Canada by Richard Ford

Quite a few years ago, I heard a lot of buzz about Richard Ford. His novel Independence Day won a Pulitzer and a Pen/Faulkner Award. I have always been a bit skeptical about the Pulitzer for fiction – too often I have not liked their selection. I felt some of their picks relied on gimmicks and attempts – it seemed to me – intended to shock and break out of the usual conventions of the novel. Now, I am not against a bit of iconoclasm when it comes to novels, but I sense – on occasion – that rule breakers break rules simply for the sake of making a ruckus. That, added to a fragment of a review, turned me away from Ford.

Then, I found myself in a class which required me to read Independence Day, and to my surprise, I enjoyed the novel enough to give it four stars. That was the Spring of 2008. Since then, I have read and watched interviews, read a short story or two, and read some reviews of ID. When I saw Ford had a new novel, I decided to dive in head first.

Canada Is a sprawling story of a dysfunctional family and how that dysfunction can affect the lives of its members in a variety of ways. The story is narrated by the son, Dell, about 50 years later. Dell has a twin sister, Berner. The mother, “Neeva,” short for Geneva, has been disowned by her Jewish parents for marrying Bev Parsons, a World War II bombardier, who now flits from job to job. He was demoted and honorably discharged from the Air Force for his participation involving some stolen beef for the officer’s club. He continued this sort of shadowy activity in civilian life. Finally, faced with death threats over a beef deal gone bad, he takes desperate measures to save his family.

Ford’s prose is most notable for his attention to details. These really bring the characters, the settings, the situations to life. Ford writes, “[Dad] had brought home two bottles of Schlitz beer, and they’d each drunk one – which they didn’t regularly do. It made them playful, which was how our mother’d become with us while he was gone. She’d put on a pair of white pedal pushers that revealed her thin ankles, some flat cotton shoes, and a pretty green blouse – clothes we didn’t know she owned. She looked like a young girl and smiled more than she normally would’ve and held her beer bottle by its neck and drank it in small swallows. She acted affectionately toward our father and laughed and shook her head at silly things he said. A couple of times she patted him on the shoulder and said he was a card. (As I said, she was a good listener.) Though he didn’t seem any different to me. He was a man in a good humor most of the time” (73).

As the dust jacket tells us, when Berner and Dell were 15, their parents robbed a bank, but the plan did not rise to the level of perfection Bev assured Neeva it would. She fought against the idea, but in the end, she agreed to accompany Bev to the bank and drive the getaway car. This catastrophic even tore the family apart. Berner ran away to California, and Dell was taken by Neeva’s friend, Mildred to Canada to live with her brother.

The second half of the novel deals with Dell’s adventures in Fort Royal, a near ghost town in Saskatchewan. Eventually, Dell learns some lessons from his parents, and begins to make sense of them, his life, and his relationship with his sister.

Ford leaves lots of clues about the future of this family, and these are interesting. Ford is now in that hallowed group of my favorite authors. 5 stars

--Chiron, 7/5/12

The Shallow End of Sleep by José Antonio Rodríguez

For anyone who aspires to write a good poem now and again, the discovery of a new poet can be a touch and go matter. How closely will the poet’s work appeal to my idea of a good poem? How closely will I relate to the images, the diction, and rhythm? Probably half of the poets I first encounter do not pass at least some of these tests. Every once in great while, however, I come across a book of poetry which rings all these bells for me. The Shallow End of Sleep by José Antonio Rodríguez resoundingly passes with flying colors.

The poems in Rodríguez’s collection have a warmth and an ability to call up memories of my own that somewhat match his. However, a shadow hangs over most of the endings -- a reminder of poverty and the hardship of adjusting to a new culture.

One of my favorites in the collection, “Playing Monopoly,” has many, many ties to my childhood.

“the green homes with perfect corners, the red hotels that looked like the textbook picture of George Washington’s home. The kids gloated guiltless when they won and the losers frowned for a second, their hands empty, until they decided to play again, like losing and winning were nothing” (38).

The poem then moves from the game of real estate to the realities of providing shelter for the family:

“I could tell you that I thought then of everybody putting in late hours, pooling money together to eke out the $400 payment on the house with a sink that drained into a bucket, with curtains for doors, with broken mattresses for beds, but it wasn’t like that – thoughts lined neatly like blocks.

“It was like when you finished your serving of beans and knew not to ask for seconds, that moment between taking the last bite and pulling the chair away from the table, the taste of that and the swallowing” (39).

The poems in this collection fill the page with powerful memories and even more powerful emotions. Rodríguez has won the 2009 Allen Ginsburg Poetry Award and a Pushcart Prize nomination. His work has appeared in Paterson Literary Review, cream city review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, among others. He currently works on a Ph.D in English and creative Writing. 5 stars.

--Chiron, 7/1/12

By Nightfall by Michael Cunningham

Michael Cunningham has written a series of novels about relationships – how they form, how they grow, and how they die. He manages this without being too dark, but rather he handles them in a thoughtful and sensitive manner. He is probably best known for The Hours, a multilayered reworking of the Virginia Woolf novel, Mrs. Dalloway. Specimen Days tells the story of three people in three different time periods – similar to the structure of The Hours – however, Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass provides a backdrop. By Nightfall parallels the story of Aschenbach and Tadzio from Thomas Mann’s erotic classic, Death in Venice.

Peter and Rebecca married in their early 20s, had a daughter Bea, and live in the Soho section of Lower Manhattan. Peter owns an art gallery struggling to reach the upper tier of galleries in a crowded NY market. Rebecca is a writer, and she publishes a literary magazine just barely surviving.

The families of the couple cast a shadow over their lives. Peter’s brother, Michael, died as a young man, and Rebecca’s younger brother is a drug addict. One day, Ethan “Mizzy,” shows up in Soho, and adds further complications to the plot.

Peter and Rebecca have a tender and loving relationship, which Peter frets over and second guesses at every turn. Cunningham does this in a structurally peculiar way. As Peter muses on his marriage, his life, and work, he frequently inserts parenthetical asides, as if a second narrator stood over his shoulder adding details or making corrections.

Here is an example from a passage about the home of Rebecca’s parents. She felt a slight embarrassment, but, as Cunningham writes: “Some – many – would have found this room disheartening, would have in fact been unnerved by the Taylor’s whole house and the Taylors’ entire lives. Peter was enchanted. Here he was among people too busy (with students, with patients, with books) to keep it all in perfect running order; people who’d rather have lawn parties and game nights than clean the tile grout with a tooth brush (although the Taylor’s grout could, undeniably, have used at least minor attention). Here was the living opposite of his own childhood, all those frozen nights, dinner finished by six thirty and at least another four hours before anyone could reasonably go to bed” (49).

I also enjoyed another aspect of this novel -- the generous sprinkling of literary references throughout the story. Joyce’s Ulysses, Proust, Jane Austen, Anna Karenina, Eliot’s Daniel Deronda, Henry James’ Portrait of a Lady, Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities, Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, Dante, Hamlet, Homer, Cheever, and many others. Fitting these selections into the fabric of the story would make an interesting research project.

But the most telling of all, occurred on a train trip to visit a client of Peter’s. Mizzy is searching for an occupation to save himself from drugs. He thinks “something in the Arts, perhaps a curator” would be a good choice. Peter sits opposite Mizzy and notices a copy of Thomas Mann’s Magic Mountain, which “sits open but unread on his lap” (169). They discuss Mann and Peter asks him about Death in Venice.

Cunningham’s By Nightfall is altogether a clever, absorbing psychological voyage into the lives and loves of Peter and Rebecca with an unusual twist on the last pages. If you have never read Cunningham, this novel is a good starting place. 5 stars

--Chiron, 6/30/12

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

For many, many years, I have loved and admired Homer’s Odyssey. Lately, I have experienced a growing admiration for his Iliad. I recently reviewed The War that Killed Achilles by Caroline Alexander. And now, a new entry onto my “desert island shelf” will take its place with these foundations of western literature. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller tells the story of the greatest warrior of the ancient world from the point of view of Patroclus, his companion.

Even though I knew exactly how the story would end, I reveled in every page of this enthralling story. Miller has a tinge of the voice of Homer, with a couple of epithets thrown in for good measure. Rosy-fingered dawn even gets a mention.

Patroclus accidentally killed a boy who bullied him relentlessly. Clysonomous was the son of a noble family, and the penalty for such a killing was death or exile. Patroclus lacked the physical and mental strengths required of the son of a king, and his father’s disdain appeared evident to everyone – even the young Patroclus. The verdict was exile.

Peleus, King of Phthia, and father of Achilles by the divine nymph, Thetis, routinely accepted such exiles for the treasure that came along with the unfortunate individual. Patroclus became a close friend and companion to Achilles, destined to become “Aristos Achaion. Best of the Greeks” (176), “the greatest warrior of his generation” (160).

When Achilles turns thirteen, he is sent to study with the centaur, Chiron, to learn the arts of war and medicine. Patroclus is left behind, but by this time, he has developed a deep and abiding relationship with Achilles. He wheedles Achilles location from Peleus, and Patroclus immediately runs after his friend. The bond with Achilles is mutual. He says, “I hoped you would come” (70).

Years pass and the boys grow closer. When Achilles is 16, Odysseus, King of Ithaca, the “man of twists and turns” comes to seek Achilles’ help in rescuing Helen of Greece, wife of Menelaus, King of Sparta. But Peleus knows of the prophecy and the flimsy bond drawing all these heroes together for the Trojan War. Achilles and his father were not present when Agamemnon and his brother Menelaus extracted a promise from the disappointed suitors to swear allegiance to Helen and her chosen husband, Menelaus. Peleus spirits him away – again without Patroclus -- to an obscure, poor kingdom famous for its dancing women, led by the daughter of the king. But Patroclus and Odysseus find him again. Odysseus convinces Achilles to raise and lead the best army in the ancient world – the Myrmidons.

Patroclus realizes he will lose Achilles to this adventure. Miller writes, “If he was nervous, even I could not tell. I watched as he greeted them, spoke ringing words that made them stand up straighter. They grinned, loving every inch of their miraculous prince: his gleaming hair, his deadly hands, his nimble feet. They leaned towards him, like flowers in the sun, drinking in his luster. It was as Odysseus had said: he had light enough to make heroes of them all” (186).

Thus, they set sail for that fateful battle before the walls of Troy. Hector, Ajax, Achilles, Odysseus, Menelaus, and countless others -- all players in one of the greatest stories ever sung, recited, read, studied, and loved. Read The Song of Achilles. As soon as you can. You, too, will be captivated and enthralled. 5 stars

--Chiron, 6/24/12

Hunters and Gatherers by Francine Prose

Francine Prose, a relatively recent discovery of mine, has a powerful, yet interesting and quirky style. I first read her excellent non-fiction work, Reading Like a Writer: A Guide for People Who Love Books and for Those Who Want to Write Them. Of course, the title intrigued me, and the curious cat in me wondered how she read. The book absorbed my attention and admiration from page one. I agreed with much of what she wrote and learned quite a few tips along the way. Naturally, this led me to her novels.

I first read Blue Angel – the story of an English professor trapped in a web of deceit by a ruthless student. Then I read Goldengrove, and now her 1995 novel, Hunters and Gathers. I found this paperback in the sadly missed used bookstore in my hometown, Plotz Books. The cover intrigued me – three satyrs sit on rocks while dozens of nymphs seem to cascade down a mountain toward them. Inexplicably, neither the painting nor the artist are identified, but some research proved it to be by the 19th century artist, William-Adolphe Bourguereau.

Martha works as a fact checker for a fashion magazine in Manhattan. Her boss, Eleanor, is a tyrant and has Martha checking facts “any school child knew.” Dennis, her lover of about a year, has dumped her and Eleanor fired her after she asked for some time off to get herself together. The novel opens with Martha on Fire Island. Her friend, Greta, wanted to spend a weekend with her new lover, and she asked Martha to fill in for her with her elderly parents. While on the beach, she wanders into a group of oddly dressed women, and makes the acquaintance of Hegwitha, who stands apart from the main group.

Martha learns this is a gathering of Goddess-worshiping, New Age women. The central figure in this group is Isis Moonwagon, who promptly strolls into the ocean. Martha recognizes Isis is in trouble, and she dives into the surf to rescue her. Martha is then gently folded into the group. Thus ends chapter one.

This eclectic group of women spends most of its time squabbling over mundane and mountainous points of disagreement. Isis usually has a calming effect – if only for a short time. The novel does have its comic moments. Lonely Martha is drawn into the group, but she remains skeptical throughout. The group travels to the Arizona desert to spend some time learning from a Native American healer.

Although I enjoyed the story of these women, I did notice a rather glaring error in the novel. In an explanation of the gathering, Hegwitha tells Martha, “All over the world women are honoring the harvest and Persephone’s return from Hades to rejoin her mother” (10). A few pages later, still on the beach, “Martha shivered. Oh dear God, it was autumn” (13). The story of Persephone has her returning in the spring to rejoin her mother Ceres, the Goddess of grain, and thus flowers bloom, trees begin to leaf. Neither the fact checker Martha, nor anyone else, notices the error.

This novel is unlike anything else I have read by Prose, but it did have the quirkiness of the others. 4 stars.

--Chiron, 6/20/12

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