Chez Stan, Blind But Not Hungry

Acknowledgments
Stan’s baronial residence could not have contrasted more sharply with the rapid physical decay depicted in Jose Saramago’s Blindness. Had we a stronger sense of justice last night, we would have given our beef tri tip and roasted new potatoes to the cyclone victims in Myanmar. Instead, we tucked in, helped ourselves to ice cream, and promised to support Garth’s upcoming Burmese fashion show fundraiser. (Although his daughter may be worried about his preference for fem couture, we know Garth’s intentions are honorable.)

Stan, thanks for feeding the 14 of us as we sorted through the pain and triumph of Blindness. However, your insistence that we complete our roundtable discussion with our eyes closed may have overly stimulated certain other senses. When I opened my eyes, my plate was empty. The obvious suspect was the man seated to my left, who arrived with a see-through gauze blindfold and a tendency to thievery. If I had one of Garth’s stiletto heels, I might have planted it in John's thigh.

The Book
Although Saramago’s plot is compelling (an epidemic strikes a city, renders its inhabitants blind, and creates a profound loss of social order), several in the group complained that the book was slow going. The absence of conventional punctuation, the elliptical dialogue, and the intentional omission of character names made the act of reading more challenging.

While Roy criticized the writing as “mechanical” and Doug was surprised at his own lack of progress, Jack praised the book as an excellent sleeping aid. (I noted, with obvious insight, that the removal of punctuation was a conscious attempt by Saramago to eliminate visual cues for his readers. But I was quickly informed that all of his books are written this way. That ended my insight for the evening.)

Most of us, however, got used to the narrative style and were absorbed by the story and its parallels to the Holocaust and any number of other fascist and authoritarian-inspired tragedies of the last century. Armando and Glenn both read this novel in overtly political terms, with Glenn (or was it Armando?) discovering a cautionary tale perfect for the current election cycle. Glenn’s disclosure that Saramago is an atheist with a pessimistic view of mankind came as no surprise, particularly given the jarring revelation during the novel's scene in the church. Doug, who admitted his bias against political fiction, was intrigued by the plot but underwhelmed by Saramago’s delivery.

The interesting result of our discussion was how highly we rated this book despite a few strong dissents (Roy felt generous giving it a 3!). Even with conservative numbers from Dean, Jack, and Doug, the book drew more 9's and 10's than any book to date. Stan, Terry, Glenn, and Larry all ranked it as their book of the year. With an 8.3 rating, Blindness has overtaken The Great Gatsby and Tortilla Curtain. Beyond its high rating, Blindness also seemed to provoke more topical discussion than any other book on our list.

Next Up

For next month, Jack asked us to consider The Spectator Bird by Wallace Stegner, as well as McGuane’s The Bushwhacked Piano and O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. The virtue of each choice, as we enter the summer season, is its brevity. So, in gratitude, we agreed to take up Stegner’s 1976 National Book Award winner. For the ambitious engineers in our group, extra credit will be awarded if you also read Angle of Repose and come prepared to explain the title.

Jack's Book Suggestions

I've got three recommended choices for June reading. Since we're heading into the busy summer season, I've chosen 3 relatively short books, all in the 200+/- page range (you're welcome in advance). These could be easily read on the beach. My first choice, and the one I hope the group will choose, is The Spectator Bird by Wallace Stegner. It won the National Book Award. Stegner is one of my favorite authors. Angle of Repose is one of my all time favorites, but it exceeds the 500 page limit. I read Spectator Bird about 20 years ago and would look forward to re-reading. My other choices are: The Bushwhacked Piano by Thomas McGuane (winner of the Richard and Hilda Rosenthal Foundation Award), a light-hearted, sad/funny book that is fun to read. Finally, my other suggestion is The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, a trove of Vietnam war related accounts (fictional) on a handful of veterans that are very powerful. Amazon has info on all of these. See you Tuesday.
Jack

Back to Waco, by George!

Acknowledgments
George had warned us that the food theme for Steve Martin’s memoir would be geographic, so none of us was expecting any funny stuff. Last Tuesday, he delivered on his promise, and served up pulled pork and slaw right out of Martin’s hometown of Waco, Texas. I’m not sure where Stephanie’s chocolate-laced pecan pie hailed from, but I’m sure Steve Martin would have approved.

In my sampling afterwards, I heard universal acclaim for the pulled pork. Indeed, Garth fell off his vegetarian wagon in order to partake! For our next meeting, Stan may have to put him on a diet of carrots and pureed bitterroot.

Our acknowledgments would not be complete without commenting on the three ferocious canines that greeted us at the door. In particular, we were absorbed by the Pug Gymnastics orchestrated by Stephanie in the back yard. An appearance on David Letterman is imminent, I'm sure.

The Book
I’ll confess that I groaned when we rejected Cormac McCarthy in favor of Steve Martin’s sawed-off memoir. My bad attitude persisted as I read the book and found myself underwhelmed. I was heartened to discover that most of you felt the same way, if for different reasons.

We were all impressed by Martin’s exposition. Stan summed up our feelings when he described Martin as a fine technician. His prose was carefully wrought and he took us through the 1960’s and 1970’s with a clear sense of direction. But while we got an A-to-Z recitation of what it required for Martin to develop into an accomplished comedian, the personal Steve Martin was never on full display. Even his callow years at Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm were less about the wonder of growing up and more about specific magic tricks, his stagecraft, and a few of his fellow travelers. To his credit, George fell on his sword and apologized for proposing this pleasant diversion from our normally meaty fare (again, glad to have you aboard, Garth).

Steve Martin had his defenders, though. Chief among them were Jack and Stan, who both admitted that their admiration for Martin determined their rating for the book (each an 8). Notwithstanding these victims of Martin’s cult of personality, our overall rating was a middling 5.8 (which includes Jeff’s absentee vote of 6).

Our dinner discussion was bracketed by viewing clips from Martin’s Tonight Show and his SNL appearances. Thanks to Glenn and Tom for the content, and to Larry for bringing a phonograph, which proved so unnecessary in this age of Youtube and digital downloads.

Next Up
For our next selection, Stan offered up two wildly different products of the counterculture era: Dickey’s Deliverance and the Autobiography of Malcolm X. Neither got us too excited, but his third choice did. We picked Blindness by Jose Saramago, a past winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature. When we meet next at Stan’s, let’s come in dark glasses and consider what it means to live in a sightless world.

Doug Wins Our Verdict

Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Doug for his gracious hospitality last night. He resisted the temptation to feed us along party lines (i.e., Italian for the right wingers and Thai for the left leaners) and instead heaped mounds of non-partisan poultry and beef on platters and invited us to make our selections. That, combined with twice-baked potatoes and far too many dessert choices, may have encouraged gluttony over moderation. (At least it did for this intemperate centrist.)

While we enjoyed Doug's beautiful home, we sympathized with the inordinate investment he's made behind the walls. Doug, at least you have Al Stewart’s haunting melodies to motivate you as you make his home yours.

The Book
The Nine, Toobin’s recent expose of the Supreme Court, prompted more vigorous discussion than I ever imagined. In a gathering of 13 men (with only 2 lawyers to keep us honest), I assumed that the court’s personalities and issues would barely keep our attention. I was wrong.

Doug provoked us from the start by asking if we could identify Toobin’s sources and therefore his sympathies. We all chimed in with some obvious candidates (Breyer, Kennedy) and concluded that since he was most sympathetic to O’Connor, he must have spent a lot of time in Phoenix. Since Toobin writes with no attribution, Doug’s question forced us all to recognize the limits of Toobin’s reporting.

The unabashed politics of the Supreme Court aroused some comment. For people with life tenure, the members of the court show themselves surprisingly reactive to the events of the day. Larry echoed Toobin’s observation that O’Connor, while less beholden to precedent, usually sought to broker a compromise that provided guidance to the lower courts. Jack wondered whether the court, having grown more conservative since O’Connor’s departure, would soon be marginalized by more liberal executive and legislative branches. Glenn seemed taken with the notion that the court, regardless of its politics, moves more slowly in order to temper Congress’ gyrations.

Peter questioned the representative authority of an institution that repeatedly takes its members (and its clerks) from the same half dozen elite law schools. Perhaps in response to Peter’s understandable ignorance (and our poor memories), Tom pulled out his daughter’s 8th grade US History text and held forth on the constitution and each of its 27 amendments. Get ready for a quiz at the next meeting, fellows. I hear Tom is a sucker for questions on the scope of the 14th Amendment….

We gave this book a 6.5, a solid but unspectacular rating. The subject matter kept most guys interested, but Garth lamented the formulaic chapter transitions, John described the narration as tedious, and I yearned for a little more substance.

Next Up
George introduced a twist in our usual book selection process. Instead of starting with proposed titles, he offered us three possible dinner menus for our next meeting. To a man, we opted for the African stew paired with aphrodisiacal gazelle horns (as opposed to the short ribs or the enchilada stacks). When presented with the literary counterpart for each menu, we abandoned our palate in favor of our funny bone. Yes, gentlemen, my prediction came true: you eagerly raised your hands for Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up and you rejected a title from Cormac McCarthy (No Country for Old Men) as well as an African coming-of-age story (Beah’s A Long Way Gone).

George’s clever departure from our selection criteria was worthy of Chief Justice Earl Warren. No strict constructionist, George (like Warren) made new MBC law when he elevated Steve Martin to the level of Cormac McCarthy. Well, we can only hope that Stan rediscovers our original intent upon his return from Brazil.

Roy's Our Gatsby

Acknowledgments
Last night Roy’s hospitality was like coming home. No women, no children—just a house full of men and distilled spirits and food fit for kings. The Dungeness crab, pasta, and assorted sides were all we needed to feel as generously treated as Jay Gatsby’s guests. Had Roy turned the pool lights on, we might have jumped in and made for East Egg.

Roy, thank you for your hospitality and for the insider’s tour of your distillery, er, laboratory. Perhaps someday we’ll also see the armory. In the meantime, we’re content knowing that yours is the sanctuary we’ll retreat to next time the lights go off.

(But if our lights do go off, we know that Garth's won't. He was simply stunning in his electroluminescent smoking jacket. If only Roy had made good on his threat to wear pink last night. The two of them might have decamped to the Castro Theatre after our meeting.)

The Book
Our discussion of The Great Gatsby started off in two venues. At my table, there seemed to be some question about whether it deserved the recognition it’s received. Peter certainly didn’t think so, and Doug’s description of Fitzgerald’s troubled last years eking out a living in Hollywood wasn’t inspiring.

When our groups joined together, I asked if this book deserved its position in the pantheon of great American novels. The initial reaction was underwhelming, but the final tally produced a huge thumbs-up. With a 7.7 rating, TGG takes top honors to date.

Despite my encounter with Roy’s unadulterated gin, I remember a few of the sentiments from our run around the table. But I’m already confusing them with comments made during the Quiz Reveal that followed. So, here’s my selective mash-up:

Our two power engineers (Tom and Dean) used almost identical language to express their fondness for the book and its brevity, with Dean also noting that the characters’ unrealized ambitions find a parallel in the lives of middle aged men everywhere. (How dare you call us middle-aged, Dean!)

Roy, evidently addled by exposure to Red Line synthetic lubricants, couldn’t separate Jay Gatsby from Coleman Silk in The Human Stain. Terry, whose Harvard education omitted TGG, was dismayed to learn that motor oil now costs more than $1.98/qt.

Larry faulted Fitzgerald for elongating a short story into a novel. Indeed, he called it a “novella,” a term he picked up during those interminable PTA meetings in the school library. Peter, still suffering from either altitude sickness or ethnocentrism, felt that TGG was a disappointingly incomplete work. Garth rejected Fitzgerald’s "vacuous" caricature of the American Dream in favor of…yes…the version touted for Burning Man 2008!

Doug’s sympathy with the characters’ Midwest/East Coast perspectives was lost on us as we marveled at all of his hockey injuries, including the nicked carotid artery. Jeff (Andover) and George (Redwood), both participants in that most elite of sports (yes, I speak of the crew), opined on the class tensions in TGG. No irony there.

I forget the commentary from Stan and Armando, as I was more intrigued by their later references to waxing styles in Brazil and using Zig Zag papers as art media. Finally, Dan, even if you are worth only $49.95 to your wife, your empathy for the Wilson character is ours, too.

Next Up
Doug gave us three outstanding options. For fiction, he proposed Russo’s Nobody’s Fool. For non-fiction, he offered The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin. And in the history category, he proposed Ellis’ Founding Brothers. Our choice was surprisingly easy: we voted overwhelmingly for The Nine. So, as we explore the personalities sitting atop the least scrutinized branch of government, let’s thank Doug for steering us (temporarily) away from fiction.