Major Matt Mason – Moon Mission

Major Matt Mason – Moon Mission by George S. Elrick (1968) “A Big Little Book”—were these small but thick (3½ x 5 inch, 250 pages) illustrated kids’ books—with color illustrations on every other page—and good ones! They were often based on a TV show or movie, but this one was a Mattel action figure (doll)—a six-inch, rubber, Moon-based astronaut. Maybe there was a cartoon? I don’t remember. But anyway, I had this book as a kid, and it freaked me the fuck out! I left if behind, but bought this copy, recently, to read—to see if my weird memories of it had merit. And… actually, it’s weirder than I remember! It’s got an overall oppressive, disturbing tone. Well, that’s The Moon for you—a bleak place—but when there’s giant, tunneling worms, it gets worse. There’s an ongoing joke about how unappetizing the algae cakes are—a big part of the Moon settlers’ diet—but the humor barely lightens the mood. The grim tale centers on this guy living in isolation who loses his mind. We later find out… wait, I’m not going to give away the oddest wrinkle in the story. Anyway, his sister, the one woman astronaut (at least that we see) is who the reader most identifies with, as she’s always freaking out. Also, we see a lot of her in her underwear—it’s a little intimate. Later, she faints, and Matt Mason (who’s kind of a stone-stoic dud) has to carry her for pages and pages—quite a feat, until we remember it’s The Moon—so she probably weighs as much as a sack of algae cakes. Oh, and I didn’t even mention the giant rabbits!

1.9.25

The New Adventures of the Mad Scientists’ Club

The New Adventures of the Mad Scientists’ Club by Bertrand R. Brinley (1968) I vaguely remember having to hustle to get this book, back in the 1970s—I think my mom helped me. I was a big fan of the first MSC adventures, so this sequel was very exciting. The cover (by excellent illustrator Leonard Shortall) shows them working on a mini-submarine—what could be more exciting?! And dangerous! The (too infrequent) inside illustrations are (like the first book) by Charles Geer, and really add to the overall MSC world. Five stories, and they’re pretty long—almost too drawn-out, sometimes, but they at least don’t skimp on realization. The kids do some even more dangerous stuff, including foiling a bank robbery and terrorizing the entire region with a fake UFO. Like the first book, they are in conflict with the local adults and authorities—and also, their rival gang—sometimes a formidable opponent. One of my favorite characters is their adult friend Zeke Boniface, who runs a junkyard with style—the kind of guy parents might not want kids hanging out with—though he’s a good guy and more than capable. I didn’t realize (or forgot) that there are actually two more MSC books, which came out later (1974) and way later (2005) and they don’t look impossible to find—so maybe I’ll get ahold of those books someday.

12.10.24

Beautiful World, Where Are You

Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney (2021) Occasionally, I try to read something that’s contemporary, and popular, and by a young author. I didn’t know anything about Sally Rooney, but I heard that she’s very popular with readers, and she’s Irish, and also, half my age. I chose this book because it’s about a writer—and I often like books about writers. The writer character, here, Alice, is somewhat troubled, and the chapters go back and forth between her and her good friend, Eileen, who works for a magazine, and there is a lot in the form of their email correspondence. I’m not generally a fan of “epistolary” elements in novels, but I liked it a lot in this book—for me it was the most enjoyable part, because both of these characters are highly intelligent—and also searching, troubled, learning—and they expressed themselves very intimately and complexly via their emails—these are good letters! There are two men main characters as well—one, an old friend of them both—and the other, a new friend of Alice’s, met via online dating. He is a real oddball—at first annoying—but he becomes more complex and sympathetic as the book progresses. Something struck me as funny. I was thinking, if an author is known for naturalism and subtlety, you probably read a book entirely differently than if they’re known for a buildup to explosive, shocking violence. I didn’t know in this case—so this character had me worried! And then, if they’re known for sexually explicit content, you’re expecting something else, perhaps. For a while, I was wondering if this was going to turn into a contemporary Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969) (a movie I was a little young for, at the time, but caught up with the MAD Magazine version). As it went along, I felt like I slowly got to know the characters more, like people you know in life, and I really did start to care about them all. Some of their concerns (love, relationships), I’m a little through with (perhaps sadly?) by now, but there are other parts of them I related to intensely—I got to know them—the heart of the book for me.

12.5.24

Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk

Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk by Kathleen Hanna (2024) I’d imagine most people coming to this book to be fans of Kathleen Hanna, her bands, and/or her zines, writing, riot grrrl stuff, etc. Somehow, I missed Bikini Kill and Le Tigre back when I was listening to a lot of new music—well, I missed a lot of stuff, and continue to. So, not being a fan, it took me awhile to make the connection to Kathleen Hanna, though I’d heard about her, here and there, with all she’s involved in, and with this book coming out. She was on a podcast (WTF), and I really liked the conversation, so I thought I’d check this out. I seem to read a lot of musician memoirs and biographies, for whatever reason—I guess I like reading about the lives of musicians! Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, after the podcast, but I was impressed with how engaging this book was—I feel like it’s cliché-y to say it, but it reads like a thriller (and I never read thrillers) but it’s exactly that—it’s riveting. Maybe more so in that it’s autobiography—I mean, even if it was fiction, there’s a truth to it that feels undeniable. A lot of her successes and traumas are familiar, but the specifics here! I mean, sadly, everyone knows stories of sexual abuse, sexual assault, rape—but hearing these accounts in this book horrified me, made me angry and sad. As a man, this is not firsthand experience. As well as that, just her accounts of various abuse, being stalked, attacked, and just verbally harassed—it’s all very sobering, at best, and often sickening. And then, with every layer of success, the shit she’d get from both men and women, even former friends and collaborators. Fortunately, aside from that, there is tons of inspiring and joyful stuff, and even some hilarious and goofy adventures. The book is never close to being boring, and you’ll learn a lot, as well. Some great insights into mental health (I jokingly thought she could have titled it: Learning to Be a Friend to Myself.) Also, illness and health stuff—which I won’t give away—that reads like a particularly harrowing mystery. And for fans of any kind of music, and musicians, that’s, of course, at the heart of the book.

11.26.24

Medallion Status

Medallion Status by John Hodgman (2019) I might have not even picked this one up had I really thought about the title or known that it refers specifically to frequent flyer programs on some airline—as there’s almost nothing that interests me less—but having really liked Hodgman’s Vacationland book, I thought I’d check it out. It kinda presents itself as a sequel—with a similar title format. The full title is: Medallion Status: True Stories from Secret Rooms—that’s got to sell books—especially the “secret rooms” part—to me, I’ll buy almost any book with that in the title. Interestingly, during one of the chapters, he talks about how easy Vacationland was to write vs. how hard this one was to write—for various reasons, of course—but that’s the kind of thing I like. Even though the first couple of chapters didn’t interest me that much, just his whole writing style and how in depth he goes—and takes each episode to beyond its logical conclusion to somewhere entirely else—I like that a lot! He’s funny, of course, but can be serious at the same time, and even sad, and tragic at times—but in the end, always uplifting, and healthy (in that laughing is healthy). And besides the airlines obsession, he also delves into (in depth!) a lot of stuff. There is a lot here, and really, I enjoyed it all, just some chapters more than others based, of course, on my own experiences. I liked his stuff about the town in Maine where he lives, and I don’t even live in Maine, nor in a small town, but I find all that fascinating. Another one I especially liked was his observations about auditioning for acting parts. And then, one of my favorite bits was about his being freaked out when thinking about the abandoned underwater animatronic elements of the Disney World 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride. I think it was at Disney World, in Florida—well, that’s where I visited as a 12-year-old—and at that time, the 20,000 Leagues ride was broken down, so I never got to go on that one, and I always regretted it—that submarine was awesome, and I loved the movie. Maybe they were fixing the underwater robot fish, I don’t know, and maybe they would have similarly freaked me out—maybe I just dodged a trauma bullet there.

11.14.24

The Message in the Hollow Oak

The Message in the Hollow Oak by Carolyn Keene (1935) After that last Nancy Drew book bummed me out, I decided not to read them in order, and I only picked this one up because I started another kids’ book about hiding something in an old oak tree. Plus, it seemed like it might be a good autumn book to read. In a contest, Nancy wins some real-estate in Canada, and once she finds out it might actually be valuable, she gets “gold fever” and is determined to visit there with her chums. A local creep starts trying to get the deed from her, and on the way to Canada there’s a huge trainwreck! Nancy’s new friend, a writer, is nearly killed—and helping her, along with another new friend—not to mention surveying her land—she’s got a lot on her plate in this one! The hollow oak business is stretched within an inch of its life. There must have been something good here, because I kept reading—it helped not being too riddled with offensive stereotypes, save maybe for the notion that Canada must be populated by like 100 people—a good percentage of them corrupt. I can live with some pretty outrageous coincidences in these kids’ books, but this one really pushes it. On the positive side, there’s a bad guy named “Buck Sawtice,” of the Yellow Dawn Company. Bess and George are along, and one of them has a pretty good line, but I can’t remember it now. Carson Drew also gets directly involved, and I’m sorry to say he’s kind of a bummer.

11.10.24

Mystery in the Pirate Oak

Mystery in the Pirate Oak by Helen Fuller Orton (1949) An older Scholastic Book Services for younger kids than the kids’ books that I’m used to reading—two little kids on the cover (dead giveaway)—however, some fairly mature themes. The reason I picked it up, I’m sure, is because there’s also a tree fort—in a gnarly, old oak tree. It’s more of a platform than a treehouse, but better than a social media platform. I love treehouses. The story turns out to have a lot of complexity for a short book—including stamp collecting, an old legend, a new friend who is an old person, and a new friend who’s a spoiled rich kid. The brother and sister main characters have an alive mother, for a change—though their dad is dead. Their new rich kid friend, however, does have a dead mother (I’ve been keeping a tally). For some crazy reason, I had the inspiration to read a Nancy Drew book—The Message in the Hollow Oak—at the exact same time—I suppose to see if there was any connection, or if the older book (Nancy Drew) influenced this one. No doubt it did, to some degree—but then, I bet there are countless kids’ books out there about people hiding things in old oak trees—even though… has that ever really happened? Oh, the other good thing about this book—there was a really major thunderstorm. That and the treehouse.

11.5.24

Travels with Charley

Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck (1962) I guess I kind of dismissed this book because it was so popular, and later-career, and about a poodle—so I’m thinking Lite Beer and Chuck Berry’s “My Ding-a-Ling” and the last season of M*A*S*H. But since I was working on a story about a cross-the-country drive, I thought I’d check it out and, also, interesting to me, he wrote it right around when I was born—and he was about the age I am now. And halfway in between, I did my driving around the country—so how is it going to hold up? I can’t speak for 2024, but my younger adventure relates. Depressingly, one thing that’s way too close to our present day is his observations of and indictments of racism. But it isn’t all grim. I was immediately charmed by his overall attitude and tone, relating to that really quite a lot—and of course he’s a good writer, and it’s funny. And very insightful, just for the feeling you get on a long trip—especially if you make a point of talking to people. For a while I thought it was going to be one episode after another of loosening people up by “sweetening” their coffee with a little applejack or bourbon. Hopefully he didn’t start anyone on a path to destruction. Overall, I got some good insight for my book. Also, I see there have been criticisms about the book due to how much of the story he exaggerated and manipulated or just plain made up. But for me, I don’t care—what’s on the page is what’s important to me—not so called “reality.” After all, all “fiction” is based on reality and all “memoir” is so much enhanced and made up—I think the categories are just a little silly.

10.29.24

Henry Reed’s Journey

Henry Reed’s Journey by Keith Robertson (1963) Illustrated by Robert McCloskey. The second Henry Reed book, which I liked (as a kid) almost as much as Henry Reed Inc. It’s the next summer, and this time Henry flies to the West Coast to meet Midge and the Glass family and drive across the country with them—all related, to us, as in the first book, in the form of Henry’s detailed journal. It’s got similar character dynamics as the first book, with Midge’s parents replacing Henry’s aunt and uncle. Midge is the smart, funny one, while Henry is well-educated but oddly clueless in some ways—weirdly lacking a sense of humor—never really getting Midge’s dad’s ironic sense of humor. There are some running gags, like Henry’s obsession with, and failure to procure, fireworks. And everyone but Mr. Glass (who protests and complains) continuously acquiring more and more souvenirs along the way—including a bird! Henry and Midge really do have some pretty good adventures—a highlight is meeting an oddly eccentric friend, close to their age, who wears full cowboy gear without embarrassment. My favorite episode, when I first read it, and still, is a visit to the Brown Palace Hotel in Denver—so that I’ve always been fascinated with that place. Maybe I’ll visit it some day! The story is really weighted on the western part of the trip—it’s almost like Keith Robertson ran out of steam—or reached his maximum page count. I decided to re-read this book now because I’m working on a book about driving across the county—so I’m determined not to do the same thing—though I’m also writing a lot about the West—so I’ll be determined to keep it up—even if it gets really long! My copy of this book is an ex-library copy, beat to hell, stained, read by hundreds, thousands—but it’ll last forever. Look for an older, hardback edition—and make sure it has the illustrations by Robert McCloskey, which are excellent—quite amazing—and I maintain, integral to story, and in defining the characters.

10.22.24

Something to Do with Paying Attention

Something to Do with Paying Attention by David Foster Wallace (2011) Published in 2021, this was originally published in 2011 as part of The Pale King, which was DFW’s unfinished novel, published after his death. It’s a long chapter, or subsection, I think they’re called—it’s §22, actually (I had to work to figure out how to make that symbol). What’s interesting is, I had read part of The Pale King and put it aside precisely at the end of this section—not because I didn’t like it—but because I did like it—and I had made a note to go back to it. Meaning, I guess, this does work as a stand-alone book. It’s about a guy who ends up working at the IRS (which is what The Pale King is about—an exciting subject for me!) —or, I guess, his background, in Chicago, and convoluted path to the IRS. It’s like a long monologue—it feels like a taped interview with this guy—just going on and on, in detail—and he can really talk. I find the whole book mundane, but in a way that I really like, and also poetic, in a very natural sense. I first picked this book up at the library, not knowing its origins until I got home—and it was worth re(reading). I really like that this publisher did this—it’s McNally Editions—connected to that McNally Jackson bookstore I used to go to in New York. The book as an object is enticing, an odd one, with a photo of a chair on the dust jacket. (I’ve seen another edition, too, not as interesting looking.) I suppose if you pick up this book and don’t like it, you’ll probably then skip The Pale King, but if you like it as much as I do, you’ll probably not be able to resist checking out The Pale King—even knowing it’s “unfinished,” and certainly not the same book it would have been had DFW not died. But, you know—no point in dwelling on that.

10.1.24

Deliver Me from Nowhere

Deliver Me from Nowhere by Warren Zanes (2023) The subtle of this book is: “The Making of Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska.” Before talking incessantly about myself (which is the way these “book reports” seem to go) I wanted to say that this is a great book that might appeal to beyond Bruce Springsteen fans. Of course, Springsteen fans are a large swath, and that group might be into this book the most, but others who it might appeal to are people interested in the creative process, people into songwriting, music making (and recording, in particular), and people interested in American culture from this period. Also, people who like stories of someone going against the grain—doing something odd, passionate, and surprising. And there’s also a mental health element—part of the saga most interesting to me. As a huge star (not me, Springsteen—particularly where and when I grew up), I kind of dismissed him—not my thing—after only his third (huge, Born to Run) record—but then came around, a few years later—after seeing him live—which turned me into a huge fan. At the same time, though, I was moving against all that was mainstream, and I remember well when the Nebraska record came out, and how a few friends and I were fascinated by it—and then even more so when we found out how it came about. This book is a great reminder of that, and if you don’t know the story, it’s here in depth. One of the more inspiring sagas involving a bigger than life star, as far as I’m concerned (because the bigger than life part doesn’t generally interest me—but the work does). Also, a good reason to go back and re-experience the record. And one more thing, the book made me aware of Springsteen’s autobiography, which I might now read—it sounds intriguing.

9.24.24

Riddler

Riddler by Henry A. Bamman and Robert J. Whitehead (1967) This is the 2nd book in the “Checkered Flag Series”—which are from Field Educational Publications, schoolbooks for young readers—I’m not sure of the age—I probably thought I was too old for them when I first read them, but now I’m 64, still reading them—so does it really matter? The one thing you’re not old enough to do is drive, when you might read these in school—but anyway, they stuck with me. Since I’m writing something about a road rally, I was trying to find some old books for inspiration—and I read this one while on vacation at my brother’s house—it’s specifically about a rally where there are riddles that reveal the next checkpoint, and then the teams are to get there in an indicated time—not too slow, but also not too fast. Of course, there’s some element of mystery and wrongdoing going on, involving one of the contestants, for increased drama. Good car stuff—I think each of the books focuses on different cars. I used to love cars. When I was a little kid, I wanted nothing as much as (after I became resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to get a horse) a Stutz Bearcat, for some reason, and one book of the series is called Bearcat. The other nice thing about these books are their distinctive checkered flag covers, and the excellent, stylized, somewhat impressionistic illustrations by James Andrews. Which is maybe one of the reasons my brother collected them. It really is worth owning the books for the illustrations alone.

9.17.24

Silent Partner

Silent Partner by Jinny McDonnell (1972) This is a “Kim Aldrich Mystery” (Number 2 in the series) from Whitman Publishing—it’s got a great cover (by Arnie Kohn)—the cover sold me! Kim in a pink sweater, in distress, looks like we’re in an old castle—a dripping candle in the foreground. 1972 worried me (I generally prefer much older kids’ books) but then I thought—there might be some interesting, specific, cultural references (there weren’t). Oh, the other thing, the book’s former owner, age 14, dated it (6/10/74)—which means she and I are almost exactly the same age. Also, I bought this last June—exactly 50 years since she owned it! I wish I liked it more—but I got through it. Kim (another main character with a dead mother) Aldrich has a knack for finding trouble, and this ski trip to the Alps is no exception. I’m afraid detailed description of skiing leaves me cold—but if you like that kind of adventure, and a bit more mature (Kim is about this far from gettin’ busy, in spite of being a Christian) romance and mystery (a few grisly deaths), you might also be able to endure every last detail of Kim’s anxiety-ridden internal monologue. I still liked her, but I guess I might have preferred her in a culinary adventure, or something. Her co-stars are pretty interesting—and in fact, there’s a basic, integral, twist—that I’d be doing a prospective reader an enormous disservice to reveal—so I’ll leave it at that—there’s a pretty intense and quite imaginative setup.

9.10.24

All Fours

All Fours by Miranda July (2024) For people up to a certain age the title will evoke sexual positions. People older than that, perhaps, will think of searching for that thing they just dropped that has entered another realm. It’s a good title—you remember it. There was a funny bit in The First Bad Man (2015) that cracked me up so much I still think of it occasionally and laugh (I’m not going to say what it is, since that never comes off, out of context). So I was hoping Miranda July would write another novel, and I hope she writes more. I was concerned though—I’d heard some things in advance (I try not to do that)—it was about menopause, and it was about dance—not my most relatable subjects. Actually, knowing nothing about menopause, I thought, maybe this is my other-than-Wikipedia chance. It’s something I’d have liked to talk to my mom about before she died—but add that to the list of missed opportunity regrets. I glanced through the book, another thing one should not do. That “Don’t judge a book by its cover!” expression really means don’t glance though, reading bits here and there, because a book—at least the linear narrative kind—is a collection of one word after another—in order! I guess I (sometimes) glance through to give myself the excuse to move onto something else. I’d also heard there was a lot of sex—something else I’m not comfortable with—though I’m certainly okay with it (after all, I endure Philp Roth)—and lately, really prefer sex to any type of violence. Also, I did see this graph of, I guess, hormone cycles of men and woman—and I thought: graphs? But this led to a subtle joke—MJ’s unique sense of humor—but I won’t give it or anything else away! I feel like it’s a weakness of mine to want to read about people like myself—with similar interests. But I guess it’s nice to expand a little—it helps when there’s something to hold on to—and in this case it’s humor as much as anything. Also, the character’s eccentricity. It’s first person, but the protagonist (a couple decades younger than me) is feeling old—so it’s also a kind of midlife crisis book—my favorite! The character is nameless, I guess—and her friends and husband don’t refer to her by name, and her non-binary child probably calls her mom. She’s an artist—but since it’s not entirely clear what her “projects” are, you might naturally defer to MJ’s projects—and her seemingly putting equal importance on all art forms, including, maybe, grocery shopping. Even though she comes off as a bit scattered, her past (offscreen) success seems justified when you witness her “new project” with herself at the center—seemingly chaotic—but frighteningly impressive in its intensity and improvisatory focus. I did actually think a little bit if Cassavetes—and in particular, Gena Rowlands’ characters (this was just before she died). Another thing that kept me going is—I just wanted to know—what was going to happen, like a mystery. Should be part of all books, maybe (it’s not), but whatever way you get there, you want the reader to care (and I did). I’m not going to reveal more, except to say, for me, I think this will be a memorable book—and some of those will be the best kind of laughs.

9.3.24

Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself

Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace by David Lipsky (2010) A memoir about meeting David Foster Wallace—on assignment for Rolling Stone, during the Infinite Jest book tour—so I guess that was 1996. It’s a transcript of taped (good old cassette tapes) conversations they had over a five day or so period, concluding the book tour—as well as David Lipsky’s commentary. This came out following DFW’s death in 2008—so there’s that sad edge to it—and Lipsky’s extended section of the time from this interview until the death is respectful and illuminating. I don’t remember when this book came out—I would have been immediately interested—but I do remember the movie that was based on it—The End of the Tour (2015)—which I went to. I had mixed feelings about the movie—l’ll see any movie about writers—and I thought the actors were really good—but ultimately, I felt weird about it. I mean it’s hard to say what DFW would have thought about it, but if it was me (I mean, imagining that I was him, and I was dead), I would have been mortified. And who knows if you can be mortified after death or not. So, I didn’t search out this book, then, but now that I came upon it, I wished I’d read it earlier. Or maybe this is the time. It’s been long enough since I read Infinite Jest that I wonder if I could read it again. It was some experience. Anyway, Lipsky’s approach to this book, as an odd kind of friend, and a writer, and a journalist—I felt it was sensitive and respectful, and loving. Also, very funny, and entertaining. Plus, there’s a lot about writing, of course, and that’s my favorite stuff. Also, a lot about fame. There’s also stuff about the cultural climate, and technology, and discussions kind of predicting the problems with the internet and social media. The DFW character he constructs—not totally reality, of course—but the taped conversations—you do get the feeling of both of them, intimately, as people you’d like to be friends with. There’s the tragic side of it, since Wallace is dead, but also a reminder that his writing is still with us—so that odd, interesting person is still with us. Form other stuff I read, articles, and fiction, DFW always reminded me of a few different friends---no one totally enough to be too uncomfortable—but an odd mix of maybe a dozen or more friends from the past. But enough so that—well, I never felt like I knew him, so much—but I do relate to him, quite a lot. And I continue to find him inspiring.

8.27.24

The Mystery at Lilac Inn

The Mystery at Lilac Inn by Carolyn Keene (1930) This is the fourth Nancy Drew volume (original text)—first time I read it—but it’s the biggest bummer of a ND I’ve read yet—even though it seemed promising (about a jewel theft) and centered on a restaurant (Lilac Inn). It starts with Nancy stopping at this roadside restaurant for luncheon. With Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books, there are three things I really read them for: food, weather (usually some kind of storm), and nautical mishaps. This book has all of those, but the mystery isn’t very clever or compelling. There’s no point in giving it away, so I won’t go into details. I mean, it is a little baffling, for a while, but the solution is uninspiring. I guess I also read them for the mystery. Oh, and another reason I read these old versions, before rewrites, is that they sometimes have odd elements and weird humor. The oddball details in this one, however, involve Nancy’s observations of women who she’s interviewing to fill in for housekeeper, Hannah, while she’s out of town. Part of Nancy’s negative reaction to the applicants is based on their race and nationality, and the way it’s handled in the writing is in itself racist. It’s bad enough that no one was going to fill Hannah’s shoes, anyway. And why can’t Carson just clean up after himself? It’s not like he needs to take care of Nancy. Anyway, I couldn’t help, while reading this book, to consider what I’d do if I had children. I wouldn’t want them reading this book, I guess (even though, in general, I’d rather they read the original versions). I suppose if I had kids, I might steer them toward more contemporary books—the ones that are more inclusive of a variety of people. But then, once they got old enough, I suppose we could discuss what’s troubling about some of the older books—so they could take them for what they are, while not being all right with the problems. But at what age do kids have that level of sophistication? I guess that’s part of raising kids, figuring that stuff out. Until then, I guess I’m considering this an adult oriented book, because I’m not throwing this or any other book away.

8.22.24

Doppelganger: A Trip Into the Mirror World

Doppelganger: A Trip Into the Mirror World by Naomi Klein (2023) A book heavy with dire real-world subjects and complex ideas (complex, but not hard to understand, at least on some level)—it starts out with the humorous “crisis” of author Naomi Klein’s consternation with being often (over the years) confused with author Naomi Wolf. Partly due to the similarities of their names, but also because of the common ground of their interests and politics—at least at one time. A confusion that is maddening for Klein, now, since Wolf’s seeming reversal of beliefs and most recent fame as a conspiracy theorist and anti-vax spokesperson. Naomi Klein expands on the concept of doppelganger, in myths, movies, and literature, and extends it through her concerns touched on this book—from conspiracy theories, the pandemic, politics, cancel culture, capitalism, social media, autism, religion, antisemitism, Zionism, fascism, history and human conflict, and the climate crisis. I’m probably forgetting something… there’s a lot here! If it sounds hard to take on, well, she helps a lot by clearly covering one thing at a time, and her approach is personable and positive—with a lot of focus on herself, her stake in everything, including her own shortcomings. She comes off like the friend you’d like to have, and in that way allows you at least the possibility of hope. I learned a lot, that’s for sure, and it got me thinking in other directions. I feel like I could go through the book again. I will admit to listening to an audiobook version, read by, weirdly, Naomi Wolf! That’s a joke. It’s read, very well, by the author. I wanted to get to it, this book—and through it—sooner than my slow, slow reading would allow. I feel like audiobooks are never as thorough a delivery system as reading is, but I can always listen to a book read twice, in half the time. I can imagine listening to this again (and/or reading it)—for her personable, somewhat odd—sometimes poetic, sometimes eccentric—take on all of it—but really deep and sane insights. A lot to learn and relearn. Some comfort. Sanity through clarity, at least a bit of clarity, and increased understanding. It could be a companion through rough times—rough times, now, and rougher times ahead.

8.15.24

Norwood

Norwood by Charles Portis (1966) I read this one because the two books I read by Charles Portis last year have partially, possibly, inspired me to write a “road” story, and when I was looking up other “road novels” for inspiration I came upon this, his first book. The danger is that you might emulate, too much, someone you’re inspired by, but then… there are more dangerous things in life. This is a relatively short book about a brief, transitional episode in the life of Norwood Pratt, an ex-Marine who has a less-than-intense ambition to be a country and western singer. Everything he does is a bit half-assed and off-kilter; he makes some bad choices and doesn’t necessarily follow things up, but he’s still the hero of this book because you’re along with him. If you choose to keep reading (and for me, the reading was compelling, effortless, and fun), you’re implicated, even when you know better. There’s an ill-advised trip to New York, and then back to “Ralph, Texas” (near Texarkana), and some great characters along the way, including Grady Fring the Kredit King and Edmund B. Ratner, the world’s smallest perfect man. There was a movie made based on this book, which you can watch on YouTube, but I’d recommend the book over the movie because what’s special about the book is the subtleties of language, the balance of smart and stupid, honorable and reprehensible—rather than the plot. The movie (which is both too close and too different from the book) has some charms, in its own way, but I didn’t even watch it all because I’d rather re-read the book—because its sense of effortlessness is inspiring to me, as writing.

8.1.24

Red Harvest

Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett (1929) This is a crazy book—tremendously influential on other books and movies. Miller’s Crossing is the one that really comes to mind, though I think they borrowed even more from Hammett’s The Glass Key—which I still haven’t read but will soon. I saw a notice that someone is working on a film version of this book—so I’m looking forward to that and hope it’s good. I had read Continental Op stories, years ago, but no Dashiell Hammett since then, for some reason. The first-person main character here is the Continental Op (who is never named, I don’t think, otherwise)—and he is not a good person, but he’s smart, effective, pretty fearless, and funny—dry sense of humor. Kind of despicable and admirable at the same time—at least you relate to him, even if you don’t always approve. His job here is taking on a wee bit of corruption in a town called Personville (affectionally known as “Poisonville”)—ha! He lies, manipulates, is ruthless and coldblooded—but he’s up against people worse than he is. A great cast of characters—the money-grubbing Dinah Brand is the best—I actually got to like and care about her. Dan Rolff the “lunger,” “Whisper,” Lew Yard, MacSwain, and Charles Procter Dawn—ha, that guy! I feel like I’m talking about colorful nuts at a drunken party. Most vivid of all was Noonan, the police chief, just the sleaziest. My favorite is the Op, himself—because you kind of hate him as much as admire him. My reaction is like Eddie Dane’s in Miller’s Crossing (sorry to come back to that again)—“Up is down, black is white.” It’s an easy book to read, and worth a re-read, or several. Lots of great dialogue and slang of the time, yet the story feels totally contemporary.

7.11.24

There’s Always This Year

There’s Always This Year by Hanif Abdurraqib (2024) Book is subtitled: On Basketball and Ascension. A great book in a lot of ways—first of all, inspiring, to me, from a writer/writing perspective, as what is possible to do with the written word. As with the best writing it feels like direct communication from brain to brain. (Or heart to heart, or hand to hand.) It’s particularly exciting to me because it’s boundary-less—memoir, and essay, and poetry—you could just call it a book if you wanted—can we do without the categories? It’s personal, very specific, and revealing, but also there’s something universal about it. A meditation on basketball (with LeBron James as the center) is the framework, and that’s seen through Hanif Abdurraqib’s relationship with the game as a player, a fan, and Ohioan. But ultimately, it’s about the author’s growing up, his love for his community, but also hardships and tragedy, and his grief and anger from violence. Specifically, police killing Black people in his community, and the country, and the ongoing racism in U.S. cities, including, his home, Columbus. Along with the tragedy and anger, this book deals with, there is also a joyous and even spiritual outlook that feels necessary for survival. For the reader, it’s all equally as powerful. For me, a specific reader, there is the humor and oddness that I relate to, as well. I had never heard of Hanif Abdurraqib, though he’s got a half dozen or so previous books. I heard him on a podcast (Otherppl)—got my interest—first of all in ways I do relate and don’t relate. I used to be a huge basketball fan—but grew away from it. (Probably more to do with TV than basketball.) And I’m from Ohio (I’ve lived in both Columbus and Cleveland) but moved away, so I’m interested to hear about a writer who stayed/is back in his hometown. And other things got to me, as the book went along, like him talking about having dreams about his mother, who is deceased—and that was right after I’d been having dreams about my mom (died in 2008), which were freaking me out. There is lot to this book, and I mean a lot—and I’d like to recommend it to everyone I know (even those who don’t know a basketball from a pumpkin). Even those who don’t care about the formally inventive writing that is this book—though I think anyone would appreciate the musicality of his writing. But first of all, he’s got a voice that you care about, and want to listen to.

6.30.24