Armando's Books for July

Lost City of Z by David Grann

Grann's awards include: Samuel Johnson Prize, shortlist 2009, Michael Kelly award, finalist 2005 ,Thomas J. Watson Fellowship, 1989.

This is about the adventures of explorer Lt Colonel Percy Harrison, famous fellow who disappeared in the Amazon. David Grann takes you on his travels as he ravels and unravels this mystery. #1 on the NYTimes Bestseller list.

Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon

Chabon received the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2007. Folks love and hate this book. This is his take on being a Dad, today. He takes us on daily life, with stories and tangents, and explores societal expectations about Dads.

The Songlines by Bruce Chatwin

An English novelist and travel writer, Chatwin won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize for his novel On the Black Hill (1982).

Bruce Chatwin's book is ostensibly an examination of the Australian Aboriginal notion of the Songline: a song that relates a series of geographical locations ranging from one coast to another, tied to the (mythical) creation of an animal, that in a variety of languages unified by tune sings out the geography of the route. He explores this abstract concept through the agency of Arkady and a cast of other Whites who live and work amongst the Aborigines in the harsh heart of Australia, defending their rights and interpreting their rites.

Tinkers by Paul Harding

Tinkers (2009) won the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.  The board called the novel "a powerful celebration of life in which a New England father and son, through suffering and joy, transcend their imprisoning lives and offer new ways of perceiving the world and mortality." Tinkers was also shortlisted for the Mercantile Library First Novel Award, named one of the hundred Best Novels of 2009 by Publishers Weekly and Amazon.com, and one of the Best Books of 2009 by NPR and by Library Journal.

--Armando

Hunger - it's what's for dinner!

I was unable to write. Everything around bothered me and distracted me; everything I saw obsessed me. If only one good thought would rush in, then words would come!

The setting sun bounced off the deep blue horizon, like a medicine ball dropped on a Doberman Pinscher from a great height, then rolling into a fireplace and immolating itself like a Phoenix turned to ash. (Paul) I went to a friend's house. His name was Stan. He gave me food, for my writing. (John) Stan is a very controlling host. I wonder what his next book will be. Seems like he enjoys the senses (Blindness, Hunger), so what's next? (unsigned) Yes, Stan is testing us. But we cannot be fooled! We want our food!!! (Tom J.) F&*# this! (Andrew)

They try to divert me, with stories of voyeuristic children's toys and tales of home construction, men riding high on giant wooden beams suspended from cranes, like Slim Pickens in Dr. Strangelove. Young people are triumphing in lacrosse and water polo, going to new high schools and new colleges. They have hopes and futures to look forward to. I have a blog entry.

"One roast beef!" I said. I started eating; gradually I became more and more ravenous and swallowed whole pieces without chewing them. I tore at the meat like a cannibal. Chips, guacamole, salsa, salad, potatoes. How can such foods fuel my masterpiece? Bread, yes bread is my friend, but so much good wine and beer makes my writing insane, or annoying (but not funny).

Thoughts of last night's adventure flooded over me, made me almost delirious. I remember that they talked of the book. (That twit translator George Egerton! That thoughtless writer-of-other-people's-forewords Paul Auster! I will not waste my spit on them.) It was like a vein opening, one word followed the other, arranged themselves in right order, created situations; scene piled on scene, actions and conversations welled up. Every word I set down came from somewhere else:

"It gave me a better perspective on homeless people and the psychosis of hunger." (Dean)

"It reminds us that homeless people have a lot going on inside." (George)

"It was a stream of consciousness, but of a bipolar schizo. His writing was more intelligent than his actions. I like to see characters change and grow, to be affected by something." (Larry)

"It was a boring, irritating, honest character study of someone going crazy. Did he imagine the woman? Who would be attracted to him?" (Paul)

"My ADD and his psychosis didn't match. I kept falling asleep after reading only 2 pages; it was brutal. All acute angles, with no rhyme or reason." (John)

"The book is amazing in a historical context, portraying the amorphous life of the subconscious. But no one progressed - was there a method to his madness or was he just a whack job? It reminded me of the fish in the Citi Card commercial." (Doug)
(at 0:20 mark in http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xvUkHqEDX4 )

"I struggled to like it at first, but it grew on me. Why was he honest with the girl? He had a compulsion to be outdoors and on the outskirts." (Andrew)

"I tried to hate it, but I ended up loving it. It's funnier than crap, because the guy is such a moron." (Dan)

"I skipped ahead 50 pages, and the same things were still happening." (Dean)

"This book is an important byway of literature, but really hard to read, like Crime and Punishment, but without all the happy, fun parts. What would great fictional characters be like if they were medicated?" (Tom A.)

"It was almost comical, but reading it was such torture that reaching the ending came as a relief. The author keeps putting him in "no, don't do that" situations, but he's completely self-destructive, and he keeps trying to drag in God. You can see how this book is related to Kafka, Camus and Nietzsche." (Stan)

"It was OK." (Tom J.)

They say the protagonist denied himself opportunities, but maybe deprivation is exactly what he needed to bring out the worst in his writing. It has worked for me.

It was the best piece I had ever read in my life. I became giddy with contentment, gladness swelled up in me, I felt myself to be magnificent. Then I stopped, my head was empty, I couldn't do any more. It was time to end the whole business now! I began staring with eyes wide open at these final words, at this unfinished page. At the end, I couldn't understand what was going on, I had no thoughts at all.

Paul's Book Suggestions for June

I’m departing a bit from the usual “here is the long review of each book from some famous source” and distilling this (or dropping this down to) a level that makes it easier to decide. I’ve included what I think are the two key decision points for this group – identifying each books’ level of misogynism, and outlining the likely dinner for the evening. After all, if you’d known you’d be eating gonads, would you have voted for Power of the Dog?

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, 541 pages

Review quotes: “Brilliant and hugely ambitious…it’s the kind of book that can be life changing” (New York Times) “Thought provoking, life-affirming, triumphant, and tragic” (The Guardian)

My take: While we’re just coming out of a reading of another one of Stan’s depression and claustrophobia inducing books, Zusak’s view of Nazi Germany in the early years of the war through both the eyes of Death and a young girl is intriguing and thought provoking. It also addresses the Jewish persecution in a slightly different way. OK, it’s a bit north of 500 pages, but many of those pages are short ones with “Death” commentary, and it’s a decidedly different view of the war. The pages turn quickly.

Level of Misogynism: Moderate.

Dinner: I ain’t cooking German because it’s not my thing, but I’ll take some liberties with this and say I can choose any country they conquered during the first couple years of the war. I’m thinking a big Greek party meal on the patio with a view of the bay.

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, 480 pages

Review quotes: “Gabriel Garcia Marquez meets Umberto Eco meets Jorge Luis Borges for a sprawling magic show” (NY Times) “Anyone who enjoys novels that are scary, erotic, touching, tragic, and thrilling should rush right out to the nearest bookstore and pick up Shadow of the Wind” (Washington Post)

My take: Totally biased, given what I did last summer (that would be my vacation to Spain, not those other things you’re not supposed to mention). This book is set in Barcelona over the years following WWII, as a young boy is growing up and dealing with love, evil characters, mystery, and especially, books. He works in his father’s antiquarian bookstore, makes friends with odd and fascinating people, faces danger and women (sometimes both at once) and tries to reconcile the present with the past. The story is good. The writing is great. I found myself frequently stopping and reading quotes to anyone around me; I found it that well written.

Level of Misogynism: Moderate.

Dinner: Think Spain. Sangria, homemade gazpacho, tapas, various meats, a wonderful spread of tastes and good Rioja.

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, 321 pages

Review quotes: “Joyful in its language, creative in its narration, and affecting in its story, this is a terrific book” (Seattle Times) “…had me riveted to its pages until the book was finished…just read it” (Peter Egan, Road & Track)

My take: This isn’t a book with massive gravitas, but if you want an enjoyable, fast-paced summer read, this is the book of the bunch to plump for. The story is told through the eyes of Enzo, a dog, who is probably smarter than humans but of course can’t actually talk. His “owner” is an amateur race car driver. We see a life story (of the human) as seen from Enzo’s perspective. Sort of a more adult Marley and Me, but don’t let that put you off. It’s not a book that will score at the top of our ratings because it’s not some serious, dark novel. But who cares? You don’t have to like racing to like this book, but if you do, bonus. And, if you don’t like racing, you’re not a real man (remember, Hemingway said “There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games.”)

Level of Misogynism:  N/A

Dinner: A bit of a wild card. Then again, as Enzo and his human love watching Formula One Grands Prix, I can probably pick any track’s country for the dinner. Let’s see…there is a Spanish Grand Prix…

Women by Charles Bukowski, 290 pages

Review quotes: Doesn’t matter. It’s Bukowski.

My take: OK, let’s get past the fact that I can love this book simply for the fact that its title seems anathema to our club, yet it’s written by one of the crustiest misogynists who ever lived. What fun. It is raw, direct, and foul. The level of sex and drinking in this makes Tropic of Cancer look minor league by comparison. What’s not to like about a book that starts out “I was 50 years old and hadn’t been to bed with a woman for four years”, then has our (protagonist? AntiChrist? whatever) go berserk with women. He becomes a famous poet, “reveling in his sudden rock star life, running three hundred hangovers a year, and maintaining a sex life that would cripple Casanova”. You won’t vote for this as best book of the year, but it doesn’t matter. Just don’t let your kids pick it up.

Level of Misogynism: High.

Dinner: Whisky. Beer. Wine. Hard liquor drinks. More whisky. And something to eat to keep it all down.

Interesting criticisms of Superfreakonomics

Just to make our next discussion more lively, check out these criticisms of various parts of Superfreakonomics (not surprisingly, the climate change section has drawn the most fire). I'll be interested to hear what everyone has to say:

http://delong.typepad.com/.services/blog/6a00e551f08003883400e551f080068834/search?filter.q=superfreakonomics

http://rortybomb.wordpress.com/?s=superfreakonomics

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Parenting/pediatric-crash-experts-respond-superfreakonomics/story?id=8867876

The Battle of Grand Avenue

The core of what it is to be human: your life is wondrous, and it won’t last forever.(The Cellist of Sarajevo, paraphrase, page 5)
ONE
Streaming in from scattered daytime haunts, surrounded by a warm, welcoming home full of the smells of good food, the group shares chosen details of their lives, large and small. They pause to remember a local high school baseball player in critical condition at a hospital. Some absent group members are grappling with health issues too, their parents’ or their own. Three around the table share stories of pride in their daughters on memorable and momentous trips: national ski championships in Oregon, a life-changing month in Thailand and the Philippines, continued community-building in a small town in Mexico. Southeast Asia provides the lightest badinage, wandering down the byways of elephant riding, swarming beach vendors, baby back ribs made from real babies (?), and dwarves.
TWO

There is always more than enough good food and good drink. This night, it’s three kinds of lasagna (pesto, artichoke, and “boeuf”, all somehow evocative of woodlands), two kinds of salad, several wines, slivovitz plum brandy, rakia peach brandy, and Karlovacko, a Croatian pilsner in 20-ounce bottles. Later, delicious cakes appear. The men “eat until their stomachs can hold no more” (as characters in the book can only dream of - page 188). Doug, the host, clearly outdoes himself.

THREE

Talk drifts to the book, Stephen Galloway’s The Cellist of Sarajevo. The once harmonious group separates into two distinct camps, like the men in the hills and the people down in the streets. The men in the hills see the book as a finely-wrought work of art, viewing it from above and outside, admiring its technique and its essential distillation of the thoughts and emotions of civilians trapped inside a war. The men in the streets long to inhabit the story and know its characters, resisting its abstract qualities and wishing it had more real history and fully-formed people. Some find themselves passing between the two camps, agreeing with both the lofty praise and the trenchant criticism.

An army of one, sticking to his guns, loaded or not, Stan first reviews another book, one he had advocated choosing a month earlier, like a Serb partisan rehashing Prince Lazar's crushing defeat at the Battle of Kosovo in 1389. The others avert their gazes, unmoved even by vivid tales of flaming buttocks. But Stan's criticisms of the book that was chosen hit home for many (save Doug, who, flabbergasted, finds Stan's approach somewhat "irrational"). Though they may not find it "weak on almost every point", as he does, his assessments of its style and characters clearly set the tone for most of the discussion that follows.

Up in the hills, Armando says, “It fits this time in my life; it’s perfect”, and “I like that it isn’t clear on the history.” Andrew thinks it “extraordinary”, finding the character development “terrific” and saying, “My breath was taken away.” Paul (by email) thinks that “Galloway does a great job of evoking emotions ranging from desperation to hope” and finds Arrow’s end moving. He believes it’s “one of the best crafted and most compelling books [he’s] read in a number of months, and probably the best that [he’s] read of the club selections in the past year.” [Editor’s note: This contrast of "months" vs. "years" seems to indicate that Paul either 1) thinks his non-MBC reading is better than our book club selections, or 2) doesn’t read many of our club’s selections.] Larry (also by email) sees fiction as “exactly the right vehicle” to describe the experience of the siege of Sarajevo. He and Tom A. both point out the nuanced use of dilemmas. Is it better to cling to the past or accept the present? Is it better to die quickly or slowly? At the same time, Larry dislikes the characters' resignation and the book’s lack of resolution, finding Arrow’s final choice especially unconvincing (as does Roy). He wishes the snipers in the hills had been given voice and faces too. Doug praises the book but acknowledges that the structure and occasionally “heavy-handed” writing become obstacles at times.

Dean, and many of his comrades down below in the streets, thinks grayness has seeped too much into the book’s bones. (Oddly, a similar bleakness was also a theme of last month’s Bad Land.) Larry questions whether any of the writing rises to true greatness, finding no passages truly memorable. Several members find the style suffocating and the characters flat, aptly described by George as “caring about the situations but not the characters.” Garth suggests that had he heard a recording of the Albinoni Adagio before reading the book, its remembered sounds might have served as a welcome embellishment to the text’s spare language. He wishes the unrelenting terror (something that Tom J. found to go on far too long) had been combined with more about the war itself. Terry thinks the book is overwrought, verging on maudlin, as if “written by a 15-year-old girl”. Finally, several members point out that, though the book is called The Cellist of Sarajevo, the cellist is little more than a plot device, a cipher.

Later, looking back at passages while writing his summary, the scribe of San Rafael finds more in Kenan and Dragan than he’d remembered. When Dragan sees surprising strength in Emina, when Kenan banters with his wife about buying cakes, when Dragan chooses to believe in a future and says “Good afternoon” to a stranger, or when he realizes he doesn’t wish that he were in Italy - these are choices to remain human. Perhaps these short and rare passages aren’t enough, maybe the ghosts of what the people once were are the ghosts of what the book might have been. But the strongly held and sharply divided opinions about The Cellist of Sarajevo clearly make for a more lively and interesting discussion. As pointed out by several, its modest length also helps, since, for the first time in recent memory, nearly everyone actually finishes the book.

FOUR

For next month, the group chooses life, hope, and excitement, as embodied in Steven Levitt's and Stephen Dubner's SuperFreakonomics, rumored to be the story of an exercise routine accompanied by Rick James music.