Just Under the Wire

I wrapped up January’s reading by finishing my third book of the month today on the train in to work. A smidge off the required pace, but it has been a crazy month. Book 3 was Todd Moye’s Let The People Decide: Black Freedom and White Resistance Movements in Sunflower County, Mississippi, 1945-1986.

This was a departure from my usual fare, and it may even be considered fancy book learnin’. I came to read this book by virtue of the fact that I know the author, Todd Moye. I’ve never known anyone personally who has written a book (other than my college professors, but they don’t count), so I felt compelled to pick this up. The first thing that struck me about this book was the last year in the title. 1986!? You gotta be kidding me. But then, this is Mississippi, where Todd reminds us that Trent Lott was taken to task for pining for the good old days of Jim Crow way back in 2002.

Next I became concerned about the author’s scholarship. References to Hortense Powdermaker and the town of Itta Bena certainly sound made up. But a quick run over to Google and his story checked out. Fun fact: Baby Face Nelson asks “Is this the road to Itta Bena?” when he picks up the boys in O Brother, Where Art Thou?.

It was a little strange at first. Knowing the author, I read most of the Prologue in his voice. That was pretty distracting, but I got over it.

The book is very focused on the freedom movements in a specific time and place, but I think it gives insight into how similar movements evolve elsewhere. There were several things that I hadn’t realized that were brought to my attention by this book. The first is that the Civil Rights Movement was not a single unified activity. Rather, there were many different movements that took place over time and were very specific to their locale and time. Secondly, I didn’t realize that some of these movements contained differences in opinion between classes in the black community itself. I also didn’t realize that white resistance to these movements was as organized, if not more so, than the freedom movements were. It seems rather obvious in retrospect, however.

The white resistance, when not violent and scary, was at times pretty absurd. For example, when it came time to integrate the Indianola library, all of the tables and chairs were removed so that black boys and white girls wouldn’t sit next to each other. Another example was the absurdity of the response to integrating schools. The first thought was to pass legislation eliminating public schools. That’ll show ‘em. What actually ended up happening was just as ridiculous. The state repealed it’s mandatory school attendance law, which resulted in plummeting school attendance for all students. That’s a fine way to plan for your state’s long term future and overturn that backwards image. Yipes.

I also learned that this is a good book to have read if you are driving with your wife for 8 hours from Georgia, through Alabama and Mississippi to Louisiana and back. You’d be surprised how often roadside reminders bring up interesting points from the book.

Speaking of history, you know who’s an idiot? This guy. Yes, who wants their history coming from quote unquote intellectuals. I prefer mine from a jackass, thank you. If anything, I expect we’ll see more titles like that on the best seller shelves under the current administration. Cheney’s wife famously (?) opposed proposed history standards because it bad-mouthed the USA. God help us all. Keep up the important work, Mr. Moye.

The Fortress of Blogitude

t was the best of times. It was the worst of times. (Hey–that’s catchy. Someone should use it in a book.) I had high hopes for The Fortress of Solitude, and Jonathan Lethem partially delivered on them. Just not entirely. And the parts where he didn’t deliver frustrated me so much that they almost overwhelmed the parts where he did.

The good: two completely original, memorable characters, Dylan Ebdus and Mingus Rude. A perhaps obvious but no less slightly profound point: Lethem tells us all we need to know about Dylan’s and Mingus’s parents by giving them these names. The wacky names some parents choose tells us much more about the parents than it does the kids.
The bad: a horrid comic superhero subplot. Enough with the frickin’ superheroes already. Michael Chabon already did it, and no one’s going to come along and improve on it. Get over it. (Or am I the only male in America who has never cared about comics books? Sheesh.)

Dylan’s character had to have been at least partially autobiographical. I have a hard time believing that Lethem could have come up with the insights he gives us here about growing up poor and white in a poor and black neighborhood in Brooklyn out of thin air.
I thought the first section of the book, about Dylan and Mingus in childhood, was borderline brilliant. I loved the first third, was bored by the second third, and ready to punch Lethem in the face by the third third.
I also thought that Lethem wrote really well about the act of creating art. (Dylan’s dad is a painter and Mingus’s is a musician.) If he tackles those themes in a future novel, I’ll pick it up with–ahem–great expectations.

The Punctuationer

Man, I’ve been freaking out. I’ve misplaced book three, and given the time constraints inherent in the 50 book challenge… well, it’s not good is what I’m saying. It was here yesterday; now I can’t find it.

By way of diversion, I am posting the picture below. I took this picture last year in the Florida Panhandle. Have a good look.

I challenge you to find a more disturbing use of quotation marks anywhere. Seriously. I am interpreting these quotation marks to mean that the guy she calls “daddy” is not really her father but some other older guy. I mean, he would have to be at least be 21 to own a liquor store. Right? Was putting her age on there such a good idea? Would my theoretical purchase of Mount Gay from this establishment fund some kind of sick, not so clandestine, underage love nest? And what would the money fund? Is it hush money for the local sheriff, courts, and her family, Michael Jackson-Style? Having a daughter (no quotation marks) myself, this kind of thing keeps me up nights.

Get Your Spelling On

From Dr. J’s Orthographic Posse:

The 35th Annual Atlanta Open Orthographic Meet will be at Manuel’s, 602 N. Highland, on Saturday, February 19th. Please tell your friends, as we did not manage to get it into the AJC Winter Guide. The Bee should start at 7PM, but as always, come early.

If you live in the ATL and think you know how to spell, you should make plans to attend this fine event. After being eliminated in the first round, you can join us is relaxing with some adult beverages and watching some jaw-dropping feats of spelling action. The Vegas Line for Dr. J finishing in the Top 3 — 1:5.

Greetings from the Blizzard of ‘05

So in the interest of adding a little diversity to your southern male book club…….You have a new “blogger” (that’s such a weird term) who will attempt to provide the following:
- the Northeasterner NYC center of the universe viewpoint
- the Jewish mom commentary
- and last but not least my ‘rasslin lingo and thoughts to this esteemed site………..

My first book of 2005, The Inner Circle, by T.C. Boyle. If you saw the movie, Kinsey, or have any interest in the topic of sex research – then this is the book for you. While it was a semi-enjoyable, interesting read – I only give it about a 7 out of 10, because I hated the 2 main characters – Milk and Prok. As the book progressed I disliked Prok (aka Kinsey) more and more until my disgust culminated in the last couple of chapters when he stuck a toothbrush into his urethra for his masochist pleasure (now I’ve got your interest………)

Save yourself about 6 hours of reading and see the movie.

January Madness

Who says that you need to wait until March to break out brackets and wager blindly? The Morning News is hosting the first annaul Tournament of Books. While not exactly a Smackdown-type event, the competition look pretty serious. Fill out your brackets by February 7th to get into our wagering pool. Bet early and bet often.

Another best of 2004 list has been posted at Metacritic’s new Book Review page. They used a similar methodology to my year-end matrix, only their’s is much more intensive, user-friendly, and all around kick-ass. They also came up with different results. Check it out.

I came across both of these sites through posts at Bookslut, the best book blog for your money. Check them out as well.

Screw Joe Campbell

OK, that was harsh. But, dammit, Joe and I needed a bit of a break from each other. He was making my head hurt and my chest feel like there was a balloon blowing up inside it (which is a simile, not a metaphor. Why is this relevant? Read on).

So with Myths to Live By safely set aside, and me on an existing 3 day tour through the 410 and the 317, I decided to pick up the curious incident of the dog in the night-time by esteemed Brit Mark Haddon. I had heard about this book back in the ‘03, when you Smart People who got As (the best grade) on your maths A-level probably read it. A fine choice indeed.

Picture a more lucid Benji solving (”detecting”) the mystery of a murdered dog with all of the neato little asides and digressions of Vonnegut’s best work and you will kinda get the drift. The thing I found the most interesting is, being inside the head of this clearly autistic kid (though the lable appears not once in the book), it is clear that the distinct functional differences between the workings of his mind and those of a “normal” person are really quite subtle. Plus, I got to revist quadratic equations and Mrs. Finnan’s turkey neck waddle.

While there ain’t much mystery, all in all, this is an excellent, fast and fascinating read.

Now, back to Joe . . . . . .

Swimming to Antarctica

Holy crap, I’m in. OK, off to work then.

Say kids, do you like swimming 25 miles without a wetsuit through blinding fog in 50-degree, six-foot seas at 2 a.m. with sharks bumping you and 1000-foot oil tankers nearly crushing you as you’re pulled 10 feet underwater by their propwash? If so, well… you’re a fucking idiot.

But a lovable, positive, dedicated fucking idiot, which is what makes Swimming to Antarctica such a compelling read. Lynne Cox is sort of the Rain Man of swimming; a bit dense (both figuratively and, at 36% body fat, literally), a tad naive, disturbingly obsessed, but at the same time, so driven and upbeat that you find yourself drawn into her seemingly dirt-dull life and cheering her on as her exploits gradually get more bizarre and extreme–the title is NOT a metaphor.

There are some weakness. Lynne is obviously athlete first, author second, and the writing occasionally plods on like a high-school term paper. And, coming from a woman in her mid-40s, Lynne’s saccharine, cow-eyed, unicorns-and-rainbows innocence is enough to make the reader pound his world-weary head on his desk: “Why, I just know this swim will start a new era of world peace!” Uh-huh.

But, that aside, the characters, locales and situations are so remarkable you can’t help but be engrossed, and there are dozens of terrific anecdotes, like when after a frigid Russian swim, Lynne requests a babushka, meaning scarf, only to have a Russian official return with the literal grandmother, who produced photos of her grandkids to prove her authenticity.

If nothing else, a great read and amazing example of what you can do if you set your mind to it.

Swimming to Antarctica

Holy crap, I’m in. OK, off to work then.

Say kids, do you like swimming 25 miles without a wetsuit through blinding fog in 50-degree, six-foot seas at 2 a.m. with sharks bumping you and 1000-foot oil tankers nearly crushing you as you’re pulled 10 feet underwater by their propwash? If so, well… you’re a fucking idiot.

But a lovable, positive, dedicated fucking idiot, which is what makes Swimming to Antarctica such a compelling read. Lynne Cox is sort of the Rain Man of swimming; a bit dense (both figuratively and, at 36% body fat, literally), a tad naive, disturbingly obsessed, but at the same time, so driven and upbeat that you find yourself drawn into her seemingly dirt-dull life and cheering her on as her exploits gradually get more bizarre and extreme–the title is NOT a metaphor.

There are some weakness. Lynne is obviously athlete first, author second, and the writing occasionally plods on like a high-school term paper. And, coming from a woman in her mid-40s, Lynne’s saccharine, cow-eyed, unicorns-and-rainbows innocence is enough to make the reader pound his world-weary head on his desk: “Why, I just know this swim will start a new era of world peace!” Uh-huh.

But, that aside, the characters, locales and situations are so remarkable you can’t help but be engrossed, and there are dozens of terrific anecdotes, like when after a frigid Russian swim, Lynne requests a babushka, meaning scarf, only to have a Russian official return with the literal grandmother, who produced photos of her grandkids to prove her authenticity.

If nothing else, a great read and amazing example of what you can do if you set your mind to it.

The Deuce

Book No. 2: Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver

I looked forward to reading this book months before it came out, based upon how much I enjoyed his earlier book Cryptonomicon. Cryptonomicon was recommended to me by my former brother-in-law. He later turned out to be a douchebag. My brother-in-law. Not Neal Stephenson. Anyway, it ended up taking me over a year to get around to reading Quiksilver, but I’m glad that I did. (Full disclosure: I started this book just after Thanksgiving, but I am counting it as a book read this year, since most of it was read in 2005. It’s over 900 pages – cut a guy some slack.)

What Stephenson does really well is create adventure for science geeks. Cryptonomicon was a a cyber-geek thriller. While Quicksilver, which is Vol. 1 of the Baroque Cycle (don’t call it a trilogy), drops some science on you old school style. Real old school. Prominent figures in the story include Isaac Newton and Gottfried Leibniz, who this book set up for a future dust up over the invention of calculus. We also learn that Descartes wasn’t all that. There is an early cameo by a young Benjamin Franklin. Courtly intrigues and political upheavals feature James II; Louis XIV; and William and Mary. Just what was the deal with the Puritans anyway? And the Huegenots, too, for that matter? Find out here. The action starts in Boston and bounces around 17 Century Europe. Somewhere in there currency valuation comes into play and the birth of stock exchanges occurs. A lot happens is what I’m saying. Due to the three volume format, the book ends without much being resolved. So I guess I am making a three book commitment. The second book in the series is The Confusion. I think I’ll read something else in between though.

Short Story

From McSweeney’s: “Rockin’ It, Frat-Party Style”, a nice tale that recalls those halcyon college days.

College life is sweet, Janet thought, falling into a deep and gentle sleep. So goddamn sweet that it is motherfuckin’ ridiculous.

You didn’t hear it from me, but my sources tell me that if you love spot on dialogue and real-life college situations like this, you need to check out I Am Charlotte Simmons.

Quit Yer Cryin’

OK, OK, OK. I’m here. I’m new to this blogging thing. I’m not even sure this internet thing has legs.

As for the books, I’ve a serious problem,. For my first number I have launched into a tome of psychobabble/pseudo religious comparative philosophy/mythology redux called The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell. Blame the wife. Nonetheless, here we are on day 17 of month 1 of year 1 of my intellectual rebirth and I’m slogging through 2 1/2 pages a night before the drooling begins in earnest. But I will finish. See you in July.

And how in the heck do I get MY picture into this thing for the world to see??

Dr J: 1 Down – Wilco: Learning to Die

DJ Cayenne, the response to your initiative has been truly inspiring.

Dr J is down with Dave Eggers, but just learned about that book.

Dr J’s first book of the year was a bit out of character: Wilco: Learning to Die. I’m not usually one to go for music journalism, but this one was worth it. I learned a lot about how an album is made and a lot–too much, maybe–about how it is marketed and sold. I picked this one up because Wilco has rocked my world on the three occassions I’ve seen them perform. I knew them only tangentially through the Uncle Tupelo cult (which I completely missed until way after the fact), and somewhat more through the No Depression movement. I just knew that the rocked; now I know a little bit more about why they rock.

Poetry Corner

Today’s poem comes from Henry Rollins. I first came across this poem in Spin Magazine in the mid-to-late 80’s. I believe that he was still with Black Flag at the time. I have no idea what made me think of it the other day, but the beauty of the internet is that you can Google “Henry Rollins Madonna Poem” and it up it comes. Love that. I find myself, years later, inexplicably never having seen Henry Rollins spoken word act. Go figure. Enjoy.

Madonna by Henry Rollins

Madonna -
she makes me want to drink
beer, she makes me want to drive fast
and go bowling, she makes me want to
shop at Sears, she makes me want to
kick vegetarians. When I hear her
sing, I know she’s singing to me, she
wants to get nasty with me. When I see
her face, when I see her eyes, when I
see her lips
talking to me
telling me to come on,
I get to feeling mean
I get to feeling like
I wanna do a whole lot of pushups
or go to a hardware store.
Then I have to cool down, I
gotta cool down.
It’s either gonna be:
a cold shower, or a Bruce Springsteen
record.

1 Down – 49 To Go

First off, thanks for all the posts. It is heartwarming to see the posse rally behind an idea. For real.

OK, here is my first book down for the New Year – How We Are Hungry: Stories by Dave Eggers. My man Dave is one of those guys that, apparently, people either love or hate. I’m firmly in the love camp. I love his books, I love the whole McSweeney’s deal, I’m backing Believer magazine – I’ve apparently just bought into the whole thing.

One of the things that I like about the McSweeney’s books in general is how they look. With every book they publish, you get the feeling that somebody actually cared a rat’s ass about how it went out into the world. Hungry, for example, has a built in strap for keeping the book together when you throw it into your brief case on the Number 97 Bus (formerly the No.10). It also has a built in ribbon for a bookmark. Why aren’t little ribbon-y things mandatory on all books? The book also features a fine black leatherette cover with embossed title, etc. These people just care about books as much as you do.

Anyway, this is a fine collection of short stories. The content backs up the slick package. I’d recommend them.

Post Away

OK then. We’re all set. Post away. Don’t be bashful.

For future reference, I am posting the results of my Best Books of 2004 distillation process. Follow the links to the long version and the short.

ground rules

We only have to read 50 books among us, right?
If that’s the case, we’d be better off inviting a lot more people.

Howdy & Welcome

A big shout out to ALL YALL. So the idea here is that the crew will have our 50 Book in 05 conversation out here in the blog-o-sphere. It seems like a better all around game plan than e-mailing round-robin style. Someone always gets dropped, someone doesn’t know who all the e-mails are from and they wish they would just go away, etc. So, let’s do it here. E-mail me if you have problems making this thing work. Otherwise, let’s get this show on the road. Also, if you know anybody who wants to join in on the fun, shoot me an e-mail, and we’ll get them on board. Holler.