The Goodwill bookshelves seem to have been taken over by Nicholas Sparks, the guy who wrote The Notebook. Turns out he wrote other stuff too. I have read none of it, for reasons too complicated to go into ( It’s an aversion to drips).
Today I bought The Lessons of History and Tom Sawyer. Some couples are big enough to have their last names omitted – Sonny and Cher, Barrack and Michelle, Brad and Angelina. Are “Will and Ariel” in that class?
With Tom Sawyer, Mark Twain may have tied John Steinbeck as my most purchased author, not counting Agatha Christie, who is merely a diversion from the heavy hitters (like Mark Twain and John Steinbeck). I’ll have to count someday.
Speaking of Agatha:
There are some things possible for an author to arrange that real life could not. The way Poirot solves cases being a fine example. No real human could notice and connect such small things – and be right – as he does over and over again. I just finished The Blue Train, which Dame Agatha, evidently, was not particularly fond of. I guess it could have been a little tighter, and there might be too many characters – e.g. Russians With Jewels occupy a great many words at the very beginning, and then are not even mentioned again until the very end.
But I liked a lot. There were so many plausible guilty parties that, while having my own favorite, I wasn’t sure until the end: the victim was about to divorce her lazy boy husband, who instead inherited millions upon her death; her scoundrel boyfriend was trying to steal her jewels; her maid mysteriously abandoned her, etc.
Poirot to the rescue, with those miraculous connections -- “It occurs to me – could the boy she saw be a girl?” and, mirabile dictu, he’s right.
Of course, if you aren’t capable of miracles, why invent you and write about you?
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Hello Again: Vidal's Empire
Okay, so I’m blog challenged.
Long ago I read Burr -- twice, in fact -- admiring it greatly, puzzled by it, but not dreaming that it was the start of a series that would consume the rest of Gore Vidal’s career. I’ve since read other of his American History novels – Lincoln, Hollywood, I think 1876.
And now, Empire. Let’s face it: these books have become exercises in which Vidal mingles created characters with historical figures in clever ways, and little more. Nothing happens in Empire beyond friends of Henry Adams making snide remarks about prominent political figures. Which is another thing: they all think alike, the characters and the real people they deal with: the fictional Stanfords and the real Adams, John Hay and William Randolph Hearst. They all agree, for instance, without saying (they do finish each others’ sentences quite frequently), that Teddy Roosevelt was a corrupt and ignorant buffoon, and they do so as if it’s common knowledge that everybody is in on. Which is, of course, absurd.
(Or, as Vidal would write it:
"Which is, of course . . ."
"Absurd?"
"Yes!"
Don’t get me wrong. Vidal writes beautifully and cleverly. It’s just that nothing happens that warrants the setting or the time or, well, the book. Caroline Sanford buys a newspaper and gets pregnant. Her brother builds a house and is secretly gay – though, surprisingly, considering it’s 1904 and same sex public hand-holding is frowned upon, his orientation causes him no problems or even worry. Having Theodore Roosevelt drop in once in a while has no bearing whatsoever on any of that.
What is most worthwhile in Empire are the passages that could have been written in the last few years (they were written in he mid-Eighties):
“Religion ran like poison through their veins, followed by – or mingled with – racism of a sort undreamed of in wicked old Europe. There was always a ‘they’ at whom a pejorative verb could be launched, automatically transitiving ‘they’ to the ominous all-evil ’them’ who must be destroyed so that Eden could be regained” (p. 372)
There are also a number of references to the press inflaming hatred and thus violence, resulting specifically in the assassination of McKinley, but, you know, it happens today on talk radio and Fox News.
Long ago I read Burr -- twice, in fact -- admiring it greatly, puzzled by it, but not dreaming that it was the start of a series that would consume the rest of Gore Vidal’s career. I’ve since read other of his American History novels – Lincoln, Hollywood, I think 1876.
And now, Empire. Let’s face it: these books have become exercises in which Vidal mingles created characters with historical figures in clever ways, and little more. Nothing happens in Empire beyond friends of Henry Adams making snide remarks about prominent political figures. Which is another thing: they all think alike, the characters and the real people they deal with: the fictional Stanfords and the real Adams, John Hay and William Randolph Hearst. They all agree, for instance, without saying (they do finish each others’ sentences quite frequently), that Teddy Roosevelt was a corrupt and ignorant buffoon, and they do so as if it’s common knowledge that everybody is in on. Which is, of course, absurd.
(Or, as Vidal would write it:
"Which is, of course . . ."
"Absurd?"
"Yes!"
Don’t get me wrong. Vidal writes beautifully and cleverly. It’s just that nothing happens that warrants the setting or the time or, well, the book. Caroline Sanford buys a newspaper and gets pregnant. Her brother builds a house and is secretly gay – though, surprisingly, considering it’s 1904 and same sex public hand-holding is frowned upon, his orientation causes him no problems or even worry. Having Theodore Roosevelt drop in once in a while has no bearing whatsoever on any of that.
What is most worthwhile in Empire are the passages that could have been written in the last few years (they were written in he mid-Eighties):
“Religion ran like poison through their veins, followed by – or mingled with – racism of a sort undreamed of in wicked old Europe. There was always a ‘they’ at whom a pejorative verb could be launched, automatically transitiving ‘they’ to the ominous all-evil ’them’ who must be destroyed so that Eden could be regained” (p. 372)
There are also a number of references to the press inflaming hatred and thus violence, resulting specifically in the assassination of McKinley, but, you know, it happens today on talk radio and Fox News.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)