of Churchill, Family, and
Defiance During the Blitz by Erik Larson Reviewed by
Diane Simmons
My plan was to save this book to read on a long trip, but
I snarfed it all up it before the trip even started. It is
that delicious, with literary journalist Erik Larson using
diary entries, letters, and other documents to show us
Churchill before and during war.
It's a fun read. Still I learned something about Churchill
that I hadn't really understood. His absolute thrill with
the excitement of the war meant that he would not dream of
making a deal with Germany, as the Germans so completely
expected him to do. And, somehow—at least if the materials
available to Larson are to be trusted-- he conveyed his
excitement at being at the center of a conflict for ages to
the British public who rose so famously to the occasion.
Splendid.
I was also taken with the way in which, even in the darkest
days, the social whirl that surrounded Churchill and his
class continued. The partying continued every weekend at
Chequers though his being there was nightmarishly dangerous.
Then, on one memorable evening, Churchill's young adult
daughter, Mary, travelled with friends to a London club;
they were excited to see a popular entertainer. But the club
took a direct hit and the entertainer was decapitated. At
the same time, many nearby flats were destroyed. Evening
spoiled? Not at all. Mary and her friends located another
club where they danced until dawn.
I paused to see how I felt about this. The pluck that won
the war? Or shocking disregard by the privileged class for
the suffering of those who had just been bombed?
But Larson does not remain always in Britain. Goering seems
to have left a nice paper trail, and Larsen's mockery of
this fat fool (vile) is entertaining: his certainty that he
had Britain in his pocket; his greed for stolen art; his
ludicrous costumes that he wore to prance about his hunting
lodge. Given that we won, and Goering ended up taking a
cyanide capsule, it is all great fun.
Here's a problem, though, that I had with the book. The
RAF, seen with excitement at the beginning, gets dropped.
What happened? Were there not enough letters and papers for
the author to draw from? Are they still top secret? Did the
author of so many similar books of research and reportage,
just get tired of the whole military thing. I had to find
another book—a "real" history, as I said to myself—to learn
more on this story.
Still, it's a great read. You don't want to miss Churchill
dictating to long suffering typists from his bath and
appearing in company in a blue silk romper, especially
designed for his taste and comfort
.
.
The History
of Henry Esmond by William Makepeace Thackery
I had a lot of trouble getting through parts of Thackery's
(probably) second-most famous novel (after Vanity Fair).
I'm a fan of Vanity Fair, although I've always found
it a bit cool, and of course I generally love the Victorians
and feel comfortable with the writing and the world, but I
realize reading this that I'm not such a fan of Victorians
doing history: I like George Eliot's Romola better
than most readers do, but it doesn't hold a candle to her
novels set in her near past, especially the rural world where
she was a girl.
This one is set during the War of the Spanish Succession, and
while Thackery clearly
loves and hates his morality-challenged heroine in Vanity
Fair, he seems somewhat more interested in Henry Esmond
as a theory, a what if. The beauteous Beatrix Esmond is
another one who is out of control with her desire for power,
and of course all she has to play with is her beauty and
charm, and I don't think Thackery feels nearly as much for her
as for Becky Sharpe. On the other hand, there is the really
nifty and somewhat shocking choice of who Henry actually
marries--not a spoiler because there is a fictional preface by
Henry's daughter that tells all the surprises, namely who
Henry actually marries--not Beatrix but Beatrix's mother, and
a mothering figure in Henry's life..
The plot is interesting (see Rich Horton's 2017 review here) or the Wikipedia entry.
So it's set during the reigns of William and Mary and then
Anne, and there's a sense Thackery is enjoying the putative
looser morals of the days of Restoration England. The plot is
full of the young rake who should or should not have been
king, Anne's younger brother James known as the Old
Pretender,.
But once the Old Pretender plot gets going, I was fine. It
was the endless War of the Spanish Succession that I had
trouble following, and Thackery's assumption that we all know
about the Duke of Marlborough, which we don't anymore.
There are a lot of real life characters making
appearances--Jonathan Swift, and Addison and Steele as well as
the politically and royal personages.
The first third, about Henry the supposed bastard boy who
has to decide between Catholicism and Protestantism, is
excellent, and I liked the final third when politics and love
and Henry's sacrifice come together so well. It's the end of
Henry's fascination with Beatrix, and the end of the Stuart
dynasty. The British got the German Hanovers instead, all the
and eventually Victoria and the Windsors.
I'll have to reread it someday after I know more of the
history.
.
.
.
.
Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart
Booker Prize/National Book Award Finalists don't always
do it for me, but Shuggie Bain deserves its
accolades. It was suggested to me as a book about a growing
up gay in Glasgow, but Shuggie's gayness is in many ways the
least of what the book's about. The story is about a family
and alcoholism and the limitations put on women in a certain
society and the poverty that comes with these things. Agnes is
the alcoholic mom, and she has two children with a solid man she left for a
thrilling Lothario type, Shuggie's dad. Big Shug is a bounder
to be kind, but he is also run ragged by the demands on his
overworked male plumbing as he chases anything, as we say,
with skirts.
The POV is usually Shuggie, occasionally Agnes, but Stuart
also comfortably uses a semi-omniscient viewpoint. He will see
Agnes in one of her black-outs through the eyes of a potential
lover, or he follows Big Shug for a while as he seduces
various women but also gets caught by them. He's a big talker
who can't get ahead in life, at least partly because of his
sexual adventures.
There is also, of course, an economic and housing system
feeding the poverty where the story is embedded.
Agnes is pathetic and not really very easy to identify with:
you get a sense of who she might have been during one year
when she is sober and working, but you know it isn't going to
last, partly because of an opening section of Shuggie as a
teen living on his own. She wants to be "posh," and dresses
Shuggie in shiny shoes and blazers, and insists on a more
standard English than most of the people speak, which thus
further victimizes him with the kids on the street and at
school.
Not that he is helped socially in his world by loving My
Little Ponies and having to practice walking like a man. He
even memorizes football scores in hopes of fitting in. His
older siblings run away in their different ways–the sister
marries and moves to South Africa when she's still a teenager;
the talented artistic brother disappears inside himself and
eventually out of the house.
So much goes wrong, and you can feel it hanging over
everyone's future, and yet Glasgow and its suburbs and public
housing somehow come out with a kind of dark beauty like an
Expressionist woodcut that makes the city and the families
attract rive and fascinating.
Shuggie is through most of the book his mother's
care-taker,and eventually achieves a certain limited hope.
The novel has an interesting structural quirk: it begins with
Shuggie in his mid teens, living on his own, away from his
mother, being prey to abusive men, but also holding a job. So
we know he is going to survive at least to that point. Then,
the final short section is set in that same time frame and
location, Shuggie's teens on his own, but we get added to the
situation a friendship that lifts him up so we have hope as
well as despair, companionship as well as loneliness.
Excellent book.
.
When Katie
Met Cassidy by Camille Perri
So this was my first foray into romance
novels. This was published this in 2018, and Perri only has a
couple of novels, but lots of journalism and book reviewing
credits. This novel is about upscale lives in New York City,
both Katie and Cassidy, who alternate point-of-view chapters,
are big-deal corporate lawyers, one a beautiful Kentucky
blonde coming off a break-up with a man that we never can
figure out why she liked, the other an affluent tailored-suit
who is frequently mistaken for a "sir" by random
strangers. There is a lot of internal questioning and big
offices and bars. Beautiful fabrics, large amounts of alcohol,
a fair number of really funny wise-cracks and witticisms.
Cassidy
is the more interesting character with her scorched-earth
picking up and dropping of short term lovers. She is proud of
never falling for anyone seriously, especially a previously
straight woman. Katie just never thought she'd fall for a
woman at all. Katie's newness to Cassidy's world allows us to
be newbies too and explore alongside Katie.
There is a lively selection of Lesbian
characters, many in the food industry, so we get a glance at
that too. There is a lot of bar life at a particular moment in
time on the Lower East Side. There are barriers between our
lovers; there are baby steps toward each other; there are sexy
scenes, mostly the beginning of love making and then a jump
cut to the aftermath.
Perri (by choice or by the rules of her genre)
does an interesting trick of creating an atmosphere of hot
women and Katie looking up the definitions of various sexual
acts--but not much of this is dramatized. Neatly done--and
somehow, you the reader don't feel cheated. You get your
thrills, but the story stays on character, not flailing
bodyparts.
In the end, the romance and where it's going
seems obvious and maybe a little dull. What I really liked was
the wit and the glimpse of a 'loisaida' Lesbian bar
culture. The book is light in the way of being fun and what
I've discovered in the romance trade is called HEA--Happy Ever
After.
Will a hetero romance be this clever and
enjoyable?
I did start an Amish romance novel once, and
that was certainly exotic to me. But I didn't finish that one.
My
Runaway Summer: Escape to the Jersey Shore by Larry
Schardt
Larry Schardt is a teacher at universities and in business
and many other areas where he explores human behaviors and
motivates people to live life to the fullest. In person, he
offers an enormous cheerful grin and a peace sign and
welcomes everyone with "Rock 'n' Roll!!!"
And it works. You just have to smile back.
His writing works the same way. This memoir/autobiographical
novel of his fifteenth year tells about one of his big life
lessons, and he wants to share it with everyone.
His father was physically and verbally abusive, apparently
just to him, not to his several siblings or his mother.
Everyone in the family works, delivering papers or otherwise,
except the frequently drunk father.
So in his fifteenth summer, inspired by the Summer of Love,
Woodstock and many rock songs and groups, he runs away from
home. He hitchhikes with another boy to Ocean City, New
Jersey, even though he really wants to go to Haight Ashbury in
San Francisco.
The adventure is about half fun (he finds a place with
hundreds of musicians and would-be hippies plus lovely girls
to look at and one to love) and half terror of being picked up
by the police along with no money and often no food. He can't
get a job, and it's cold on the various vacationers' porches
where he sleeps. Every morning smells delicious pancakes and
bacon that only give him an ache of hunger.
By the time he gets home, he thinks he is lucky to be alive,
and at the same time lucky to have had his experience. He
writes, "The ideals of the Love Generation made a permanent
home in my heart."
Check it out: a wonderful mix of affection for
his desperate, raw young self and uplifting hope.
.
.
Edvard
Munch: Trembling Earth Exhibit Catalog by various
curators and scholars including Jay A. Clarke, Jill Lloyd,
Trine Otte Bak Nielsen and ArneJohan Vetlesen.
We saw this exhibit at the Clark Museum in Williamstown, MA.
This is the second time that an artist famous for one type of
theme is opened up for me through his landscapes. The first
one, also at the Clark some years ago was the landscapes of
Gustav Klimt. This year, it is Edvard Munch.
Yes, I know, we all think Munch = "The Scream." You can buy
Scream cups and Scream socks and no doubt someone is selling
it on toilet paper. A number of his works as a young man are
about high anxiety and men and women torn apart from love.
These landscapes, still with an edge, some some Expressionist,
some frightening (a series of children and others just outside
looming forests) and some are about life springing from
corpses and crystals and the cycle of life-- are yet grounded
in real places in Norway, and are just stunning.
There are paintings of starry nights just outside
Kristiana/Oslo, and there are shores and beaches and vast high
pine forests and suburban houses and gardens and scenes of
plowing and lumbering. There are also woodcuts different
pressings of the same gardens and houses, and repeats of the
fraught images of a man and a woman or two women, one dead or
representing death.
I loved the exhibit, and the book and its essays and
introductions to sections bring it all back for contemplation
and new insights even when the color and impact are muted by
the format.
.
SHORT
TAKES
The Element of Fire Martha
Wells
This is I believe her first book, free standing, and quite
solid for a first book--it was somewhat slow opening up,
lots of tunics and rapiers and other high fantasy stuff,
castles and a world of Fay. But once it gets rolling, there
are at least three excellent POV characters, especially
Thomas is a near middle age head of the queens guards,
excellent duelist and strategist, many past lovers etc,
including the dowager queen Ravenna who is one of the good
characters, but probably under used.
The other major POV character is Kade, half fay, half the
child of the last king. She's young, not as clear thinking
as she could be, full of surprises. She performs a few too
many unexpected/unexplained magics that probably please
Wells' hard-core fantasy readers,but are minor annoyances to
me.
I was also interested in the present king who along with
Kade was pretty much abused by the previous king while
Ravenna was off winning wars and such. Several good bad
guys, Roland, the king's cousin/Svengali, who has a plan for
betraying and becoming king. That's the fun part. Lot of
ugly monsters, bad and good fairies I mean fay.
Anyhow, she writes very well and keeps me going even with
the too-much fairy stuff.
The Serpent Sea by Martha Wells (Book II Raksura)
I like this Wells series very well, including this book. I
liked the beginning and the end– everything about the
Raksura world and their personalities and politics and
imaginary biology and culture. The magic, as always for me
is ehhh... but I take it as long as it has internal
consistency.
Moon, having found his people and being loved by a "sister
queen" of the Indigo Cloud colony/hive, is our guide through
the worldl--he is both important to it and new to it. The
genders are bent, nothing too kinky really, but interesting
variations based on real
life fauna: sterile males who are warriors, huge powerful
queens who lose their temper and kill each other a lot. A
non-flying caste or perhaps other genus of the species who
do most creative work like gardening, art, child care. These
and warriors are both male and female. Anyhow, I love all
the anthropology part, and the neat relationship between
Moon the young consort and huge old incredibly strong and
smart line-grandfather Stone.
So, for a plot, the decimated survivors of the colony find
a new home, a "mountain tree" that is actually their
ancestral home. Then they discover their tree is dying
because someone has stolen the "seed," without which the
giant tree rots and dies. So Moon, Jade, Stone and others go
on a quest to find the seed.
Now there are lots of new people and races and magic and
danger and etc. They come across a city build on a leviathan
in a freshwater sea. Some of it is probably Wells setting us
up for the next several books, but I sped up my reading,
just wanted to know how they got out of it all, who lived
and who died.
Once they get the seed, they go home with a final challenge
from another, larger Raksura colony where Moon got everyone
into trouble. And then they get to go home.
I especially enjoy the snippy/dangerously strong/low
boiling point queens consorts and warrior castes. There is
relatively little actual killing, given how much arguing and
posturing and even fighting they do. Also, Wells handles
well the story element that many languages are spoken, but
everyone in the novel seems to be translated into a sort of
well-educated American teenager–not a lot of slang, but a
light tone. It probably makes the characters more likeable
than they might be if they sounded more mature.
Rules of
Prey by John Sandford
Looking for a new Harry Bosch, but Lucas Davenport isn't
the guy. I liked the serial killer "maddog" better for his
clarity of purpose: to play the game against respectable
foes, to fullfil his need to kill--his "Chosen ones,"
versions of his mom.
Hero Lucas Davenport has to get more interesting for me to
stick with this series, though--more than a handful of
quirks and preferences and skills. This was okay reading for
a distracted week and a half of family, child care, cooking
and cleaning. I'll try another and then see. It never pulled
me in.
But honestly, Lucas had less inner life thant the maddog.
Right: Mark Harmon as Lucas Davenport in t.v. series.
TWO NERO WOLFE BOOKS
Fer-de-lance by Rex Stout
This was the very first Nero Wolfe mystery novel, published
in1934! It was at the end of prohibition, no second world
war yet. So long ago, and full of details of an older New
York. Sullivan Street is a rough neighborhood with noisy
Italian kids. There are the usual rich people on estates up
in Westchester County, There are two murders for our
super-size P.I. to solve, one on the golf course, one a
murder of a working class person. The two murders merge by
the end.
The amazing thing to me is how everything has sprung full
grown and full blown as it were from the novelist's
forehead: the sedentary genius Wolfe, Archie who has only
been with him for 7 years. Fritz the cook and occasional
butler, Horstmann in the orchid rooms, even Saul Panzer and
Orrie Cather and Fred Durkin. The cops are up in White
Plains, though, no Cramer, although Purley Stebbins makes a
brief appearance.
Another difference is that there is no final revelation in
the office, and there is a little material at the end from
Stout's files: brief descriptions of Wolfe and Archie who
are supposedly 56 and 32 respectively.
It is, like the other early ones, somehow gayer, with more
elaborate language, Wolfe explains his reasoning a little
more, his dramatic side and his feelings about things are
more pronounced. He presents himself as someone who works
from hunches. I don't' think this is quite as obvious in
later books. He also stages an elaborate prank-robbery with
masks and empty guns.
Oh, and in this one, Wolfe moves from pitchers of beer from
barrels in the basement to bottles!
The perp is revealed maybe four fifths of the way in, and
is respected for intelligence and care in his crime.
Catching him, using the dramas and ruses, is done pretty
much on stage.
It is more elaborate, with higher spirits, probably longer
than later books, but oh-so-familiar. Old snapshots in a
family album.
Black
Orchids by Rex Stout
Two Nero Wolfe novellas, published in 1941 and '42, very
energetic. It's as if Stout is still excited about the whole
premise--even thought all the pieces are already in place:
the orchid room, Fritz Brenner the cook, the apoplectic
Inspector Cramer, all Wolfe's extra operatives. and above
all Nero Wolfe himself and his wise cracking Boswell, Archie
Goodwin.
I had a lot of fun. The novellas are quite light, even
though number two has some pretty gory descriptions of death
by tetanus. Archie's language explorations are more
elaborate than I remember. In the first one, Wolfe leaves
his house to go to a flower show and see the black orchids,
and of course there's a murder that endangers his routine.
In the second one, Wolfe sends flowers to a funeral and
Archie still doesn't know why. I wonder if there's any
reference to that in later books.
.
WHERE
TO START READING ABOUT AFRICA, A SHORT LIST FROM Tinashe
Chiura
Black is the Journey, Africana the Name by
Maboula Soumahoro
Zenzele: A Letter For My Daughter by J. Nozipo
Maraire
Nervous Conditions: A Novel by Tsitsi Dangarembga
(First of a trilogy)
.
.
.
INTERVIEW
An Interview with Charles Foran by John P. Loonam
This interview was first published in The
Independent on July 18, 2023
Just Once, No More opens
before you were born with a story of your father facing
down and killing a bear. Why start there?
A defining characteristic of our species is that we look
for meanings to our lives while we are living them.
Individual ego narratives born of roads not taken,
existential "aha" moments, tragedies foretold and unfolding.
We do this as though we are, what, exceptions to the
planetary rules of impersonality? Mini gods? I think we are
storytelling animals because we are thinking about ourselves
being ourselves all the time. We are hopelessly, helplessly
self-aware and — because we are engaged in this grinding
metacognition — under the impression we steer the ships of
our lives.
To keep up this sweet fiction involves imagination and
exaggeration; in other words, telling stories that portray
us in heroic mode. My father withheld most of the key
details that defined his experience of being in his own skin
until his final months on earth. Or he did so with me, at
least. But the killing-the-bear tale was one he was happy to
share with his son over and over, starting when I was a boy.
A man alone in the bush, solitary and defiant, confronting a
fearsome creature on a moonlit path. That is the story my
father wanted me to appreciate and to remember. As I was
embarking on a meditation, via a father-son relationship, on
who we are until we are no longer, I decided to open the
book with his heroic narrative largely to honor it and him.
While the memoir focuses on your father's death,
you also discuss the death of your friend, the painter
David Bierk. Is he acting as a companion to your father? A
counterpoint?
For sure, I wanted to eulogize David Bierk in the book — as
I wanted to eulogize Dave Foran. During the short time I
knew David Bierk, he was in [the] late stages [of] leukemia.
For every minute of every day, he radiated only optimism and
excitement about the future. Yet the late paintings of his I
found most arresting were these landscapes that tilted
clearly into the post-human. This devotion to painting
himself out of the picture, in effect, was very moving — why
we make art in the twilight of our lives. Twenty years
later, I am even more astonished by how David managed his
leave-taking, as both an artist and a man.
You organize the memoir through juxtaposition
rather than chronology. What did that offer you?
The book wants to show a mind in motion. It wants to
capture how we circle our preoccupations, the sadness and
joy that keep us awake at night. The structure, designed to
regulate the mayhem of metacognition, is of a bicycle wheel:
12 chapters, or spokes, before my father's death, and 12
chapters/spokes afterwards. In the middle lies the hub of
his final days. The reader should enjoy the motion, the
movement, more than the destination. Around and around we
go, right? Especially, I think, as we age.
'The book contrasts your father's refusal to look
at his past with your own stories of things that didn't
actually happen — like the disastrous hike with your
daughter. How is your fiction related to your father's
silence?
I sometimes wonder if deep trauma inhibits the healthy flow
of fancy, of conjecture, of looking up ahead — or looking
back — without instinctive anxiety and dread. My father, who
experienced trauma as a boy, kept largely silent about both
past and future, almost as though he was perpetually playing
a bad hand of cards and needed to keep them close to his
chest. Lucky me, I am largely trauma-free and almost too
willing to show my cards. (See below.) At a guess,
traumatized people make better card players.
How does your own health affect your relationship
to the book?
Just Once, No More unfolds between 2015 and
2018. Towards the end of the narrative, I am diagnosed with
coronary disease and have five stents put in my heart. I
write about this upset and meditate on how I am changed by
it. Then, in February of 2023, while the book was being
printed, the stents collapsed, and I underwent a triple
bypass. Bypasses are startling bodily intrusions. They tend
to occlude all light around them. For the first few weeks
after the operation, I couldn't remember much about what I
had written. Life had, in turn, occluded art, showed it who
casts the BIG shadow. Now, with health returned and time
passed, I am seeing more balance. Life just goes on. Art
just stops. Or is it the other way around?
The anecdotes in Just Once, No More frequently involve places with great views — the Dun
Aengus, the mountain trail with your daughter, the windows
of your office. Why is great height important?
Apparently, most people aren't afraid of being dead. It's
the dying that triggers the terrors. From atop a cliff, a
mountain, a high floor in an office building, you sense how
astonishing and beautiful the world is. Also, how
impersonal: It really isn't about you, about us. Anyway,
then you take a wrong step, lean out too far, have a heart
attack, and you plunge downwards. The fall is about you and
is terrifying.
Your physical memory of your father centers on the
freckles of his forearm — not more conventional choices
like his face or his eyes. Why are those freckles so
vivid?
As a kid, I sat in my father's lap imagining I was a ship
navigating the islands of freckles along his forearms. As an
adult, I had those same freckle archipelagos available for
my daughters to navigate. In the book, I write about "the
movement of blood and memory through bodies and time." I
call this movement a "seam" and note how it keeps opening
and closing. Jump in, jump out. Appear, disappear, reappear.
Everyone is under the impression that faces and eyes are
defining. No one thinks this about skin. But skin is what we
are all in. And boy, are we all in it.
.
Charles Foran is the author of 12 books of
fiction and nonfiction, including the bestselling biography
of Mordecai Richler, Mordecai: The Life & Times, and
the novel Planet Lolita. His work has won major
literary awards, including the Hilary Weston Prize and the
Governor General's Literary Award, the Taylor Prize, a
Canadian Jewish Book Award, and two QSPELL prizes. His new
work is Just Once, No More : On Fathers, Sons, and Who
We Are Until We Are No Foran lives in Toronto.
.
John P. Loonam has a Ph.D. in American
literature from the City University of New York and taught
English in New York City public schools for over 35 years.
He has published fiction in various journals and
anthologies, and his short plays have been featured by the
Mottola Theater Project several times. He is married and the
father of two sons; the four have lived in Brooklyn long
enough to be considered natives by anyone but his neighbors.
.
MORE
RECOMMENDATIONS & READER
RESPONSES
Troy Hill writes: "I just finished
Faulkner's novella/story collection Knight's Gambit.
I'm not even sure why it's been on my shelf for a few years.
Maybe it was in a giveaway pile. It's Faulkner doing the
detective story format, but instead of a detective, it's his
Yoknapatawpha county lawyer Gavin Stevens getting to the
bottom of things. I thought it was delightful. Plotty, but
that's the format. And still so Faulkner."
.
.
GOOD
READING & LISTENING & &N LOOKING ONLINE AND OFF!
Thanks to Tinashe Chiura for sending us to
this hilarious and grim article (originally in Granta 92)
called "How
to Write About Africa" by Binyavanga Wainaina. See above
for her list of books about Africa.
Jane Friedman of Electric
Speed (which I recommend for writers!) suggests
two newsletters for reading ideas:
The Washington
Review of Books -- a round-up of book reviews,
literary culture, and more.
The Sunday Long Read -- a newsletter about longform journalism. They also
publish, pay, and accept pitches.
Dua Lipa is an Albanian-English
twenty-somethihg pop singer who is diversifying into life
style recommendations a la Gwyneth Paltrow. She has an interesting and diverse list that includes My
Brilliant Friend and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's
Nest and even Edith Wharton's The Age of
Innocence-- a lot of semi-classic and indeed excellent
novels. She has an interview with Chimamanda Ngozie
Adichie (the August 2023 book was Half
Of A Yellow Sun ), and Adichie
offers her own reading list. She also recommends Shuggie Bain, reviewed above.
.
.
Heather Cox Richardson has a blog on
politics at Substack that I like, especially for how her
historian's studies of the Reconstruction era continue to shed
light on current events. This
particular entry is about a fundamental difference between
two views of labor from the late 1850's that she thinks
have a lot of relevance today. It starts with a Senator named
James Henry Hammond who explains that “In all social
systems,...there must be a class to do the menial duties, to
perform the drudgery of life....Such a class you must have, or
you would not have that other class which leads progress,
civilization and refinement,” Hammond then tells his northern
colleagues that they use so-called free labor, but the South
had proudly perfected the system by enslavement based on race.
Try to control your heaving stomach. Later in the entry, she
quotes an up-and-coming Abraham Lincoln, who says that “[l]abor is prior to, and independent of, capital;
that, in fact, capital is the fruit of labor, and could
never have existed if labor had not first existed—that labor
can exist without capital, but that capital could never have
existed without labor."
Try to get hold of the Summer 2023 issue of Goldenseal:
West Virginia Traditional Life available from The
Cultural Center, 1900 Kanawha Blvd. East, Charleston, WV
25305. Lots of good stuff as always, but don't miss Edwina
Pendarvis's piece on the fascinating Phyllis
Wilson Moore, "Heroine of West Virginia
Literature."
A new Substack piece from Joe
Chuman.
ESPECIALLY
FOR WRITERS: Links and More
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Dreama Wyant
Frisk placed in a poetry contest "Tiny Poems"
sponsored by Washington
Writers. org, who said of the poem that it is "a
beautiful...searing one!!" Here's the poem:
In Yemen, After the Shelling
I am your father and, I will be your leg,
The laborer told his daughter,
Her leg broken and brother killed.
Also, Dreama Wyant Frisk's earlier collection, Ivory
Hollyhock, which is held in reserve at the
Arlington Central Library in Arlington, Virginia, won
first prize for poetry, 2011.
.
This looks interesting--another cheap hit
of hilarity from Ayun Halliday:
https://www.ayunhalliday.com/
Porch
Poems from Sheila-Na-Gig
Editions by Cheryl
Denise, Susanna Connelly Holstein, Kirk Judd and Sherrell Runnion Wigal is a collection of poems by old
friend poems who gathered to laugh, cook, swing, and write
in the mountains.
Paul Éluard writes of Linda Parsons' new
collection Valediction: Poems and Prose from
Madville Publishing, "There is another world and
it is in this one." Within these worlds, we travel outward
and inward, straddling our lives' oppositions:
parental/relationship struggle and loss, home and away,
isolation and reconnection, the spiritual/mystical realm
and physicality—always balancing grief and reemergence,
hello and goodbye. The hybrid nature of Linda Parsons'
sixth collection, Valediction, with poems,
diptychs, and micro essays, brings those oppositions into
focus and reconciliation and grounds her in the earth
under her feet, especially in her gardening meditations.
In this striving, we are balanced and grounded with her as
she lifts the veil on what it means to live and create
fully, even in the face of impermanence.
Just Published--in Persian!
My novel for children Billie of Fish House Lane. See
announcement here. The Iran Book News Agency
(IBNA) has just announced that "Juvenile fiction book Billie
of Fish House Lane by American author Meredith
Sue Willis has been published in Persian and is
available to Iranian Children."
.
BUYING
BOOKS MENTIONED IN THIS NEWSLETTER
If a book discussed in this newsletter has
no source mentioned, don’t forget that you may be able to
borrow it from your public library as either a hard copy
or as an e-book. You may also buy
or order from your local independent bookstore. To
find a bricks-and-mortar store, click the "shop indie"
logo left.
A new not-for-profit alternative to
Amazon.com is Bookshop.org which sends a percentage of every sale to a pool for
brick-and-mortar bookstores. You may also direct the
donation to a bookstore of your choice. Lots of
individuals have storefronts there, too including
me.
I have a lot of friends and colleagues who
despise Amazon. There is a discussion about some of the
issues back in Issue # 184, as well as even older comments from Jonathan
Greene and others here.
The largest unionized bookstore in America
has a web store at Powells
Books. Some people prefer shopping online there to
shopping at Amazon.com. An
alternative way to reach Powell's site and support the
union is via http://www.powellsunion.com.
Prices are the same but 10% of your purchase will go to
support the union benefit fund.
Another way to buy books online, especially
used books, is to use Bookfinder or Alibris.
Bookfinder gives the price with shipping and handling, so
you can see what you really have to pay. Another source
for used and out-of-print books is All
Book Stores.
Also consider Paperback
Book Swap, a postage-only way to trade books with
other readers.
Ingrid Hughes suggests "a great place for
used books which sometimes turn out to be never-opened
hard cover books is Biblio. She says, "I've bought many books from them, often for $4 including shipping."
If you are using an electronic reader (all
kinds), don't forget free books at the Gutenberg
Project—mostly classics (copyrights pre-1927), and
free, free, free!
Kobobooks.com sells e-books for independent brick-and-mortar bookstores.
More and more public libraries are now
offering electronic books for borrowing as well.
RESPONSES TO THIS NEWSLETTER
Please send responses to this newsletter
directly to Meredith
Sue Willis . Unless you say otherwise, your letter
may be edited for length and published in this newsletter.
BACK ISSUES click here.
LICENSE
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BACK ISSUES:
#229 John Sandford, Dr. J. Nozipo Maraire, Rex Stout; Larry Schardt; Martha
Wells; Henry Makepeace Thackery; about Edvard Munch;Erik Larson. Reviews and interviews by John Loonam and Diane Simmons.
#228 Edward P. Jones, Denton Loving, Honorée Fanonne Jeffers. Lee Martin, Jesmyn Ward, Michelle Zauner, Valérie Perrin, Philip K. Dick, Burt Kimmelman. Reviewes by Ernie Brill, Joe Chuman, Eddy Pendarvis, Diane Simmons, & Danny Williams.
#227 Cheryl Denise, Larissa Shmailo, Eddy Pendarvis, Alice McDermott, Kelly Watt, Elmore Leonard, Frances Hodgson Burnett, Suzy McKee Charnas, and more.
#226 Jim Minick, Gore Vidal, Valeria Luiselli, Richard Wright, Kage Baker, Suzy McKee Charnas, Victor Depta, Walter Mosley. David Hollinger reviewed by Joe Chuman, and more.
#225 Demon Copperhead, Thomas Hardy, Miriam Toews, Kate Chopin, Alberto Moravia, Elizabeth Strout, McCullers, Garry Wills, Valerie Nieman, Cora Harrison. Troy Hill on Isaac Babel; Belinda Anderson on books for children; Joe Chuman on Eric Alterman; Molly Gilman on Kage Baker; and lots more.
#224 The 1619 Project, E.M. Forster. Elmore Leonard, Pledging Season by Erika Erickson Malinoski. Emily St. John Mandel, Val Nieman, John O'Hara, Tom Perrotta, Walter Tevis, Sarah Waters, and more.
#223 Amor Towles, Emily St. John Mandel, Raymond Chandler, N.K. Jemisin, Andrew Holleran, Anita Diamant, Rainer Maria Rilke, and more, plus notes and reviews by Joe Chuman, George Lies, Donna Meredith, and Rhonda Browning White.
#222 Octavia Butler, Elizabeth Gaskell, N.K. Jemisin, Joseph Lash, Alice Munro, Barbara Pym, Sally Rooney, and more.
#221 Victor Serge, Greg Sanders, Maggie O'Farrell, Ken Champion, Barbara Hambly, Walter Mosely, Anne Roiphe, Anna Reid, Randall Balmer, Louis Auchincloss. Reviews by Joe Chuman and Chris Connelly
#220 Margaret Atwood, Sister Souljah, Attica Locke, Jill Lepore, Belinda Anderson, Claire Oshetsky, Barbara Pym, and Reviews by Joe Chuman, Ed Davis, and Eli Asbury
#219 Carolina De Robertis, Charles Dickens, Thomas Fleming, Kendra James, Ashley Hope Perez, Terry Pratchett, Martha Wells. Reviews by Joe Chuman and Danny Williams.
#218 Ed Myers, Eyal Press, Barbara Kingsolver, Edwidge Danticat, William Trevor, Tim O'Brien. Reviews by Joe Chuman and Marc Harshman.
#217 Jill Lepore; Kathleen Rooney; Stendhal; Rajia Hassib again; Madeline Miller; Jean Rhys; and more. Reviews and recommendations by Joe Chuman, Ingrid Hughes, Peggy Backman, Phyllis Moore, and Dan Gover.
#216 Rajia Hassib; Joel Pechkam; Robin Hobb; Anne Hutchinson; James Shapiro; reviews by Joe Chuman and Marc Harshman; Fellowship of the Rings#215 Julia Alvarez, Karen Salyer McElmurray, Anne Brontë, James Welch, Veronica Roth, Madeline Martin, Barack Obama, Jason Trask, Katherine Anne Porter & more
#214 Brit Bennet, Oyinkan Braithwaite, Robin Hobb, Willliam Kennedy, John Le Carré, John Loonam on Elana Ferrante, Carole Rosenthal on Philip Roth, Peggy Backman on Russell Shorto, Helen Weinzweig, Marguerite Yourcenar, and more.
#213 Pauletta Hansen reviewed by Bonnie Proudfoot; A conversation about cultural appropriation in fiction; T.C. Boyle; Eric Foner; Attica Locke; Lillian Roth; The Snake Pit; Alice Walker; Lynda Schor; James Baldwin; True Grit--and more.
#212 Reviews of books by Madison Smartt Bell, James Lee Burke, Mary Arnold Ward,Timothey Huguenin, Octavia Butler, Cobb & Seaton, Schama
#211 Reviews of books by Lillian Smith, Henry James, Deborah Clearman, J.K. Jemisin, Donna Meredith, Octavia Butler, Penelope Lively, Walter Mosley. Poems by Hilton Obenzinger.
#210 Lavie Tidhar, Amy Tan, Walter Mosley, Gore Vidal, Julie Otsuka, Rachel Ingalls, Rex Stout, John Updike, and more.
#209 Cassandra Clare, Lissa Evans, Suzan Colón, Damian Dressick, Madeline Ffitch, Dennis Lehane, William Maxwell, and more.
#208 Alexander Chee; Donna Meredith; Rita Quillen; Mrs. Humphy Ward; Roger Zelazny; Dennis LeHane; Eliot Parker; and more.
#207 Caroline Sutton, Colson Whitehead, Elaine Durbach, Marc Kaminsky, Attica Locke, William Makepeace Thackery, Charles Willeford & more.
#206 Timothy Snyder, Bonnie Proudfoot, David Weinberger, Pat Barker, Michelle Obama, Richard Powers, Anthony Powell, and more.
#205 George Eliot, Ernest Gaines, Kathy Manley, Rhonda White; reviews by Jane Kimmelman, Victoria Endres, Deborah Clearman.
#204 Larissa Shmailo, Joan Didion, Judith Moffett, Heidi Julavits, Susan Carol Scott, Trollope, Walter Mosley, Dorothy B. Hughes, and more.
#203 Tana French, Burt Kimmelman, Ann Petry, Mario Puzo, Anna Egan Smucker, Virginia Woolf, Val Nieman, Idra Novey, Roger Wall.
#202 J .G. Ballard, Peter Carey, Arthur Dobrin, Lisa Haliday, Birgit Mazarath, Roger Mitchell, Natalie Sypolt, and others.
#201 Marc Kaminsky, Jessica Wilkerson, Jaqueline Woodson, Eliot Parker, Barbara Kingsolver. Philip Roth, George Eliot and more.
#200 Books by Zola, Andrea Fekete, Thomas McGonigle, Maggie Anderson, Sarah Dunant, J.G. Ballard, Sarah Blizzard Robinson, and more.
#199 Reviews by Ed Davis and Phyllis Moore. Books by Elizabeth Strout, Thomas Mann, Rachel Kushner, Craig Johnson, Richard Powers and more.
#198 Reviews by Belinda Anderson, Phyllis Moore, Donna Meredith, Eddy Pendarvis, and Dolly Withrow. Eliot, Lisa Ko, John Ehle, Hamid, etc.
#197 Joan Silber, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Alexander Hamilton, Eudora Welty, Middlemarch yet again, Greta Ehrlich, Edwina Pendarvis.
#196 Last Exit to Brooklyn; Joan Didion; George Brosi's reviews; Alberto Moravia; Muriel Rukeyser; Matthew de la Peña; Joyce Carol Oates
#195 Voices for Unity; Ramp Hollow, A Time to Stir, Patti Smith, Nancy Abrams, Conrad, N.K. Jemisin, Walter Mosely & more.
#194 Allan Appel, Jane Lazarre, Caroline Sutton, Belinda Anderson on children's picture books.
#193 Larry Brown, Phillip Roth, Ken Champion, Larissa Shmailo, Gillian Flynn, Jack Wheatcroft, Hilton Obenziner and more.
#192 Young Adult books from Appalachia; Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse; Michael Connelly; Middlemarch; historical murders in Appalachia.
#191 Oliver Sacks, N.K. Jemisin, Isabella and Ferdinand and their descendents, Depta, Highsmith, and more.
#190 Clearman, Eyes Glowing at the Edge of the Woods, Doerr, Octavia Butler, Colson Whitehead, Miss Fourth of July, Goodbye and more.
#189 J.D. Vance; Mitch Levenberg; Phillip Lopate; Barchester Towers; Judith Hoover; ; Les Liaisons Dangereuses; short science fiction reviews.
#188 Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban; The Hemingses of Monticello; Marc Harshman; Jews in the Civil War; Ken Champion; Rebecca West; Colum McCann
#187 Randi Ward, Burt Kimmelman, Llewellyn McKernan, Sir Walter Scott, Jonathan Lethem, Bill Luvaas, Phyllis Moore, Sarah Cordingley & more
#186 Diane Simmons, Walter Dean Myers, Johnny Sundstrom, Octavia Butler & more
#185 Monique Raphel High; Elizabeth Jane Howard; Phil Klay; Crystal Wilkinson
#184 More on Amazon; Laura Tillman; Anthony Trollope; Marily Yalom and the women of the French Revolution; Ernest Becker
#183 Hilton Obenzinger, Donna Meredith, Howard Sturgis, Tom Rob Smith, Daniel José Older, Elizabethe Vigée-Lebrun, Veronica Sicoe
#182 Troy E. Hill, Mitchell Jackson, Rita Sims Quillen, Marie Houzelle, Frederick Busch, more Dickens
#181 Valerie Nieman, Yorker Keith, Eliot Parker, Ken Champion, F.R. Leavis, Charles Dickens
#180 Saul Bellow, Edwina Pendarvis, Matthew Neill Null, Judith Moffett, Theodore Dreiser, & more
#179 Larissa Shmailo, Eric Frizius, Jane Austen, Go Set a Watchman and more
#178 Ken Champion, Cat Pleska, William Demby's Beetlecreek, Ron Rash, Elizabeth Gaskell, and more.
#177 Jane Hicks, Daniel Levine, Constance Fenimore Woolson, Ken Chamption, Patricia Harman
#176 Robert Gipe, Justin Torres, Marilynne Robinson, Velma Wallis, Larry McMurty, Charlotte Brontë, Henry James, Fumiko Enchi, Shelley Ettinger
#175 Lists of what to read for the new year; MOUNTAIN MOTHER GOOSE: CHILD LORE OF WEST VIRGINIA; Peggy Backman
#174 Christian Sahner, John Michael Cummings, Denton Loving, Madame Bovary
#173 Stephanie Wellen Levine, S.C. Gwynne, Ed Davis's Psalms of Israel Jones, Quanah Parker, J.G. Farrell, Lubavitcher girls
#172 Pat Conroy, Donna Tartt, Alice Boatwright, Fumiko Enchi, Robin Hobb, Rex Stout
#171 Robert Graves, Marie Manilla, Johnny Sundstrom, Kirk Judd
#170 John Van Kirk, Carter Seaton,Neil Gaiman, Francine Prose, The Murder of Helen Jewett, Thaddeus Rutkowski
#169 Pearl Buck's The Exile and Fighting Angel; Larissa Shmailo; Liz Lewinson; Twelve Years a Slave, and more
#168 Catherine the Great, Alice Munro, Edith Poor, Mitch Levenberg, Vonnegut, Mellville, and more!
#167 Belinda Anderson; Anne Shelby; Sean O'Leary, Dragon tetralogy; Don Delillo's Underworld
#166 Eddy Pendarvis on Pearl S. Buck; Theresa Basile; Miguel A. Ortiz; Lynda Schor; poems by Janet Lewis; Sarah Fielding
#165 Janet Lewis, Melville, Tosltoy, Irwin Shaw!
#164 Ed Davis on Julie Moore's poems; Edith Wharton; Elaine Drennon Little's A Southern Place; Elmore Leonard
#163 Pamela Erens, Michael Harris, Marlen Bodden, Joydeep Roy-Battacharya, Lisa J. Parker, and more
#162 Lincoln, Joseph Kennedy, Etel Adnan, Laura Treacy Bentley, Ron Rash, Sophie's Choice, and more
#161 More Wilkie Collins; Duff Brenna's Murdering the Mom; Nora Olsen's Swans & Klons; Lady Audley's Secret
#160 Carolina De Robertis, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Ross King's The Judgment of Paris
#159 Tom Jones. William Luvaas, Marc Harshman, The Good Earth, Lara Santoro, American Psycho
#158 Chinua Achebe's Man of the People; The Red and the Black; McCarthy's C.; Farm City; Victor Depta;Myra Shapiro
#157 Alice Boatwright, Reamy Jansen, Herta Muller, Knut Hamsun, What Maisie Knew; Wanchee Wang, Dolly Withrow.
#156 The Glass Madonna; A Revelation
#155 Buzz Bissinger; reader suggestions; Satchmo at the Waldorf
#154 Hannah Brown, Brad Abruzzi, Thomas Merton
#153 J.Anthony Lukas, Talmage Stanley's The Poco Fields, Devil Anse
#152 Marc Harshman guest editor; John Burroughs; Carol Hoenig
#151 Deborah Clearman, Steve Schrader, Paul Harding, Ken Follet, Saramago-- and more!
#150 Mitch Levenberg, Johnny Sundstrom, and Isabel Wilkerson's The Warmth of Other Suns.
#149 David Weinberger's Too Big to Know; The Shining; The Tiger's Wife.
#148 The Moonstone, Djibouti, Mark Perry on the Grimké family
#147 Jane Lazarre's new novel; Johnny Sundstrom; Emotional Medicine Rx; Walter Dean Myers, etc.
#146 Henry Adams AGAIN! Also,Fun Home: a Tragicomic
#145 Henry Adams, Darnell Arnoult, Jaimy Gordon, Charlotte Brontë
#144 Carter Seaton, NancyKay Shapiro, Lady Murasaki Shikibu
#143 Little America; Guns,Germs, and Steel; The Trial
#142 Blog Fiction, Leah by Seymour Epstein, Wolf Hall, etc.
#141 Dreama Frisk on Hilary Spurling's Pearl Buck in China; Anita Desai; Cormac McCarthy
#140 Valerie Nieman's Blood Clay, Dolly Withrow
#139 My Kindle, The Prime Minister, Blood Meridian
#138 Special on Publicity by Carter Seaton
#137 Michael Harris's The Chieu Hoi Saloon; Game of Thrones; James Alexander Thom's Follow the River
#136 James Boyle's The Creative Commons; Paola Corso, Joanne Greenberg, Monique Raphel High, Amos Oz
#135 Reviews by Carole Rosenthal, Jeffrey Sokolow, and Wanchee Wang.
#134 Daniel Deronda, books with material on black and white relations in West Virginia
#133 Susan Carpenter, Irene Nemirovsky, Jonathan Safran Foer, Kanafani, Joe Sacco
#132 Karen Armstrong's A History of God; JCO's The Falls; The Eustace Diamonds again.
#131 The Help; J. McHenry Jones, Reamy Jansen, Jamie O'Neill, Michael Chabon.
#130 Lynda Schor, Ed Myers, Charles Bukowski, Terry Bisson, The Changing Face of Anti-Semitism
#129 Baltasar and Blimunda; Underground Railroad; Navasky's Naming Names, small press and indie books.
#128 Jeffrey Sokolow on Histories and memoirs of the Civil Rights Movement
#127 Olive Kitteridge; Urban fiction; Shelley Ettinger on Joyce Carol Oates
#126 Jack Hussey's Ghosts of Walden, The Leopard , Roger's Version, The Reluctanct Fundamentalist
#125 Lee Maynard's The Pale Light of Sunset; Books on John Brown suggested by Jeffrey Sokolow
#124 Cloudsplitter, Founding Brothers, Obenzinger on Bradley's Harlem Vs. Columbia University
#123 MSW's summer reading round-up; Olive Schreiner; more The Book Thief; more on the state of editing
#122 Left-wing cowboy poetry; Jewish partisans during WW2; responses to "Hire a Book Doctor?"
#121 Jane Lazarre's latest; Irving Howe's Leon Trotsky; Gringolandia; "Hire a Book Doctor?"
#120 Dreama Frisk on The Book Thief; Mark Rudd; Thulani Davis's summer reading list
#119 Two Histories of the Jews; small press books for Summer
#118 Kasuo Ichiguro, Jeanette Winterson, The Carter Family!
#117 Cat Pleska on Ann Pancake; Phyllis Moore on Jayne Anne Phillips; and Dolly Withrow on publicity
#116 Ann Pancake, American Psycho, Marc Harshman on George Mackay Brown
#115 Adam Bede, Nietzsche, Johnny Sundstrom
#114 Judith Moffett, high fantasy, Jared Diamond, Lily Tuck
#113 Espionage--nonfiction and fiction: Orson Scott Card and homophobia
#112 Marc Kaminsky, Nel Noddings, Orson Scott Card, Ed Myers
#111 James Michener, Mary Lee Settle, Ardian Gill, BIll Higginson, Jeremy Osner, Carol Brodtick
#110 Nahid Rachlin, Marion Cuba on self-publishing; Thulani Davis, The Road, memoirs
#109 Books about the late nineteen-sixties: Busy Dying; Flying Close to the Sun; Looking Good; Trespassers
#108 The Animal Within; The Ground Under My Feet; King of Swords
#107 The Absentee; Gorky Park; Little Scarlet; Howl; Health Proxy
#106 Castle Rackrent; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows; More on Drown; Blindness & more
#105 Everything is Miscellaneous, The Untouchable, Kettle Bottom by Diane Gilliam Fisher
#104 Responses to Shelley on Junot Diaz and more; More best books of 2007
#103 Guest Editor: Shelley Ettinger and her best books of 2007
#102 Saramago's BLINDNESS; more on NEVER LET ME GO; George Lies on Joe Gatski
#101 My Brilliant Career, The Scarlet Letter, John Banville, Never Let Me Go
#100 The Poisonwood Bible, Pamela Erens, More Harry P.
#99 Jonathan Greene on Amazon.com; Molly Gilman on Dogs of Babel
#98 Guest editor Pat Arnow; more on the Amazon.com debate
#97 Using Thomas Hardy; Why I Write; more
#96 Lucy Calkins, issue fiction for young adults
#95 Collapse, Harry Potter, Steve Geng
#94 Alice Robinson-Gilman, Maynard on Momaday
#93 Kristin Lavransdatter, House Made of Dawn, Leaving Atlanta
#92 Death of Ivan Ilych; Memoirs
#91 Richard Powers discussion
#90 William Zinsser, Memoir, Shakespeare
#89 William Styron, Ellen Willis, Dune, Germinal, and much more
#88 Sandra Cisneros's Caramelo
#87 Wings of the Dove, Forever After (9/11 Teachers)
#86 Leora Skolkin-Smith, American Pastoral, and more
#85 Wobblies, Winterson, West Virginia Encyclopedia
#84 Karen Armstrong, Geraldine Brooks, Peter Taylor
#83 3-Cornered World, Da Vinci Code
#82 The Eustace Diamonds, Strapless, Empire Falls
#81 Philip Roth's The Plot Against America , Paola Corso
#80 Joanne Greenberg, Ed Davis, more Murdoch; Special Discussion on Memoir--Frey and J.T. Leroy
#79 Adam Sexton, Iris Murdoch, Hemingway
#78 The Hills at Home; Tess of the D'Urbervilles; Jean Stafford
#77 On children's books--guest editor Carol Brodtrick
#76 Mary Lee Settle, Mary McCarthy
#75 The Makioka Sisters
#74 In Our Hearts We Were Giants
#73 Joyce Dyer
#72 Bill Robinson WWII
story
#71 Eva Kollisch on G.W. Sebald
#70 On Reading
#69 Nella Larsen, Romola
#68 P.D. James
#67 The Medici
#66 Curious
Incident,Temple Grandin
#65 Ingrid Hughes on Memoir
#64 Boyle, Worlds of Fiction
#63 The Namesame
#62 Honorary Consul; The Idiot
#61 Lauren's
Line
#60 Prince of Providence
#59 The Mutual Friend, Red
Water
#58 AkÉ, Season
of Delight
#57 Screaming with
Cannibals
#56 Benita Eisler's Byron
#55 Addie,
Hottentot Venus, Ake
#54 Scott Oglesby, Jane Rule
#53 Nafisi,Chesnutt, LeGuin
#52 Keith Maillard, Lee Maynard
#51 Gregory Michie, Carter Seaton
#50 Atonement, Victoria Woodhull biography
#49 Caucasia
#48 Richard Price, Phillip
Pullman
#47 Mid-
East Islamic World Reader
#46 Invitation to
a Beheading
#45 The Princess of Cleves
#44 Shelley Ettinger: A Few Not-so-Great Books
#43 Woolf, The Terrorist Next Door
#42 John Sanford
#41 Isabelle
Allende
#40 Ed Myers on John Williams
#39 Faulkner
#38 Steven Bloom No
New Jokes
#37 James Webb's Fields
of Fire
#36 Middlemarch
#35 Conrad, Furbee,
Silas House
#34 Emshwiller
#33 Pullman, Daughter
of the Elm
#32 More Lesbian lit; Nostromo
#31 Lesbian
fiction
#30 Carol Shields, Colson Whitehead
#29 More William Styron
#28 William Styron
#27 Daniel Gioseffi
#26 Phyllis Moore
#25 On Libraries....
#24 Tales of the
City
#23 Nonfiction, poetry, and fiction
#22 More on Why This
Newsletter
#21 Salinger, Sarah
Waters, Next of Kin
#20 Jane Lazarre
#19 Artemisia Gentileschi
#18 Ozick, Coetzee,
Joanna Torrey
#17 Arthur Kinoy
#16 Mrs. Gaskell and lots of other suggestions
#15 George
Dennison, Pat Barker, George Eliot
#14 Small
Presses
#13 Gap
Creek, Crum
#12 Reading after 9-11
#11 Political Novels
#10 Summer Reading ideas
#9 Shelley
Ettinger picks
#8 Harriette
Arnow's Hunter's Horn
#7 About this newsletter
#6 Maria Edgeworth
#5 Tales of Good
and Evil; Moon Tiger
#4 Homer Hickam
and The Chosen
#3 J.T.
LeRoy and Tale of Genji
#2 Chick Lit
#1 About
this newsletter
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