Glenn's Hiro

Acknowledgments
Approaching the dog days of summer, with several of us already gone on vacation, Glenn readied his home and welcomed a smaller-than-usual contingent Tuesday night. Well, on second thought, he apparently didn’t ready his home. With his nicely furnished patio still awaiting its bluestone installation, and with a step riser that would have intimidated a Chinese gymnast, Glenn dared us to complain. And none did, as we were much too preoccupied with his food and drink and company to care. Thank you for hosting, Glenn.

Without our resident chemist (Roy went to Hawaii to avoid reading this month’s selection), the drink was merely fine. The food, however, deftly mirrored Uncle Enzo’s fare in Snow Crash. But with delivery by Pico instead of Hiro, taste and texture were both outstanding. As were the vanilla and blueberries suffused with raspberry liqueur. Not content with these amuse bouches, Glenn introduced us to his excellent friend, Judd, an import from Mill Valley who admitted to a fondness for SciFi but who proved to be no Stephenson apologist.

These acknowledgments wouldn't be complete without saluting George's impromptu discourse on the re-creation of an ancient Athenian trireme. He promises more at his upcoming lecture at the St. Francis Yacht Club. And we remain impressed by Glenn's passionate embrace of all things robotic (and that is NOT a reference to Jana, his lovely and intelligent wife).

The Book
Stephenson’s first breakthrough novel, Snow Crash, challenged us. Ostensibly about a not-too-distant society whose culture and institutions have been overtaken by monopolists and hegemonists, Snow Crash describes a real world that is threatened by its parallel, virtual world. The book is long, peopled with techno-thrill junkies, freighted with a mixture of tech talk and Sumerian myth, and it features a plot that could have been served up in half the pages. Did I say it was long? (Editor’s Note: Having read only 230/470 of this novel, I’m still confident I absorbed enough.)

Let’s start with the positive. First, George read it and then convinced his 14-year old son to read it. As a group, we weren’t as impressionable as Evan, but several of us felt rewarded by the effort. Those who liked it tended to be steeped in SciFi, although some had their quibbles with Stephenson’s lengthy, digressive, and slightly baroque style and structure. Larry, who proudly read this precocious digital age novel on his Kindle, described it as “The DaVinci Code on steroids.” Not exactly a ringing endorsement (though Larry might try re-reading The DaVinci Code on his Kindle to see if it's the digital medium that adds the steroids). John, on the other hand, was impressed with Stephenson’s ability to construct a virtual world that extends and distorts our physical world (e.g., the actual replication and manipulation of viruses, language, and even human behavior by virtual means). Judd, who confessed to reading Stephenson’s massive Cryptonomicon (easily twice the length of Snow Crash) and also meeting Stephenson at Book Passage, admitted that Stephenson’s writing has matured since his early efforts. Indeed, Judd’s assessment of SciFi literature validated my own sense of the genre: despite a soaring imagination, the writing quality can be quite uneven.

Everyone who read Snow Crash (and that includes Jack and Dean, who each claimed to have reached p. 63) found Stephenson's 1992 novel amazingly prescient. His Metaverse is eerily similar to the virtual worlds that now populate the cyberspace we’re familiar with. As Glenn noted, the avatars adopted by our children in Club Penguin are just a half step away from the characters’ avatars that fill Stephenson’s Metaverse. And the regular blurring of Metaverse and Reality in Snow Crash is not only intentional, but may be yet another example of Stephenson’s prescience.

In the end, Snow Crash had its adherents but it failed to stimulate a strong response. Our rating of 5.8 puts it below the middle of the pack.

Next Up
Since we are taking August off, we agreed to Doug’s suggestion that we share titles that make for ideal summer reads. No literary awards, no moody narrators, no big words—just easy, uncomplicated stories that read well on the beach or in the mountains. I wish I could capture some of what was said about the titles that were proffered, but instead I’ll trust you to remember and reach for the books that you found most intriguing. So, in no particular order and without referencing authors, here are the titles I was able to scribble onto my Post-It: Any book by Lee Child, The Alchemist, Blood Sucking Fiends, God’s Middle Finger, The Call of the Wild, The Old Man and the Sea, Into the Wild, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, Nature Girl/Tourist Season, Blink, North Dallas Forty, Richistan, Stiff, Bonk, Peyton Place, Endurance, Into the Void, and Three Cups of Tea.

For September, Terry gave us three distinct choices: Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail (Hunter S. Thompson), Ironweed (William Kennedy), and High Jinx (William F. Buckley). Without Terry present to both defend and proselytize, we bickered over page length, topicality, relevance, and even (sacrilegiously) asked ourselves if we could pick a different book altogether. Tom rushed to defend the integrity of Terry’s list and we quickly fell in line. By the narrowest of margins, Kennedy’s 1984 Pulitzer winner won out over Thompson’s 1972 political screed. Ironically, Kennedy and Thompson were quite close friends. Maybe that’s why we had such difficulty picking one over the other. We’ll find out in September if our choice is vindicated.

Book suggestions for September

I have 3 suggestions, each quite different from the other.

First, one of my favorite fiction authors for his Blackford Oakes novels is William F. Buckley. Who else could write a sex scene that involves Queen Elizabeth (not the book I'm recommending). So, if the closest you ever get a conservative is to check the next box over on the ballot, try the novel, High Jinx, by William F. Buckley.

Or, if light and action packed isn't your cuppa, how about Ironweed by William Kennedy. It will remind you why you don't live in Albany, NY.

And, rounding out the trio with a political campaign themed read is Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail by Hunter S. Thompson. It's a Gonzo-journalism fueled coverage of the 1972 presidential campaign between Geo McGovern and Richard Nixon. I was inspired by seeing the portrait of Thompson's life at The Rafael last week.

I won't be at the club meeting Tuesday (son's 18th birthday) but will deputize Glenn to defend my honor and book choices.

Jack proves there's nothing rotten in the state of Denmark

Acknowledgments
Jack threw open his suburban Orebyslot on Tuesday and helped us celebrate Stegner’s quasi-autobiographical journey to Denmark by offering plenty of Danish trimmings to go with his All-American grilled sausages and chicken. With warm weather and idyllic golf course views, the pickled herring, Danish blue cheese, and Carlsberg on ice evoked a summer night at the Tivoli Gardens. Indeed, the mood turned romantic on the patio when one of us reminisced about his Danish tryst years ago…but I shall stop before I violate our rules of disclosure.

Additional thanks to John and Roy, who each brought bottles of flavored aquavit (let’s use the Swedish spelling since no one wants to say “aqvavit”) to complement Jack’s bottle encased in a slab of ice. (Note to Jack: I would be tempted to sneer at any man who apes Martha Stewart, but your clever adaptation of her party trick certainly captured my fancy.)

And, finally, a big thanks to the multi-talented Armando, who cajoled us into a photo shoot by the pool and later managed to photoshop Peter in and John’s devil horns out. Scroll to the bottom of the blog to see the results.

The Book
The Spectator Bird drew a strong rating for the simple reason that a record number (5 of 15) failed to finish the book and therefore excused themselves from the voting. Had they read it, I suspect the average would have fallen below 7.3. I also think some gave the book the benefit of the doubt simply because it was Stegner, everyone’s favorite West Coast novelist-cum-environmentalist. (Witness both Garth and Stan, who loudly rounded up from 7.5 to 8.)

The book was divisive in other ways (beyond its inability to hold everyone’s attention for a scant 214 pages). Some liked the story’s movement between present and past using a 20-year old travel journal; others found it tedious and contrived. Some sympathized with the aging narrator’s perspective; others felt he was simply crabby (likening him to Steinbeck in Travels With Charley). Finally, some found inspiration (or at least closure) by the end, while others were left wanting. Most everyone, though, was impressed by the writing. Glenn and George found plenty of passages worth reflecting on, with Glenn going so far as to look up the English translation of the last line in Goethe’s Faust in order to make sense of the German version quoted by Stegner. Whether it was the quality of the writing or Stegner’s reputation, only Dan was sufficiently underwhelmed that he gave the book a 5; the rest of us gave it a 7 or 8.

Maybe The Spectator Bird didn’t match the breadth or insight of Angle of Repose (according to John), Crossing to Safety (me), or Big Rock Candy Mountain (Stan, I think), but its reflections on memory, aging, and the enduring power of relationships are vintage Stegner. That’s, of course, my humble opinion.

Next Up
Glenn proposed three eclectic titles for next month (Snow Crash, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and Flatland) and, worried that we had too little to choose from, he augmented his list with two more interesting possibilities: Atul Gawande’s Complications and Roddy Doyle’s Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha. Sometimes too much of a good thing is too much of a good thing. Paralyzed with indecision, we eventually culled through the original titles and came up solidly in favor of Neal Stephenson’s cyberpunk/sci-fi classic, Snow Crash. I do hope our selection won’t require us to dine virtually next month.

Glenn's Book Suggestions

The three books that I'd like to recommend are, like me, from three completely different categories. The first choice, Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, is one of the first cyber-punk novels that inspired movies like the Matrix, Terminator II and Minority Report. It's a bit long at 440 pages but it moves 'blindingly' fast. The second choice, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon, breaks the 500 page rule completely at 639 pages. In defense of this choice, this Pulitzer prize winning book reads like a mystery that you can't put down. The writing is amazing and you get to learn about comic books during the 30's. The last choice, Flatland by Edwin Abbott, was first published in 1880. It's only 96 pages long and is probably the only geometry book you'll ever enjoy reading. It's the story of a two-dimensional world inhabited by geometric beings that believe their planar world is all there is. One being is able to escape Flatland and see their world from a new perspective. Aside from the math, it really makes you think about perspective and what happens when women are careless (I'm not kidding).

See you Tuesday.

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.