Hot to trot, yet cool as a cucumber

now finished: The Life of Andrew Jackson by Robert Remini
now reading: Moby Dick by Herman Melville

And I must say, reading those two books together is meant to be. Remini even quotes Moby Dick about Jackson, as indicative of the country about which Melville was writing, a country where a concept of populist democracy was taking shape, thanks in large part to that "'ruffian' in the Hermitage." And the intro to my edition of Moby talks all about how Melville grew up in the land Jackson and Van Buren were redefining.

Andrew Jackson is a complex man and I had complex feelings about him while reading this book. First of all, he was a no-holds-barred war hero, and while he demonstrated all sorts of qualities that are widely praised, courage, and sacrifice, and quelling a mutiny, and all that, it's all so - violent! And don't even get me started on the frickin' duels. Jeez. I've been dealing with this while reading the first six U.S. president bios, too, and I've got to say, I find it appalling that these "honorable" "gentleman" would find it necessary to arrange a freakin' DUEL when one has been wronged, and they called the Native Americans savages? Hello?!

That said, you can't argue that Jackson was beloved of the people, and he probably would have been totally fun to have a drink with. There is in fact a scene in the book where he's just kickin' it in a pub in West Virginia while he's the President and talks to all the people who talk to him, including the drunken Irishman who staggers up and pronounces his verdict: "Folks say that you are plaguy proud fellow, but I do not see as you are." Doesn't get much better than that.

Of course, I also liked the scene where James Buchanan, who was minister to Russia, is in Washington preparing to present a noble lady to President Jackson. Buchanan wants to do it all proper royal-style, so he drops by the White House, only to find Jackson kicking back in old clothes with his feet on his desk smoking a corncob pipe. Buchanan tries to gently suggest how refined the Lady is, etc., and Jackson tells him, "I read about a man I was much interested in. He was a man who minded his own business and made a fortune at it." Naturally, Buchanan scurries away, and when the Lady arrives at the White House shortly thereafter, of course Jackson is dressed perfectly and distinguished as ever, and impresses the Lady as the most elegant gentleman she'd ever met.

So that's the Jackson who comes through in this book. As much as he pisses people off, he also gets a lot of stuff done, some of it rather well. Can I fault him for living in a violent time, especially in the volatile "western" states of Tennessee, Louisiana, and such? It's not like our generation has learned to be any less barbaric (see e.g. Iraq, Afghanistan, and the daily jingoism spewed from the idiot box about one "hero" or another).

The only thing is, Jackson hated my boy JQA. I mean, they just did not get along. I learned this when I read my John Quincy Adams bio, of course, but that was when I was discovering that JQA was my soulmate. Now, reading about someone who hated my new BFF at all times and in all things -- well, it was like Jackson hated me, in a way.

And did I mention Jackson walked around with a bullet in his arm for a good portion of his life, because it lodged there after one of the stupid duels, and they couldn't remove it until decades later when it worked its way closer to the surface one day?

All in all, this wasn't the best or the worst of the prez bios I've read, but it was good and I would recommend it. And Jackson, while not part of The Crew (Jeff, Mad, Mon) or my BFF JQA, was an interesting fellow in his own right, ushering in the next generation of politics. He totally helped and was helped by his alliance with Van Buren, to whom we turn next.

Dirty Deeds Done at Quite a Price

now finished: Dirty Diplomacy by Craig Murray (aka my new hero)
now reading: The Life of Andrew Jackson by Robert Remini

And to think that I almost had no idea who Craig Murray even is! It was in seeking out information about Tajikistan* that I stumbled upon his Dirty Diplomacy, or Murder in Samarkand as it was called in Britain before being published in the U.S. I'm not sure why the name changed for the U.S. edition: perhaps they thought we needed a more salacious, scantily clad title? Because god forbid we pick up something that sounds so worldly and international-affairs-like? We're burned out about all that, right? So they tell me. Books and movies about the wars we are waging don't go over well. Now, gee, why is that do you suppose?

Well, this book reminds you that United Statesians' "burned out" attitude may be exactly where Dubya and friends want you. Craig Murray shows up in Tashkent in 2002 as the British ambassador to Uzbekistan and is promptly horrified by the way the U.S. runs the show. To wit, the "Americans" have set up a military base, declared Uzbek president Karimov an ally in their war on terror, and proceeded to ignore his insidious, corrupt regime as it routinely totures, imprisons, and executes hundreds of its innocent citizens. Not to mention the squelching not only of dissidents but pretty much any flow of information.

You one of those anti-Commies? Well, the Uzbeks tell Ambassador Murray over and over they long for Soviet times -- that's how corrupt this regime is. When Craig Murray confronts the U.S. ambassador about all the Uzbeks in jail for their religious beliefs, the American replies, "Oh, well they're mostly Muslim."

It's surely no spoiler to tell you how this story ends: with Craig Murray pushed out of his job for daring to tell the truth, and the U.S. still merrily slaughtering people and turning the other cheek when our allies slaughter people as we all "fight terror" together.

I can't think of anything better you could be doing with your time right now than reading Dirty Diplomacy, with the possible exception of watching the documentary The Good Soldier. As for bonus fun times, Dirty Diplomacy will take you on a whirlwind tour of Uzbekistan. It features everything from bureaucrats sleeping on the job to secret-entrance strip clubs, from gigantic mining operations to the logistics of throwing a party for the Uzbek rich and famous. Plus, I learned about the Battlefield Band, a Scottish group who happened to be playing here in Chicago last Friday; Brian and I attended their fabulous concert. I wouldn't have known who they are either, but for this book. See how eye-opening learning about the world can be?

*For those who haven't heard why I've been seeking out information about Tajikistan, please click here to help Habitat provide homes in Tajikistan!

Upcoming Things!

now finished: Dirty Diplomacy by Craig Murray
now reading: The Life of Andrew Jackson by Robert Remini

I've been oh-so-busy but meaning to post about the amazing Dirty Diplomacy (U.S. title) aka Murder in Samarkand (Brit title) by Craig Murray, who is my hero forever. Dirty Diplomacy report coming soon! Since it was my desire to learn more about Tajikistan that led me to stumble upon his book in the first place, have a look at this page about my Tajikistan trip in the meantime.

For now, I'm wrapped up in the world of president #7, Andrew Jackson, who is a little on the crazy and complex side. I'll write about that soon, too.

Don't forget we're going to start (re-)reading Moby Dick in just about a week!! March 15th is the witching hour whaling day!

One Last Last Station Thing

finished, but still quoting: The Last Station by Jay Parini

Yes, one more bit of my soul placed on the page for all the world to see by Parini-as-Chertkov:

"Again I long to go away, and I do not make up my mind to do so, yet I do not give up on the idea. The great point is whether I would be doing it for my own sake if I went away. That I am not doing it for my own sake in staying, that much I know for certain ... " - p. 129

Wanting to go away, aka plotting my next big move, is sort of my m.o. in life. I may want to go away slightly less than usual because I have just gone away, which is to say I have come to Chicago and am living somewhere new. But just in general, I do still want to flee the country. And yet I stay. "...that much I know for certain."

And I really want to go read War and Peace again this spring/summer after all this Last Stationing. But I think I will reread it every five years or ten years, I haven't decided yet. Instead, this year, I am going to reread/really-actually-read-all-the-way-through Moby Dick. And you're all going to do it with me, starting on March 15 (beware!) Who's excited?!

Leo Tolstoy totally gets me

finished: The Last Station by Jay Parini

Or is it that Jay Parini totally gets me? Well, either way:

"It is not an easy thing to alter the trajectory of your life. People have expectations on your behalf. You come to believe them yourself. When I began to live my life according to new principles, my family and friends dismissed it as youthful folly. Friends and relatives turned against me when I persisted..." - Chertkov, in The Last Station p. 126

The only thing I'm not sure is whether this has more to do with my rejection of religion more than a decade ago, or my more recent cavalier attitude toward law school, or if it's equal parts of both.

The Last Station

finished: The Last Station by Jay Parini

I love me some Tolstoy! This we know. After all, we owe the existence of this blog to Tolstoy. This Literary Supplement to Linda Without Borders was born when I commenced reading The Book itself, War and Peace, a little more than four years ago now, whilst I was over yonder in Korea. I even called it Linda Without Borders: War and Peace until it outgrew the title and became a place for me to think all my literary thoughts.

So, my boy Leo Tolstoy - love him, as did many others, apparently! The Last Station takes place in and around his Yasnaya Polyana estate duing the last year of his life. He and his wife Sofya are not on the same page with regard to personal property, specifically whether he should give his personal property to the masses of Russia. Nor are they on the same page about his friend Chertkov and the Tolstoyan minions who all hang around living communally and professing Tolstoyan values all day.

The Last Station was not on my radar whatsoever until I started reading about the movie (in EW, naturally); then the movie started getting awards season buzz, so of course I knew I was going to read the book, see the flick, and enjoy one or both.

Check, check, and check - although I would say especially the film. The book is well done though. I'm not a big one for "historical fiction" - with rare exceptions - but I tried to appreciate Jay Parini's desire to write it as an homage of sorts to Tolstoy. I think he really digs Tolstoy's understanding of God-is-love. Rejection of the flawed church, but with an acceptance of the depth of religion. And there's the occasional great quote, often from Tolstoy himself, taken from real life sources, like this one:

"In recognizing Christianity, even in its distorted form as professed today, and in recognizing at the same time the necessity for armies and arms to kill in wars on such an enormous scale, governments express such a crying contradiction that sooner or later, probably sooner, they will be exposed. Then they shall put an end either to Christianity (which has been useful to them in maintaining power) or to the existence of armies and the violence they support." - p. 212-213

A few days after finishing the book, I happened upon the film The Good Soldier, a documentary that ponders that very issue of the violence in war and the injustice of a government asking/forcing its citizens to kill. Would that Tolstoy could be here to watch the film with us and comment wisely. He left us great messages, though, about such things as war, and peace. I just wish everyone would read them.

Has anybody here read my good friend Martin?

long since finished: Arrowsmith by Sinclair Lewis

Have I really not talked about good ol' Martin Arrowsmith? I finished him not that long ago, but it's starting to feel like another world now that we are in Chicago, and out of the exquisite suburban torture that was life in the GRapids. (Oh, sigh. Grand Rapids is NOT that bad, and I should stop implying to the blogosphere that it is. It was just my situation there that was that bad.)

But Martin understands! Martin Arrowsmith had his own exquisite tortures in life as he tried to make his way, not the least of which was Wheatsylvania. The scenes in the provincial prairie town of Wheatsylvania, where his wife Leora's family lives, are painfully funny! Like, to the point that the book would be worth reading just for the Wheatsylvania scenes. (But luckily there's plenty of other good stuff, too.)

I had to return my copy to the library so I can't quote you some of the Wheatsylvania dinner table goodness, but suffice it to say everyone just has to be all up in Martin's business about everything, and not because he's, you know, doing anything wrong per se, but because he's, well, Not From Around There, and he is grilled and analyzed and criticized and advised and questioned about everything and nothing. And apart from the invasiveness, they talk about so many things that Just. Don't. Matter. Except to them.

But then Martin and Leora are off to even more adventures in other cities, and the book takes you to unexpected places, much as their lives take them to unexpected places. I think that is in fact the best thing about the book, because it reminds you of what life is and what it does. Also, I did not see the ending coming at all; an unexpected ending is always fun.

As you may know, I love reading these Pulitzer winners partly because of what the fiction Pulitzer is: an award for an American novel. This means so much more than being a novel published in the U.S. by an author who happens to be from the U.S. The works that win this prize reflect and comment on what American life is. Not in a jingoistic, hyped-up way, but in a true way. That is what I like so much about the Pulitzers, how they are an award for Truth, even in the fiction and poetry categories. And Arrowsmith exemplifies that so well.

Who does this remind you of?

"And you make people nervous...You either take to somebody, or you don't. If you do, then you do all the talking and nobody can even get a word in edgewise. If you don't like somebody -- which is most of the time -- then you just sit around like death itself and let the person talk themself into a hole."
-- from Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger

When I think back on Franny and Zooey, I remember it as OK-not-spectacular. But I just looked at my old copy and realized I certainly did fold down a lot of pages!

Flashback Friday: Eighties Haiti

I posted about this on my main blog, too, but since it's a book I must share it here on the Literary Supplement (although "literary" is not one word I have often used to describe the Jennifer Green books). I have totally been reminiscing about In Another Land, the book that totally educated me about Haiti and put it on my radar.

It's part of a series, the Jennifer books by Jane Sorenson, a fairly cheesy series of twelve books about an eighth grader that I for some reason adored and devoured and read over and over back in the day. The weirdest thing about my reading and loving them, I think, is that they are super-Christian. What can I say? I used to be a different person. The main character is "born again" or "becomes a Christian" or whatever, but she also narrates all sorts of other things about her life, like moving to a new city, school, horseback riding lessons, friends, boys, and such.

I remember far too much about the mundane, goofy, and ridiculously sappy details of the books -- and believe me, there are many -- but one of the books actually taught me something useful. In the eighth book, In Another Land, Jennifer Green accompanies her grandmother on a trip to visit Haiti and meet the Haitian child that Grandma sponsors. They travel all around and Jennifer has all sorts of epiphanies about how lucky and rich she really is in her life back home. The thing is - it was a really interesting book! The author, Jane Sorenson, had obviously been to Haiti and been affected by it, and it is kind of cool, I think, that she wrote a book that would educate and possibly inspire adolescents to learn a thing or two about the world.

I have always remembered those books. Even my mom remembers the books; I forced her to read them and she still jokes about how silly some of them were. But the Haiti book was somewhat significant, I suppose. In the two decades since, I sometimes forget that not everyone read this random, obscure series of young Christian fiction books, that not everyone has all these vivid associations with Haiti described in Jennifer Green's trip. Needless to say, In Another Land has been on my mind this week. It's apparently long since out of print - maybe because no one besides me ever bought them?! - but I saw a few listings online for ridiculously cheap. You'll read the book in like five minutes, seriously. I'm not sure if I can recommend the series in good conscience as they are SO incredibly cheesetacular. But hey - people read a lot of crap in this world, so why not read about Jennifer Green and her family and friends? I think I related to her way more than I ever wanted to admit to myself.

And I was always very jealous of her trip to Haiti!

The things we do

now finished: Money by Martin Amis
now reading: Arrowsmith by Sinclair Lewis

"The telephone was a one-way instrument, an instrument of torture." - Money, p. 40

How am I not going to love the protagonist when he says a line like that? I don't even have to be in a drunk, drug- and pornography-addled haze to loathe the phone that way. John Self, the perpetually partying narrator of Money, says way too many things that I relate to. He's also really awesomely pithy, like when he says, "There are, at the latest count, four distinct voices in my head."- p.104 It happens. Drinking too much, going a little crazy? Hey, when you are thrust into New York City -- or New York City is thrust upon you; it can be hard to tell the difference -- it definitely happens.

The plot, roughly, involves him mostly roaming around New York trying to deal with the stars and producers of a film he is--making/about to make/starting once they can work out the script--but he also goes back and forth from NYC to London a couple times in there, and tries to figure out if his girlfriend is cheating, and tries to figure out if he is going to cheat on her, and so on. He also has to figure out if this movie, this script, these actors are going to work. There are lots of characters, restaurants, bars, cab rides, events, and streets of New York City.

John Self has a few problems with people. Sometimes it comes out in a complicated trail of who's with whom, and sometimes it comes out in lines like, "What are friends for? What are they for? I've often wondered." -p. 212 You're not meant to like him, especially, but how can you not have a little fondness for his blithe observation of and participation in all that nasty early 1980s Manhattan has to offer?

This book rubs some people the wrong way. The perceived "misogyny" and rampant pornography scare off some readers, or piss them off, or both. The character is maddening, sure, but I think they're missing Amis' satirical point. Everything is mocked in Money, especially the things on which people are willing to spend their money. Maybe it's too much for readers to ponder that people also "waste" money on going to the opera? I'm not sure.

Self does have his insights, such as "Normal girls, they aren't like the girls in the pronographic magazines. Here's a little known fact: the girls in the pornographic magazines aren't like the girls in the pornographic magazines either." -p.219 Eventually, he realizes he can't go on drinking like an alcoholic ("Only the alcoholics can. They're the only ones who can hack it." -p.250) But redemption will be tough for this one. We are just along for the ride, to see how it will all work out. He has an uncanny ability to describe all the wonderful horror of New York City, and reading this novel made me want to be back there more than just about anything else has since we left. The little New York descriptions are gems:

"Oh, for some of that New York spirit! Over there, you can look all fucked-up and shot-eyed and everyone thinks you're just European." - p. 65

"One of the subvoices of pornography in my head is the voice of an obsessed black tramp or retard who roams the Time Square beat here in New York. Incomprehensible yet unmistakenly lecherous, his gurgled monologue goes like this: Uh guh geh yuh tih ah fuh yuh uh yuh fuh ah ah yuh guh suh muh fuh cuh. I do a lot of that kind of talking in my head too." - p. 104

"New York was just how she'd always imagined it ... a stand in the Great Exhibition of the future that would one day be christened Money." -p.317

The "she" in question is his London ex-/girlfriend who has now arrived and "had been in Long Island for a week doing god knows what with god knows who: she looked tangy, rusty, with a salted sharpness of tooth." -p.317

You know I gotta love him for slipping a little bit about tangy Long Island in there! Of course, he has a line or two about California, too, including the thought as he ravaged his body that he "better get to California soon, while the transplant people still have something to work on." -p.121 Or, "In L.A., you can't do anything unless you drive. Now I can't do anything unless I drink." - p. 157 What can I say? I love this man.

The thing about the debauchery is that it's all written by Martin Amis, so it's a very literary, practically elegant, debauchery. And it's full of lots of wry commentary on media, pretension, and consumerism. The whole book asks what is going to happen to New York when the money bubble bursts. Hmmm....

"Sometimes life looks very familiar." -p. 136

Miles to go

now finished: Up in the Air by Walter Kirn

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Up in the Air. Much like the previous book I read, about John Quincy Adams, boy do I relate to the main character! I never thought I would find myself so similar to two men as I have in reading these last two books.

Ryan Bingham flies - a lot. He is more comfortable in airports and jetting from place to place than he is in conventional things like homes and families. I understand Ryan. I take it that some people don't?

In the grand scheme of things, I am so not a frequent flyer. Nor am I ever likely to be an elite member of any given airline's club: I tend to buy tickets based mostly on price, my miles are spread across a few airlines, and I can count the number of trips I've taken by redeeming miles on one hand. But maybe being a flyer is also state of mind. I tend to be pretty zen about the whole flying thing. And I most certainly do not hate the airlines. Au contraire. I hate the passengers who complain about them.

People get really impatient when they fly, but I think they are impatient about all the wrong things. They are ready to tear the airline apart if there's a ten-minute flight delay, but they have no concept of how to get their stupid bags out of the overhead bin and get off the plane in an efficient fashion. They are all convinced that The Airline is going to lose their luggage, and for some reason it is okay to complain about this theoretical possibility, but they don't like it if I complain about an actuality, such as their child screaming or kicking the back of my seat.

It would probably behoove me to get elite status on some airline, and to get some first-class upgrades. I haven't really been in a position where I've flown more than a few times a year for the last few years, so it's kind of a non-issue. But I would love nothing more than a job that has me flying around all the time. Like Ryan Bingham's. He's comfortable and happy in Airworld. I relate.

Other things I like about the book are 1)that it has an easy familiarity with U.S. geography, which you would think any American has but boy would you be mistaken and 2)it has this whole snarky observation-of-Mormons/Utah thing going on throughout which I found awesome.

The movie, which is currently playing and getting much Oscar buzz, is quite different from the book, but also good. I think if you like one you will like the other, but they are different.

One of the most interesting things about Up in the Air is that it was published around July 2001. Meaning, then September 11 happened, forever altering flying as we know it and probably wrecking the chances of Kirn's whimsical Airworld having mass appeal at that time. That's a bummer for Kirn. I hope the release of the film this year inspires lots of us to pick up the book -- a light read, but with a lot of cleverness tucked in between the lines.

JQA & I

now finished: John Quincy Adams: A Public Life, A Private Life by Paul C. Nagel

It is hard to sum up my feelings about my most recent presidential bio subject, John Quincy Adams, aka my new best friend. I wonder if this is why people read biographies? That eventually, if you read enough biographies, you are bound to come across your doppelganger and in reading an exhaustive account of his/her life, come to a greater understanding of yourself?

I seriously had to stop counting the ways I am similar to JQA -- it was distracting me from my reading. Professional dilemma, temperament, outlook. Let's see: JQA loved travelling internationally and was interested in being a diplomat, but when he got the job offer his first worry was whether the job would leave enough time for reading literature. (Hello.) He really just wanted to be a poet and read things and then think about them, but he was smart so he made it through law school, even though his heart was never, ever into being a lawyer. He kept a diary, narrating and reflecting on daily events for years. He was moody and held people, including himself, to really high standards.

"Resolved to be his own man, Adams went out of his way to demonstrate how individualistic he planned to be. From his first moments in the Senate, he behaved in a manner that sometimes amused his colleagues, frequently baffled them, and occasionally angered a number..." - p.144

He did not like the two political parties and insisted that all his actions in government came from a place of personal integrity, not blind loyalty to a party. He put off getting married and was averse to the dating scene during his college days. Of course: it was a waste of time when he could be reading! He was forever starting projects but not necessarily keeping up with them; he was just interested in so many things. Among these things were languages, of which he learned several.

He was actually quite good at his job, maybe better than his poetry, although he did write some. Oh yeah, and fashion! He took a lot of flak about his clothes, some of it from his mother, Abigail. He just didn't put that much effort into refining his dress, looking nice, or being stylish. This was a problem. When he was up for election to anything, he didn't like to talk about it or to campaign:

"The prospect of a seat in the House had such portent that Adams chose for the moment not to discuss it even in his diary. He kept mostly quiet on the matter until after he won the election." -p. 335

While quite young, he travelled by himself, happily. He came to love astronomy when he started learning about it. He sometimes suffered from melancholy. He quoted Voltaire.

Perhaps one of the greatest summings up was about some tree-planting he was doing against conventional wisdom at the family's Massachusetts house:

"It left him as a minority of one seeking to prove the universe wrong -- a position JQA found quite comfortable." - p. 350

Nagel writes the book drawing heavily on JQA's lifelong diary to structure the story. I think Nagel misses the point sometimes. He has researched the Adams family so widely that I think the breadth of his knowledge makes him miss some of JQA's depth. Nagel doesn't seem to understand that a diary is a place for reflection, reconsideration, rumination, and elaborate plans. It is a place where certain things will be discussed and others ignored, not necessarily in the same proportion that attention is given to them in the writer's daily life. Nagel goes so far as to say JQA was never content but I think he is wrong. I think Nagel just can't relate to JQA, doesn't really "get' him. So how could Nagel come to accurate conclusions?

It's not my favorite biography in terms of being a favorite work, but I loved the experience of reading it, and discovering my double in the form of the sixth president of the United States.

Holiday swap thanks

This year I participated in the Book Bloggers holiday Swap, a fun Secret Santa gift exchange among book bloggers. (And there are many of us, by the way, for those of you who lurk outside the book blogging world.)

I received two hardcovers(!) from my thoughtful Santa swapper: Amigoland by Oscar Casares and Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky. These have both been on my to-read list for a while, and I am grateful for the gift. Of course, I will post my thoughts here when I read them, which I predict will be in mid-2010. What a fun thing this holiday book swap was.

Thank you, Brittany!

When E.M. Forster talks...

now finished: Aspects of the Novel by E.M. Forster
now reading: John Quincy Adams: A Private Life, A Public Life by Paul. C. Nagel

E.M. Forster: I swoon. When I first read him two years ago, I was pleasantly surprised at the sheer awesomeness of his writing in A Passage to India. I've owned a copy of his Aspects of the Novel for years, but just got around to reading it after letting it stare accusingly at me from my shelf of books-on-writing that I somehow keep ignoring while I waste time going to law school, etc. Not only was it high time I read his classic on what a novel is, but it was also time to commence my A-to-Z Literary Blog Project sequel, in which I shall read a second book from my A-to-Z top half, the thirteen authors I liked best. So, this was my second Forster.

He's just so freakin' smart. And literary. And witty, and perceptive. He puts things so well, even when he's just talking about literature and not writing it. He is a true master. I would so love to hear from people who met him or heard him speak before he died. You must be out there - share your thoughts with me! I find everything he says so impressive. Reading Aspects of the Novel, however, I also found myself in fits of jealousy as he analyzed this or that novel; I have a four-page list of reading suggestions now, thanks to him. My Goodreads "to-read" shelf runneth over.

But he did talk about books I have read also. You know, your Wuthering Heights, your Great Expectaions, and perhaps most exciting, War and Peace. E.M. Forster sings its praises, good on him. He's super matter-of-fact about it being marvelous. He even comes out and says that foreign novelists are basically better than English novelists, and he calls Tolstoy courageous and divine. As for The Book in particular, he offers this:

"Then why is War and Peace not depressing? Probably because it has extended over space as well as over time, and the sense of space until it terrifies us is exhilarating, and leaves behind it an effect like music. After one has read War and Peace for a while, great chords begin to sound, and we cannot say exactly what has struck them." -- p. 39

Soooo good. He concludes that the development of novels may well be a reflection of the development of humanity. I want to hang out with E.M. and talk about novels over a few beers. But he gets to do most of the talking.

Last Revolutionary Dude

now finished:
James Monroe: The Quest for National Identity by Harry Ammon
Aspects of the Novel by E.M. Forster
now reading:
John Quincy Adams: A Public Life, A Private Life by Paul C. Nagel

James Monroe took a lot of flak, but he was actually quite awesome. He had integrity and just honest-to-god wanted to do the right things to make this fledgling union into - well, an awesome union! As a diplomat and in all the other positions he held he worked really hard, but the partisan winds of politics weren't always blowing in his favor. This was never more true than during his presidential administration: he was the last sure-thing destined-to-be-president dude from the Revolutionary generation, and pretty much his entire cabinet plus an enemy or two in Congress wanted to be the first of the younger generation to be elected, in 1824. So they spent the whole time jockeying for position and stirring up shite, while Monroe remained unfailingly neutral but still got blamed for lots of dumb stuff.

This book gave me such a greater understanding of him. He wasn't as inherently brilliant as his buddies Madison and Jefferson, but he excelled at being a pragmatic problem solver, which they did not. And he did a lot of things well. He completely and totally saved Madison's skin during the War of 1812, for example. Another likable president who actually did quite a bit to save the day.

Ammon's book is not my favorite of the bios I've been reading; it's a little slow and convoluted at times. But even when I got bogged down, I felt bad disliking the book at all because I so much respect Ammon and other historian/biographers who have combed through pages and pages and volumes and volumes of material for, like, fifteen years to write a well-researched book. Can you imagine working on a book for fifteen years? Is there anything to which I have devoted fifteen years? Besides, say, watching baseball, or Oscar-nominated films. (Which, speaking of, it's totally awards season; check out my ramblings on my "front page" blog.)

Monroe also tried, often, to do the right thing for Native Americans and slaves. Not that he was sure what the right thing was, but he at least tried to solve those huge problems that are such a blemish on the reputations of him and his crew. Besides his attempts to get Liberia going (you know - Monrovia and stuff), he tried to stop the execution of slaves who were arrested after plotting an uprising. It was all such a mess, and I can't imagine what good anyone I know today would have done about slavery if they had lived at that time, despite how easy it is to criticize with hindsight.

I relate to Monroe a lot because he was a little self-critical but also it upset him terribly when people didn't understand him, or misjudged him or his motivations. I think the people around him might have been oblivious to how much he cared, while they were basically willing to be shallow. All in all, I am impressed by my boy Monroe. Except for the part where he enjoyed/was good at practicing law. Yuck. But I do like that initially he, as with all the others, didn't know what he should do with his life.

Next up? My new BFF JQA!

Shutter to Think

now finished:
This Too Is Diplomacy by Dorothy Irving
Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane
now reading:
James Monroe: The Quest for National Identity by Harry Ammon

Yes, I have been reading, even though I have not been blogging. Shame on me. After So Big, I finished This Too Is Diplomacy and Shutter Island, before plunging into another giant president biography -- Monroe, now -- which has consumed my last two weeks or so.

This Too is Diplomacy is something I had partially read before, in raw form, because I was in a writing group with the author, Dorothy Irving. That was my writing group in Boston, right before I went to Korea. I rejoined up with them off and on post-Korea as well, when I happened to be in Boston, but by that time Dorothy had pretty much finished her book and was working on publishing it. The book is about the life she led with her husband and their kids as hubby worked in the Foreign Service through the 1960s and 1970s. Obviously, it was interesting to me even before law school as she read excerpts to us, and now that I have my eyes on the Foreign Service it is even more interesting. Or I guess, interesting in different ways. Anyway, this was the first time I had read the whole thing straight through. If any of you are curious about what life in the foreign service is like, give it a whirl!

As for Shutter Island, it left me confused. I hate it when that happens. Not too long ago Alafair Burke blogged about why people don't like to read mysteries. At the time my gut response was that it's overwhelming for non-mystery readers to listen to the mystery genre enthusiasts; all those die-hards seem to have breathlessly read everything by so-and-so, and you feel sort of looked-down-on if you are a mere dabbler, so you just don't even bother trying to conquer the mystery section. But reading Shutter Island reminded me of another reason that I as a dabbler sometimes feel lesser than those oh-my-I've-read-all-of-her-books people. Because sometimes I straight up don't get it.

I read Dennis Lehane's Mystic River (before seeing the movie) and when I started seeing Leo as duly-appointed federal-maahshall in the Shutter Island previews I became intrigued enough to read this one, too. (I ended up having extra time because the release of the film was delayed for stupid reasons.) I really enjoyed reading the book, and I won't write any spoilers here because I do recommend it, but I literally don't know what happened at the end. I hate that! I consulted with another friend who has read it who supported me and said there was definitely ambiguity and that I am not stupid, but still, I hate it! And I remembered that another reason I'm not a mystery devotee is I hate those people who are always all "Oh, I totally figured that out so early" every single time they read one. I think I resent them. Plus, ugh, why would you want to know how things end before you get to the end? It's not as if I read the last page of a book before the first; that would be retarded. But when I do get to the end? I would like to understand it.

Well, if anyone wants to discuss the layers of mystery and ambiguity in Shutter Island, let me know. Meanwhile, I returned to my presidential bios quest, and have spent the last couple weeks plodding through Harry Ammon's James Monroe: The Quest for National Identity, which is huge and sometimes a little dull. It's a really big book. Heavy, too. I get in my weightlifting practice when I hold it. And the writing is dry, especially compared to the giant Madison tome I just read. But I can't hate on Ammon too much, or anyone who does such amazing amounts of research for these bios. It takes them like fifteen years and they sift through insane amounts of documents, all so I can read a biography of every president to see where we went wrong. Good stuff!

Hi, my name is Sobig.

Hi, Sobig. Well, actually his name is Dirk, but during childhood was nicknamed Sobig, which came from the repeated nonsense of adults asking the baby in a cheesy voice, "How big is the baby?!" and replying "Soooo big" complete with arm motions. This is the first thing that should clue you in to how awesome Edna Ferber is: she makes fun of our silly baby talking, while not making fun of the endearing sentiments people feel about children, especially your own. This all happens in the first two pages of So Big, and it only gets better from there.

I read my first Ferber a few years ago, Cimarron. Like that book, So Big features a strong heroine who deals with farming the land, eventually losing her husband, raising a child, etc. But there is also so much more in this Pulitzer-winning novel, not the least of which is a story about how appreciating beauty and art can take place on a farm, or in a painter's studio.

The themes of artist life and what "success" is resonate with me (as we all know). The magic of the book is that she plants the seeds all along the way and then when we move from the High Prairie of Illinois to WWI-era Chicago, we see the result she has cultivated. If we are smart, then we reflect on our own appreciation of beauty, and how we would answer the question of when does it become "too late" to find the life of love, art, and creation that you abandoned to make a lot of money?

Selina Dejong is a success, not because she married the "right" man, made millions, or has a mansion, but because she knows that the cabbages are beautiful. Her son knows this somewhere inside him, but will his bond-trading, car-driving, pleasure-seeking rich friends outweigh the influence of artists who hang out in Paris and really know themselves?

I think the name Edna Ferber sounds so, well, old-fashioned that we unconsciously assume we have an idea of what her books must be all about. Edna Ferber was pretty bad-ass, though, from what I can tell. It was probably like being named Britney or Taylor in the 1880s, wasn't it? (note to self: discover origins of the name Edna) She eventually ended up hanging out in the Algonquin Round Table in New York, which shows that she was witty and avant-garde-like. I for one have big plans to read even more of her books, like Giant and Show Boat. She is my candidate for author-that-needs-to-be-rediscovered.

Perpetual Union and liberty, please!

now finished: James Madison: A Biography by Ralph Ketcham
now reading: This Too Is Diplomacy by Dorothy Irving
up next: So Big by Edna Ferber

Last night I finished reading the James Madison biography with tears in my eyes.

Spoiler alert? The book ends with the dramatic telling of his death, touching tributes from John Quincy Adams and others, and Madison's final plea for everyone to value both the Union and the liberty for which he had worked his entire life.

Basically, Madison and his buddies changed the world. I think this is all too easy for us to forget, because now we take the United States for granted. But for the past month I have been swept up in the world of someone who not only was born and came of age when the U.S. did not even exist, but who was a huge part of forming the very foundation of it.

The book is superbly researched. I kind of want to be Ketcham's friend. I doubt that I would want to be his research assistant, although I steadfastly admire anyone who is. I think Ketcham read everything while writing this book -- Madison's writings, his friends' writings, his enemies' writings, Congressional reports, colonial newspapers, letters to and from just about everybody who ever knew Madison and his family.

Highlights for me included Madison's time at Princeton and his insane devotion to studying and learning, let alone figuring out what to do with his life. I've already mentioned here that my boy Madison, just like me, read the law due to interest in public affairs but never even attempted to be a counselor-at-bar. Madison was so well-respected in Virginia after his lifetime of service that multiple people praise the depths of his intellect and visited him in his old age just to chat and bask in his wisdom. Plus he came out of retirement in 1829 to be in the Virginia legislature one more time to try to head off the nullification crisis (Southern states resenting the federal government - we all know where that was headed).

A favorite scene of mine was a New Year's reception during Jefferson's presidency -- when Madison was Secretary of State -- whose guests included Native American chiefs and an ambassador from Tunis. The latter took it as a given that the U.S. hosts would provide concubines for him, but then, he did bring Arabian horses along as presents for the U.S. officials and their wives. Ah, dipomacy. He also asked the Cherokee what god they worshipped, and they said the Great Spirit. So he asked them if they believed in Mahomed, Abraham, or Jesus Christ. None of the above, said the Indians. Well, then, asked Sidi Sulliman Mellimelli, what prophet do you worship? None, they said. They worshipped the Great Spirit without an agent. Well then "you are all vile Hereticks" he told them.

How awesome is that? I love how he's so inquisitive, like, well, there must be some prophet, let me just see what category you're in, any religion would be fine. But no prophet at all? Shocking! It just goes to show - again - how much the three biggies of monotheism have in common. And how much do you love the Cherokee and the other Chiefs there who are like, we don't need some prophet. We're directly in touch with the Great Spirit, hello!

Dolley, of course, is a righteous babe. You grow up in elementary school hearing about how Dolley Madison was a "great hostess." Translation? She knew how to party! Not to mention her teenage sister who lived with them during the early years of their marriage to take full advantage of the fashions and social scenes of Philadelphia and later Washington D.C.

And the friendship, partnership, and accomplishments of Madison and Jefferson together? Astonishing. And what good friends they remained throughout their lives, just down the road on their little farms there, always visiting, and philosophizing, and revolutionizing, and whatnot.

Basically - I love this book. I think I enjoyed it as much as reading David McCullough's John Adams. It has definitely renewed my fervor for my presidential bios project. It has also cultivated in me a great respect for Madison and his ideals, including his strong belief in the Union and true liberty.

Luxuriance of Nature's Charms

now reading: James Madison: A Biography by Ralph Ketcham
now also reading: This Too Is Diplomacy by Dorothy Irving

I have spent the entire month of October reading my Madison bio. This is not entirely a bad thing, as I have rather enjoyed delving into the world of Madison ("mad about Madison," Brian calls me right now), but I am a little shocked that it's been a whole month on one book. That's kind of like being in law school again and having time for only one or two pleasure reads per semester. However, I have been doing a lot of stuff during October -- some writing project success, etc. And I have been catching up on reading a bunch of magazines and news, too. Still and all, it's nice to be getting close to finishing Madison.

I'm pretty sure my next presidential bio, about Monroe, will be long too. Most of these president bios are. One's read-a-bio-of-every-president project could easily consume all of one's reading time. I am going to make sure that doesn't happen again, having learned my Madison/October lesson, because there is just too much else to read! My Goodreads queue is getting to be like my Netflix queue!

Now, the honest truth is that Ketcham's book is always interesting, but sometimes it plods along. It's never really boring, it just gets kind of bogged down in the intricacies of the Congress or the trip to Montpelier or whatever. Ketcham doesn't have all of Madison's writings (they didn't all survive, apparently) so he pieces together this life using a lot of other people's writings and observations too.

What happens is the most fascinating little details pop up at the weirdest times. Like when James and Dolley first get married and Dolley's teenage sister lives with them in the Philadelphia scene of balls, parties, and the "social season." Diplomats from France hang out and they party non-stop, it feels like, with fashions in the French style of showing a lot of cleavage. This horrifies Abigail Adams. There's a letter from her to a friend in which she calls it an "outrage upon all decency" and goes on to describe the outrage of using the Girdle to accent the Bosom.

"Most [ladies] wear their Cloaths too scant upon thebody and too full upon the Bosom for my fancy," Abigail writes. "Not content with the show which nature bestows, they borrow from art, and litterally look like Nursing Mothers."

I find that hilarious, "the show which nature bestows." I guess there is no shortage still today of fashionable young ladies who use their clothes and other tricks to enhance that "show" of "nature" that so easily fascinates the boys. What would Abigail think of Us Weekly, for example? But I like to think she would appreciate watching the Oscars red carpet. I could see her sitting at home with John watching and commenting. She would totally give an A+ to some elegant number worn by Meryl Streep or Kate Winslet, but maybe frown at your Bjorks and your Chers over the years. Dolley and James, though, would totally be hosting an Oscar party, with snacks and ballots for their friends to fill out and prizes. It's just how Dolley rolled.

Alphabetting Again

Hey everyone! Remember my A-to-Z literary blog project? Sure you do, because except for those of you who were here in the War and Peace days there's not been much else to this blog. Well, remember when I finished my A-to-Z project and talked about my final thoughts on which authors I like and which I'd like to read again?

Pretty soon I am going to do that. Going to read a second book, that is, by each of the deserving authors of my top half. Thirteen of my A-to-Z authors are going to get another turn in my ever-growing To Read queue. Namely, Amis, Capote, Dick, Eco, Forster, Iyer, Lawrence, Rushdie, Styron, Updike, Vidal, Warren, and Yalom. (Runner-up was Erica Jong. I'll get to her, eventually. And a few of the others. But not in this next round of thirteen.)

For some of these, I have an idea of what to read next, but for others I need suggestions. For example, for Philip K. Dick, back when I read Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said, Sara insisted that I should read his Valis instead. In fact she insisted twice. So I feel compelled to do that one next for him. For E.M. Forster, I am reading Aspects of the Novel next because I own it already and have it sitting by my bed. For Umberto Eco, though, should it be Foucault's Pendulum or not? Should my next Rushdie be Midnight's Children? And so forth.

Most importantly, Martin Amis, since he is first. I am deciding among Time's Arrow, Money, or The Rachel Papers. Anyone? Also, for Pico Iyer I am deciding between Falling Off the Map and Video Night in Kathmandu, leaning toward the latter. Anyone, again?

When is all this happening, you ask? As soon as I finish Madison (I'm past page 400!), another Pulitzer winner, and Up in the Air, I think I will start incorporating my A-C-D-E-F-I-L-R-S-U-V-W-Y into my reading rotation. But I will definitely be spending a few more nights curled up with Madison before I get there.