What I’ve Been Reading - November 2006

November 30, 2006


H2OThe Hunchback of Notre DameThe Blind Side

Books Acquired:
Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
Square Foot Gardening – Mel Bartholomew
Charming Billy – Alice McDermott
Last Orders – Graham Swift
Drowning Ruth – Christina Schwartz
Saturday - Ian McEwan
Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates – Tom Robbins
Maus I & II – Art Spiegelman
Mrs. Dalloway – Virginia Woolf
The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Notes from Underground – Fodor Dostoyevsky
McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern, Issue #21 – McSweeney’s Press
White Teeth – Zadie Smith

Books Read:
H2O – Mark Swartz
The Hunchback of Notre Dame – Victor Hugo
The Blind Side – Michael Lewis
McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern, Issue #21 – McSweeney’s Press
The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’ve filled my life with books over the past three months, almost to the chagrin of my wife, friends, and pet. What started with the Third Annual South Dakota Festival of Books has morphed into a complete dedication to educating myself in literary history – a quest I’ve begun to call “The Essentials.” And this month, I began my trek. Though, I’ll admit, not before doodling around the rest of my bookshelf in the meantime.

I started off the month saying to myself, “no more books.” A few days later, Kerrie and I went to the First Lutheran Church Bazaar, leaving with a handful of books by authors I revered (Ian McEwan, Tom Robbins) and additions to The Essentials collection (Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.) We also found some award winning books – the Booker Award winning Last Orders by Graham Swift, National Book Award winner Charming Billy by Alice McDermont, and Christina Schwartz’s Drowning Ruth, selected by Oprah for her book club (which, in and of itself, is kind of like a literature award).

In the midst of this “no more books, well, okay, just a few more” spree, I read Mark Swartz’s H2O, a book I had received from Soft Skull Press in my Soft Skull Party Pack. I expected some great things from it – Largehearted Boy had interviewed Swartz recently, and the most recent Believer featured a somewhat glowing review of the novel.

Unfortunately, there was a little bit of confusion. Literally. I was confused. Yes, it’s a good story. But the connections are weak and the book feels too unfinished to receive too much glowing praise.

H2O takes place in Chicago – years after the coasts have been flooded and a mass migration has forced everyone towards the middle of the country. Water has become the world’s most precious commodity, and one man – our protagonist – has created a filter that doesn’t just make water safe; it actually creates water. As in, matter from nothing. A direct break from modern physics.

The book outlines a struggle between our hero and his company. Should he sell out? Or should he cave to the fears of the people; fears that this new water substance hasn’t been tested enough, can’t be trusted, and will actually harm the public?

Throughout the book, a cast of women is introduced, each playing some small part in his life. And here the problems start. These women aren’t fleshed out. I didn’t care a lick for any of them. I barely saw any interpersonal threads, and when I did, it was too late and the characters had moved on, changed views, or disappeared completely. Given a few hundred more pages, everything could have been woven together into a perfect and frightening story. Instead, it was awkward, and it felt incomplete.

Don’t get me wrong – I enjoyed the story. And ultimately, above beautiful writing and staggering prose, I enjoy stories more than style. Which brings me to my second task of November – the first of The Essentials, and one of the longest books I’ve ever read: The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Victor Hugo can write – there’s no doubt in that. He can illuminate simple words and craft them into a complete world. He can create a scene so incredibly visual that it feels as if you’re there, standing in front of the characters and living their lives word for word, action for action.

The first 100 pages of Hunchback, while somewhat tedious at times, is a lesson in setting the scene. Unlike H2O, I knew the background and purpose of every character and location before the story even truly started. I understood the setting – the majestic Cathedral of Notre Dame – and I felt the emotions of the characters. I was there, standing with them, the entire time.

This continued on throughout the book, with pages flying by as if I wasn’t even reading them. Six hundred pages later, I was finished, and I couldn’t believe I had just plowed through a book of it’s magnitude in just a week and a half.

Hunchback ends rather tragically, which is good – I was afraid it would end romantically, with the dear Esmeralda and the horrific Quasimodo falling in love, looking past the ugliness and forming a bond that would essentially turn the 600-page tome into a over-detailed Aesop’s Fable. Instead, I was sad when it ended. It was touching, and I was sympathetic. And from that, I could tell it was a good book.

About mid-month, I received another package of The Essentials – one I had ordered from Amazon in October. Along with a Maus box set (a book I finally broke down and purchased because, as I’ve said before, I need to read it every few years) I received Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, Dostoyevsky’s Notes from Underground, and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby.

Before reading any of these, however, I dipped into the birthday bag and pulled out The Blind Side, Michael Lewis’ story of Michael Oher, a disadvantaged boy who possessed amazing talent and barely any social skills. In it, Lewis (who wrote one of my favorite sports books, Moneyball) describes the path one boy can take if given the right tools – in this case, a family that cares and an unparalleled strength. Oher wasn’t born to succeed, especially not while located in the poorest part of Memphis. But he did, thanks to the kindness of a foster family and a dedication to proving people wrong.

It’s an amazing story, and it’s a story filled with other examples of blind side mechanics. In football, the most important position might be the left tackle – the player that protects the quarterback’s blind side, leaving him open and without fear. He’s a protector. He’s necessary in order for the team to succeed. Oher’s foster family helped protect a young man’s blind side, just as that young man will do when he reaches the NFL in a few years. But most people don’t get that protection. Here’s an amazing statistic – around 80% of NFL-quality high-schoolers never even get a chance to show their stuff. And it’s all because of poverty, lack of exposure, and horrible grades.

While reading The Blind Side, I hard a hard time believing Oher was real. Then I found his college player page. He’s huge. And he’s real. If you read The Blind Side, take a look at this page. You’ll understand who this person is. It will give you a frame of reference.

In the meantime, I also received issue #21 of McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern, which I devoured. Of course I did – I love short stories, and I get a book full of wonderful short prose every three months. I can never wait around for these journals – I just have to read them. Now.

The design on #21 seemed simple, at least compared to the past issues I have received. But on the inside, the design became a little more original. Each story is preceded by a hand-drawn representation, in twelve squares, of the plot and its characters – all done by some of the best graphic artists in the business. And, at the end of each story there was a true-to-life letter to Ray Charles. Some of them are crazy. Some of them are kind of sweet. All of them are real.

An intro drawn by the best in graphic artistry. A great story. A letter to Ray Charles. That’s why I love getting McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern.

Okay. Finally, I bought one more book – another addition to The Essentials: Zadie Smith’s White Teeth. I had to – it’s our book club’s first reading selection.

Wait – a book club? Yes. A book club. Led by Kerrie and me. Me. Who hates book clubs.

Well, I’ve gotten over it, and I’m actually kind of excited (as long as some people show up for it, that is.) And I wanted to start White Teeth, but instead I grabbed another Essential – The Great Gatsby, the second greatest novel of the century, according to a bunch of other people who know a lot about novels.

Remember: I like stories. I appreciate characters and plot and locations more than I appreciate writing style and semantics. With that said, I really enjoyed The Great Gatsby. But the second greatest novel of the 20th century, behind only James Joyce’s Ulysses? What, were all of the voters incredibly rich and in need of companionship?

Gatsby is about a group of wealthy people and the twisted threads of love that complicate their lives. It’s well written, and quite possibly one of the best books I’ve read in the past year, but I see it as something simple – painfully simple, almost. We have luxurious descriptions of things I’ll never be able to afford and quaint little connections between people – remember, it’s not what you know, but who you know! – and a story that is at times tragic and exhausting. It all adds up to be a great short story, extended into novel form.

In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that The Great Gatsby is exactly that – a short story stretched, an idea that couldn’t be reigned in, and instead served as one of the crowning achievements of English literature. It’s no Steinbeck, or even Hugo, but it’s good all the same.

So I’m two books into my quest. The Essentials are falling before me much easier than I had expected. And I’ve found that there’s really no surprise as to why these books are called classics. The Great Gatsby is truly one of the best – though not really THE best – and Hunchback is a marvel in description and a textbook in setting the scene. At this rate, I’ll be quite learned in a few years, able to understand the fine differences between different styles of prose; to differentiate between post-modern and magical realism, and to understand the hidden themes and symbolism of Dostoyevsky’s work.

But until then, I’m content knowing that Fitzgerald writes about rich people, and Hugo writes really long books. That’s good enough for me.

McSweeney's #21The Great Gatsby

Tags: Books, Literature, What I've Been Reading |

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Remaking a classic

November 29, 2006


This post is being simulcast from Post Haste, the HenkinSchultz company blog.

——–

There’s a fine line between creativity and blasphemy. I’ve especially found this to be the case when using classic and commonly revered pop-culture icons in the field of advertising. And over the past week, I’ve discovered two examples that prove the existence of this fine line.

First, we have the Office Space/World of Warcraft mash-up. I like this one.

Then, we have the A Christmas Story/Cingular spoof. I hate this one.

What’s the difference? How can I be so fickle, throwing one spot to the wolves while praising another for it’s clever application?

To me, both of these films are classics. One is a spot on account of cubicle life, complete with stapler wars and TGIFridays. The other is a cult Christmas institution of epic proportions, a movie that has transcended all other Christmas movies to take the place of “The Best Holiday Movie Ever Created.”

When you mess with a classic, it needs to be done carefully, with an importance placed on preservation of the overall idea. If you subtly drop a product in, and it makes perfect sense to connect the two ideas, then you have a success. If you try to cram a product in, regardless of the connection, you end up with a disjointed and nearly insulting effort.

Office Space is about office culture. It’s about wasting time while you’re supposed to be working. It’s about fiddling on computers. And it connects with people who enjoy subtle and smart humor. It matches the World of Warcraft crowd perfectly. It seems logical.

On the other hand, A Christmas Story is a movie about quirky families, character-driven relationships, and the art of getting what you want for Christmas. It is often held up as an example of holiday values – of family and caring and the old-time sensibility that Christmas can, at times, still conjure.

It has nothing to do with cell phones. You could sell bb guns, promote a kinder, gentler Santa at your department store, or develop an “Eat more Turkey” campaign around it. But not cell phones. It just doesn’t work. It’s insulting. It’s like using It’s A Wonderful Life to sell credit cards or other greedy vices.

Using a classic movie, even if it’s done well – shot for shot, word for word – needs to be done to accentuate the product, not just because it seemed like a good idea in a creative meeting, and not simply because it matches the season.

The World of Warcraft spot helps promote the product by creating a logical connection between computer games and cubicle workers. The Cingular spot misses this target, and instead instills a feeling of betrayal, as if someone took your favorite book and changed all of the characters.

Is nothing sacred?

Tags: Advertising and Marketing, Annoyances, Movies |

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Law and order

November 28, 2006


As I walk into the courthouse, I’m instantly reminded of a college science building. There’s an institutional smell – like paper and toner – and the hallways are windowless and jagged. I wind my way from the County Administration Office and place my valuables on a conveyor belt.

I’m headed in for jury duty. For real this time. And my first obstacle is an airport-like security system. I forget my watch on. I’m approached with a wand. I’m nervous, unsure what I’m supposed to be doing, unsure of what the court’s expectations are, unsure of whether I’m even in the right place.

I enter a room filled with a cross-section of the Minnehaha population – old, young, grey, bald, male, female, wealthy, poor, etc. Each of us looks from one face to the next, slowly comprehending the bleariness that comes with an early morning excursion. One man walks in – the life of the party. He’s been here before. He’s already sat in on a trial, and he recognizes his fellow jurors. I’m here for the first time. Some guys have all the luck.

Cancellation after sweet cancellation has kept me at bay, requiring me to report to work and continue on my life as if nothing weird was happening – as if no one was requesting my civic duty be upheld. I look down at my red Juror sticker, and it beams back at me – “It’s your turn now, sucker!” – a bright spot on my otherwise drab grey work outfit. And then, the movie – with actors as wooden as the tables they sit behind – begins.

A barrage of questions awaits. Two days of dirty coffee and ice water, contradicting testimonies, uncomfortable chairs, fluorescent lighting and wood-grain paneling. I’ll soon spend my time dodging questions, ignoring looks, attempting to keep this life away from my own until finally opening up, realizing that I’ll be stuck with these other people for the next few days, and I’d better make the best of it. Initially, I’ll feel as if any mention of my personal life will be cause to send me home. Eventually, I’ll just follow the stream, realizing that I actually kind of want to go through with this crazy “being a juror and deciding someone’s fate” thing.

I’ll spend the next 15 hours – spread over two days, of course – wondering if the lawyers should get public speaking lessons. I’ll compare them to the heavyweight actors on Law and Order, notice their flaws and their unpolished speeches, their two-layered nervousness and their constant second-guessing. I’ll wonder why the judge seems so meek, why he is often unsure of the proper procedure until, after a few seconds, he makes a not-so-commanding decision, taking much longer than the split-second outbursts that occur on television.

I’ll realize that this is all real, even though it seems fake, like a production from a second-rate high school drama department. Then I’ll be asked to make a decision, to enter into a room with 11 other people and discuss and decide the accused’s fate. It will seem so powerful to me. And very scary.

Ultimately, I’ll learn the difference between not-guilty and innocent. There’s no such thing as innocence. In the courts, there’s just a yes or no answer to one question: “Guilty?” Sitting behind the wood-grain paneling, on the uncomfortable chair, filled with dirty coffee and ice water, eagerly awaiting our next recess, I’ll fully comprehend the idea of being absolutely sure – beyond a shadow of a doubt – whether or not an accusation can be held up.

But for now, I’m just watching this video. I’m nervous and excited. And I’m doing my civic duty, and that’s something I’m proud of.

Tags: On..., Vilhauer |

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Illumination

November 26, 2006


The Lights, in SepiaAt some point, many years ago, a group of people decided that the best way to illuminate the spirit of Christmas would be to decorate a tree in lights, ornaments, and garland. The ancestors of these people — children, grandchildren, who knows — took it one step further; they weren’t content with just decorating the tree — they needed to bring it inside, for all to marvel at in the comfort of a heated home.

I don’t know the history of decorating trees for Christmas. All I know is that we do it every year, and it’s an act of pure holiday cheer. It instantly puts me in a good mood, even if the lights on the house continue to go out after putting them on the highest points of the house.

To whomever decided it was a good idea to run a string of lights through a somewhat dangerously dry tree, and to whomever decided throwing ornaments and decorations all over a usually drab dwelling would constitute a perfectly normal form of holiday celebration: Thank you.

Without you, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to swear under my breath while standing 15 feet in the air on an extension ladder. That’s an experience I’d have hated missing.

Tags: Vilhauer |

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Season Ticket Review - Open Season

November 25, 2006


This is the first of a season long Skyforce “season ticket review.” Each home game will be critiqued and celebrated – from Section P, Row 21. I’ll often refer to the Skyforce as “we.” That’s because I own $64 worth of the team – the cost of my discounted Skyforce season ticket.

Skyforce

Game 1 – Dakota Wizards (0-0) at Sioux Falls Skyforce (0-0). November 24th, 2006.

Opening night. Sioux Falls is playing its first game as an NBA D-League franchise, in front of a nearly sell-out crowd. Dave Joeger, former Skyforce coach and recent turncoat, is back at the Sioux Falls Arena. We’re sitting closer than our Section P tickets would usually allow us by using the HenkinSchultz company tickets. This game is going to be great.

And it was. For about 2.75 quarters.

The night started off rather solemnly. There were no fireworks (they were lost in the mail, but promised for the future) and no team merchandise (no explanation given). Even the prospect of slamming a defining victory in the face of their former coach – a coach that suddenly left, feeling either too good to be on the team or too lured by more money to stick around – was muted.

To begin, there weren’t any boos. There were hardly any jeers. This is Sioux Falls. It’s hard to get a crowd to go electric, for some reason. The crowd was dead. They didn’t care that two former Skyforce players – Jerome Beasley and Ronaldo Major – were quietly dismantling the home team’s defense. Or that Dave Joeger, our former coach, was bringing a team back from defeat without anyone on the Skyforce even seeming to notice. Or care.

Until 10:00 into the third quarter, the Skyforce was the best team on the court. They were unbelievable in building up a 16 point lead. I wondered aloud if we were playing really well because we were fired up, or if we were just a bad team beating another bad team – two expansion franchises beating each other up while the big guys waited in the background, ready to blow into Sioux Falls and deliver a 30 whupping.

Then, we squandered the 16 point lead. A few minutes later, we found ourselves down by 10. We became a revolving door. The Wizards played disciplined basketball all night. When the Skyforce fell behind, the Wizards fell back. They played great low post defense, and our jump shots stopped dropping. The boos began. The jeers returned. We were sunk.

Frank Williams was great. He’s our point guard, and he’s the only Skyforce player with any worthwhile big league experience. Williams, with 20 points in the first half, set the pace. Meanwhile, our #1 draft pick Andre Brown scored a quiet 18 with 9 boards, and local white boy Jared Reiner picked up 15 rebounds.

Which brings us to the other local white boy – Joe Dabbert, a favorite among the Arena crowed and easily the Skyforce’s worst player. By far. Without a doubt. I can’t imagine any situation that would warrant Dabbert being successful on the court, especially after his performance last night (0 points, 1 rebound, 3 fouls). Dabbert looked more at home on a football field – he constantly fell over in an attempt to draw offensive fouls, committed stupid fouls, and jumped for the sake of jumping and not for the sake of actually catching the rebounded basketball in his hands and keeping possession of it for longer than three seconds.

Seriously – I saw a half-dozen fans last night wearing their Joe Dabbert t-shirts – loudly, proudly, and without any apology. But here’s the thing – he sucks. Not just tonight – he always has. He’s a college drinking buddy, a friend who you go to the game with – not someone that actually should be PLAYING in the game. And from the looks of the people who wear the Dabbert shirts, he’s not alone.

When Dabbert came out, we held our breath. When he left, we exhaled. From our much-better-much-closer seats, we could really pick out his faults, and they were there, believe me. But he wasn’t the only player at blame for the loss. The entire team played as if they had just met. Andre Brown couldn’t dribble without staring at his hands. Frank Williams looked as if he couldn’t trust his teammates, taking most of the shots over the first ten minutes of the game.

For the Skyforce to get anything going during what could be a very difficult year, they’d better look at themselves a bit differently during practice, during games, at all times in life – as a team, and not as a group of players making yet another stop between international play and the NBA. They need to prove they can play as a team and make their teammates better.

Because God knows, Dabbert needs all the help he can get.

Dakota 114, Skyforce 104

Tags: Basketball, Sioux Falls Skyforce, Sports |

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Black Friday

November 24, 2006


Kerrie and I went to the season opening Skyforce game.

We came home and began putting the lights on our tree.

We realized that some of them were broken. It was 10:10 PM. We needed more lights.

We called Target. They were open until 11.

It’s after 10, we’re stuck without christmas lights, we want them now, and we’re saved by a department store on the other side of town. That’s Black Friday. That’s the only good thing that can come from this day.

Happy (late) Thanksgiving. Happy (late) Black Friday.

Tags: Vilhauer |

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Letters to Keith Law

November 22, 2006


In case you haven’t followed the comment thread, friend-of-BMOWP Eric is angry at ESPN writer Keith Law. Law, who claimed that Justin Morneau’s MVP win was laughable, is now going to recieve a little nugget every day, for a long time. Why? Because Eric is going to harass him for months with a snarkily penned e-mail.

And he’s created a blog about it. (Which makes blog #4? Not including Misc. Asst.?)

Letters to Keith Law. One letter every weekday until spring training starts. If you have ideas, post them below or comment on his site. It’s going to be awesome.

Tags: Baseball, Blogging, Friends, Minnesota Twins, Sports |

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