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.

March Book Suggestions

Hi Bookmen,

Here are my suggestions for our March book. Two of them, Far Bright Star and The Cellist of Sarajevo, are serious books about war (see descriptions below). Both are relatively short and fairly easy to borrow at the library or purchase on the cheap on line. This Is Where I Leave You is much lighter. Its not as well written, but is a lot of fun. Its a relatively new book, so its tougher to get from the library and might cost you a little more on line. The White Tiger won the 2008 Booker Prize, but don't hold that against it. Its actually a very fun read. I think its pretty easy to borrow or purchase. I can tell you more about the books Wednesday night, if you like.

Doug



Far Bright Star, by Robert Olmstead.

Set in 1916, Far Bright Star follows Napoleon Childs, an aging cavalryman, as he leads an expedition of inexperienced soldiers into the mountains of Mexico to hunt down Pancho Villa and bring him to justice. Though he is seasoned at such missions, things go terribly wrong and the patrol is brutally attacked. After witnessing the demise of his troops, Napoleon is left by his captors to die in the desert.
Through him we enter the conflicted mind of a warrior as he tries to survive against all odds, as he seeks to make sense of a lifetime of senseless wars and to reckon with the reasons a man would choose a life on the battlefield. Olmstead, an award-winning writer, uses his precise, descriptive prose to explore the endurance and fate of the last horse soldiers. The result is a tightly wound novel that is as moving as it is terrifying.

The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway

A spare and haunting, wise and beautiful novel about the endurance of the human spirit and the subtle ways individuals reclaim their humanity in a city ravaged by war.
In a city under siege, four people whose lives have been upended are ultimately reminded of what it is to be human. From his window, a musician sees twenty-two of his friends and neighbors waiting in a breadline. Then, in a flash, they are killed by a mortar attack. In an act of defiance, the man picks up his cello and decides to play at the site of the shelling for twenty-two days, honoring their memory. Elsewhere, a young man leaves home to collect drinking water for his family and, in the face of danger, must weigh the value of generosity against selfish survivalism. A third man, older, sets off in search of bread and distraction and instead runs into a long-ago friend who reminds him of the city he thought he had lost, and the man he once was. As both men are drawn into the orbit of cello music, a fourth character — a young woman, a sniper — holds the fate of the cellist in her hands. As she protects him with her life, her own army prepares to challenge the kind of person she has become.
A novel of great intensity and power, and inspired by a true story, The Cellist of Sarajevo poignantly explores how war can change one's definition of humanity, the effect of music on our emotional endurance, and how a romance with the rituals of daily life can itself be a form of resistance.

This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper.

The death of Judd Foxman's father marks the first time that the entire Foxman family-including Judd's mother, brothers, and sister-have been together in years. Conspicuously absent: Judd's wife, Jen, whose fourteen-month affair with Judd's radio-shock-jock boss has recently become painfully public.
Simultaneously mourning the death of his father and the demise of his marriage, Judd joins the rest of the Foxmans as they reluctantly submit to their patriarch's dying request: to spend the seven days following the funeral together. In the same house. Like a family.
As the week quickly spins out of control, longstanding grudges resurface, secrets are revealed, and old passions reawakened. For Judd, it's a weeklong attempt to make sense of the mess his life has become while trying in vain not to get sucked into the regressive battles of his madly dysfunctional family. All of which would be hard enough without the bomb Jen dropped the day Judd's father died: She's pregnant.


The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga.


Balram Halwai is a complicated man. Servant. Philosopher. Entrepreneur. Murderer. Over the course of seven nights, by the scattered light of a preposterous chandelier, Balram tells us the terrible and transfixing story of how he came to be a success in life — having nothing but his own wits to help him along.
Born in the dark heart of India, Balram gets a break when he is hired as a driver for his village's wealthiest man, two house Pomeranians (Puddles and Cuddles), and the rich man's (very unlucky) son. From behind the wheel of their Honda City car, Balram's new world is a revelation. While his peers flip through the pages of Murder Weekly ("Love — Rape — Revenge!"), barter for girls, drink liquor (Thunderbolt), and perpetuate the Great Rooster Coop of Indian society, Balram watches his employers bribe foreign ministers for tax breaks, barter for girls, drink liquor (single-malt whiskey), and play their own role in the Rooster Coop. Balram learns how to siphon gas, deal with corrupt mechanics, and refill and resell Johnnie Walker Black Label bottles (all but one). He also finds a way out of the Coop that no one else inside it can perceive.
Balram's eyes penetrate India as few outsiders can: the cockroaches and the call centers; the prostitutes and the worshippers; the ancient and Internet cultures; the water buffalo and, trapped in so many kinds of cages that escape is (almost) impossible, the white tiger. And with a charisma as undeniable as it is unexpected, Balram teaches us that religion doesn't create virtue, and money doesn't solve every problem — but decency can still be found in a corrupt world, and you can get what you want out of life if you eavesdrop on the right conversations.

A Progressive Holiday Meal

Acknowledging Capote and Our Cake Boss
Our dinner on December 8 was notable for several reasons: 1) women were present (and the men were well-behaved); 2) the dinner progressed from house to house (thanks to Larry, Terry, and yours truly); 3) Stan never monopolized the conversation (was it Abbie’s influence?); and 4) we ignored our chosen book. Well, all except for Garth, who used women and jewelry as the inspiration for his dessert. Thanks to him, Breakfast at Tiffany's will be forever known as the book that produced The Cake. With strings of edible pearls circling the plate, and silver earrings hanging from a profusion of silver stems, the Cake captivated our wives and quickly became the conversation piece of the evening. And, just as quickly, Garth was inducted into the Panderers Hall of Fame by all of the men present.

The Cake, surrounded by its admirers.

The Dinner

Conceived and hosted by three of us, but supplied and served by each man in attendance, our dinner was a nice entrée to the holiday season. Although we spent no time discussing the book, Capote’s slender novella was the evening’s thematic sideshow. The 1961 film by Blake Edwards spooled endlessly on Larry’s flat screen during appetizers, Garth came dressed in fedora and scarf, and Jana vamped as Holly Golightly (the dark glasses and white dress coat were smashing).

With assignments given out just days in advance, the food and drink were superb. Roast top sirloin, smoked salmon, and honey baked ham shared the bill for main course, but accompanying them were too many excellent dishes to list. Instead, I will offer a few observations:

1.  Larry’s antipasti and Dean’s baked Camembert and Brie were so vigilantly guarded by the women that certain men had to make do with beer and wine (Chris, that was a nice Xmas Ale!).

2.  The usual overachievers simply couldn’t help themselves. Tom J grilled his vegetables on site like a short order cook; Stan roasted enough new potatoes to feed Napoleon’s army; Tom A prepared two different side dishes and presented both with recipes attached; and, finally, John not only prepared 3 different sauces for his smoked salmon, but he also typed up name cards for each.

3.  In the unsung heroes department, George and Paul surprised everyone with distinctive salads that appeased the discriminating palates of our wives.

4.  Garth’s showy confection may have stolen the limelight, but Terry’s seasonally dressed cupcakes (thanks, Gail!) and Armando’s shockingly rich chocolate ganache were equally enjoyed, especially with help from Roy’s after-dinner spirits and George’s Ice Wine.

Next Up

We will spend January in Tahoe, and will return in February to tackle Jonathan Raban’s Bad Land. His outsider’s account of the promise and disappointment of the American west was the surprise pick from a compelling list of titles compiled by Tom A.

The Evening in Pictures

In a rare moment, Stan is seen listening intently while Theresa shakes her head in disbelief. At back, John sets out the name cards for his sauces.

Terry asks Tom J to repeat what he told Stan.

Obviously, it must have been fascinating.

George poses, drink in hand, and wonders 

how many wrapped books he can purloin.

Standing around doing nothing….it’s what I'm best at,

and Terry seems to agree.

Roy Prepares a Capital Meal

Acknowledgments
Dinner last night was a superb feast of midwestern fusion. With a nod to In Cold Blood’s western Kansas setting, but with a decided bias towards his own state of Indiana, Roy delivered roast chicken, roast pork, and roast ribs—all Manhattan style. The accompanying sides were tastily updated renditions of 1950’s staples: green beans, spinach, and scalloped potatoes. Out of fidelity to our book, Roy’s selection of beverages naturally included Orange Blossoms (orange pop and vodka)—a road trip favorite of Dick Hickock and Perry Smith. But it was Roy's grappa (distilled using grapes skins and stems from Tom J) and house bourbon that provided the end-of-evening lubricant. Sorry, Paul, but your bottles of Gallo (however clever in the pun department) never made it to the table.

We were missing a few men last night, including our good friend John, whose daughter was undergoing corrective surgery for scoliosis. While he sat at the hospital keeping vigil, we kept one for him (aided by the grappa and bourbon). With Cat’s surgery over and an excellent prognosis ahead, we look forward to having John back in our midst. As for Tom A and Garth, your absences were barely excusable. Next time, when forced to choose between MBC and your children, remember that a high school concert is as easily recorded as attended. And, as for Peter, if you missed our dinner in pursuit of your dream to run a 5-minute mile at age 50, please hang up your spikes and return to the fold at once. A cold, dark high school track is no place for an effete bookman.

The Book
Truman Capote confirmed his reputation as a serious writer with the 1965 publication of In Cold Blood. His so-called “nonfiction novel” about the killings in Holcomb, Kansas mesmerized the nation during its serialization in The New Yorker and divided many on his particular approach to “reportage” (thanks for that reference, Stan). Some objected to his artistic license, and others were offended by his easy familiarity with his subjects. But, for many Americans in 1965, Capote’s gravest offense was to humanize two killers as a rejoinder to (and critique of ) society’s resort to capital punishment. To his critics, the book's title was devoid of its intended irony.

As a group, we were not so divided. Capote’s original take on the Kansas killings was compulsively readable and a fascinating study of time and place. Maybe, as some suggested, we’re too inured to the kind of violence depicted by Capote to be offended by his narrative. Or, like Terry, we’ve read enough true crime (good and bad) to appreciate what a stunning achievement ICB represented in 1965. As for Capote’s politics, his concerns about capital punishment have become today's orthodoxy. Whether we agree with Roy’s fantastically bleak assessment of our penal system, many of us still have stronger misgivings about the execution of criminals than did our parents in 1965.

Capote's novel drew praise from all quarters except Paul, who felt that Capote's account was emotionally flat. Nevertheless, Paul seemed pleased that ICB represented a return to our usual fare of misogynistic, deeply flawed primary characters. During our roundtable rating, it was noted that ICB had the potential to steal top honors from Blindness, our highest rated book to date. So as not to taint the outcome (Bindness was his selection, you may recall), Stan initially abstained from voting only to belatedly insist that his 8 had been ignored. The upshot: ICB tied Blindness during our meeting, but overtook it when I later received Tom A's email giving it a 9. Even counting Stan's 8, Capote's true crime classic eked out an 8.4 and now holds the pole position in the Man Book Club ratings contest.

Next Up
Our next meeting is a joint affair with the women's book group to which some of us are affiliated (by marriage only). Given the choice of reading Truman Capote's enduring novella, Breakfast at Tiffany's, and Bill Bryson's memoir, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, the women ignored one of America's foremost humorists in favor of a book whose brevity and title reference to expensive jewelry seem apt as we enter another holiday season.