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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Crossers” by Philip Caputo

April 19, 2013

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After his wife is killed in one of the planes on 9/11, Gil Castle finds himself adrift, unmoored by grief and bewildered at the post-attack atmosphere. His grown daughters try to coax him into therapy that he finds vacuous and unhelpful. Instead of staying in Connecticut, he abruptly retires, winds up his affairs on the East Coast, and accepts an invitation to stay with his cousin, Blaine Erskine and Blaine’s wife Monica on their ranch in Arizona, near the Mexican border. It’s so near the border, in fact, that drug runners and undocumented immigrants regularly pass through.

Gil responds to the outdoor life in ways he hadn’t expected. He enjoys the company of his relatives, but mostly spends time with alone with his dog, hunting or just walking the scenic ranch lands. It feels just foreign enough to take Gil out of himself. Except that, in a way, Gil has come home. Gil’s grandfather and his brother started the ranch a century earlier. Gil’s and Blaine’s grandfather, Ben Erskine, was a Westerner who lived on both sides of the law.

Two events bring Gil back into a life that looks beyond the day to day of his own grief. One day, out with his cousin, they find a near-dead drug runner. Gil and Blaine rescue him, and he leads them to his two murdered friends. The problems of the world are not so far away after all. On another hunting trip Gil meets a beautiful neighbor, Tessa. She is also a rancher, and Gil and Blaine occasionally help her out. And as a result Gil is reminded of the world’s joys as well.

Murdered immigrants, drug runners, land grabs, and law enforcement officers of dubious morals lurk on both sides of the border. The border is often an abstraction to those crossing it and even to those charged with enforcing the boundary it ostensibly marks. As the modern story develops Caputo also draws on Erskine family history and lore. Grandfather and grandsons react in similar ways to similar stresses in different times. Those reactions contribute to the eventual outcome in ways that George Santayana would have recognized.

True to Caputo’s form, there are also vivid descriptions of place, carefully drawn characters and storytelling that will keep you up late to find out what happened. Over the course of the book Caputo considers Mexicans’ hunger for work, Americans’ hunger for drugs, and the greed of those who help move people and drugs from one country to another. Along the way he also considers notions of home, and what makes one bit of ground Mexico and another next to it the United States. Caputo needs a lot of characters to tell this complicated story, and some of the Mexicans in particular are more sketched in than fully developed. But in the end it doesn’t matter, as the many threads come together in an explosive but satisfying finish.

Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics here.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “The Dinner,” by Herman Koch

April 12, 2013

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Do you think the Dutch have brought us only tulips, windmills and painters? (OK, and the tulip bubble.) I would have to add interesting modern novelists to that list, beginning with Harry Mulisch, whose novel “The Discovery of Heaven” is one of the most compelling books I’ve read. After reading “The Dinner” by Herman Koch I can conclude that Mulisch’s work is not a fluke.

As “The Dinner” opens, Paul and Claire are preparing for an evening out with Serge and Babette. It’s clear from the beginning that there is a history and a complex relationship between the two couples, as Paul has bridled at Serge’s initial suggestion that they meet for drinks nearby, rather than in the restaurant. Just what that history is, and how it bears on their past and present relationship, is slowly revealed during the course of the evening.

The restaurant’s dining room is the main stage, but the four central actors, depending on their states of mind, sometimes leave. We follow the rather unreliable narrator, Paul, into the men’s and women’s toilets (he’s in search of his wife) and then further, into the garden. In the course of the book Koch raises issues of loyalty and betrayal in the most challenging of circumstances: when is it right to protect a child from the consequences of his actions? All four of the main characters struggle with the choice, and their mental states fluctuate from calm to furious to distraught. Structuring such a story around an elaborate meal in a fashionable restaurant is an original choice. It works surprisingly well and the mysteries are unravelled and everyone’s true nature is revealed.

I read “The Dinner” in a hard copy and, unusually for a fiction book, one aspect of the volume’s design has stayed with me. The endpapers are a vivid red with just a hint of blue, and the pages are sized so that the endpapers outline the text. That red frame suffused my consciousness while I was reading and coming to grips with the story, underlining the eerie aspects. (I expect to come back to this theme as I continue to read books on an e-reader.) While “The Dinner” is an extremely well-written book and I definitely recommend reading it the issues Koch forces the reader to confront are visceral, and the book can be so painful to read that I could only do it in small bursts.

In her review of “The Dinner” in the New York Times Book Review, Claire Messud suggests that Americans won’t read a novel when they don’t like a character. I didn’t like Paul’s acts, and he’s increasingly revealed to be an unpleasant character. But even Paul had to face reality, and I found the way that Koch made him do so to be compelling. Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics here.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?” by Jeannette Winterson

April 6, 2013

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It’s clear from Jeannette Winterson’s memoir of her childhood that Winterson could not predict what she was going to find when she came home after school each day. Sometimes she was fed and housed; other times she was locked in the coal cellar. More than once she spent the night on the stoop, locked out. Winterson was adopted as an infant and she was an only child. It’s evident to the reader that she was eventually emotionally abandoned and functionally neglected by her emotionally unstable adoptive parents. She captures the emotional distance by almost always referring to her adoptive mother as “Mrs. Winterson.” Mrs. Winterson was working class and a member of a Pentecostal church; somewhere along the way, Winterson believes, Mrs. Winterson gave up sex, along with most other pleasures in this world. Winterson’s father was there but seems to have been dominated by his wife. There’s a lot of disturbing behavior described here.

Writing now, looking back, Winterson understands that the lost love of two sets of parents cost her the ability to love. And that in turn acted as a magnifier, turning all stumbling blocks into intractable problems. But somehow Winterson found her way to safety. Physically, the first of those places was her local public library. Winterson read – all books were forbidden in the house – starting with prose, working her way though what the Accrington Public Library considered English Literature, in alphabetical order. Eventually she found her way to poetry. Still later she discovered the writers, many of them female, who were not to be found on that shelf.

Winterson is too good a writer to say it straight out, but it was in the library that she first found the order missing in her life. And it’s where she first found out about the world, beyond what she had learned reading English Literature.

‘Whenever I am troubled,’ said the librarian, ‘I think about the Dewey decimal system.’

‘Then what happens?’ asked the junior [librarian], rather overawed.

‘Then I understand that trouble is just something that has been filed in the wrong place. That is what Jung was explaining of course — as the chaos of our unconscious contents strive to find their rightful place in the index of consciousness.”

The junior was silent.

I said, ‘Who is Jung?’

‘That is not for now,’ said the librarian. ‘And in any case not English Literature A-Z.’

This conversation occurred shortly after one of her teachers, discovering that Winterson is living in a car, gives her a room. And a front-door key. From that unlikley spot Winterson found her way forward: through Oxford, to a writing career, and living a life with love – tentative, hesitant, frightening but real – as part of it. It’s by no means an easy story to read, and there is no simple happy ending, but it is a story as full of humor and sadness and hope as life itself can be.

Do you agree? Let us know what you think in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics here.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Little Known Facts” by Christine Sneed

March 29, 2013

Triangles are stable structures – except when people form them. Shifting alliances mean shifting loyalties, and one’s interpersonal skills must be ready and acute in order to keep up. How many best friend pairs can you think of who were disrupted by a third person? The stakes are even higher when it’s a love triangle. And as Edith Wharton showed us a nearly century ago in “The Mother’s Recompense,” fireworks cannot be far away when the triangles involve multiple generations in a family.

In Christine Sneed’s novel “Little Known Facts” Renn Ivins, movie star, is making a movie in post-Katrina New Orleans when his assistant is called away. Renn summons his 20-something son Billy from LA to fill in. Billy, who lives comfortably off his trust fund but is otherwise a bit lost, does not take well to being at his father’s beck and call. Yet despite having left his girlfriend Danielle back in LA, Billy is happy to be in the company of Elise, one of leads in the film. She’s about his age, talented, driven, and beautiful. She’s also aware of everything that Renn can do for her career.

Back in LA Billy’s sister Anna, a medical student, has some troubles of her own, including an affair with one of the attending physicians, who happens to be married. And then there are Renn’s two ex-wives, Billy and Anna’s mother Lucy, and Melinda, a caterer, who succeeded her. When the movie is done, Renn and Elise return to LA. Elise might reciprocate Billy’s feelings for her, and Renn occasionally feels more strongly about his son’s girlfriend than might be appropriate. It should be clear by now that Renn, however unfortunately for those around him, finds the triangle very comfortable.

Sneed tells her story in only 11 chapters, each written from a different point of view – Billy’s, Danielle’s, Lucy’s. One or two are in the first person, a couple in the third. Melinda’s chapter consists of notes for her memoir – the one about her life with Renn. Far from confusing the reader, Sneed manipulates the points of view effectively, moving the story along and deepening our understanding of each character’s actions. The fact that Anna and her mother are doctors, and several chapters are built around them, helps keep the novel grounded. “Little Known Facts” is a supple story of modern love, aging, and what it means to seek happiness, set around the edges of the movie industry. Perhaps surprisingly, given the rarefied location, Sneed brings her book to a realistic and satisfying ending.

Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics here.

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Arts and Entertainment, Events

Transit Museum Problem Solvers series discusses FASTRACK repair program

March 26, 2013

The next installment of the New York Transit Museum‘s Problem Solvers series takes place Tuesday, April 9th, and the topic will be the FASTRACK subway maintenance program. Ben Kabak, the Second Avenue Sagas blogger will discuss the FASTRACK program with Larry Gould of the MTA’s Operations Planning Division. They will discuss the complexities of making repairs in a system that never shuts down. In FASTRACK, overnight closures have allowed staff to repair track, replace parts, and clean stations quickly and efficiently. These brief closures require extensive preparation, and it’s Larry Gould’s job to plan for them.

When: Tuesday, April 9, 6:30 pm

Where: New York Transit Museum, Boerum Place and Schermerhorn Street, Brooklyn Heights

Admission: Free, but you need a reservation, available here.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “The Leopard’s Tale: Revealing the Mysteries of Çatalhöyük” by Ian Hodder

March 22, 2013

The archeological site Çatalhöyük, in central Turkey, was the site of a large (33.5 acres) and populous (3000 – 8000 people) town. It was occupied from between 7400 BC and 6000 BC, almost too early to call it a town. There are 18 levels of occupation – people filled in old houses and then built on top of them. The site was first found and excavated in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Ian Hodder is a Stanford anthropologist who is leading the excavations underway now. “The Leopard’s Tale,” is Hodder’s effort to piece together the daily lives of the Neolithic people of Çatalhöyük based on the interesting but perhaps somewhat sparse artifacts that have survived.

There’s a lot the archeologists can tell from the site at Çatalhöyük. People stored grains in baskets. In the early, lower levels of the site, cooking was done by placing heated clay balls into the food; by the later period of the occupation, cooking was done in vessels that could be placed in or over stoves to be heated. The occupants buried caches of obsidian and later retrieved them. They entered their houses from the roof; the stairs or ladders were generally placed over the stove. Floors and walls were plastered and sometimes had painted decorations. Sometimes the inhabitants plastered over the paintings – replastering was done regularly, sometimes almost monthly.

The inhabitants of Çatalhöyük also did some things that we might consider taboo today. (Hodder is careful not to use value-laden words such as ‘strange.’) They incorporated animal skulls, particularly horned ones, into the walls of their buildings. They buried (or possibly re-buried) their dead underneath the floors. Infants and neonates were buried near hearths; older men and women were buried under platforms away from the stove.

But there’s a lot more we don’t know, and Hodder uses his book to outline what the inhabitants’ beliefs might have been. Objects were hidden and then recovered, and Hodder argues that hiding and revealing were the “main symbolic and ritual elaboration” of the town. Shells and beads were buried with the bodies of young children, but not with those of older people. Hodder says, “it seems more likely that the object placed with young individuals have more to do with some form of protection.” It’s fascinating, but necessarily highly speculative. And sometimes he builds speculation on top of speculation.

The title is a case in point. Leopard imagery runs throughout the book, as Hodder’s thesis is that leopards were important yet some taboo kept the inhabitants from bringing leopard remains (at least the kind that survive: skeletons, claws, and teeth) onto the site. It’s a puzzle, as there are many drawings and sculptures of leopards, and paintings of people wearing what appear to be leopard skins. And it makes for a nice theme. Unfortunately, while Hodder’s excitement about the site is evident, and his explanations of what the archeologists have concluded from the excavations are very clear, the book is filled throughout with a tendency towards scholarly jargon. So it’s an interesting if not an easy book to read. Did you think the speculative/knowledge balance was set correctly? Let us know what you think in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics here.

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Arts and Entertainment, Events, Music

Spring Break Events at the New York Transit Museum

March 17, 2013

The New York Transit Museum will hold three performances daily of an original children’s musical every day from March 23 – April 2, during spring break. “Make it Grand!” is all about Grand Central, the engineer who helped design it, and its decoration – from the acorns and oak leaves to the stars of the zodiac on the ceiling. Recommended for ages four and up. Performances are free with museum admission.

The performance times are Saturdays and Sundays at 12:00, 1:30, 3:00; Tuesday-Friday at 11:00, 1:00, 2:30. The Transit Museum is closed Mondays and Easter Sunday.

The Transit Museum is located at the corner of Boerum Place and Schermerhorn Street in Brooklyn Heights. For more information, see the Transit Museum’s website.

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Arts and Entertainment, Events

BRIC program: Inside Cultural Fluency

March 17, 2013

BRIC Arts Media Brooklyn is presenting a program “Inside Cultural Fluency” in conjunction with its exhibit “Cultural Fluency: Engagements with Contemporary Brooklyn.” On  April 4, curator Erin Gleason and the exhibition artists will hold a discussion, Q & A, and interactive performance art piece. More information on the exhibit is available here. The event will be held:

Thursday, April 4, 7-9 pm, at the BRIC Rotunda Gallery, 33 Clinton St, Brooklyn. Admission is free.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “The View From Here” by Deborah McKinlay

March 15, 2013

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Frankie, young and in her twenties, the daughter of British ex-pats living in the Far East, has followed a boyfriend to Mexico. Though he has left, she has stayed on, and is swept up in the orbit of a group of three American families spending the season in a rented house. It’s not clear what season it is, though the children mention having been pulled out of school. The Americans are wealthy, the women have beautiful clothes, and the men have coast-based jobs that they occasionally check into (it’s the 70s or early 80s, long before cell-phone culture.)

Frankie moves into a spare room in the house. She is part guest, part hanger-on, part au pair. She flirts with everyone and makes friends with Patsy, one of the women, who is there with her husband Richard and their two young sons. Ned, who is consistently kind to Frankie, along with his new wife Bee Bee and her teenaged daughter by a previous marriage is another guest. And then there are the Severances, Mason and Sally, who have rented the house. They have three children, Paige, a teenager, and nine or ten year old twins. Frankie befriends Paige and the twins, and begins what she believes to be a secret affair with Mason. It’s all a great adventure, until things begin to turn serious.

Many years later, the grown-up Frankie, now known as Frances, lives outside of London with her husband, Philip, and his daughter Chloe. Frances has just learned two things. She has proof of something she’d long suspected, that Philip is having an affair. The second thing: the recently discovered tumor will kill her.

Frankie/Frances tells the story in alternating segments, moving back and forth in time. You’d think that her past in Mexico would be behind her, the families moved on, the children grown up. But she has some expiation to do.

Time and place are well-described; oddly, given the fact that it’s one narrator at two different times, I had no trouble keeping the past and present straight. The American children were also wonderfully separated, even the twins; it was the American adults I couldn’t tell apart at first. Eventually they resolved into their separate personalities, and perhaps that was intentional – as they resolved, Frankie learned that their interests were not hers, and that their goodwill existed only on the surface. Frances reveals that as Frankie she learned some harsh lessons that year, and also participated in some acts that her grown self finds despicable. Frances’ odd resignation to her circumstances is explained, in the end. It’s an interesting glimpse into the mind of someone who will never forgive herself.

Do you agree? Let us know in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail. com. I also blog about metrics here.

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Brooklyn Bugle Book Club: “Sweet Tooth” by Ian McEwan

March 8, 2013

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Ian McEwan’s heroine in “Sweet Tooth,” Serena Frome, daughter of an (Anglican) bishop who has earned a third class degree in mathematics from Cambridge, is unexpectedly recruited by the British Security Service (MI5). It’s the early 1970s in the UK, and the terrorist threats mostly come from Irish Republicans. Serena’s job at first mostly involves filing. She had a torrid affair at Cambridge with a history tutor, and is still recovering from the way he broke off the relationship. But eventually she is given an assignment to persuade a writer to accept money through a front agency, as part of what is essentially an internal propaganda program.

Serena is alternately dim and perceptive, self-confident and terribly unhappy. Seduction of the writer was not part of what her MI5 handlers had in mind, but the affair happens, and Serena finds herself deeply enmeshed in a tissue of lies. Since she can see her writer, Tom, only on weekends, however, Serena spends most of her evenings at home with books, Tom’s stories and other works. Serena says:

I craved a form of naive realism. I paid special attention, I craned my readerly neck whenever a London street I knew was mentioned, or a style of frock, a real public person, even a make of car. Then, I thought, I had a measure, I could gauge the quality of the writing by its accuracy, by the extent to which it aligned with my own impressions, or improved upon them. . . I was a born empiricist. I believed that writers were paid to pretend, and where appropriate should make use of the real world, the one we all shared, to give plausibility to whatever they had made up. So, no tricksy haggling over the limits of their art, no showing disloyalty to the reader by appearing to cross and recross in disguise the borders of the imaginary. . . .

This passage tugged at the back of my mind as I read the book, because for some reason Serena didn’t quite ring true. And indeed McEwan plays with the reader, showing us snippets of Tom’s stories and letting Serena analyze them. As a result, there’s a lot in the book about the craft of writing. There’s also a great deal about the writers’ marketplace, with asides about literary journals, prizes, and networking. And McEwan, even if he hasn’t put himself in the book (or has he?) does give his friend Martin Amis a cameo appearance. McEwan also violates every canon that Serena lays out in this paragraph (plus a few more I elided.)

As a spy book, it’s not nearly as convincing a story as “Trapeze” by Simon Mawer, which I reviewed here. On the other hand, it’s a completely engaging story that takes in the reader all the way up until the extremely satisfying resolution. Do you agree that McEwan has recovered his mojo here? Let us know what you think in the comments.

Have a book you want me to know about? Email me at asbowie@gmail.com. I also blog about metrics here.

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