I, Iago by Nicole Galland

Shakespeare’s Othello is one of his four great tragedies along with Macbeth, Hamlet, and King Lear. I especially enjoy teaching Othello, which I alternate with Lear. When I heard about Galland’s novel, I, Iago, which is part prequel and all retelling of the story from Iago’s point of view, I eagerly awaited its rise to the top of my TBR pile. This recently published novel is great fun – especially for those familiar with the play.

I won’t go into any of the details of the plot – if the play is not familiar territory, this novel would be a great introduction. But the real fun is in noticing lines and characters from the play as they pop up almost from page one. So, I would advise reading the play first.

Othello has some of the great lines from the Bard: “green-eyed monster,” “the beast with two backs,” and, of course, Iago’s final line in the play, “Ask me nothing, … What you know, you know. From this time forth I will not speak another word” (368). Some of these lines Galland alters slightly, but the essence is always there.

Galland recounts Iago’s early days from his childhood pranks with his boyhood friend, Rodrigo to his relationship with his father, and the origin of the epithet, “Honest Iago.”

Even though I knew exactly how the plot would spin out, the last hundred pages or so were as thrilling as the downhill side of the highest roller coaster in the land.

Incidentally, I think the 1995 Kenneth Branagh, Lawrence Fishburne, and Irène Jacob Othello is a most interesting and accessible version of the play. 5 stars

--Chiron, 6/13/12

Lucky You by Carl Hiaasen

Carl Hiaasen has a distinguished career as a newspaper reporter in Miami, Florida. Like Pete Dexter – a former columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News -- he turned his hand to novels. I have read about six of Hiaasen’s works and thoroughly enjoyed them all. His stories are gritty and down to earth, and have that special something which sounds a lot like newspaper writing. This 1997 novel, Hiaasen’s 7th, is no exception.

Tom Krome has been relegated to covering mall openings, beauty pageants, and, in this case, the story of a woman who won $14 million in the Florida Lottery. Hiaasen writes, “The downsizing trend that swept newspapers in the early nineties was aimed at sustaining the bloated profit margins in which the newspaper industry had wallowed for most of the century. A new soulless breed of cooperate managers, unburdened by a passion for serious journalism, found an easy way to reduce the cost of publishing a daily newspaper. The first casualty was depth. … Cutting the amount of space devoted to news instantly justified cutting the staff” (21). Investigative teams were one of the first cuts these business types made.

Krome was just “peaking in his career as an investigative reporter” (21). He applied for a job as a “feature writer” for The Register. He was offered a job as a divorce columnist, which he declined. A week later, the managing editor offered him a job as a feature writer, which Krome accepted, since he was trying to save for a move to Alaska.

Meanwhile, JoLayne Lucks won half of a $28 million dollar lottery prize. The other half was won by a white supremacist in Miami, who was furious he had to share the prize with what he was sure was a member of one of Florida’s two major minority groups. His plan was to start a militia to protect the US from a NATO and UN led invasion of the US to eliminate all the white people from America. The lunatic conspiracy theories which came out of Bode Gazzer’s twisted mind were just that – sheer lunacy. His partner in this insanity was Chub, a trigger-happy racist, who occasionally expressed some skepticism about Bode’s theories but liked the idea of being part of a militia.

Bode and Chub decide to steal JoLayne’s ticket. They find her shortly before Tom Krome does, and the two set out to track the thieves and recover her ticket. This is the main plot, but a humorous sub-plot involves Lucks’ hometown of Grange, Florida and some crazy con-artists running a religious miracle racket. All this is revealed in about the first 20 pages, so I am not giving much away.

Lucky You is exciting and takes many unexpected twists and turns. I am not really a fan of mysteries and suspense stories, but the newspaper angle intrigues me, so I am working my way through Hiaasen’s work. This novel, like the others I have read, are great stories, with several interesting characters ranging from serious to funny to the bizarre. 5 stars

--Chiron, 6/10/12

The Tiger’s Wife by Téa Obreht

Last month I reviewed the Best Short Stories of 2011 edited by Richard Russo. One of the stories I mentioned, “The Laugh” by Téa Obreht, reminded me I had a copy of her first novel, The Tiger’s Wife. It lay near the bottom of my TBR pile, but I decided to promote it. This turned out to be a most fortuitous decision.

Natalia is a young doctor, and she has a close relationship with her grandfather – also a well-known and respected doctor. The story is set in the Balkans at the end of the recent war. Natalia has set out to inoculate children in a remote orphanage with her best friend Zora. Interspersed among the narrative are flash backs to instances Natalia spent with her grandfather as a child. As the story opens, she learns her grandfather has died at a remote clinic, to the horror and amazement of his family, none of whom knew he was sick – except Natalia.

I could not help sensing touches of Salman Rushdie or Nobel Prize winner, Orhan Pamuk in this novel. Like these two world-renowned authors, Obreht’s prose mesmerizes. She describes one late-night adventure as a child with her grandfather:

“We were nearing the end of our street where it opened out onto the Boulevard, and I assumed the silence of our walk would be shattered by the bustle along the tramway. But when we got there, nothing, not even a single passing car. All the way from one end of the Boulevard to the other, every window was dark, and a hazy yellow moon was climbing along the curve of the old basilica on the hill. As it rose, it seemed to be gathering the silence up around it like a net. Not a sound: no police sirens, no rats in the dumpsters that lined the street. Not even my grandfather’s shoes as he stopped, looked up and down the street, and then turned left to follow the Boulevard east across the Square of the Kojanik.

“’It’s not far now,’ he said, and I caught up with him long enough to see the side of his face. He was smiling.

“’Not far to where?’ I said, out of breath, angry. ‘Where are you taking me?’ I drew myself up and stopped. ‘I’m not going any further until you tell me what the hell this is.’

“He turned to look at me, indignant. ‘Lower your voice, you fool, before you set something off,’ he hissed. ‘Can’t you feel it?’ Suddenly his arms went over his head in a wide arc. ‘Isn’t it lovely? No one in the world awake but us.’ And off he went again. I stood still for a few moments, watching him go, a tall, thin, noiseless shadow. Then the realization of it rushed over me: he didn’t need me with him, he wanted me there” (52-53).

Natalia and her grandfather spent many hours together doing simple things. Visiting the zoo became an almost daily excursion. While there, the two would sit opposite the tiger’s cage, and he would read to her from Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book. These visits, the book, and other stories run like threads in a skillfully woven tapestry. It explains her grandfather and it prepares her for her own life.

Obreht weaves a tale of science and superstition experienced by her grandfather and relayed in stories to Natalia. Then Natalia becomes faced with similar obstacles in her practice. She comes to a realization about her grandfather and her own life. A must read for anyone interested in literary fiction. 5 stars

--Chiron, 6/3/12/

Don't Sleep, There Are Snakes by Daniel L. Everett

Everett’s Don’t Sleep, There’s Snakes was the May read for my book club. From the description offered by the member, it seemed as if it might be an interesting anthropological look at an isolated group of indigenous peoples in the Amazon. The Pirahã (pronounced “pee-da-HAN”). When I got a copy of the book, the dust jacket revealed Everett went to the Amazon as a missionary.

Since I am adamantly opposed to missionary work – I admire the prime directive of the Federation of Planets: non interference in the culture of indigenous people – I almost stopped right there. But, this man lost his faith, so I was intrigued.

Daniel Everett moved his wife, Keren, and their children (seven, four, and one!!!) to this remote jungle village with no electricity, no water, and no contact with the outside world. Shortly after his arrival, the Brazilian government banned missionaries from these tribes, so his sponsor, The Summer Institute of Linguistics, tried “to find a way around the governments prohibition” (14). Nice. So Daniel enrolls in a graduate school to study linguistics, and his project is to study the language of these people. He is re-admitted to the Amazon as a “scientist.”

The next problem involves linguistics. Linguistics is akin to “statistics” for English majors -- boring. But for the sake of a friend, I began to slog through the jungles of crazy spellings, crazy phonetics, and lots of missionary-speak.

Then, I did something I rarely do. I skipped to the end to see what later chapters had to offer, and I came upon Chapter 17: “Converting the Missionary.” Everett writes, “the challenge of the missionary [is] to convince a happy, satisfied people that they are lost and need Jesus as their personal savior” (266). He quotes his “evangelism professor,” who said, “You’ve got to get ‘em lost before you can get ‘em saved” (266). Disgusting. When I think of the millions of lives lost as a result of missionaries over the ages, the cultures destroyed, the languages, traditions, stories, obliterated, the acts of genocide committed in the name of religion and progress, my stomach turns over and over.

Fortunately, Everett comes to the conclusion that “the universal appeal of the spiritual message I was bringing was ill-founded” (269). Indeed. Everett’s wife was from a missionary family, and inexplicably, she found it impossible to stand by her husband after his enlightenment and took the children and went home.

The “primitive” Pirahã asked Everett if he had ever seen Jesus, and when he said no, the wondered how he could believe in such a person. The Pirahã live an immediate life, closely intertwined with their environment and the daily struggle to find food. These people have a clear “acceptance for things the way they are, by and large. No fear of death” (271). Who is the most rational in this story?.

Everett closes this chapter with some startling admissions: “I have given up what I could not keep, my faith, to gain what I cannot lose, freedom from what Thomas Jefferson called ‘tyranny of the mind’ – following outside authorities rather than one’s own reason” (272) Hallelujah! Later, on the same page, “William James reminded us, we shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously. We are no more nor less than evolved primates” (272)..

The nuns would always tell us about the “Eleventh Commandment” – MYOB – Mind Your Own Business. At the book club, I raised the question, “Why can’t we just leave these people alone? What is the purpose of studying them, proselytizing them, and destroying them in the process?” One member suggested, if we don’t study them some corporation, oil company, logging firm, or factory farmers will..

Have humans learned nothing from history? Especially the history of the last 135 years or so? The near extinction of native peoples stripped of their land, their culture, the source of food and shelter, driven to shameful living conditions on reservations – in many cases far from their ancestral homes? Why don’t we pay attention to the oft quoted line of George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Five stars for Chapter 17..

--Chiron, 5/31/12

Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang by Chelsea Handler

Spoiler alert! Chelsea Handler holds a high position in the realm of my guilty pleasure reading. If you like her show, you will love her books. I also cannot help hearing her voice on every page.

Her practical jokes are elaborate, involve many people – including film crews – and are relatively harmless, if you allow for the humiliation she seems to enthusiastically enjoy pouring over her friends, family, staff, and co-workers.

Two of the chapters towards the end, are a bit less than the rest of the book, but even they have their moments.

Again, rated NC-17, her humor is not for everyone, but I love it. Like I said: A guilty pleasure par excellance!” 4-1/2 stars

--Chiron, 5/21/12

The Twoweeks by Larry Duberstein

This peculiar novel comes from the overwhelmingly reliable Permanent Press. It is roughly divided into four parts. But first some background.

Cal and Winnie are married and have two kids. Call loves Winnie, Winnie loves Cal, and Cal is absolutely devoted to his children. Lara and Winnie are friends. Lara and Ian are married but have no children. Cal and Lara bump into each other, and Cal notices her beauty. He is smitten. Duberstein writes, [I only have an uncorrected proof, but as soon as I get a trade copy, I will post a quote.] (25). Cal and Lara decide to take two weeks together to work out of their system the mutual attraction that had been building. Lara tells Ian, but Call does not tell Winnie.

Numerous stories crossed my mind while reading The Twoweeks by Larry Duberstein. These stories involve people married or involved with the wrong partner. Someone new comes along, and suddenly chaos breaks out. Think The English Patient, Bridges of Madison County, Shakespeare in Love, and The End of the Affair by Graham Green.

Part one involves Lara reading a journal of The Twoweeks, but Cal interrupts her and insists the “backstory” is important and relevant. Part two reveals the journal, frequently interspersed with comments mainly from Cal explaining, revising, or adding details in the journal. Part three describes separately Lara and Cal’s reaction in the immediate aftermath of the two weeks. Part four has a narrator outside the novel. Here all is revealed.

Duberstein’s prose is down to earth and conversational – lots of dialogue between Cal and Lara, and between Cal and himself and Lara and herself. The reader delves deeply into the psychology of these two characters, and clearly reveals the trauma and heart ache associated with finding oneself in a marriage when someone “better” or “more suited” comes along.

Having been in such a relationship myself not too many years ago, I had a great deal of empathy for Cal and Lara, as well as a lot of sympathy for Ian and Winnie. The major complicating factor in this novel, is of course, the children.

The Twoweeks is Larry Duberstein’s eighth novel along with two collections of short stories. I see a future spent hunting for the rest of his works. 5 stars

--Chiron, 5/19/12

The Best American Short Stories 20120 edited by Richard Russo

One of my favorite annual publications is the Best American Series, edited by Heidi Pitlor. In addition to fiction, the series also includes the best comics, essays, mystery stories, non-required reading, science and nature, sports, and travel. Each volume has a different guest editor, and the 2010 editor was Richard Russo, one of my favorite authors.

In his magnificent introduction, Russo discusses the purpose of literature. He writes, “The writer’s real job is not to court the affection of readers but to force them to confront hard truths” (xv). Furthermore, the artist “desires to show people a good time” and “comes to us bearing a gift he hopes will please us.” The writer “starts out making the thing for himself, perhaps, but at some point …realizes he [or she] wants to share it, which is why [an author] spends long hours reshaping the thing, lovingly honing its details in the hopes it will please us, that it will be a gift worth the giving and the receiving” (xv).

He goes on to say that writers and readers understand “how wonderful it is to lose the “self” in a story so that … for a time, the reader’s life, troubles … none of it matters” (xv).

These twenty stories fulfill that mission splendidly. The finest magazines publishing fiction today are well represented: The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Tin House, The Paris Review, and Ploughshares among others.

Some well-known authors, but just as many gems by new and young writers have found their way into this prestigious collection. Charles Baxter, author of Feast of Love, Jennifer Egan, author of the critically acclaimed Visit from the Goon Squad, Jill McCorkle, who write, Going Away Shoes, and Téa Obrecht, who wrote The Tiger’s Wife. Most of the authors in the volume teach at some of the finest writing programs in America today.

The advantage of this series comes in the form of exposure to the reader of many new and established writers in a wide variety of styles.

As an example, my favorite story from the collection is “The Cousins,” by Charles Baxter. Baxter received the Award of Merit for the Short Story by the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 2007. In the story, Brantford is the ne’er-do-well younger cousin of Benjamin, or “Bunny” as Brantford calls him. Like all of Baxter’s work, the prose is sparkling and wonderfully phrased. Benjamin, the narrator, travels from party to party and from one relative’s house to another. He engages people in conversations which usually end badly. He approaches a “famous poet” but cannot ask him about his play. Benjamin pontificates about Yeats and Eliot, and the poet interrupts him with a vulgar insult as if from an “Old Testament style prophet” (49). This conflict between writer and reader hangs like a shadow over Benjamin.

The volume concludes with a handy list of U.S. and Canadian magazines publishing short stories. This annual series is a real treasure for anyone who loves the art of the short story. 5 stars

--Chiron, 5/19/12

Children's Literature

On Tuesday, May 8th, the world of publishing lost a shining star. Maurice Sendak died at the age of 83. On the following Wednesday, Terry Gross re-played excerpts from four interviews she had conducted over the last 20 years or so.

Sendak revealed he had drawn the characters in his most well-known book, Where the Wild Things Are, with characteristics of friends and family members. Over the years, I have read this book and had countless encounters with Max and the “wild things… with their terrible roars … terrible teeth … and terrible eyes … and terrible claws.”

Every child fears monsters of one kind or another, but Max tames the monsters with a magic trick and they “made him king of all wild things.” That led to “the wild rumpus.” Max gives up being “king of where the wild things are, But the wild things cried, ‘Oh please don’t go – we’ll eat you up – we love you so!’ And Max said, ‘No!’” I still can’t help chuckling over those lines.

Then, I began thinking of the many children’s books in my collection. I frequently search antique shops and used book stores to find copies of those books from long ago.

Some of the treasures I have unearthed are The True Book of Birds We Know by Margaret Friskey. This was the first book I borrowed with my new library card about 1955. Also from that time period is The Adventures of a Brownie by Dinah Marie Mulock, originally published in 1924; however, the dust jacket is exactly the one I remember. Mr. Popper’s Penguins by Richard and Florence Atwater dates from the 30s. My copy is from the 52nd printing, which attests to the staying power of classic children’s literature.

A series of non-fiction books introduced me to many topics in science. Published by Random House, the “All About” series has dozens and dozens of titles on all branches of science, including dinosaurs, mammals, archaeology, rockets, famous inventors, and the planets. Some of the illustrations in this wonderful series still come to mind.

But my collection does not stop in the 60s. My wife started her library career as a children’s librarian, so she brought many classic children’s books to our marriage. Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, Millions of Cats, and one of my favorites, The Owl and the Pussy Cat by Edward Lear. Recently, we began collecting books illustrated by John Muth. His The Three Questions, based on a short story by Leo Tolstoy, tells the tale of a young boy who has some questions about his life. I read this book to my literature classes.

I could go on and on with many more titles, but my point is that reading becomes a habit if instilled in children at an early age. Parents who read to their children lay a foundation for those children to become life-long readers. For all the wonderful children’s authors over the years – 5 stars

--Chiron, 5/19/12

Free Will by Sam Harris

I have admired the work of Sam Harris since his first book, The End of Faith, and his second, Letter to a Christian Nation. His last, The Moral Landscape, was a bit more difficult, but all three books shared one thing in common: they were all extremely thought-provoking. Free Will is no exception.

This slim volume examines the decisions we make and asks the question, “Are we really free to choose?" His conclusion is no.

I admit, I was more skeptical on this subject than any other he has addressed. However, after reading this book twice, I have come to the conclusion he is at least onto something. My full acceptance will require a complete overhaul of how and what and why I feel the way I do about decisions I routinely make. Thought-provoking indeed!

I have underlined many, many passages, but one that particularly sticks out is this: “One of the most refreshing ideas to come out of existentialism (perhaps the only one() is that we are free to interpret and reinterpret the meaning of our lives. You can consider your first marriage, which ended in divorce, to be a ‘failure,’ or you can view it as a circumstance that caused you to grow in ways that were crucial to your future happiness. Does this freedom of interpretation require free will? No. It simply suggests that different ways of thinking have different consequences. Some thoughts are depressing and disempowering; others inspire us. We can pursue any line of thought we want – but our choice is the product of prior events that we did not bring into being” (40).

Harris is careful to assert that the illusion of free will does not remove any responsibility for our actions. Rather the circumstances that led to a decision – whether they are internal, external, biological, or chemical – play a crucial role in determining the paths we choose.

When discussing “Moral Responsibility,” Harris writes, “Judgments of responsibility depend upon the overall complexion of one’s mind, not on the metaphysics of mental cause and effect” (49). He then describes five scenarios, all of which end with the same result. He peals apart the circumstances of each and ascribes explanations for the course of action chosen. All are not the result of free will, and this demonstrates his thesis, because we judge each of these five actions after considering surrounding circumstances.

He also spends some time describing the physiology of the brain and its role in the decision making process. It might require a second – or even a third reading – but the effort is more than worthwhile. Harris blogs at http://www.samharris.org/ 5 stars

--Chiron, 5/11/12

Revelations: Visions, Prophecy, and Politics in the Book of Revelation by Elaine Pagels

Elaine Pagels teaches religion at Princeton University, and she is best known for her studies ancient religious texts. I first heard of her during an interview on NPR’s Fresh Air. Her book, The Gnostic Gospels had just been published. Since then she has had books on the Gnostic Gospels of St. Thomas and Judas.

Her latest book, Revelations: Visions, Prophecy, and Politics in the Book of Revelation is every bit as interesting and readable for the non-biblical scholar as the others. She lists the curiosities of this final book of the New Testament, saying “The Book of Revelation speaks to something deep in human nature” (2). “Martin Luther wanted to throw [it] out of the canon, saying, ‘there is no Christ in it’ until he realized how he could use its powerful imagery against the Catholic Church, while Catholic apologists turned it back against him and other ‘protesting’ Christians” (3)

Pagels points out that the early church featured about 20 so-called books of “revelation.” These however, are quite different than the book John of Patmos wrote while in exile. While John focused on Judgment day and the end of the world, those others sought “the divine in [the world] now” (3).

Pagels categorizes this book as “wartime literature,” because John had witnessed the terrible death and destruction the Roman Empire wrought on Judea, including the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. She posits that “What John did … was create anti-Roman propaganda that drew its imagery from Israel’s prophetic traditions – above all the writings of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel” (16). John’s “visions came to him – perhaps induced by prayer and fasting” (16-17). She then goes on to quote extensively from those Old Testament Books to draw parallels with John’s work.

Furthermore, John’s “great mountain, burning with fire” (20), may have been influenced by an event that happened ten years before, “when Mt. Vesuvius … erupted with great explosions that shook the earth and filled the air with a deafening roar” (20). Many of the fearsome monsters in Revelation bear striking resemblance to 3,000 year-old texts by “Israel’s poets and storytellers … [who told] how Israel’s God, like [the Babylonian god] Marduk, fought against a many-headed dragon, a sea-monster whom they called by such names as Leviathan and Rahab” (24-25). Both these names appear in the Old Testament.

Ultimately, John’s Revelation used “cryptic images because open hostility to Rome could be dangerous” (30). Pagels cites other prophetic writers who “had written in coded language to hold out visions of hope (30), … when, for example Daniel challenged his fellow Jews to resist the tyranny of Antiochus IV, a successor of Alexander the Great who tried to force the Jews to assimilate into his empire” (30-31). John saw the Roman Empire as the personification of evil, and only Christ’s return could punish the Romans and reward those people who had stayed faithful.

Elaine Pagels’ Revelation is another fascinating piece of the puzzle which sheds much light on the formation of the early church. Her books are as irresistible as warm chocolate chip cookies.

--Chiron, 5/10/12

The Beginner's Goodbye by Anne Tyler

A treat is something wonderful which only comes once in a while. Special treats are spaced far apart and are especially welcome when they do appear. Baltimore-native Anne Tyler is a writer I have admired for a very long time. Her novels appear only once in a while with varying degrees of regularity. However, whenever a new novel does appear, I drop whatever I am reading for her.

The Beginner’s Goodbye tells the story of Aaron Woolcott, an editor at his family’s vanity publishing house, Woolcott Publishing. Aaron’s wife, Dorothy, has died in a tragic accident, and the novel begins with a visit from Dorothy. At first, Aaron is tentative, questioning his own sanity. Then, because he misses her so much, he looks forward to her appearances, and doesn’t wish to question her about her visits, fearing she would leave and never come back. Aaron was devoted to Dorothy, and he reflects, “one of the worst things about losing your wife, I found: your wife is the very person you want to discuss it all with” (54).

Aaron’s sister, Nandina, also works at Woolcott, but she is something of a tyrant in the office. She invites Aaron to stay with her while repairs are made to his house. He hires a contractor, gives Gil the keys, and says, fix my house, “Everything. I don’t know. Just take care of it. You decide” (76). Aaron cannot bring himself to go home to the scene of Dorothy’s death.

Tyler’s prose is soft, calm, and understated. She weaves a tale of the interesting, ordinary quality of middle class lives set mostly in her home town. On one occasion, late in the novel, Aaron walks down the street of his house, and sees Dorothy standing on the sidewalk. Tyler writes, “Harder to figure, though, was that she didn’t visit our own house – at least not the interior. Wouldn’t you suppose she’d be interested? The closest she’d come was that time on the sidewalk. But then, one Sunday morning, I caught sight of her in the back yard, beside where the oak tree had been. It was one of the few occasions she was already in place before I arrived. I glanced out our kitchen window and saw her standing there, looking down at the wood chips, with her hands jammed in the pockets of her doctor coat. I made it to her side in record time, even though I seem to have left my cane somewhere in the house. I said, slightly short of breath – ‘You see they removed all the evidence. Ground the stump to bits even.’ ‘Mmhmm,’ she said. I stopped. This wasn’t what I wanted to be talking about. During all the months when she had been absent, there were so many things I had saved up to tell her, so many bits of news about the house and the neighborhood and friends and work and family, but now they seemed inconsequential. Puny. Move far enough away from an even and it sort of levels out, so to speak – settles into the general landscape” (147-148). Aaron does “sort things out” – with Dorothy’s help -- and moves on with his life.

If you have never read Anne Tyler, Any number of her 18 novels would be a good place to start, but The Beginner’s Goodbye would be a wonderful introduction to this award-winning novelist. 5 stars (565)

--Chiron, 5/6/12

Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns

Back in the 80s, I served a stint in a national chain bookstore, now gobbled up by a larger chain. Bob the manager and I became good friends and frequently recommended books to each other. He urged me to read Olive Ann Burns’ Cold Sassy Tree, but I skimmed through the book and never started it. When a good friend in my book club picked it as the April read, I finally gave in and read it.

I should have listened to Bob all those years ago, because this is a really delightful story. It has humor, pathos, philosophy, kindness, meanness, charity, and downright stinginess. In short, this is a story of a typical Southern, small-town America in 1906.

Cold Sassy, Georgia -- 90 miles from Atlanta -- is a sleepy town filled with gossip, coexisting churches – Baptist and Methodist – and three communities of residents. The town people, led by Rucker Blakeslee, who owns a “brick store” and his family consisting of two daughters and their husbands. The older daughter, Mary Willis, is married to Hoyt Tweedy, and they have a son, Will, and a little “red-headed girl,” Mary Toy. The younger daughter is Loma, married to Campbell “Camp” Williams, and they have a son, Campbell, Jr.

The town has a mill, and the workers – referred to as lint heads – live in mill town. Many of the workers in the mill are children. Some of the mill children attend school until they are old enough to go to work. The townies look down upon the mill town residents.

The third community consists of the African-Americans led by Loomis, who does odd jobs for Rucker and his family. Queenie is a cook and housekeeper for Hoyt and Mary

Crusty old Rucker is a skinflint of the first order. He keeps his wife Mattie Lou in a house with no electricity, no running water, no phone, and a privy in the back yard. He is full of “cracker-barrel, common sense wisdom.” Rucker says, “When you don’t know which way to turn, son, try something. Don’t jest do nothin’” (315). Hoyt works at the store along with Campbell. Rucker says, “Camp was born tired and raised lazy” (22). Fourteen-year-old Will also works at the store, has chores around the house and barn, and does things for his Grandma. He rarely has a moments rest and has to beg for a day off to go fishing. Will is Rucker’s favorite.

Then Rucker hires the beautiful Miss Love Simpson as a milliner for his store. Love came down from Baltimore, and was immediately branded a “damnyankee,” and tongues began to cluck.

The first two-thirds of the story are slow paced with a good measure of country humor. Loma wants to join a group of traveling actors. Rucker says, “Loma, I ain’t a-go’n let you do it. Ain’t no tellin’ what kind of life you’d live with them kind-a folks.” She stomped and cried and carried on something awful. “I wish I was a boy so I could go off on my own!” “I wish you was a boy, too, but you ain’t,” Granpa retorted, “and you ain’t go’n be no actress, neither. So hesh up” (17). A curmudgeon he was, but he had a soft spot when a friend or a member of his family needed help.

The last third of Cold Sassy Tree takes a surprising and emotional turn. I was completely absorbed near the end, and the last sentence on page 391 brought a tear to my eye. 5 stars

--Chiron, 4/25/12

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Over the years, I have informally surveyed my students for the titles of books they read for fun. Lately, a frequently mentioned work is The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. In fact, so many students mentioned it, I decided to buy a copy. When the film version came out to rave reviews and record-breaking ticket sales, I decided it was time to find out what this adventure story had to offer. Collins has written an exciting and riveting tale of a dystopian America.

The back story is a bit vague. Some sort of revolt resulted in a horrific crushing of the populace. The country, known as “Panem,” was divided into 13 districts, and all but one submitted to the harsh rule of “The Capitol.” Most of the wealth, technology, food, energy, and health care was concentrated in this district. The district which refused to submit was obliterated. Each district also had is specialty. District 12, known as “The Seam” produced coal. Stealing coal resulted in a death penalty. The residents scrabbled for food, and hunting in the surrounding forest – patrolled by hovercraft – was strictly forbidden.

Katniss Everdeen lives with her mother and younger sister, Prim. Her mother is a skilled “healer” and has developed a following. Katniss’ father was killed in a coal mine explosion, and she helps feed the family with illegal hunting.

The Capitol runs the “Hunger Games” as entertainment. All aspects of this ultimate reality show are televised 24 hours a day as long as the game lasts. Each district holds a lottery to choose two “tributes” – one male and one female – to enter the arena and fight for survival. Only one of the 24 tributes selected can emerge the victor. As the story opens, the lottery for this year’s games has begun. Twelve-year-old Prim, in her first year of eligibility, has been selected. Katniss steps forward and volunteers to take her sister’s place.

Tributes are scrubbed, polished, and dressed in fantastic costumes for their TV introduction. An interview process allows them to demonstrate their skills, so an appropriate tool awaits them once they are released into the arena. Their appearance determines how many “sponsors” an individual tribute can garner. These sponsors donate money, which can then be used to deliver items needed by the tributes.

Collins has woven a taut and breathtaking story of survival, where cunning, treachery, brutality are the main keys to survival. Some of the tributes are much better fed, clothed, and equipped. In fact, contrary to rules, tributes from these districts are trained for the games. Few districts have the means to prepare its tributes, who are immediately swept from their homes with only the briefest of goodbyes and taken to the preparation center.

I sense several layers to this allegory, but I will leave each reader to determine what these thinly veiled clues reveal. This trilogy could rival the Harry Potter series in popularity. Since the film release, I have seen copies slipping in an out of backpacks and purses all over the place.

Unlike J.K. Rowling’s seven-volume story of the boy-wizard, which began in relative innocence, but slowly became violent, Hunger Games starts with a high level of intensity almost from page one. While it may be too intense for some pre-teens, those youngsters raised with fantasy video games, will most likely enjoy the story. My next step is to see the film version. 5 stars

--Chiron, 4/15/12

Zen Buddhism by D.T. Suzuki

I own a couple of dozen books about Buddhism. I enjoy reading about the four noble truths [Life means suffering; the origin of suffering is attachment; the cessation of suffering is attainable; and the path to the cessation of suffering], the teachings of Buddha and Zen Masters, and the many riddles used in instruction; however, I have not read anything by Suzuki. But when I read that this book by him was challenged at the Plymouth-Canton school system in Canton, Michigan in 1987, I decided to purchase it. The book-banners explained their decision by stating, "this book details the teachings of the religion of Buddhism in such a way that the reader could very likely embrace its teachings and choose this as his religion." I agree it is a thorough and well-written survey of the history and philosophy of Buddhism, but I completely disagree that this – or any book – could turn someone away from sincere and deeply held beliefs. If this book turned anyone any which way, it was because the reader had some doubts about those beliefs.

Zen Buddhism has not convinced me to embrace Buddhism as a life style. Still, many of the ideas are appealing. Introspection, respect for all sentient life, non-violence, and moderation – among other ideas – are things practitioners of any religion can easily embrace.

According to the author’s note, Suzuki, who lived from 1869 to 1966, was born and educated in Japan. He lectured extensively throughout the world and taught at Columbia University. He influenced many of the great thinkers of the 20th century, including C. G. Jung, Aldous Huxley, and the Trappist Monk, Thomas Merton.”

Suzuki begins with a discussion of the “sense of Zen,” and notes that “Hebraic and Greek traditions are profoundly dualistic in spirit. That is, they divide reality into two parts and set one part off against the other. The Hebrew tradition divides God and creature, the Law and erring members, spirit and flesh. The Greek, on the other hand, divides reality along intellectual lines,” … [making] “reason the highest and most valued function” (x). The bedrock of Buddhism, however, lay in the idea of “favoring intuition over reason” (x).

Suzuki then outlines a detailed history of Buddhism from its origins in India through China, and to Japan. He then focuses on several varieties of Zen whose adherents practice meditation in an attempt to develop “a new viewpoint on life and things generally” (98). According to Suzuki, “Zen is a matter of character and not of the intellect” (114). Furthermore, he writes, requires something inwardly propelling, energizing, and capable of doing work” (111). I see this “inward force” as faith.

Zen, on the other hand, “gives life to the intellect … by giving one a new point of view on things, a new way of approaching the truth and beauty of life and the world, by discovering a new source of energy in the inmost recesses of consciousness, and by bestowing on one a feeling of completeness and sufficiency” (132).

Suzuki then gives a guide to practical instruction in Zen, Zen and the unconscious, lessons in the koans, or riddles, used in instruction, the role of nature, a survey of existentialism, pragmatism, and Zen, and finally, notes on painting, poetry, and the tea ceremony.

I highly recommend this book to any reader who has ever had any curiosity about Zen Buddhism. I tried, but failed to find anything that cannot fit within the confines of most organized religions. The only drawbacks are the Chinese and Japanese names, which can be confusing. I am moving this book to my desert island shelf. 5 stars

--Chiron, 4/14/12

The War That Killed Achilles: The True Story of Homer's Iliad and the Trojan War by Caroline Alexander

For many years, I have loved and admired Homer’s Odyssey. I never spent much time soaking up The Iliad, because the war and violence depicted never held much interest for me. However, Alexander’s excellent commentary on The Iliad, has completely changed my view of this great epic.

A professor once said, “There is only one story, and that is The Odyssey. All other stories flow from it.” At first, I thought this implausible, but the more I read, the more parallels I began to notice. Joseph Campbell’s monumental work The Hero with a Thousand Faces enlightened me further – not only to The Odyssey, but to many other pieces of literature from all cultures and time periods.

My world lit class took up Iliad this semester, and I decided to read this book to add something to the discussion. Not only did I completely enjoy this well-written and thoroughly documented book, but I greatly increased my knowledge of The Iliad and The Odyssey. I now see these two foundations of western literature as mirror images of each other, as well as complimentary windows into the worlds of the Achaeans and Trojans.

The Odyssey focuses on one main male character with a host of interesting, alluring, and powerful women. I have always loved the stories of Kalypso, Circe, and Nausicaa – not to forget “the grey-eyed Goddess," Athena. Iliad, on the other hand centers on three women – Helen of Greece, Andromache, the wife of Hector, and Breseis, cousin of Hector. The rest of the women are all in the background, and Achilles and many warriors and kings provide important elements that move the plot.

In addition to Achilles strong anti-war stance, his anger at Agamemnon’s seizure of Breseis – a prize he won in the initial battle before the walls of Troy -- provides the dramatic conflict which threatens the invading army of Acheans.

Alexander also draws some interesting parallels with the 20th century. Achilles says,

“I for my part did not come here for the sake of the Trojan
spearmen to fight against them, since to me they have done nothing.
Never yet have they driven away my cattle or my horses,
never in Phthia where the soil is rich and men grow great did they
spoil my harvest, since indeed there is much that lies between us,
the shadowy mountains and the echoing sea” (20).

Alexander then quotes the words of Muhammad Ali when he refused to submit to the draft, claiming the Viet Cong had never done him any harm (21).

Throughout the book, Alexander highlights the absurdity of war, and even though the men fight for glory, Homer tells us there is no glory in dying. She brings home the real lessons of war. She describes what Achilles believes, “Life is more precious than glory; this is the unheroic truth disclosed by the greatest warrior at Troy… glory…is achieved through heroic poetry, in other words, through epic” (98).

This book belongs on my desert island shelf along with my copies of The Iliad and The Odyssey. 5 stars

--Chiron, 3/2/12

The Year of Wonder by Geraldine Brooks

Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague by Geraldine Brooks represents my third encounter with Brooks. March, a novel of the father figure in Alcott’s Little Women was the first, and the magnificent People of the Book both set high standards for historical fiction. Brooks has come up with another detailed and well-researched novel of the 1666 plague outbreak in England. She won Pulitzer Prizes for March and Years.

Based on the true story of Eyam, a small village in Derbyshire, Brooks has managed to convey the terror and frightening consequences of this catastrophic event. Anne Frith is a widow with two young children. Her husband died in a mine collapse. She tends her flock of sheep, raises the children, and works each morning as housekeeper and cook for the village pastor.

This novel not only instructs about events in 17th century England, it also provides some interesting insights on our society today.

One interesting parallel with modern society lies in the succumbing to superstitions. How often do we cross our fingers, knock on wood, or throw salt over our shoulder? These benign examples only begin to scratch the surface of our superstitious society. I am still amazed to enter an elevator and find no 13th floor – even in new buildings!

Two local women provide herbal remedies to the village, and the wife of the pastor, Elizabeth Mompellion uses them and recommends them to Anne. Brooks writes, “But of her herb knowledge I wanted none; it is one thing for a pastor’s wife to have such learning and another thing again for a widow woman of my sort. I knew how easy it is for [a] widow to be turned witch in the common mind, and the first cause generally is that she meddles somehow in medicinals.” (38)

The prose Brooks uses has such a wonderful pastoral tone, I sometimes forgot this was set in the middle of a terrible tragedy. “At last, I called to Jamie and we, too, set our feet on the path for home. All along the way, Jamie kept darting off like a swallow, swooping down to pluck the blowsy, late-blooming dog roses. When we neared the cottage, he bad, he made me wait by the door while he ran inside. ‘Close your eyes, Mummy,’ he cried excitedly. Obediently, I waited, my face buried in my hands, wondering what game he was devising. I heard him thump up the stairs, scrambling, as he did when he was in a hurry, on all fours like a puppy. A few moments passed, and then I heard the upstairs casement creak open. ‘All right Mummy. Now! Look up!’ I tilted my face and opened my eyes to find myself in a velvet rain of rose petals. The soft, sweet shower brushed my cheeks. I pulled off my cap and shook out my long hair and let petals land in its tangles. ‘This,’ I thought, smiling gratefully up at him, ‘this moment is my miracle.’” (71)

Anne Frith is a strong, intelligent, and empathetic woman, who overcomes incredible obstacles and survives. She is the centerpiece of this story, the best, and most likeable character, and I marvel at her reasoning skills. Brooks has wonderfully captured the voice of 1666 England, and easily reminds me of Samuel Pepys. Brooks has another novel, Caleb’s Crossing, which I can’t wait to begin. (5 stars)

--Chiron, 2/19/12

Breakfast with Buddha by Roland Merullo

In 1993, at age 45, I packed up my car and moved to Texas to attend grad school at Baylor University. Over the years, I have made about 40 round trips driving to and from Philadelphia. I always enjoyed those rides as a time to relax and unwind after a long semester teaching. I listened to music or a book on tapes or CDs, I stopped when and where I wanted for a rest, to eat, or perhaps an antique store, flea market, or historical site. Most of the time, I traveled alone, but I always found the trips refreshing.

Roland Merullo’s Breakfast with Buddha tells the story of Otto Ringling, 45, whose parents have died in an automobile accident in North Dakota. He loads up his car, says his goodbyes to his wife, Jeannie, and two children, and heads to his sister’s home in New Jersey. He expects to have Cecelia as a passenger for the trip, but she convinces Otto to take Volya Rinpoche, her spiritual adviser instead.

Otto, who works as a book editor for a small publishing house, is in no mood for nonsense. Initially, he resists interacting with Rinpoche, but gradually comes under the sage’s spell. Rinpoche is a Tibetan honorific, which means “precious one,” and it is usually applied to a respected teacher.

The story more than held my interest all the way to the end. Through attempts at Yoga, riddles, and stories, Otto eventually began to appreciate what Rinpoche had to offer. Otto declares himself a Christian without regular church attendance. He finds repellant Christians who believe what “ails us is more and stricter rules, more narrow-mindedness, more hatred, more sectioning off of the society, and it has always seemed to me that, if Christ’s message could be distilled down to one line, that line would have to do with kindness and inclusiveness, not rules and divisiveness.” (153) My sentiments precisely!

The last couple of chapters sum up what Otto has gained on the journey. The reluctant “hero” of the story really learns a lot about himself and his life. He always insists he has a good life, with a loving wife, two great kids, and a good job he loved, but Rinpoche pushes him to experience more. Merullo writes,

“Something was changing us with each breath, each second. The delusion of youth was that you believed you’d never reach middle age, and the delusion of middle age made you believe you could go on more or less indefinitely the way things were. Yes, the kids would grow up. Yes, you’d grow old and eventually pass away. But, really, there were so many pleasures to be had between now and then, so many tennis games, so many meals, so many weeks at the Cape and the ski lodge, so tremendously much to do before that other stage of life eventually set in.” (315)

Published by Algonquin Press of Chapel Hill, Merullo’s Breakfast with Buddha is a pleasant and thought-provoking read. I have collected novels from this publisher for almost 30 years, and this one convinces me, yet again, I have done the right thing. (5 stars)

--Chiron, 2/13/12

Make It Stay by Joan Frank

This fifth work of fiction by Joan Frank, who has won a slew of short story and fiction prizes, has a peculiar style, which took a few pages for me to fully appreciate.

Make it Stay reveals the history and inner workings of two couples. Neil, of Scottish ancestry, has passed the bar exam, taken out a loan, and opened a personal injury practice in Mira Flores, a small community in Northern California. The first person he meets is Mike Spender, something of a hippie, who runs a tropical fish store with the clever name of “Finny Business.” Mike frequently travels to the South Pacific to capture stock for his store. He takes Neil on one of these expeditions. Rae moves in with Neil, and while he cooks dinner for a group of their friends, he begins telling her the story of his adventures with Mike and his wife, Tilda.

Frank has told Make It Stay in a conversational style, which can only be described as casual, bordering on stream of consciousness. As the interesting and absorbing story spins out, I felt as if I sat – late at night -- on a comfortable sofa, with a close friend unburdening herself. Rae narrates the story of the two couples, and I can even see her looking away, absorbed in thought, trying to recall some detail pertinent to the tale of the complicated lives these four experienced.

As an example of this style early on in the story, Rae muses on a noisy screen door,

“Abrupt and bracing and welcome, the blueing air out the back door—door that screams like a raptor every time it’s opened. I don’t oil it, because as much as the sound claws at me, I think someday it might announce a burglar – though in truth, an intruder could easily enter any of the old back windows while both of us slept sweetly on. “We’ll replace these windows soon,” Neil mutters as we descend the wooden stairs; he is thinking the same thing, which happens more and more these days, and touches me. The skin of my bare arms tightens against the temperature; I should’ve grabbed a sweater. Sun low, piercing smell of late day, chimney smoke, crushed leaves, cooling earth; aromas of our own pending dinner; of neighbors’ dinners. Oh, Sundays! Unbearable time. Implacable stillness. The jay’s cry, its flash of blue wing. Tang and clarity that cut, when the nearness of the beloved is about the only thing that keeps you from doubling over.” (60)

Prose this poetic does not come along nearly enough for my tastes. So a mixture of wonderful prose, complicated relationships, memory, friendship, loyalty, a nifty, interesting style, an a somewhat unexpected conclusion all come together for a wonderful read that I found hard to put aside.

Due out soon, keep an eye out for this most excellent read. Kudos to Permanent Press, a small independent publisher, for supporting authors of this caliber. Make It Stay is Frank’s third novel and the second published by Permanent. 5 stars.

--Chiron, 2/5/12

How the Scots Invented the Modern World by Arthur Herman

This history has an intriguing title, and I could not wait to dive in. One of my primary teaching specialties is British Literature, so I know something about the early history of Scotland. I hoped to add to that knowledge.

Unfortunately, I was greatly disappointed. Not only was the prose deadly dull, but the humor was so subtle and so deeply buried, not even a smile broke the hours I struggled through the first 100 pages. If this had not been on the list of reads for my book club, I would have invoked the “Rule of 50” around about page ten.

Furthermore, while the premise seems to have some plausibility, many of the connections with the Scots are tenuous at best and extremely flimsy at worst. For example, in 1579, George Buchanan asserted the authority of government arises from the people. Herman thus lays claim to this “invention,” which Locke thoroughly examined and enabled the ideas to actually come to fruition (18-19). Technically speaking, this embryonic idea of democracy belongs to the Golden Age of Athenian culture, which developed the idea much more fully.

If I was more frugal, I might be upset that I wasted the money for this book. The chapter on the relationship of the clans and their connection to English Royalty – which embodied what I already knew about the early history of Scotland – was somewhat interesting. However, this is hardly enough to redeem this work. 1 star

--Chiron, 1/26/12

The Golden Droplet by Michel Tournier

One of the side effects of being a voracious reader involves hunting down earlier works by authors we love and admire. It took some effort to find this 1988 novel, but it proved to be a worthwhile endeavor.

Michel Tournier was born in Paris, and he studied philosophy at the Sorbonne and at the University of Tübingen. He wished to teach but failed to pass the French civil service exam. He joined Radio France as a journalist and translator and hosted The French Cultural Hour. In 1954 he began to write for Le Monde and Le Figaro. From 1958 to 1968, he was the chief editor of Plon, a French publishing house. In 1967 he published his first novel, which was awarded the Grand Prix du roman de l'Académie française. The Ogre, his second novel, was my introduction to Tournier. A friend, who also admires Tournier, told me The Golden Droplet surpassed Ogre for sheer power of the prose, comic touches, and a level of profound insight. The hunt was on. Thanks to on-line book searches, I found a copy.

The Golden Droplet tells the story of Idris, a Berber sheep herder who lives at the Tabelbala Oasis in Algeria. One day, a blond woman stops and asks to take his picture. She promises to send it to him when she gets home to Paris, France. The village only had one photo at the time – that of a hero of the French Army in World War II. Idris saw this photo as an opportunity to raise his status in the remote desert community.

Months passed, but no photo arrived. Faced with marrying a woman he did not love, Idris sets out on a picaresque journey to find the blond woman and retrieve his photo. Idris starts out walking, then after a series of hitchhiking adventures, finds himself in La Goutte D’or [The Golden Droplet], which is the name of the Arab slums inhabited by immigrants from North Africa.

Tournier has embedded subtle humor in his prose. For example, Tournier writes, “Idris remembered the glass-fronted cabinets of the museum in Beni-Abbès; they were shop windows in miniature, But … a shop window worthy of the name is sealed off by a partition. It forms a closed area, at the same time totally exposed to the gaze and inaccessible to the hands, impenetrable and yet without secrets, a world you may only touch with your eyes but which is nevertheless real, in a way illusory like the world of photography or television. A fragile, provocative safe, a shop window is just asking to be broken into” (144).

If the novel has any faults it involves quite a few Berber words without translation. A few could be worked out from context, Google provided the definition of a few more, but the majority eluded me. After about 50 pages of this, I began to mark the words only for later research. After another 50 pages, I stopped even that, as I slid into this story’s absorbing prose, and these mysterious words became ornaments I actually enjoyed.

The Golden Droplet is an interesting and profound story of sight, images, memory, and how an immigrant spreads his culture while adapting to his or her new home. 5 stars

--Chiron, 1/14/12