Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts

Monday, August 09, 2010

I'm a bookworm... I have been since I first learned to read.  For about six years in the middle of the 'aughts I worked for a college bookstore chain and thus had access to several advance reader galleys.  The nice thing about these galleys was that I was exposed to authors and books I had not previously been aware of, not to mention some of which I was aware of but hadn't taken the time to read beforehand.

So I read, and read, and read some more.  I also befriended some of the book buyers.  We'd share book and author recommendations which even further expanded the breadth of books I'd read.

Below is a "best of" of sorts of the best books and/or authors I read and enjoyed during my six years with my prior employer:

Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts:  A semi-autobiographical door-stop debut novel.  An escaped Aussie convict on a forged New Zealand passport sneaks into Mumbai, India.  The books starts when he lands in India and follows his life, his adventures, and misadventures living on the lam in Mumbai.  This is currently being made into a movie with Johnny Depp cast in the lead.  At over 900 pages I have no idea how they can condense this book into three hours, let alone an hour and a half.  The book could have benefitted from some editing as at times it feels like Roberts is trying too hard to be flowery with his prose.  But the story is thoroughly enjoyable and the book is a bona-fide page-turner despite its sizable girth.

Adam Davies: I read three of Davies' novels that were published between 2002 and 2008.  The Frog King which is being made into a movie was mediocre at best.  The main character was eminently unlikable which made it difficult to continue reading about someone I really didn't like or care for.  It was Davies debut though and I did like his style of writing.  Goodbye Lemon was a substantial improvement over The Frog King the main character was still somewhat unlikable, however his motivations were a bit more understandable and thus I was able to generate a bit of empathy for him despite his obvious flaws.  In the end I found it enjoyable because I felt it succeeded where The Frog King had failed.  It got me to care about someone I really wouldn't normally have cared about in a real life setting.  Mine All Mine was the most unusual of Davies books.  The main character was a security guard who had developed a tolerance for various poisons and developing tolerances for new poisons was his hobby.  The plot hinges on being duped by a master thief whom he knows little about and the downfall his life suffers after being duped by said thief.  It's a crime-caper novel of sorts but not in the traditional sense.  I enjoyed it for it's uniqueness.  I can honestly say I've never read any other books quite like it and doubt I ever will (unless Davies writes a follow-up).

Dave Eggers: I read both his brilliant memoir, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and his debut novel You Shall Know Our Velocity.  His talent was/is undeniable.  Both books were enjoyable to read but I repeatedly had the feeling that Eggers was trying to mess with my head a bit.  He included a section in the paperback version if You Shall Know Our Velocity that wasn't in the hardcover version which caused me to call into question the rest of the book... It's kind of like when you see a director's cut of the movie and think to yourself, the original version was actually better than the director's cut.  I appreciate what he was trying to do, but I'm not sure he quite pulled it off.

Theodore Dreiser: We received a galley of a new printing of Sister Carrie which I read and enjoyed so I went out and bought a copy of An American Tragedy which I absolutely loved!  I'd argue that Sister Carrie was one of the first "feminist" novels written by a male author.  I'd also argue the book was well ahead of its time.  While Carrie would have been seen as a bit of a hero and a champion of women striking out on their own and earning their own living during the peak of the women's lib movement at the time the book was written she was viewed more as an amoral anti-hero who uses her feminine wiles on men to advance her station in life.  I've read that Carrie was based on a school teacher in Chicago that he'd dated at the turn of the century.  An American Tragedy was set in the fictional city of Lycurgus, NY (loosely based on Utica, NY) and was based on an actual murder in the Adirondack Mountains in 1906.  The main character, Clyde Griffiths, was based on Chester Gillette who killed his pregnant girlfriend by drowning on Blue Mountain Lake.  The book was made made into 2 movies.  The original movie released in the early 30s followed the book somewhat closely.  In the early 50s a new version, A Place In the Sun, was released  following the same plot but set in the then present day instead of the twenties starring Montgomery Clift, Shelley Winters, & Elizabeth Taylor.  Woody Allen borrowed plagiarized somewhat heavily from A Place In the Sun for his film, Match Point.  The book is better than any of the films that were based on it.  But of those films, A Place In the Sun is easily the best.  It really captures the feel of the book and it gets Dreiser's point across far better than Woody Allen's Match Point

The Sun Also Rises: In high school I had to read Hemmingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls.  I didn't care for it at all.  After a discussion with some of my then co-workers I decided to give Hemmingway another try at my leisure as opposed to having it shoved down my throat.  The experience was much much more enjoyable.  After reading The Sun Also Rises I came to the conclusion that there's a certain level of emotional or life experience one should have to fully enjoy Hemmingway's writing.  As a high school student in an all too small town I didn't yet have the level of emotional experience needed to really appreciate Hemmingway.  However in my late twenties when I had another crack at him, I'd apparently lived enough to have a bit more understanding and appreciation for what his characters were going through.  I was considerably more sympathetic to Jake Barnes than I had been to Robert Jordan.

This Side of Paradise and The Beautiful and the Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald:  In my junior year of high school I read The Great Gatsby and actually quite enjoyed it.  I've always had an affection for the Roaring Twenties (perhaps I experienced them in a previous life) and honestly if time travel were possible and I could go back to any era.  The Roaring Twenties would be at the top of my list.  We received a couple of galleys of Fitzgerald's work towards the end of my stint with my prior employer that I  in turn read after I'd moved on.  As much as I enjoyed The Great Gatsby I preferred Fitzgerald's debut, This Side of Paradise.  Where The Great Gatsby is a classic novel, I'd argue it's largely because of how well and accurately it captured the Roaring Twenties.  This Side of Paradise on the other hand has a timelessnes to it.  While the setting has changed there are still Amory Blaines in the world and I'd argue that there was something universally human about Blaine that made him a bit easier to relate to than Nick Carraway or Jay Gatsby.  The Beautiful and the Damned is also rather timeless in nature.  The sense of entitlement that Fitzgerald portrays for the upper class of the twenties has in years since flooded down to the middle class creating not merely a sense of, but a general culture of entitlement that makes The Beautiful and the Damned arguably even more universally pertinent than when it was written. 

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Reading Meme

Do you snack while you read? If so, favorite reading snack?
No, I generally consider eating and reading to be mutually exclusive activities. I like to fully enjoy both eating and reading and trying to do them simultaneously diminishes the enjoyment of both activities.... Unless of course I'm reading a cookbook.

Do you tend to mark your books as you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you?
It depends on the book/author. Generally I keep a highlighter handy when reading books by Douglas Coupland and highlight my favorite passages. I do this with a few other authors as well but chances are this isn't a practice I'd do with books by John Grisham or Ken Follett.

How do you keep your place while reading a book? Bookmark? Dog-ears?
Usually an improvised bookmark-- sometimes a sheet of 2-ply, sometimes a receipt, and sometimes the library is nice enough to include them in books (or previous readers have left them behind.

Laying the book flat open?
No, usually held in my hands.

Fiction, Non-fiction, or both?
both. Although with non-fiction I tend to stick with travel (Bill Bryson in particular), history and survival books (Into the Wild and books like that).

Hard copy or audiobooks?
Generally hard copy. Although there are a couple authors I wouldn't mind getting audiobooks of (Bill Bryson & David Sedaris) because they read their own books and the audiobooks come recommended even higher than the hard copies.

Are you a person who tends to read to the end of chapters, or are you able to put a book down at any point?
It depends on the author. Some authors, if I want to stop reading I have to stop mid-chapter. The authors leave each chapter with a cliff-hanger that keeps me reading the next one (usually suspense novelists like John Grisham, Ken Follett, and Daniel Silva).

If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop to look it up right away?
No I try to figure it out from the context in which it's used.

What are you currently reading?
Thirtynothing by Lisa Jewell
A Friend of the Family by Lisa Jewell

What is the last book you bought?
Flow My Tears the Policeman Said by Philip K. Dick

Are you the type of person that only reads one book at a time or can you read more than one at a time?
I can read more than one at a time although I prefer not to. I feel like I'm cheating on whichever book I started reading first.

Do you have a favorite time of day and/or place to read?
Right before bed. It clears my head of the day's stresses and relaxes me so I fall asleep considerably faster and easier when the lights do go out.

Do you prefer series books or stand alone books?
With Sci-Fi books I prefer series. For any/every other genre I prefer stand alone books.

Is there a specific book or author that you find yourself recommending over and over?
Books -
Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts; Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney; American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis; Life After God by Douglas Coupland; An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser; Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser; The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway; This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Authors -
Christopher Moore, Ken Follett, Douglas Coupland, Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov

How do you organize your books? (By genre, title, author’s last name, etc.?)
By author, although beyond that my wife shelves the books by size by how they look best on the shelf. She's got an eye for that. I only ever ask her to keep books by the same author together and just let her do her thing.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Reincarnation?

The other day I was recalling a recurring dream I used to have when I was rather young. In the dream I was wearing a tuxedo. It was a nice one too, tailcoat, top hat, the whole 9 yards. And in it I was an adult dancing with a woman in a beautiful evening gown... The thing is the tux and evening gown were not of the present era (or the present era at the time I had the dream, the early eighties). I don't recall what music we were dancing to, but I do recall knowing that the clothes I'd been wearing in the dream were from the past. I was too young to have any concept of when in the past they were from. In hindsight, I believe they were reminiscent of the roaring twenties.

The odd thing is, I've always felt close ties to that era. Some of my favorite classic novels were written in the late teens through the twenties (Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy, F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise, The Beautiful and Damned, and of course The Great Gatsby, and Ernest Hemmingway's The Sun Also Rises). I'm also a fan of silent film-- the comedies of Buster Keaton & Charlie Chaplin, the swashbucklers of Douglas Fairbanks, the horror films of Lon Chaney, and even some of John Barrymore's and Rudolf Valentino's films.

When I read books or watch films of that era, there's a familiarity that's not necessarily there when I read books or watch older films of other eras that pre-date my life. I suppose there are other possible and likely more plausible explanations out there. But can the possibility that our souls get recycled really be outside the realm of possibility? Our bodies may become worm food or ash after our expiration dates, but are our bodies perhaps merely vessels our souls occupy on a much longer, perhaps even infinite journey of existence?

And if this isn't my first time around, how many times before have I held residence on this third orb from the sun? Who and when might I have been?

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Now playing: Richard Clapton - Get Back To The Shelter
via FoxyTunes

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

It's six A. M. Do you know where you are?

You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time in the morning. But here you are, and you cannot say that the terrain is entirely unfamiliar, although the details are fuzzy.-- Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney p. 1

With that one simple passage my life changed. I'd read other books before, and read others since. But those words crackled off the page with an energy and vigor. Initially recommended by a Creative Writing professor when I was a sophomore in college, I signed the book out of the library and read... then read again a few years later, and probably at least two or three more times since then.

While I couldn't necessarily relate to the main character, the style of writing was fresh, it was different, exciting. The book spawned a movie and even a Broadway musical.

I've read most of McInerney's works since then... some might argue he was to the eighties what F. Scott Fitzgerald had been to the Roaring Twenties... the voice of a generation. And as good as some of his other books are, he unfortunately never matched the brilliance of Bright Lights, Big City. They didn't have that original voice (although Story of My Life came close-- a similar tale but from the perspective of a woman instead of man).

No matter how many times I read the novel it still feels fresh to me as I've never read a book quite like it, I'm not sure I ever will.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Interesting passage...

I just finished reading The Book of the Film of the Story of My Life by William Brandt. There was a passage in it I especially enjoyed:

Because all of the sudden, wham! there it is, your childhood, coming at you, and nothing has changed and you're ten years old again because Auckland still smells the same and nothing has changed that and I don't believe anything ever will and suddenly you're feeling feelings you forgot you'd ever felt, feelings you'd forgotten you ever could feel, because they're feelings without names or faces, feelings so familiar and so strange and at the same time so much a part of you that you don't understand how you could ever have forgotten a feeling like that and still have been you, all that time, all those years. And for all that time, that smell and that feeling has been here on this street corner just waiting for you to happen by again. You breathe it in and there it is and best of all it doesn't mean a damn thing, it's just beautiful.
And what a beautiful feeling that is!

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Superlatives of '08

Best New Album: Steve Lukather Ever Changing Times

Lukather shows what he's capable outside the confines of being a studio musician and frontman/founding member of Toto.

Honorable mentions: Bill Champlin No Place Left to Fall

Champlin is one of the most respected session vocalists in the industry. This album was a family affair as it also features his wife, Tamara, and son, Will, guesting on a handful of tracks. It also shows off Champlin's love of the B3 with a serious soulful funky edge. His new arrangement of Chicago's hit, Look Away actually restores some semblance of passion and emotional conviction to the song that Chicago had overproduced to the point of sterility. And if the man can give a vapid, dime-a-dozen Diane Warren song conviction, well THAT'S talent.

Best Book I Read This Year: The Conscience of a Conservative by Barry Goldwater

This book should be required reading for all Republicans seeking office. This is what the party was and is supposed to stand for not the mess it's turned into in recent years. Much of it is just as true today as it was when the book was initially written in 1959.

Best debut Novel: The Little Book by Selden Edwards

The book took Edwards over 30 years to write. It's an excellent well-woven time travel tale that I'd recommend to anyone.

Biggest Surprise(s): Guns 'n' Roses Chinese Democracy

After several years, several missteps, and millions of dollars the surprise is two-fold... One that the album was actually finally released and two that the album was actually pretty damned good. Axl has successfully shown the world that he still has some tricks up his sleeve.

Best Film: The Dark Knight

It's not often that a movie villain overshadows the hero to the extent Heath Ledger's Joker did to Christian Bale's Batman. I'd also argue that Aaron Eckhart's portrayal of Harvey Dent/Two-Face was excellent (although was still no match for Ledger's Joker). Also Maggie Gyllenhaal's portrayal of Rachel blew Katie Holmes portrayal of the same character in Batman Begins out of the water (not difficult to do).

Honorable mentions: Iron Man - Robert Downey Jr. did an exceptional job in the title role making this a thoroughly enjoyable super-hero romp. Definitely, Maybe - I'd argue this was the best date movie of the year. It doesn't hurt that Isla Fisher is easy on the eyes nor that Ryan Reynolds had excellent chemistry with all 4 leading ladies (counting Abigail Breslin as well as Rachel Weisz, Elizabeth Banks, and Isla Fisher).

Best Moment: The election of Barack Obama on November 4, 2008

Even though, I'm ideologically nearly his polar opposite I respect what his election means to this country and hope that his election goes a long way towards improving race relations in this country. I believe Will Smith put it best "No more excuses." Obama's election proves that anyone of any race is capable of becoming anything he/she wants that no door is closed-- not even the presidency. His cabinet choices thus far have given me plenty of reason for optimism that he'll rule from the center and not from the far left.

Worst Moment: The arrest of Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich on December 9, 2008

His corruption is only surpassed by his pig-headedness and unwillingness to do what is best for the state of Illinois and resign. He's cast a negative pall on what should have been/should be a smooth and celebratory transition for Obama into the White House. I mean it's pretty bad when even former NY governor, Eliot Spitzer looks good by comparison (see below).

(Dis)Honorable Mentions: NY governor Eliot Spitzer being charged with transporting a prostitute across state lines (at least he had the decency to throw in the towel and go quietly), Governor Blagojevich's appointment of Roland Burris to Obama's vacant senate seat despite stiff opposition from everyone except Blagojevich and Burris (and the hits just keep on coming... this has gone from the sublime to the ridiculous to the sublimely ridiculous).

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Now playing: Tommy Shaw - Ever Since The World Began (LP Version)
via FoxyTunes

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Utterly Monkey

I've been reading Northern Irish author, Nick Laird's debut novel, Utterly Monkey. Thus far it's been an enjoyable read. I found the following passage particularly enjoyable:

Tonight then, he would make sure that when she turned up her stuff would be sitting out for her in his sky blue hallway -- sky blue because she'd decorated it. Not actually decorated it, but she'd told Danny what colours to paint it and had been instrumental in finally getting it done. She recycled the colour cards as bookmarks, and left them in the various novels she'd begun and abandoned. Over the last two months rereading Graham Greene, Danny had learned the colours of the walls in his bedroom and boxroom; apricot and cinnabar. The card wedged between the twelfth and thirteenth pages of The Great Gatsby, his favorite novel and the one he'd pulled out from the shelf, sleepless, to reread three nights back, had revealed the kitchen to be either cowslip or mustard, depending on the light. Someday, possibly, Danny might learn that his hallway was, in fact, teal, if he ever happened to make it past the fifth chapter of Colleen McCullough's The Thorn Birds, left behind by the flat's previous owner.
It's specificity makes it quite believable. There's something real about coming across the trappings of an old flame shortly after she's "exit stage left" and Laird's description of that experience is one of the more realistic I've read in contemporary literature.

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Now playing: Roch Voisine - Blue Christmas
via FoxyTunes

Friday, August 08, 2008

Music, Art, & Literature that touch your soul

Lately I've been re-exploring my love of and interest in early twentieth century American authors. A few years back I read Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy and Sister Carrie, Ernest Hemmingway's The Sun Also Rises (which was far better than For Whom the Bell Tolls which I'd been forced to read in high school), and Sinclair Lewis's Main Street. A few months ago I read F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise and currently I'm reading Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and Damned.

The thing is, reading these novels through an early 21st century lens is not that enjoyable. So as I read these books I put myself in the mindset of the age in which they were written and in so doing my appreciation for these works increases substantially. Take for example the following passages from The Beautiful and Damned:

He was wondering at the unreality of ideas, at the fading radiance of existence, and at the little absorptions that were creeping avidly into his life, like rats into a ruined house. He was sorry for no one now-- on Monday morning there would be his business, and later there would be a girl of another class whose life he was; these were the things nearest his heart . In the strangeness of the brightening day it seemed presumptuous that with this feeble broken instrument of his mind he had ever tried to think. (page 237, 238 Enriched Classic edition)

Her bosom is still a pavement that she offers to the hoofs of many passing stallions, hoping that their iron shoes may strike even a spark of romance in the darkness...
(page 247 Enriched Classic edition)

There's a penetrating and timeless loneliness and emptiness in both those passages that Fitzgerald captured with brilliance conveying a tremendous depth of emotion. Being a bit of a solitary person myself, it's often passages like this, the artwork of Edward Hopper, the lyrics of Harry Chapin that really strike a chord with me, that speak to not just on an intellectual level but on an emotional level as well. I feel the intensity of emotion in the words and it strikes me clear to my very soul.

So what writers, painters, musicians push your buttons? Which writers make you not just read and appreciate their words, but make you feel their words? With which artists do you FEEL their works? Which musicians strum the chords of your soul?

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Politics

During election years I tend to grow more politically active, I listen to more talk radio, I read more political publications, I discuss politics with friends. This election year is no exception. Starting with Flying High a memoir of Barry Goldwater and the 1964 election, now reading Very Strange Bedfellows which is about the unusual pairing of Nixon and Agnew in the 1968 and 1972 elections, and I'll be wrapping up my political tri-fecta with The Age of Reagan by Sean Willentz.

And it's not just the political philosophy/ideology I enjoy-- it's also discussion of the political process that I find quite intriguing. That being said, I tend to avoid the cable news networks until after the polls close. As was seen in the 2004 election when all the speculation from the exit polling had Kerry winning the election-- speculation is just that. And I figure their guess is as good as mine. Exit polling is largely dependent on the pollsters and when they do their polling. The voting habits of conservative Republicans are considerably different than the voting habits of liberal Democrats. I also feel that exit polling is more a curse than a blessing. I believe the speculation and reports of the exit polls in 2004 are what helped get out the vote for Bush. Many conservatives who might not have otherwise voted-- upon hearing that Kerry was doing so well in the exit polls may very likely have gone out to vote for Bush. In that regard, the exit polling was likely a blessing for Bush.

This morning I was listening to one of the local talk radio shows Big John & Cisco In the Morning. They were interviewing former Clinton staffer, Dick Morris. It's no secret that Morris is no friend or fan of the Clinton's. Some may say he has an axe to grind-- but given his background he also offers a unique perspective into the "belly of the beast" so to speak. Morris did make one very valid point about a Hillary Clinton presidency. George Bush has expanded the powers of the president considerably in his 8 years in office. And while George Bush hasn't (at least Morris doesn't believe he has) abused those powers, Hillary certainly would. I'm not going to split hairs over whether or not Bush has abused those powers as that's beside the point. After hearing those remarks I asked myself-- "Which of the 3 remaining candidates would be most apt to abuse the powers of the presidency?" and without hesitation my answer was Hillary... Not Obama, not McCain. Morris mentioned that Hillary brings with her to the table a list of enemies... upon mentioning that, I thought to myself, "She sounds like another Nixon. The last thing this country needs is another Tricky Dick."

To extrapolate on that... Since 1989 either a Bush or a Clinton has occupied the White House... In that time this nation has grown increasingly more divided. Who is most apt to end that division and who is most apt to perpetuate it?

To close on a somewhat more somber note... I've been eligible to vote since 1994-- since then I'm yet to see a presidential candidate I've felt truly excited about and agree with. Barry Goldwater planted the seeds of modern conservatism, Reagan had the green thumb to make it grow... and then these Bush boys came in and mowed all that progress down with their newfangled "neo-conservatism" (which is quite an oxymoron for quite the pair of ox-like morons). Where is this generation's Goldwater or Reagan? Where is that candidate-- and I don't care about that candidate's gender or race or religion-- that can excite me, that can move me, that makes me feel GOOD about voting and gives me genuine HOPE for this country's future?

I think the Republicans actually HAD that guy... But they went and botched it. In the 2004 US Senate Race. A charismatic young Republican with movie star/JFK good looks and classic conservative ideals, Jack Ryan, won the Illinois Republican primary for the senate race. Much like his Democratic counterpart, Barack Obama, he had a positive energy about him. Unfortunately, his confidential divorce records were opened and it was discovered he propositioned his then wife (actress Jeri Ryan) for sex in a public place while they were married. Why his private divorce records were opened in the first place remains a mystery to me and many others. Why it was considered such a scandal that he propositioned someone he was actually married to at the time for sex remains and even greater mystery to me... But the end result... Ryan was asked to step down and the Illinois Republican party imported religious kook Alan Keyes from Maryland to run against Obama... Keyes of course lost in a landslide and suddenly Obama's star was on the rise... And Ryan's star had been shot down.

Who knows, had we respected his privacy-- this presidential race might look considerably different right now. Ryan may not have ended up defeating Obama, but I have no doubt the race would have been MUCH closer and Ryan likely would have made quite a name for himself. And had he lost the senate race he might have run for Illinois governor in 2006 against the incumbent moron Rod Blagoievich, a man he could have defeated quite handily grooming himself as a possible VP candidate to the eventual Republican nominee...

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

The Muse

Last Thursday on my return flight from Vegas after the battery on my laptop gave up the ghost, Muse whispered in my ear and I found myself writing a short story in a journal I'd brought along for note-taking... As I was writing the strange feeling came over me that maybe I wasn't writing the story so much as it was writing me. A starting line popped in my head and my fingers and my pen just went with it.

While I didn't finish the story on the plane, I have been working at it over the weekend and over the course of this week. It's been awhile since writing came this easy to me. I'm taking full advantage of it while the Muse is still present to entertain me.

An interesting bit, I find myself writing in the 2nd person (the main character being referred to as "you" instead of "I" or "me"-- as you'd expect in first person, or even "he" or "she"-- in third person objective or third person omniscent). When I was in college I took a class in Intro to Creative Writing in which our professor recommended Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City as it was/is one of the few novels in the English language written in the 2nd person. After that I even started keeping my personal journal in the 2nd person (referring to myself as "you") to gain practice in writing from that PoV. Initially, my scribblings, wreaked of poor man's McInerney... But this bit I'm writing now, it's me, not me trying to be Jay McInerney. There's something liberating about it.

For those who write, you can perhaps relate... It was as if somewhere along the way I'd lost my "voice" only to have found it mid-air somewhere between Las Vegas and Chicago (I believe I was flying over Nebraska or possibly Iowa when I started writing-- if you want to nitpick).

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Issues of Image

Over on a couple of other blogs I frequent (Can You Be a Part of My Life and Prodigal Daughter) there's been a discussion of body image and a how a person's body image can positively or negatively effect their treatment of others. For example a formerly overweight man coming to grips with the popularity gained from suddenly being physically appealing for a change. Some people are able to handle the change and don't allow the change in their body to adversely effect their interpersonal relationships (platonic, romantic, familial, etc.) and others...

Well with others, there's a comic book-esque personality transformation-- a once kind and noble man or woman becoming intoxicated by the power their newfound "power" (physical attraction) has on those they seek to attract. They seek to "punish" or get revenge on those whom they believe have wronged them in the past... or maybe not those people exactly but people they perceive to be "the same type" by proxy end up feeling the brunt of their pent up anger and angst.

So the once kindly humorous homely gent who used to get teased in school-- rather than treating the ladies with respect because he felt that was the only card he had to play, now has a whole deck of tricks and he aims to use each and every one of them to humiliate, put-down, and/or berate all those he views as having been the prom queens, cheerleaders, and other girls who in the past, didn't give him a second glance or acknowledge his existence.

But perception creates reality, and false perceptions can turn into truth by way of self-fulfilling prophecies. The once homely gent who has cleaned himself up... it used to be he couldn't get dates because he was unattractive to those he sought to attract... now he'll have trouble getting dates because he's an asshole to all the women he does date... He's cashing in all the bad karma he's collected over his life and dishing it out to people who had nothing to do with it...

Or as Jay McInerney once described it in his Story of a Life, it's a "chain of pain."

It's not right, of course, but it is inherently human... We get hurt and the first reaction is to lash out and hurt those who hurt us. When they're unavailable the urge is sometimes there to hurt others whom we feel are representative of those who did hurt us... hurt them and by proxy you hurt those who hurt you. It's quite flawed logic, but when one is hurt and/or angry, sound logic seldom gets paid attention to. And thus we end up with the "chain of pain."

What makes it such a huge mess, is that many of those who are caught in this chain don't even realize it. And the trouble is, it's really hard to break the chain. You can't be blunt after all, I mean telling an asshole that he's being an asshole will only piss off said asshole that much more and only further perpetuate the chain of pain... You might or might not end up being the next link in the chain but someone else certainly will be-- even if you aren't...

So later on, after reading about body image and how a change in body and thus body image can adversely affect some people I was reading on the late Dennis Wilson (the Beach Boy, the only one who actually was an honest-to-God surfer). And in the article I was reading on him there was a quote and it made me think to myself, maybe that's how to break the chain:
I give everything I have away. What I am wearing and what’s in that suitcase is it. I don’t even have a car. I have a 1934 Dodge pick-up truck which someone gave me. I could have anything I want. I just have to go out and get it. If it’s worth having, it’s worth giving. The smile you send out will return to you!
It's a chain of love-- it's not about giving back to the world what you get out of it... Because quite honestly the world has heaped some serious piles of shit on some people and you don't really want that spread around, now do you? It's about giving back to the world BETTER than what the rest of the world has given you. If the world has been good to you, give EVEN BETTER back to the world.

I won't deny that there are some folks out there who probably do legitimately deserve the shit that gets piled on them. And on the occasions when I come into contact with such people there is that part of me that would love nothing more than to give such people just what they have coming to them... But if I give them that, it just means it's going to go right back into the chain of pain... and while dishing said shit out might not put me in the chain, I would certainly be contributing to it. And in the end, you have to ask yourself, is it really worth it?

*My apologies to both Lauren and Barbara as I've taken this discussion from their blogs in a very different direction... My mind just started going in a different direction and this is where I ended up.

Monday, November 05, 2007

More musings from Fitzgerald

So I finished reading This Side of Paradise and stumbled across the following passage. It really hit a nerve with me:
Youth is like having a plate of candy. Sentimentalists think they want to be in a pure, simple state they were in before they ate the candy. They don't. They just want the fun of eating it all over again. The matron doesn't want to repeat her girlhood-- she wants to repeat her honeymoon. I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.
Is nostalgia a wistful longing for better, more innocent times, or is it more a longing to lose that innocence all over again? Do we have a desire to regain the innocence to be innocent again or do we have that desire for the experience-- the rush if you will-- of losing that innocence all over again?

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Reflections on life and love in literature and music

So I've been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's debut novel, This Side of Paradise-- likely Fitzgerald's most autobiographical tome. As I'm reading about the love shared by Amory and Rosalind I'm left feeling a bit touched that Fitzgerald would give his readers such an intimate glimpse into the love he felt for Zelda as Rosalind was at least loosely based on his wife, Zelda.

But the constant in Fitzgerald's writing is a certain loss of innocence or fall from grace-- the reality of the fragility of life underneath the illusion that life is grand.

On a similar tangent, today I was reading an excellent post by Sam de Brito on the "Peter Pan syndrome"-- a certain type of guy who refuses to grow up, perpetually relieving his youth by dating college girls and going to work in jeans and ratty old Converse sneakers. de Brito makes the argument that these blokes are the ones who at one point in their lives were burned nee charred by love to the extent that the connections they seek in life tend to be casual and fleeting due to that strong a fear of getting burnt again.

He also brought up the very real potential that these Peter Pan types will end up quite alone which brought to mind a certain Harry Chapin song
"and the little man
looked at the empty glass in his hand
and he smiled a crooked grin
He said, 'I guess I'm out of gin
And I know we both have been
So lonely
And if you want me to come with you
Then that's alright with me
'cause I know I'm going nowhere
and anywhere's a better place to be"-- from A Better Place to Be by Harry Chapin
What is it about some of us that allows us to risk that being burnt again in the game of love where others avoid love after getting burned by its scorching intensity just once? I thought about what made me the type who was willing to risk (and inevitably experience) that pain multiple times. And I think I can trace it back to a passage I once read in one of Douglas Coupland's books. The basic idea of the passage being that the possibility of becoming numb to lows of life comes with it the opposite side of the same coin-- the risk of becoming numb to the highs of life as well. At some point I just decided that the lowest lows were worth it because they made me appreciate the highest highs that much more. Each time I got burned it just made me appreciate love that much more the next time around-- an emotional education in love if you will.

Getting back to Fitzgerald, I'm left thinking-- perhaps the reason many of us don't enjoy reading the classics in high school is that we lack the emotional experience that allows us to empathize with the characters. I read Hemmigway's For Whom the Bell Tolls in high school and didn't much care for it. I read his The Sun Also Rises a few years after graduating college and absolutely loved it. On some level I could empathize with Jake Barnes in a way I'd not been able to do with Robert Jordan in high school. I hadn't yet lived enough. Both Fitzgerald and Hemmingway were able to touch on very real human emotions but only after they had steeled their emotions from the experiences in the grand adventure of life. Now with Fitzgerald, while I don't necessarily care for him, there's something about Amory Blaine that I can relate to in a way that I'd not been able to do with Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby. Much like with For Whom the Bell Tolls I wasn't "there" yet emotionally when I read Gatsby, I had a bit more living to do (that being said, I quite enjoyed The Great Gatsby when I read it in high school-- to the point where I used to refer to my friends as "old sport" which I'm sure got old fast).

Thinking back to the books I truly did enjoy reading in high school-- Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and John Knowles' A Separate Peace the protagonists in those books are either children or adolescents. Lee and Knowles recaptured an innocence of youth that at the time I was able to relate to in a way that felt far more familiar than Hemmingway or Fitzgerald (heck I've even gone back and re-read A Separate Peace at least 3 times since high school-- it remains a favorite of mine to this day).

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Random thoughts and Blog Homework...

I've been really busy lately but I did/do have some random thoughts/ideas to share:
  1. Does it bother anyone else that KENTUCKY Fried Chicken is using Sweet Home ALABAMA as its theme music in its current advertising campaign?
  2. Speaking of music I came up with another band name... Severed Chords. The lead singer would have the stage name of Val Sectomy.
  3. You know those squirty top water bottles? Sometimes when you close them a little water squirts out. Whenever that happens I look at the bottle and console it... "It's okay it happens to everyone."
  4. In the book I'm currently reading (JPod by Douglas Coupland) the characters were musing about Ronald McDonald and what he's like off-duty, if he's haggard from showing up at all those birthday parties. In the end they decide he must be lonely. And then all of the characters write a letter to Ronald making a case for why they'd make a good partner/friend/lover for him. When finished with their letters the plan is to vote on the best one and send it to Ronald... With that in mind, I have an assignment: Write YOUR letter to Ronald McDonald. I don't care if you're gay, straight, male, or female. Make your case for why you're the perfect mate/friend/lover/lifelong companion for Ronald!
I've got to cut this short and get back to my book... in the mean time... get crackin' Ronald's a lonely clown! He needs a companion, don't keep the poor clown waiting too long.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

on Douglas Coupland

So I started reading this advance copy of The Gum Thief, Douglas Coupland's latest novel. Coupland's novels have this tendency to get in my headspace and fuck around a bit. That is to say there's a certain naked honesty in his characters that I really relate to, sometimes a little too closely and when that happens all I can think is, "Get out of my noggin, Coupland!" That being said he's still one of my favorite authors because he's one of the few that gets me to reflect deeply on my life, my thoughts, my motivations. Sometimes I suppose that's a good thing, and other times not so much.

So anyway, I started reading this book, and mind you it's been 2 or 3 years since I've read anything by him as I somehow missed his last novel (JPod, which incidentally one of my coworkers has lent me to read when I'm done with The Gum Thief) so the impact his books have on me had faded with time, maybe to the point of growing sepia tones around the edges. But within the first page or two I'm thinking, "Awww, Bloody Hell, he's doing it again!"

Oh and he's Canuck so I have to give him props for that.

Ever read/watch/experience anything like that? Where you know by looking at a work of art, listening to a piece of music, watching a special film, or reading a book that the creator of that work-- whatever that work may be-- was/is operating on the exact same wavelength? I mean beyond the point of merely being able to relate to something-- the point where you relate so closely to something it's either uncomfortable because it hits too close to home or it's extremely comforting because you know you aren't alone in thinking/feeling/acting in that particular way?

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

So, what are you reading?

One of my online friends recently shared this wonderful time-wasting site with me. I recommend it to any/all bookworms:

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Words & Music

So, I'm in Denver on business. Keeping busy and what not. Last night after dinner and watching the end of the Detroit/Calgary playoff game, (around 10:30 or 11 pm) I picked up the book I'd brought with me for my reading pleasure, The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue. And I just couldn't put it down. When I finished and checked the clock, my ever so exhausted eyes noticed it was 1:08 am.

Next to listening to music, reading is one of my favorite pastimes. I've been on a regular tear lately, I believe I've read about three or four books (in addition to The Stolen Child, I've also read The Prestige by Christopher Priest and Crazy '08 by Cait Murphy) over the course of the past month or so. Next on my queue is Another Bullshit Night in Suck City by Nick Flynn (which has got to be one of the coolest book titles since Dave Eggers' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius) or possibly Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union.

What I'm hinting at, skirting the fringe of-- I'm a Bibliophile... or possibly a Biblio-addict. I just can't bloody well quit. Case in point, about halfway through Crazy '08, I picked up The Prestige, read it cover to cover within about a week, and then resumed and inevitably finished about two days later. As soon as I finished... I mean within seconds, I'd picked up The Stolen Child.

I don't know that there are any support groups for such an addiction-- the only thing I don't like about reading is that it takes me away from one of my other vices-- music... I'm an audiophiliac. I can't divide my attentions between reading and listening to music and do both activities the justice they deserve... Inevitably one or the other will win over my attentions. I've tried instrumental pieces (Steve Hackett's Metamorpheus and A Midsummer Night's Dream and the film scores of John Barry and Ennio Morricone), but even they are able to steal my attention from whatever literary journeys I happen to have embarked on.

Then again, I don't know that I'd want there to be a support group for these wonderful addictions. There are far worse things to be hooked on (I personally am still doing the 12 steps for my Phonics Addiction), I relish (and mustard and giardinera) these addictions. I nurture and grow with them.

Incidentally, when I write I NEED music, I need that musical cadence to keep me writing... even now I'm listening to Alan Parsons Project's Eye in the Sky album. Despite sounding delightfully dated (sounding dated is not always or necessarily a bad thing), I still find this album an absolute joy to listen to (then again much of Parsons musical repertoire, with and without "the Project" is quite delicious ear candy). There's just something magical and mystical about the power of music. I think, whether or not we realize it-- we as human creatures need an aural canvas or soundscape to get lost in from time to time. It's another form of escape from our day to day drudgery, the workaday 9 to 5 and all that silly monotony.

And so I leave you with a question? What are your favorite aural and literary escapes? What are your latest escapes?

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Adverbs excerpt

I've been reading Adverbs by Daniel Handler (aka "Lemony Snicket") and thoroughly enjoying his prose. On page 83, I stumbled upon the following passage and thought I'd share:

Love is hourly, too. There are stories about people who have loved someone forever after laying eyes on
them for a few minutes and then nevermore, but these stories have not happened to anyone we know. No, when you love someone you spend hours and hours with them, and then even the mightiest of forces in the netherworld could not say whether the hours you spend increase your love or if you simply spend more hours
with someone as your love increases. And when the love is over, when the diner of love seems closed from the outside, you want all those hours back, along with anything you left at the lover’s house and maybe a couple of things which aren’t technically yours on the grounds that you wasted a portion of your life and those hours have all gone southside. Nobody can make this better, it seems, nothing on the menu. It’s like what the stewardess offers, even in first class. They come with towels, with drinks, mints, but they never say, “Here’s the five hours we took from you when you flew across the country to New York to live with your boyfriend and then one day he got in a taxicab and he never came back, and also you flew back, another five hours, to San Francisco, just in time for a catastrophe.” And so you sit like a spilled drink, those missing hours in you like an ache, and you hear stories that aren’t true and won’t bring anyone back.
Things happen and you never get over them.



Thursday, February 01, 2007

A shout out to my homies in Toronto, eh!

My favorite author is Christopher Moore. Moore has written several humorous books that never fail to make me laugh. His quirkiness, his sense of humor, it all shines through in his writing, making him an absolute delight to read.

In support of his most recent book: You Suck: A Love Story, Moore will be appearing in Toronto on Valentine's Day:

Wednesday, February 14, 2007, 7:00 PM
THE CHELSEA ROOM
923 Dundas Street West (at Grace)
Toronto, Ontario M6J 1W2 CANADA
416-364-0553
An [Anti-] Valentine's Day Event with author Christopher Moore
In conversation with Maggie Cassella
This is a free event - come early for prizes and giveaways!
Contact miranda.snyder@harpercollins.com for more information

So, my Torontan (is that the correct term?) friends, if you are available or are so inclined, I highly recommend attending this event. Having gone to 2 of Moore's previous book signings I've got to say this guy is absolutely hilarious. If he hadn't become a writer, he would have made an excellent stand-up comic.

You Suck: A Love Story, is the sequel to Moore's Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story. So if you're a Christopher Moore virgin, you'll probably want to read Bloodsucking Fiends first.

Monday, November 20, 2006

More Deep Thoughts Brought to you in part by Neil Gaiman...

I've been diligently reading Neiul Gaiman's The Anansi Boys and I reached another thoroughly intriguing passage.

The idea was presented that for every person there are only 500 people in the world. That is to say, we're all linked to about 500 people whose lives we pass into and out of, who we recognize. With some of those people this is a blessing, for others-- a curse. But try as we might to avoid them, the circumstances which tie us to those people perpetually bring them into our lives.

What about the other 5 billion people? They're the "extras"-- that's not to say that's all they are, see they have their own groups of 500 people, you're one of their "Extras" after all.

It's an interesting theory, one I'm not entirely sure I buy into. But there have been instances where I've stumbled upon casual acquaintances and friends where I might not otherwise expect to that do leave me thinking... "well... maybe there is something to it."

So, in whose life do you feel you're one of their "500"? For whom do you think you're just an "extra"? Are there people who you believe you're only an extra in their life but you should be more? Are there people in your "500" that you wish weren't? Are there "extras" in your life that you'd like to make part of that 500?