SQUARE

square_novel

In this coming of age novel thirteen year-old Tim Holter tells you about his day. In his small Midwestern town a bartender has killed himself. A boy’s new bicycle has been trashed and the boy’s big brother intends to find out who did it. Before noon Mrs. Plummer will stand stark naked in Matsen’s Bakery and Tim will meet a pretty classmate under less than ideal circumstances. After lunch Mr. Schwartzentraub will introduce Tim and his friends to a mysterious chemical compound that has far more uses than Mr. Schwartzentraub could have imagined. And that evening, as the Square fills for a band concert, the boys will set forth on a mission of revenge that leaves everyone, even Officer Burkholtz, with a lot to think about.


Read on

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State of Wonder, a review

As a novelist I am very impressed with the challenges Ann Patchett shouldered when she set out to write STATE OF WONDER. Granted, my knowledge of Ms. Patchett is limited to information found on the dust jacket and the enjoyment I took several years ago when I read BEL CANTO. But nothing from either of those sources suggests how she could so realistically create a protagonist who has an Indian father, is a skilled gynecological surgeon and an experienced pharmacological researcher who lives in Minnesota and who ends up neck deep in the Amazon rain forest surrounded by weird plants, beasts and aboriginals. This writer seems to know everything about everything.

She is also excellent at plotting a story. She releases information with the precision of an IV drip. She marches us head forward into emotionally gripping situations that she describes with unhurried clarity. (Who does not shudder, to give just one example, at the thought of having to tell a friend about the sudden death of a loved one?) Her characters are wonderfully complex and interesting, Dr. Swenson, first and foremost. The resolution of all the various threads and complications is complete and satisfying. STATE OF WONDER is both intellectually interesting and page-turning fun. Warning: Pick up this book and until you finish it other things in your life may suffer.

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A Late Quartet, movie recommendation

If you enjoy classical music and character-rich stories don’t miss A LATE QUARTET, a movie that arrived Friday at the Minor in Arcata. Starring Philip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken, Mark Ivanir and Catherine Keener it is directed by Yaron Zilbeman. The Fugue, a famous string quartet, is turning twenty-five, and like a marriage or a family that has been together for a long time, cracks are beginning to show. In spite of the A-list actors the movie is an ensemble piece in the way a string quartet is an ensemble, in the way the featured music, Beethoven’s Quartet in C sharp minor (Op. 131), is an ensemble piece. Some Rotten Tomato reviewers criticize the film as a melodrama. To me A LATE QUARTET is the opposite of a melodrama. No damsels strapped across the tracks with a train approaching in this film. Just talented, interesting, very human people struggling to balance their needs as individuals with their responsibilities toward an entity that is greater and a music that is more noble than any one of the individuals could possibly be alone.

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NRA RANT

Many are criticizing the National Rifle Association’s response to the recent shootings in Newtown, Connecticut. I wish to say a few words in defense of this organization. The NRA statement that “The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun,” is a core American belief, a slogan that belongs alongside “e pluribus unum” and “In God we Trust.” This has been true from the men who gathered at Lexington and Concord to the drones presently flying silently through the sky on our behalf.

We are a people who believe that the way to solve a problem is to kill the troublemaker.

In our hearts we know this and so we arm ourselves with handguns and assault weapons to protect ourselves from our own government and from each other. There are three hundred million of us, each within reach of a cache of weapons. If just one of us flips out, we have a Newtown-style massacre.

So the NRA is right. The organization just didn’t go far enough. We do need armed guards in every school. But we also need them at every cocktail party, wedding reception and bar mitzvah. We need them at farmers’ markets, at funerals and at prayer vigils. And we will need to develop a cadre of people who can vet the guards and guard us from them. Because who knows? Adam Lanza was not an alien from some other planet. He’s the kid down the street with issues. The one who lives with his mother, a nice woman who volunteers at the school and likes to fire off a few rounds at the local gun range. He’s been to the multiplex and he knows who the American hero truly is: the man who can kill other men without hesitation, without fear or guilt or any other debilitating emotion. He is U.S. Grant, Phil Sheridan, Wyatt Earp, Dirty Harry, a member of SEAL Team Six. He is one of us. And he’s armed.

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GALORE a novel by Michael Crummey, my review

There are two epigraphs at the beginning of this marvelous novel. The first, being from Gabriel García Márquez, suggests we’ll encounter strains of magic realism in the pages ahead. The second, being from Psalms, hints that the book promises a rich language, a unique cadence and an emphasis on story as opposed to character. Both, it turns out, are appropriate.
GALORE is set on “the shore” in far Newfoundland in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The country is wild, the weather terrible, the sea fierce, and the inhabitants seem to have been thrown up on the sand like so much flotsam. The tale begins with a beached whale and a gathering of locals waiting for the creature to die because they can’t figure out how to kill it. This happened “at a time of scarcity when the ocean was barren and gardens went to rot in the relentless rain and each winter threatened to bury them all.” They are eager to harvest the whale’s blubber for food but while they argue over ownership of the poor creature, the whale’s body produces a marvelous fish-smelling surprise that I will leave readers to unwrap for themselves.
The story revolves around two families, the Devines and the Sellers. They cannot abide each other, they do great damage to each other, but they also have occasional need of, and desire for, each other. Over six generations we watch a relentless, sometimes hilarious, ebbing and flowing of their rages, their schemes, their births, desires, disasters and deaths, all informed by grit and resolve. Were there not an abundance of grit the lot of them would have soon disappeared altogether.
The place names alone form a song: Paradise Deep, the Gaze, the Gut, the Breakers, the Tolt, the Rump, Little Garden, Nigger Ralph’s Pond. And the character names ring out like a chant: Devine’s Widow, King-Me Sellers, Selina, Callum, Mary Tryphena, Lazarus, Bride, Obediah Trim and his brother Azariah (a conversation between them near the middle of the book is alone worth the price of admission), Father Phelan (a decidedly earthly priest), Mr. Gallery (who spends much of the book as a ghost), a silent albino known mostly as Judah, Barnaby Shambler (a man of dark deeds and a successful politician), John Croaker (ditto plus), a woman named Virtue, Levi Sellers and his father Absalom. (If “Absalom” suggests Faulkner, that too is appropriate.) You’ll want to mark the family trees at the beginning. You’ll need them for reference.
The stories of these lives are masterly woven and coiled like ship rope but the heart of the tale is language. Language that surges and rolls like the sea; language that I predict will enchant and delight you.

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OPEN CITY, a novel by Teju Cole. My Review

Here is a link to the review published in the North Coast Journal in May, 2012:

http://www.northcoastjournal.com/arts/2012/05/24/open-city/

 

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