The Journal of Cole Robinhood by Glenn Russell



 
THE JOURNAL OF COLE ROBINHOOD

5/30/2021

Since I posted my first book review on November 13, 2012 (an Amazon review of The Sculpted Word: Epicureanism and Philosophical Recruitment in Ancient Greece by Bernard Frischer), I've been writing online book reviews ever since, As of today,1,127 reviews to be exact. And let me tell you, posting all those reviews and having avid readers from around the globe, from England, India, Canada and the US to Iran, South Africa, Australia and Argentina read and comment on my reviews has been exhilarating. 

Of course, writing book reviews is all about writing about a particular book. Sure, I frequently toss in my own reflections but whatever I write uses the book under review as the benchmark.

So, in the spirit of keeping things fresh, I'm starting this journal. Or, should I say novel? Since here's the thing: I'll be leaning on my own experience but I don't want to be bound by my past, exactly the reason I'm writing this journal as Cole Robinhood. Catchy name, eh? As far as I can determine, nobody on the globe has the name Cole Robinhood on their birth certificate.

Therefore, in the spirit of creativity and fiction, in the spirit of allowing my imagination free rein, I'll be making up a lot of this as I go.

 5/31/2021

Personal reflection: much of the four stages of my life revolved around society attempting to impose its regimentation. Fortunately, my first five years were spent in isolation out in the woods. Then came the buzzsaw of 1950s American culture, compliments of television, school and sports. Too bad I didn't know myself well enough to steer clear of watching television and participating in team sports.  As they say, live and learn.

At age nineteen, a stroke of good fortune: as a college freshman, I discovered the worlds of philosophy. I subsequently added literature, classical music and the arts. But then the not so good fortune: American work world despises anything touching on things like philosophy and the arts. However, to make a living I had to submit to the demands of work world. To compound the difficulty, in my twenties and thirties I didn't have any special talent or credentials, which left me at the mercy of employers. This translated into (gulp) working as a commercial casualty underwriter for the insurance companies.

At age thirty-nine, prime time of mid-life crisis, I knew I had to make a break (calling it a jailbreak wouldn't necessarily be an exaggeration). Through twenty years of voracious reading and a particular personal dynamism, I did develop special talents permitting me to enter the publishing industry. This I did and reaped the rewards of success for twenty-seven years.  I gave a short speech at my retirement luncheon thanking everyone and noting I have all positive memories revolving around my time in publishing (quite different than those awful years in insurance.  Makes me sick just thinking of all that dreadful nastiness). 

Then in retirement, age sixty-six, I came fully into my own. As Olga Tokarczuk notes when speaking of Leonora Carrington's The Hearing Trumpet, “old age is actually the only time in life when we can finally be ourselves, without worrying about the demands of others or conforming to the social norms that we have been constantly instructed to follow.” How true! The glory of being in a position to finally be ourselves!  For me, a kind of paradise.   

6/1/2021 

According to the great philosopher/mathematician/poet Jacob Bronowski, as modern peoples, we're now living the myth of creativity as opposed to the many traditional societies living the myth of creation. 

This statement has always resonated with me since I have engaged in a sting of creative arts: playing renaissance music, playing a mrdanga drum in kirtans and drum circles, performing spoken word theater, performing physical theater (living sculpture mime, mask acting, commedia dell'artre, street theater), improvisational dancing and, of course, writing, first writing prose poems, novels, line poetry and then book reviews (in many ways, writing book reviews is my true calling as an artist). The key element is creativity, to bring something new, something uplifting into the world.

Speaking of book reviewing, this from my review of On Writing by Stephen King: 

"When I first began writing book reviews, here's what I did: I wrote out great book reviews written by such authors as John Updike, Michiko Kakutani and James Wood, wrote them out word for word just to get the feel for what it's like to write a great review. I also used a digital device to record their reviews and I listened while taking my walks. After a few months, I recorded my own book reviews, alternating with the great writers' reviews until I was satisfied with my writing - my rhythm, vocabulary, use of examples and metaphor.

Fortunately, I have two abilities that help greatly as a book reviewer: 1) I can easily become absorbed in a book, especially a novel, really absorbed, as if I'm living heart and mind in the unfolding story, and 2) both my short-term and long-term memory are excellent for fiction. I can remember the details of the novels I've read 50 years ago as if I read them yesterday, an ability that comes in mighty handy when writing reviews." 

However, no matter what form the art takes, anything from playing trumpet, acting Shakespeare, painting portraits to writing novels or avant-garde poetry, one thing is a MUST: to be on fire, to be passionate about what one's doing, to be dedicated to every step in the process to make sure what is being created is the best possible work one is capable. 

What does Cole Robinhood have to say about all of this? I checked in with Cole (in many ways, he's my second self – keep in mind this journal is a novel right from the first page) and good news: Cole agrees entirely! Hey, wait a minute.  Since this is The Journal of Cole Robinhood, which one of us is writing these words?

6/2/2021

Cole Robinhood - Life #1: After studying philosophy in college, Cole Robinhood made his way to India where he studied yoga and meditation with a master. After sufficient training, the master instructed Cole to do a ten year solitary retreat, practicing a physically demanding form of yogic meditation where one can remain in a state of blissful awareness for hours at a time. 

Cole Robinhood - Life #2: After studying philosophy in college, Cole Robinhood met a beautiful Swiss lass visiting the US who happened to be a serious student of philosophy, a graduate student in a Swiss university.  They fell in deeply in love, married and moved back to Basil, Switzerland where the lass, Lauriane by name, continued her study of philosophy (she was from a family with money) while Cole dedicated himself to writing about art and literature. 

Cole Robinhood - Life #3: After studying philosophy in college, Cole Robinhood learned the tricks of the stock market.  He made a quick fortune, moved to California and dedicated himself to the sport of surfing.

All three Cole Robinhood lives above, especially two and three, have money as the foundation; in other words, Cole has the good fortune to be freed up from chasing a paycheck.  Turns out, there's so much truth in what Marx said: most people are alienated from the end of production, they don't enjoy their job or "career" but simply show up every day for the paycheck. 

* * * * 

"Ultimately, you have to play to your strengths."  This quote from novelist Dennis Lehane is so true but some people, Cole Robinhood, case in point, have to learn the hard way.  Darn!  I so admire artists, musicians and writers who discover their true artistic calling at a young age.  When did Cole Robinhood discover his true artistic calling to be a book reviewer?  At the tender age of sixty-three.  Sixty-three!  Cole made a commitment to keep himself in good health so he can enjoy a long, fruitful career as a book reviewer.  Goal: to live to a healthy one hundred six, which translates into being a book reviewer for forty-three years, the number of years many women and men spend on their one artistic strength.  Cole reflects: "I guess I'm just a late bloomer."  

"Hey, Cole, how about a novel?"  "This journal is it, buddy.  As close to a novel as I'll get." 

6/3/2021

"I wanted to live among books."  So says Alberto Manguel, one of our greatest living booklovers.  Taking a look at Cole's three lives, we can see he'll be surrounded by books as he writes about art and literature.  As for his other two lives, not so much.  As for me, I always, always wanted to live among books ever since I fell in love with philosophy, art and literature in college.  Prior to college, I spent my days outside, swimming, diving, surfing, running, biking, walking and playing other sports.  I read books but nearly always when assigned in school.

Cole started his avid reading as a kid - adventure stories, the classics and then at age thirteen, the magic age for many kids who become serious readers (and even writers) of science fiction, he fell in love with the tales of Philip K. Dick - explosive imagination squared!

6/4/2021

The difference between Cole and myself leads to reflections on life and wisdom.  Like many people, I'm not overly thrilled with all the garbage my society force-fed me when I was young, nor am I pleased with my younger self's level of intense stupidity.  One ancient myth I continually think about: Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom, born fully formed.  Oh, to be like Minerva, to start off in life with wisdom!  I know, I know...we human are not nearly so fortunately - we must earn wisdom through years of absorbing life's hard knocks, years of living through the consequences of lacking wisdom (the polite way of putting it), that is, being  dunces, boobs, dummies, not knowing ourselves or the rhythms of nature, human nature included.   

"If I only knew then what I know now."  How many people have voiced this wish?  Round to the nearest billion.  Of course, the key is learning from our many mistakes.  I recall Schopenhauer saying individuals who are society's artists, writers and philosophers tend to have a terrible young adulthood, making mistake after mistake since they truly come into themselves only when they are older adults, sometimes much older adults.  Such individuals, Schopenhauer goes on, are simply not equipped to effectively handle the rough hurly-burly, the conniving, the wheeling and dealing and backstabbing so all-pervasive in the world of commerce and business.  This was exactly the case with me, for sure.  Reading this section of Schopenhauer's essay had me not only nodding my head but crying.

* * * * 

James Wood judges a book review as a legitimate literary form, on the same level with an essay, short-story or poem.  I agree - and I've conveyed this to a number of younger writers dedicated to writing book reviews.

Over the years I've expanded the ways I go about writing a book review, moving out from the traditional New York Times format to reviews where I'll list and highlight things like themes, individual characters, specific aspects of a story - a most effective way to convey as much information as possible within about 1000 words.

Tangential observation: many people nowadays make a decision to see a film based more on the movie trailer than on what a movie critic might have to say.  Recognizing this dynamic, when reviewing a novel, I attempt to create a combination book review/trailer thereby providing a reader with a more colorful portrayal of the novel.  Is this book worth my time to read?  This is the key question I attempt to answer when I write such a review.

6/5/2021  

The great novelist Henry James much preferred individual book reviews chock-full of examples and quotes rather than literary theory regardless of the theoretical slant.  This is my preference also. 

I recall scanning shelves and shelves of books of literary theory when at Powell's Books in downtown Portland. I looked through dozens of volumes written by such as Roland Barthes, Terry Eagleton and Northrop Frye. But, darn, I couldn't find even one book that interested me.  I had to admit any theorizing or philosophizing about literature holds zero appeal for me. 

 When it comes to novels and short stories, what I enjoy and find most helpful are well-written, insightful book reviews.  I've read many thousands of book reviews. Among my favorite writers of book reviews -  Michiko Kakutani, Parul Sehgal, Edmund White, James Wood, Jim Shepard and several excellent reviewers on Goodreads. Additionally, a nod to a list of other authors of book reviewers I've enjoyed for a special reason: Thomas M. Disch and John Clute (Science Fiction) Ariel Dorfman and Alan Josephs (Latin American literature), Orville Prescott (the first full-time book reviewer for the New York Times), Christopher Buckley (humor) and Carlin Romano (book reviewer for the Philadelphia Inquirer back in the 1980s and 1990s - author of the first book reviews I fell in love with).  

6/6/2021

Cole Robinhood - Life #1 continued: following his ten year silent meditation retreat, Cole walks down to the village to check in with his master.  The master can see Cole has benefited tremendously from his many years in silence and solitude.  Such blossoming in the life of a yogi is something to behold.  The master gives Cole his next sadhana practice: ten more years in silence and solitude, deepening meditation, awakening even more bliss, continuing to make yoga, the union with the divine, the firm, unshakable ground of his life.  Cole, now age thirty-three, walks back to his cave. 

6/7/2021

My first published work ever - a prose poem or microfiction I wrote at age 38 -

THE BACON SLICER

While watching a machine that slices bacon at the farmer's market, a man with a large family and many personal interests was struck with a great idea.  That evening he went down to his basement and spent all night constructing a steel apparatus four feet high and seven feet long.  The next morning, when his creation was finished, he pressed himself up against the back of it and turned it on; he proceeded to go through the contraption and come out in thin strips just like bacon.

He - all seven slivers of him, that is - wobbled up the stairs to the kitchen where he was able to hug his wife and five children simultaneously and still have one sliver left over.  His wife was perplexed, but his youngest daughter looked up at him with a bright smile and said, "Daddy, you're so wonderful."  

6/8/2021

Cole Robinhood - Life #2, Continued: Cole married Swiss lass Lauriane at age twenty-three.  He's now age twenty-six and a young author of a best selling children's book about a man, Mr. Swiss, who visits the Kunstmuseum Basel to view all the fine art.  Meanwhile, Lauriane not only continues her study of philosophy but teaches philosophy part-time at the local university in Basel.  The couple now have a baby girl - Zoé. 

* * * *

As a dedicated book reviewer, something Parul Sehgal said strikes home.  Parul told an interviewer she sees Hilton Als as the gold standard for a critic since he doesn't write about anything that doesn't matter to him.  

I took this statement to heart - unless I'm moved by a book, unless what the author says really matters to me, I am simply not going to spend the time and effort writing a review of that book.  And when I do write the review, I will zero in on what matters to me.  I might have to write the review in a "highlighted themes" format to get to what matters to me but if that's what it takes, that's what I'll do.  

6/9/2021

What does it mean to be a Goodreads reviewer?

Being a Goodreads reviewer does have its advantages. Unlike a reviewer like Michiko Kakutani, reviewer for the New York Times, who, in effect, was obliged to finish reading and writing a review of a book she hated (I can picture Michiko fuming as she turned the pages of The Kindly Ones, Mortals and several other novels), if I find the book I'm reading distasteful, I nearly always move on to another book.

Likewise, Parul Sehgal told an interviewer she sometimes struggles through the number of pages she sets as the day's goal.  Parul is motivated to finish the required amount, knowing she'll reward herself in some way, like a piece of chocolate. 

I could never bribe myself to read like that. For me, the reading itself is the reward. When reading ceases to be pleasurable, I know it's time to stop. 

Also, critically important: I'm not on anybody else's schedule nor do I have to abide by anybody else's rules and word count.  Of course, I'm not being paid nor do I have the advantage of a professional editor. But that's life - there are always trade-offs.

6/11/2021

What common ground do I share with Cole Robinhood?  Beyond doubt, a LOVE of reading books and writing about books.  

Here's one of my very first reviews of a novel I can relate to (understatement) because I was subjected to the crush of office work for eighteen years as a young man -

THE BIG CLOCK by Kenneth Fearing

Oh, yes, how the clock still goes on humming. Kenneth Fearing heard its mechanical, deadly heartbeat, saw its two giant claws scrapping around and around the numerals – twelve on top, six on bottom, nine on the right and three on the left, back in the 1940s when he wrote his novel, The Big Clock – a tale about the work-a-day world filled with people willing to conform, no matter what the price: high blood pressure, cerebral hemorrhages, ulcers eating out the lining of their stomach, moral decay eating out their soul. As Fearing’s main character George Stroud says about the clock: “It would be easier and simpler to get squashed, stripping its gears than to be crushed helping it along.”

One of my all-time favorites, Kenneth Fearing’s classic noir/thriller published in 1946 is not only a caustic commentary on American business but a story holding the reader in suspense with a keen desire to keep turning the pages to find out what happens next right up to the last sentence. More specifically, the novel features the following:

Multiple Narrator/Rotating First-Person
Not only is the story told from the point of view of George Stroud, a sharp-looking, nimble-minded publishing executive/husband/father, but from the point of view of six other men and women – and with each rotation of first-person narrator the story picks up serious momentum and drives toward its conclusion. Considering how effective multiple narrators can be in the hands of an accomplished writer, it’s surprising this literary technique isn’t employed more frequently.

Femme Fatale
What’s classic hardboiled noir without a femme fatale? There’s Vivian Sternwood in Chandler’s The Big Sleep, Brigid O'Shaughnessy in Hammett’s Maltese Falcon, Phyllis Dietrichson in Cain’s Double Indemnity -- and, yes, of course, Pauline Delos in The Big Clock. Here’s George Stroud’s first impressions when meeting Pauline at a posh uptown Manhattan party: “She was tall, ice-blonde, and splendid. The eye saw nothing but innocence, to the instincts she was undiluted sex, the brain said here was a perfect hell.” Incidentally, here are the first impressions of a similar sharp-looking, nimble-minded married man on meeting femme fatale Caroline Crowley at a similar posh uptown Manhattan party in Colin Harrison’s 1996 thriller, Manhattan Nocturne: “She may well have been the most beautiful woman in the room. . . . her face was no less beautiful as it approached, but I could see a certain determination in her features.” Goodness, some things never change.

The Power of Myth
Robert Bly speaks of a major character from ancient Norse mythology: the giant: the giant is a being we can not only view as huge, cannibalistic, mean, violent and heavy-footed, but also as psychic energy from our shadow side that can, when we become enraged, take possession of us. Perhaps, on some level, the author was aware of this mythology when writing how business tycoon Earl Janoth reacts with extreme violence after Pauline makes accusations about his homosexual relations with Earl’s life-long friend/business colleague: “It wasn’t me, any more. It was some giant a hundred feet tall, moving me around, manipulating my hands and arms and even my voice. He straightened my legs, and I found myself standing.“

Greenwich Village Artist
George Stroud collects the paintings of Louise Patterson. As a point of contrast to the men and women droning their life away in an office, Louise is a complete eccentric who hates anything smelling of the business world. Since events pull her into the story, she interacts with Stroud and his colleagues. Here is a snatch of dialogue where she lambasts one of the mousy white-collar types, “What the hell do you mean by giving my own picture some fancy title I never thought of at all? How do you dare, you horrible little worm, how do you dare to throw your idiocy all over my work?” The author gives Louise Patterson a turn as one of the first-person narrators -- a real treat for readers.

The Art of the Novel
Kenneth Fearing was a poet as well as a novelist. Although The Big Clock is a scathing depiction of the world of business, it is also a work of first-rate literature: all of the characters are complex and developed. There are no easy answers given; rather, Fearing’s poetic vision prompts us to reflect deeply on the challenges we face living in a modern, urbanized, highly standardized, clock-driven world.

A New York Review Books (NYRB) Classic, its two hundred pages, can be read in a few days -- highly, highly recommended. 

6/12/2021

Some people say they lack the concentration to listen to audio books.  Not me - once I click into listening to a good audio book, I can listen for hours and hours at a time.  Audio books are cool - it's as if a listener is given yet again another dimension of the book.  A good narrator can make a huge difference.

Occasionally I get in a funk where audio books simply don't grab me, as the case this past week.  My remedy: start listening to Three Trapped Tigers by G. Cabrera Infante, one of the most exuberant novels ever written.  And the narrator is excellent. 

6/14/2021

In his fifteenth year of solitary, silent retreat as a yogi, Cole Robinhood reached enlightenment.  He dedicated the remainder of his life to the Goddess of love, beauty and bliss. 

6/15/2021

Colin Harrison's 1993 Bodies Electric shares much in common with Kenneth Fearing's 1946 The Big Clock - both novels are set in New York City, both novels spotlight drama within a large publishing corporation, both feature a narrator who is a thirtysomething supersharp executive in emotional crisis, both also feature a stunning young female beauty (hardly a surprise!) and both make a powerful statement on the society and culture of their time.  Last but hardly least, both novels have made a great impression on me - I've read the books and listened to the audio books multiple times.  Here's my review -

BODIES ELECTRIC by Colin Harrison

 "My name is Jack Whitman and I should never have had the first thing to do with her."
- Colin Harrison, Bodies Electric

Colin Harrison's novel is not only a thriller but a study in sociology, psychology and cross cultural collisions, a novel of hard-boiled language and fast-paced action. As by way of example, I'll link my comments to several quotes from the opening pages:

Thriller - "My name is Jack Whitman and I should never have had the first thing to do with her - not with what was happening at the Corporation at the time. But I'm as weak hearted for love and greedy for power as the next guy, maybe more so. And I was crazy for the sex - of course that was part of it." Jack Whitman is the first-person narrator and this is how the novel opens, an opening Raymond Chandler and his fictional private-eye Phillip Marlow would appreciate.

Sociology - "And it was equally clear that if the woman had been dressed in a pair of tight jeans and cheap red pumps, she might be a New York-born Puerto Rican whore addicted to self-destruction, carrying a purse filed with rubbers and wrinkled bills and selling herself to all comers at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel, a woman who, despite providence's gift of fine bones and large, deep eyes, was forced to love life faster and harder than was ever meant." The author has Jack Whitman make pointed, telling and sometimes scathing observations about society on nearly every page.

Psychology - "Morrison, second in command in the Corporation, the man everyone feared . . . . Morrison had lost half a leg and most of a hand as a Navy SEAL in Vietnam, having survived, he had the confidence of five men. Combat had shown him that we are all merely walking bags of meat, and once a man has decided that, all manner of brilliant scheming becomes possible." Indeed, Harrison's novel is a study in corporate psychology. One could argue Bodies Electric should be required reading for anybody contemplating a career in the business world, particularly the American business world.

Cross-Cultural Collisions - "What is certain is that as Liz waited for the light, a silver BMW with tinted windows . . . pulled over and someone poked the short metal barrel of a nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol over the electric window and started shooting. . . . Liz was right in the way of it." Liz was Jack Whitman's beautiful young pregnant wife and both Liz and her seven month old daughter in the womb were killed by a Harlem gang's bullets. New York City aka the Big Apple as the American melting pot on speed. Harrison loves the city (and he said so directly in an interview) and captures NYC's hyper-energizing hum.

The characters play for high stakes, as well they should, since they are each caught in an emotionally-charged net of circumstances and faced with life and death choices. Regarding our main character, Jack Whitman - he sees the twenty-something cinnamon-skinned beauty with her little four-year-old girl on the subway in two ways: as Madonna and Child and as an exotic sexually-charged object of desire.

In the aftermath of his tragic loss, the magnetic pull is too powerful to resist (one way to think of Whitman's attraction is in terms of Carl Jung's archetype, the "anima"). Whitman hands her his business card and offers help, which turns out to be the first step in a series of events swirling himself and others in unexpected and sometimes dark, violent directions. For my money, Bodies Electric is a modern classic. 

---------

6/17/2021

Here's a review I'm especially proud of since James Wood told me he LOVES it!

JR by William Gaddis

This 700+ page novel by William Gaddis (1922-1998) is a splendid work of literature. And in case you’re wondering about the title, JR is the name of one of the main characters, a grungy 12-year old boy who happens to be a financial genius working his money-magic from a public telephone booth in a hallway at his school. An alternate meaning of the two huge letters on the book’s cover could be ‘Jabbering Ruck’, since the novel is mostly dialogue and, make no mistake, every single person – down-on-their-luck men, flower-loving women, corporate business-types, school administrators, ticket takers, school kids, old ladies – do not possess the patience or capacity to hear one another out. Nearly every sentence in the entire novel is cut off before the sentence is completed. And, equally telling about American culture, everybody stops talking mid-sentence to answer the phone. Interruption as a mode of communication.

There is a quote cited in the middle of the novel: ‘That a work of art has a beginning, middle and end, life is all middle.’ Curiously, from the very first page to the last page, I had the distinct feeling I was in the middle of Gaddis’s novel, and for good reason: there are no chapter breaks nor scene demarcations, the dialogue has no character attributions, that is, there are no he said, she said, Tom said, Amy said. Dialogue and descriptions, action and interruptions, connections and misconnection, intimacies and alienation are part of one unending literary gush – novel reading as three weeks of ultimate extreme rafting down white water rapids. Do they pass out awards for finishing JR? They should.

And, man o’ man, what a novel: grand in scope, sweeping social commentary, satire, dark humor (yes, be prepared to laugh-out-loud a few times on every page) as Gaddis writes about multiple aspects of the American dream and American nightmare and everything in between – business, commerce, education,, government, sex, love, marriage, divorce, vision, literature, art, music, to name just a dozen – and with some of the most memorable characters you will ever encounter. However, I can see where Jonathan Franzen and other literary types judge JR a difficult book. But, from my own experience, once you follow Gaddis’s pace and rhythm, the language is quite engaging and not at all overwhelming. Here is a snatch of dialogue where an old aunt explains some family history to a visiting lawyer:

“Well, Father was just sixteen years old. As I say, Ira Cobb owned him some money. It was for work that Father had done, probably repairing some farm machinery. Father was always good with his hands. And then this problem came up over money, instead of paying Father Ira gave him an old violin and he took it down to the barn to try to learn to play it. Well his father heard it and went right down, and broke the violin over Father’s head. We were a Quaker family, after all, where you just didn’t do things that didn’t pay.”

How about that for insight into the culture? A young boy wants to play violin instead of fixing farm machinery or dealing in money. Well, whack! . . . take that kid. Get back to work so you can hand me some money! Bulls-eye, Mr. Gaddis. And heaven help those adults who don't grow out of wanting to play music or paint pictures or write books. Darn. . . why don't they really grow up and get a real job and do something useful so they can make some serious money?

One of my favorite characters is Whiteback, the school principal, who speaks pure Buffoon-ese. My guess is Gaddiss had great fun including Whiteback. I love the fact Whiteback displays his Horatio Alger award and 56 honorary degrees on his wall. 56! Here is Whiteback meeting with Dan, one of the school testers, and a Major Hyde, a corporate-military type pushing his company’s agenda on the school. At one point in the conversation, Whiteback pontificates on the justification of monies being given his school for standardized testing:

“Right, Dan, the norm in each case supporting or we might say being supported, substantiated that is to say, by an overall norm, so that in other words in terms of the testing the norm comes out as the norm, or we have no norm to test against, right? So that presented in these terms the equipment can be shown to justify itself in budgetary terms that is to say, would you agree, Major?
--- I’ll say one thing Dan, if you can present it at the budget meeting the way Whiteback’s just presented it here no one will dare to argue with you . . . “

What a scream. No joke, no one will argue. How do you argue with blustering sophistic double-speak?! Language as an administrate cover-up. Ironically, JR was published during the Watergate era.

In one scene we have Jack Gibbs making his entrance into a ramshackle, crumbling apartment, bottle in hand, to join his buddy. Through Gibbs's rant, Gaddis gives us the myth of the American writer/artist – the surly, gruff, liquor-fueled, poetic, perceptive outsider shooting holes through all the hypocrisy, shallowness, stupidity, self-righteousness and insensitivity of modern American life. It is as if the spirits of Henry Miller, Jackson Pollock, Charles Bukowski and other American tough-guy writers and artists loom over Gibb’s shoulder; matter of fact, one could take the words of Gibb’s rant and easily transpose them into a number of Bukowski-style poems. My sense is Gaddis also sees these looming spirits and knows the downside of the myth. What real freedom is there when one is tied to the scotch bottle and crusty, hard-boiled cynicism? But, then again, perhaps Gaddis detects some keen wisdom in a crusty cynicism, after all, his novel depicts how modern American cultural fuels one-dimensionality and a constriction of choice, where people are forced to live in a world constantly bombarded by noise, tawdriness, commercialism, land destruction, cesspools and intrusive gadgets.

JR is a challenging book, but a book well worth the effort. And, even if they don’t give you an award for finishing, at least you can tell your friends you made it to the end.

6/22/2021

One of my favorite novels, one I read three times over the course of 25 years.  My review:

HIGH ART by Rubem Fonseca 

Fantástico! Brazilian author Rubem Fonseca's High Art is among the greatest of Latin American boom novels. I’m not alone in my praise – in his glowing New York Times book review, Mario Vargas Llosa judged the author’s work a stunning accomplishment, a combination of amusing detective novel and an elegant literary experiment of the topmost aesthetic and intellectual order.

A fictional fiesta. Certainly one of the high arts of High Art is the art of breathtaking storytelling. To attempt a synopsis would be ridiculous as there are too many colorful stylistic spirals and as many unexpected curves and curls as there are feathers on a Hyacinth Macaw or Toco Toucan. Rather, I'd like to share my excitement for this book that I've read three times and counting by noting a number of captivating characters and dazzling details:

Mandrake the lawyer: The novel’s first-person narrator goes by the cartoonish name of Mandrake. We can judge such a name as a parody of pulp detective fiction. He’s a criminal lawyer in Rio and is teamed up with a hardworking Jew by the name of Wexler. All the many references to Wexler’s Jewishness can also be seen as a parody, this time of social stereotyping. Mandrake doesn’t work nearly as hard as Wexler when it comes to defending clients because he’s continually sidetracked by investigating the truth behind the crimes he’s drawn into.

Mandrake the irresistible playboy: Actually, Mandrake has to deal with another major distraction: beautiful women. His leading girlfriend at the moment is tall, thin, ravishing Ada with her long legs and neck slightly curved forward. Ada would like nothing more than to wed Mandrake and start a family. Good luck, dear lady! Although you are in the lead, there are at least two or three or four (I lost count!) other attractive, vivacious sexpots who keep knocking on the playboy's door.

Mandrake, the eccentric: How eccentrically oddball? One morning our Sherlock Holmes wannabe accompanies two real detectives at the apartment of a rich socialite. They find the young lady’s bloated corpse on her bed, having been strangled sometime the previous evening. And where is Mandrake’s attention? Why, he’s making remarks about the fashionable décor, all the furniture, paintings, lamps and carpets speaking to an owner bathing in luxury. And while the head detective is busy gathering evidence, Mandrake scrutinizes the magazine covers on the coffee table: Amiga, Status, Donald Duck and then pleads with the other detective to let him feed the exotic tropical fish in the aquarium lest they go belly up.

Camilo Fuentes: An enormous, powerful Bolivian from Indian stock, a man who doesn’t mess around when it comes to conducting his business trafficking drugs for gangsters and seeking out targets to be murdered. Camilo especially hates Brazilians since they have always looked down on him as a Bolivian and as an Indian, as someone who is poor and badly dressed, but most of all, he despises Brazilians because, in his eyes, they are all disgusting dogs.

Hermes: Specialist in Persev, a code word for a set of tactics and skills of knife handling and knife combat. In the aftermath of being stabbed himself, Mandrake seeks out Hermes, a former client who owes him one since the Rio lawyer got the knife expert off a murder charge. Mandrake takes his combat lessons to heart and from this point forward wears a leather shoulder strap for his new Randall. Rubem Fonseca delves into the details on what it means to make a knife an extension of your very arm. "Hermes reached out his hand and picked up the knife. A friend of mine raises birds. I once saw him stick his hand in a cage and grasp a bird to transfer him to another cage. This was the way Hermes held the Randall, as it were alive, capable of escaping from his hand."

Iron Nose: Nickname for the black dwarf José Zakkai, kingpin of a gangster mob, a man keen on accumulating and wielding power. When asked his specialty, Zakki answered: “Survival. When I was born my mother took one look at my hands and fainted. I had webbing between my fingers. . . But here I am, a first-class chatterbox, though I still haven’t grown much.” Even hardened gangsters and murderers realize Iron Nose is not a man to laugh at (although his cover is working as a clown for a circus) – you just might be forced to eat huge hard-shelled cockroaches if you don’t give Nose the information he wants, fast.

Rafael: Knife fighter and professional killer, a students of the Professor (Hermes) whose hobby is the cultivation of roses. “I have more than a hundred and fifty different species. My mother had the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen, to this day. And I think they’re the most sublime flower of all.”

Ricardo Mitry and Lima Predo: both men wealthy, completely self-centered, cruel and vicious – in the grand tradition of Latin American multigenerational tales, we are even treated to the particulars of their family genealogy. During one memorable party at his apartment, Mitry brings out a silver tray containing several small mirrors with fine lines of white powder along with a crystal vial filled with pills of every color. In attendance are two young glamorous prostitutes, Titi and Tata, well dressed, well tanned and absolutely scrumptious. During a dance in the nude, Mitry pinches Tata’s ass and proclaims to all: “The newest dream of the powerful – that flesh should have the durability of synthetic rubber.”

Pop Culture: One hip, shapely Rio goddess wears a shirt that says: COCA-COLA – THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES, another upper class call girl sports one reading: I (big read heart) NEW YORK. There’s references galore to popular movies, both old time black and white and current ones playing in living color: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Vincent Price in The House of Usher, the pornographic Orgy of the Perverts. Radio programs, television shows, videocassettes, glossy magazines, sensationalist newspapers - as we turn the pages, no mistaking the fact we are in hopped-up, with-it, trendy Rio.

High Culture: Not only a plethora of general historical and literary allusions but more specifically, Ajax, Zeus, Achilles are among the copious references to all things Greek: Greek mythology, Greek history, even Greek philosophy. As Mario Vargas Llosa acknowledged in his review, such mentions and citations adds a certain dignity and aesthetic dimension to Rubem Fonseca’s novel.

High Art: As in deft, nimble style, as in a story jam-packed with such flamboyant characters and absorbing scenes, the book will almost hop out of your hands to dance the samba. Is there any question about how I can’t recommend High Art highly enough?

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 6/26/2021

I'm including book reviews in this journal since my creative energies have been dedicated to writing reviews these past 8+ years.  I posted reviews for all 22 of Zoran Živkovic's novels.  Among my favorites:

THE LIBRARY by Zoran Živković

The Library - Zoran Živković's short novel is a tour de force of imagination, a delight most especially for readers, like myself, for whom libraries hold a special place in the heart.

Zoran Živkovic is no stranger to libraries. The Serbian man of letters has spent a lifetime sifting through stacks of books in his capacity as academic, philologist, essayist, researcher, publisher, translator and connoisseur of science fiction. His experience served him well when it came time to write these highly original tales.

The Library - a series of six encounters with libraries, all told in intimate first person by an unnamed narrator. As to the ways in which these six captivating, whimsical, occasionally beguiling yarns interlink is left entirely up to you, the reader.

Here they are. In the spirit of sharing my enthusiasm for the magic of The Library, I'll offer a quick snip on five and say a bit more on the one library that most tickled my fancy:

Virtual Library - Sitting at his computer, reading through his junk email, the narrator is intrigued by one email that announced: VIRTUAL LIBRARY with the slogan "We have everything!" Rather than his usual practice of instantly deleting, he opens it up. He decides to test the veracity of such a bold claim by searching for his own three published books. To both his astonishment and consternation, he discovers this online library has posted a photo of his younger self, the years of his deaths (nine different years) and not only his three books are listed but a grand total of twenty-one, eighteen of which display a publication date in the future. Ahhhh! He shoots off a pointed email to the VIRTUAL LIBRARY and to his stupefaction receives an instant personalized response. From here, the email exchanges spin out into even more bizarre dimensions. If Jorge Luis Borges was alive today, I can imagine his wry smile reading Virtual Library.

Home Library - "Common sense is all very well and good, but you can't always rely on it. Sometimes it is far more advisable and useful to accept wonder." So reflects the narrator as he has come to accept the wonder of climbing forty-four steps up to his second-story apartment but only forty-one steps on the way down (he counted and recounted numerous times). And then when he mysteriously receives a series of large books from an unknown sender in his mailbox his capacity for wonder over common sense is tested to the limit. In one interview Zoran Živković stated "Home Library is exemplary of my idiosyncratic approach to the art of the fantastic. All the essential keys of my poetics are contained in it."

Night Library - Similar to The Encyclopedia of the Dead authored by his fellow Serbian Danilo Kiš, Zoran Živkovic's narrator is in a library at night, after hours. In the Kiš tale, the narrator reads about his father's life, a life too ordinary to be documented in history books; in Živkovic's tale, the narrator chooses to read about his own life, a life he resents documented in any book. Humor mixed with horror - echoes of Nikolai Gogol, one of the grand literary masters Zoran Živkovic most admired.

Infernal Library - For artists in the medieval world, hell is burning in flames surrounded by devils with pitchforks. For Jean-Paul Sartre, hell is other people. For the narrator in this Zoran Živkovic tale, a man who avoided reading books his entire life, hell is - I can't bring myself to write it. You fill in the blank.

Noble Library - A tale that's too much magical mystery tour for me to say anything other than I urge you to read for yourself.

Smallest Library - The unnamed narrator pays a visit to the booksellers where they always set out their wares, used books, every Saturday year round, rain or shine, under the Great Bridge. At the very end of the row, peddling his books in an old ice cream vendor’s cart, there’s a new seller - small, wrinkled, gray bearded, hoarse voice - who tells the narrator he has what he is looking for. When the narrator asks how he knows, the old bookseller simply says, “It’s not hard to tell. It shows on your face.” The narrator is taken aback since he can now see the old man is blind.

Following a further exchange, the narrator is handed a bag of books to which he asks how much money is owed. Between hacking coughs, the vendor says, “You owe me a lot. But not for the books. They are free.” When the narrator asks why, the blind one tells him, “Because that is the only way for you to get them. I don’t sell books.”

Back in his apartment, he empties out the bag of books and to his amazement there are not only the three books the old man spoke of but a fourth book, an old edition in obvious excellent condition. No writing appears on the chestnut-colored cover but when he opens the book, after a chestnut-colored flyleaf, “the words The Smallest Library were written at the top of the first page in tiny, slanted letters.” Although there is one word on the next page which he assumes is the book’s title, he is a bit perplexed to find neither copyright information nor author. No matter, when he flips through the pages he can see the book is a novel with numbered chapters.

But he hankers to know more details about this seemingly anonymous edition by an anonymous writer. The computer to the rescue. He looks up the website for The National Library that has absolutely everything about every book ever published. He plugs in the one word title. Nothing. Perhaps, he ruminates, he has the spelling wrong. He opens the book once again to check the title page. Holy thunderbolts! “What I saw on the third page simply could not have been true. A lump formed in my throat. The difference was much more than one letter. A completely different title, consisting not of one word but three, greeted me.” And then, after his hands stop trembling enough to take a gander at the pages of the novel itself, he’s in store for an even bigger jolt: it is a completely different novel with not numbered chapters but chapter titles.

At this point our writer-narrator swings into high gear in an attempt to solve the puzzle. Reading this Zoran Živković tale, I was right there with him step by step, each revelation as much a surprise for me as it was for him. The suspense mounts and we do not discover where all this mystification is leading until the very final sentence. Then, as if watching a time-lapse film of a flower coming into full bloom, miraculously, the underlying meaning of the entire sixteen-page story bursts forth. 

6/27/2021

Who would think one of the most penetrating novels about artists and art, creativity and creation would come from a crime fiction writer in the style of David Goodis or Jim Thompson?  Kenzo Kitakata caught me by entirely by surprise.  Here's my review -  

WINTER SLEEP by Kenzo Kitakata

Kenzo Kitakata from Japan has made a career of writing hardboiled crime fiction. You want gangsters and the underworld? Read Ashes, The Cage and City of Refuge.

Winter Sleep, the author's fourth book translated into English, is a world away - this is a novel about artists and their art.

Winter Sleep centers on Masatake Nakagi, age thirty-nine, an internationally renowned artist who has recently spent three years in prison for killing a man during a bar brawl. Since Nakagi paints mostly abstracts, we might think of him as we would Jackson Pollock or Clyfford Still or Hans Hofmann.

Nakagi also serves as the tale's narrator, thus we follow the artist in his daily routine of morning run, painting, eating, drinking and occasional sex during his stay at a secluded cabin up in the mountains.

However, being a famous artist comes with a price - as if he's the blue ribbon strawberry pie at the county fair, a string of men and women all want their slice of Nakagi.

Topping the list, there's stunning Natsue pulling up in her white Mercedes. Art dealer and all around business sharpie, Natsue has definite plans for Nakagi, both professional and deeply personal.

Akiko is an eighteen-year old beauty who addresses Nakagi as sensei since she's an aspiring artist who wishes to learn from the master. Conveniently, Akiko is renting a mountain villa not too terribly far from Nakagi's cabin.

Forever the man with questions, writer/journalist Nomura seeks to solve the puzzle that is Nakagi in order to discover what it takes to be both great artist and unrepentant murderer. If he can extract what he needs, Nomura might even be able to write more than just an article - he'll have enough material to write a book.

On one of his visits to the cabin, Nomura brings along Oshita who is much more than just another thirty-year-old art student - Oshita claims to have come from Nakagi's heart. And another thing about Oshita: like Nakagi, he's also a murderer. But Oshita got off from going to prison due to the testimony of a psychiatrist pronouncing him 'incompetent'.

Kenzo Kitakata frames of his tale thusly - clean and simple, not a trace of complexity or mystery hovering around the edges, a most befitting frame since (and this is the critical point about Winter Sleep) the real fire, the sweet juice, the Dionysian core of the novel revolves around the creation of art.

Sure, there's an element of suspense in the closing chapters (a crime fiction author just can't help himself) but to repeat for emphasis: Winter Sleep is a novel about artists and their art, the foremost artist, of course, is Nakagi, but there's also Akiko and Oshita. To underscore this point, I'll segue to a number of direct quotes.

Nakagi trots up the stairs to his second floor studio where he previously had drawn one line on a huge canvas. He tells us, "I soon became totally engrossed. Using charcoal, I covered the canvas with black lines. I started to see something in the blackness. At that point, I stopped. I had been standing in front of the canvas for three hours, but it felt like a second. I could usually work only in natural light, but when a fit like this came, it didn't matter."

I hear echoes of art critic Harold Rosenberg announcing back in the 1950s that many abstract expressionist artists approach their canvas as “an arena in which to act” rather than as a place to produce an object. “What was to go on the canvas was not a picture but an event.” Rosenberg termed such an event "action painting." From a number of Nakagi's reflections and observations while creating, I had the definite impression he was a spiritual brother to those American action painters.

"A painter leaves behind paintings the way a hiker leaves behind footprints; once he's made them, they're just there, belonging to no one."

Nakagi's statement here speaks to his identity being neither entwined nor defined by any of his past artworks. One has the feeling Nakagi is on the cusp of a creative explosion, similar to when Jackson Pollock transitioned to applying paint to his canvas positioned on the floor.

Akiko and Nakagi in conversation where Akiko says, "Landscapes and still lives and people are easy to paint because you can see them. It's harder to paint what's in your heart. You can't see anything there."
"Well, there are feelings," I said.
"You've had a lot of practice putting those feelings into color and form, haven't you sensei?"
"I've had a lot of practice drawing what I see as I see it."

It's that 'as I see it' that makes all the difference. As an artist and creator, Nakagi judges himself living on a completely different plane from what he terms 'ordinary human beings'. There is a hefty dose of Nietzschean philosophy here (in the sense of artist as spiritual seeker and visionary expressing in and through art). A question one can ask while reading Winter Sleep: To what extent does moving through life as an artist contribute to Nakagi's apparent indifference to conventional rules and moral codes?

Nakagi critiquing Akiko's drawings: "Sketching is something like - it's like drawing yourself. That's what all painting is, really. But you aren't trying to see yourself clearly."

One detects how radical and transformative Nakagi's Nietzschean view of art: the finished work doesn't reveal the apples or trees or model one uses as a subject as much as the work reveals the soul of the artist.

Nakagi speaking to Oshita: "I'm me. I'm not you. You say you came from my heart, but you can't paint like me. You're not me. You're you."

Such a powerful dynamic - Nakagi recognizes Oshita did truly come from his heart but painting and artistic expression are on a completely different plane. What Oshita needs to paint is not being in touch with Nakagi but Oshita being in touch with Oshita.

I could go on offering commentary on dozens of other direct quotes. Winter Sleep makes for a rich, compelling read. If you're into art, that is.

7/1/2021

I read and reviewed a few Parker novels by Donald E. Westlake writing as Richard Stark - then it hit me, as if Parker was himself speaking to me: "If you want to join me on my heists, read all the novels in order."  I took Parker's words seriously and went back and read and reviewed all 24 Parker novels in order.  The first Parker novel sets the tone.  Here's my review

THE HUNTER by Richard Stark

“When a fresh-faced guy in a Chevy offered him a lift, Parker told him to go to hell.”

The above is the first line of the first chapter of The Hunter, the first Parker novel by Donald E. Westlake writing as Richard Stark.

Mr. Westlake told an interviewer: "All fiction starts with language, what kind of language do you use - starts with the language, then goes to the story, then goes to the people." And regarding his Parker novels specifically: "I want the language to be very stripped down and bleak and no adverbs; I want it stark. So, the name will be Stark just to remind me what we're doing here."

As they say, the rest is history. Under the pen name of Richard Stark, grand master of crime fiction Donald E. Westlake went on to write 24 Parker novels - number 1-16 from 1962 to 1974 then number 17-24 from 1997 to 2008.

The Hunter introduces readers to Parker, one of the most memorable characters in all of fiction. That's right - not just crime fiction but all fiction.

Physically, Parker is "big and shaggy, with flat square shoulders ... His hands, swinging curve-fingered at his sides, looked like they were molded of brown clay by a sculptor who thought big and liked veins. His hair was brown and dry and dead,..His face was a chipped chunk of concrete, with eyes of flawed onyx. His mouth was a quick stroke, bloodless."

Parker is always Parker, he's never called by his first name, if he has one at all, but you can bet a mil if he did it wouldn't be Clarence or Alister or Yale.

Parker has been working heists for eighteen years, roughly one a year, where he joins other heisters on a job - hit an armored car, rob a bank, steal jewelry, that kind of thing, usually going for cash since it's the cleanest.

On the job, Parker is always the true professional - all business, focused, keenly perceptive, constantly thinking through the possibilities. Parker is also the ultimate heister - solid, steady, calm, cold, calculating, keen on self-survival and, last but hardly least, willing to kill whenever necessary.

Mr. Westlake recounts his dealings with publishers: "When Bucklin Moon of Pocket Books said he wanted to publish The Hunter, if I’d help Parker escape the law at the end so I could write more books about him, I was at first very surprised. He was the bad guy in the book."

Oh, yea, bad to the bone. Here's what Dennis Lehane, contemporary crime writer and lifelong fan of Richard Stark, has to say: "Parker is as bad as he seems. If a baby carriage rolled in front of him during a heist, he'd kick it out of his way. If an innocent woman were caught helplessly in gangster crossfire, Parker would slip past her, happy she was drawing the bullets away from him... If you stole from him, he'd burn your house - or corporation - to the ground to get his money back."

And that hardness remains consistent in all 24 Parker novels. As per Mr. Westlake, "I’d done nothing to make him easy for the reader; no small talk, no quirks, no pets. I told myself the only way I could do it is if I held onto what Buck seemed to like, the very fact that he was a compendium of what your lead character should not be. I must never soften him, never make him user-friendly, and I’ve tried to hold to that."

Turning to The Hunter, recall Parker tells that driver of the Chevy to go to hell. Parker's walking across the George Washington Bridge to Manhattan. Parker's going for a very specific reason: to find wife Lynn and a guy by the name of Mal Resnick since both wife and Mal pulled a double-cross on him back in California during a heist.

As he takes long strides across the bridge, Parker can feel his large hands around Mal's neck, squeezing, demanding Mal tell him how he can get his $45,000, his fair split from that California job. Then when Mal spills, Parker tightens his squeeze until Mal's cowardly eyes bulge and he breaths no more.

As to how it all plays out, you'll have to read for yourself. And I dare you to stop reading after you're done with chapter one. Shifting to philosophy, two of the many reasons why Richard Stark will appeal to a much wider audience than simply crime fiction buffs:

Number One:
On the Parker novels, the great Irish author/critic John Banville tells us: "This is existential man at his furthest extremity, confronting a world that is even more wicked and treacherous than he is." Since I'm a huge fan of existential literature with its themes of alienation, absurdity, freedom, authenticity explored by such French authors as Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus, Georges Simenon and Pascal Garnier, I'm especially taken by Richard Stark.

Number Two:
Anthropologists cite prior to the advent of agriculture six thousand years ago, we humans were hunters for nearly one hundred thousand years. In many ways, Parker embodies this hunting spirit (The Hunter, so appropriate a title). Thus, on some level, we can feel a kinship with Parker.

Also, according to one of Westlake/Stark's leading critics, Parker is a wolf in human form. Now, of course, wolves hunt in packs. Parker is a heister and heisters, like wolves, work in packs. But here's the rub: the other men and women (mostly men) Parker must work with are human, all too human, with their bloody human emotions and human personalities that always seem to get in the damn way. And herein lies the great drama of the Parker novels - to see how Parker the wolf responds to all the many challenges and double-crosses he must inevitably deal with. So gripping.

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A fantastic author!  I'm a new fan of Mario Levrero.  Here's my review of the only Levrero novel currently available in English translation.

EMPTY WORDS  by Mario Levrero

 Uruguay, the Latin American country famous for producing strange writers - none stranger than Mario Levrero (1940-2004).

You want far out? You want peculiar? You want uncanny? A Mario Levrero novel is so strange it crosses over into the literary land of gleeful weirdness.

Gleeful weirdness. Say that three times fast while laughing and jumping up and down. My kind of writing. And Mario Levrero is definitely my kind of author.

Mario Levrero wrote over two dozen books, mostly novels. The first Levrero novel to be published in English is the book under review - Empty Words.

Mario Levrero's masterpiece, The Luminous Novel, will be translated into English this August. I can hardly wait.

The Luminous Novel - 400 pages detailing why he, Mario Levrero, could not write the novel he received a Guggenheim grant to write.

Mario Levrero possessed a boundless imagination. Critics and reviewers were forever attempting to categorize Mario's writing but he was simply too creative for any school or niche, no matter how expansive. As Mario told an interviewer: “It would be far more interesting for them if, instead of writing, I committed a murder.”

Ever since Mario published his first novel, La Ciudad (The City), at age 26, one fact has always remained consistent: everything Mario Levrero has written can be recognized instantly, his literary voice is that distinctive.

Question: What is writing for Mario Levrero? Answer: a brain teaser, a mystery, a tool for solving mystery, both a means for exploring the unconscious and a bi-product of the unconscious, a creative articulation transcending categories, a free expression of the imagination.

Turning to Empty Words, we have a narrator who embarks on a therapy to better his life: improved penmanship. "The idea, then, is that by changing the behavior observed in a person's handwriting, it may be possible to change other things about that person."

According to the narrator, we're talking change on a number of important levels: “transforming a whole plethora of bad behaviors into good ones and catapulting blissfully into a life of happiness, joy, money, and success.”

After nearly two month of practice, the narrator reinforces his initial thinking: "I have to let my inner self change and grow under the magical influence of graphology. Big writing, big me. Small writing, small me. Beautiful writing, beautiful me."

Does his personal metamorphosis go further? Oh, yes. With more practice, he reports: "I want to get in touch with myself, with the miraculous being that lives inside me and is able, among so many other extraordinary things, to fabricate interesting stories and cartoons."

Such ruminations culminate in a rousing crescendo of self-discovery: "That's the point. That's what it's all about. Reconnecting with the inner being, the being which is part, in some secret way, of the divine spark that roams tirelessly through the Universe, giving it life, keeping it going, and lending reality to what would otherwise be an empty shell."

Now, do you sense Mario Levrero might be sticking a sharp satiric needle into his narrator's fleshy backside, suggesting all this inner glory via improved handwriting might be so much bullshitski? Could be, especially since Mario provides a note on the text and a Prologue that themselves might be written with his tongue deep in his cheek.

And how does our narrator fare in his goal of improved handwriting? As he quickly discovers, his attention is forever being pulled in the direction of literature and meaning. This to say, when his focus shifts away from maintaining uniform loops and crossing all his t's while keeping his handwriting large and smooth to focusing on the content and meaning of what he's writing (a literary man just can't help himself), his penmanship reverts back to his old habit of small, cramped and a jagged mixing of print and script. Darn!

Problems assail our poor narrator from every angle. Oh, yes, to compound his difficulties, other slices are continually being added to his writer's pie - for example: his disturbing dreams, insomnia, past unsettling memories, son Ignacio's interruptions, drama revolving around a dog and then a cat, wife Alicia's list of demands, his natural inclination to philosophize.

"The fact is, we're all nothing but the crossover points of threads that stretch far beyond us, reaching from one unknown place to another. Not even this language I'm using belongs to me. I didn't invent it, and if I had it would be no use for communicating with."

So curious. Crossover points, language, communication - all abstract concepts as the narrator completes his handwriting exercise. Is it truly possible to write meaningful sentences devoid of meaning? If he was only after an improvement in penmanship, why not repeat a word or two or three containing the most challenging letters to keep large and smooth? That's exactly what I would do if I wanted to concentrate exclusively on my handwriting without letting even a trace of meaning or content enter into my composing.

"My character obliges me, and enables me, to do things one way and not another. I approach tasks with a degree of Zen; as far as I'm concerned, things should be done when they're good and ready, and their readiness is something I need to feel coming from within myself."

I see the narrator's reflection above as supercharged with meaning. Does he feel, really feel, he's ready to concentrate on improving his handwriting when his mind continually pulls him away to think about what content he's writing? Will he abandon his penmanship project once he senses inspiration for a work of fiction flooding in, where the story might even 'tell itself' while using his pen and paper as the vehicle?

And can this whole writing exercise be likened to Oulipo's constrained writing techniques with such works as Georges Perec's novel, A Void, where Perec composed an entire 300-page saga without once using the letter 'e'? Can we liken the absence of meaning and content for Mario Levrero's narrator to Georges Perec's absence of that frisky vowel?

Any novel gives a reader an opportunity to watch the mind of the novelist at work. With Empty Words, watching Mario Levrero's mind at work is the main attraction - and what an attraction it is. Besides which, reading Empty Words is fun. 

7/3/2021

I reviewed two Christopher Buckley novels, Thanks You For Not Smoking and Wet Work.  I received gracious notes from Christopher on each one.  For Wet Work, he said, "That's the best review I ever received on the novel.  Bless you."

Here's my review of that smashing novel, a true, blue reflection on American society and the American character.  Or, should I say American characters!

WET WORK by Christopher Buckley

“What a country, America. A lunatic asylum, without enough attendants or tranquilizers.”

Wet Work - Christopher Buckley's international thriller about an American billionaire turned obsessive maniac. Where are the attendants and tranquilizers when they're needed most?

The author told an interviewer writing Wet Work was "the worst writing experience of my life. The words flowed like glue. I rewrote it five times. I don't know why it was so hard -- maybe because I don't read thrillers."

I suspect Christopher Buckley’s difficulty also arose from the fact that Wet Work is a novel of obsession. Recognizing the two master storytellers spinning tales of obsession, Ernesto Sabato and Tommaso Landolfi, were reclusive misanthropes spitting their venom as they wrote fiction at the opposite end of the literary spectrum from Mr. Buckley’s other novels, his difficulty is most understandable.

But I'm glad he persevered. Wet Work is a cracking good novel that continues to speak to us today.

The tale is framed thusly: superrich Charley Becker lost his wife to illness and his son to drunk driving. His heart now belongs to Natasha, his one and only grandchild. Charley doted on and hovered over Natasha all through her childhood, adolescence and early adulthood.

However, forever wishing to strike out on her own, Natasha chooses to live in a ramshackle apartment in a seedy Lower East Side neighborhood and pursues her acting career. Her latest role on stage proves a disaster - the city’s leading theater critic writes a scalding review of Natasha’s performance.

Poor Natasha; she's so, so upset. Director Tim comes over to her apartment, insists she improves her acting (she plays a cocaine addict) by experiencing firsthand what it’s like to be high on cocaine. Natasha initially refuses (she’s never taken drugs) but, for the sake of theater, snorts a line of South America’s finest. Within minutes, Natasha is dead.

Tim panics, leaves, and afterwards concocts an alibi, says he was at a nightclub with Ramírez at the time Natasha took cocaine. Tim forces Ramírez to go along with his alibi since that “Puerto Rican piece of shit” sold the cocaine to him in the first place.

Charley Becker’s grief runneth over. But not long thereafter, Charley’s anguish and sorrow transform into anger and a thirst for revenge. Charley knows many people throughout the government, military, and, in the case, police force, and when Charley finds out Tim’s alibi contains flaws and he and his team can piece together the truth, sayonara Tim. Likewise Ramirez and his Hispanic buddies who deal drugs.

But then Charley Becker goes further, much further, his inner heart of darkness takes over - revenge turns into unflinching obsession. Charley the billionaire intends to employ the full force of his wealth and connections to hunt out everyone along the cocaine trail, everyone he deems responsible for the tragic death of dear Natasha, everyone from street dealers and middlemen in New York and Miami right down to the growers, producers and ultimate drug lord in Peru, hunt them out and sentence them all, every single one, to on-the-spot execution.

What an adventure, one that takes Charley and crew, armed to the teeth on his yacht, up the Amazon. Incidentally, the novel's title refers to killing so close up the killer gets wet with the victim's blood. "I killed them close up, with my own forty-five," Charley tells a priest, "Close enough to get wet. Wet work, that's what they call it. It's an actual term."

So much action, so many killings. Here are several Wet Work callouts:

Backstory - We learn Charley was an orphan subject to physical and emotional abuse, an orphan raised by Catholic nuns in the Southwest. Each chapter offers another facet of the billionaire's background and character. In this way, Christopher Buckley presents a well-rounded protagonist, a crusty, callous gent, for sure.

Multiple Narratives - The story pops back and forth between Charley's chase and police and military chasing Charley, one Charley chaster being Senior Agent Frank Diatri of New York City Drug Enforcement. Go get 'em, Frank.

Familiar Names - Charley's hired hit-men are Bundy, Rostow and McNamara, names from the Nixon years. Also, that theater critic is E. Fremont-Carter, so close to Eliot Fremont-Smith, a one-time tough as nails leading New York Times book reviewer.

Sophomoric Sycophants - "This is Sensitive City, here, John. I don't think it's going to do us any good if, if, you know, here we are doing the war on drugs and cashiering out front-line soldiers." The dialogue of American officials is a hoot. Roger Ramjet cartoons, anyone?

Details, Details, Details - Turning the pages, we learn much about things like weapons, the military, cocaine production, art, government bureaucracy and various forms of life along the Amazon River.

Showdown - Face to face with Charley, drug lord El Niño talks with pride about his taking revenge on the US by flooding the world’s wealthiest and most powerful country with cocaine. “An amoeba that gives you diarrhea is nothing next to an alkaloid that makes people kill themselves and each other for it.” Sounds like highly educated El Niño has internalized Eduardo Galeano’s Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent. Seen through the lens of the many tragedies in the US wrought by cocaine coupled with mass exploitation, mass destruction and mass murder committed throughout all of Latin America, Wet Work makes for one grim, unnerving story.

Salsa Satire Seasoning - Keep in mind, we're talking humorist Christopher Buckley here. Through all the tracking and shootings, be prepared to laugh out loud on nearly every page. Here's a batch of samples to serve as a taste test:

“The ascots tied around the necks were wrong, somehow, like silk scarves on pit bulls.”

“I spoke to his ex-wife, the most recent one. He’s got four. She told me he’s a mercenary and he kills people and doesn’t report the income.”

“Suckled by a sow, now there’s man who’s starting from scratch.”

“And there’s, you know, a lot of people are going to be cheering him on. The Rich Man’s Bernhard Goetz.”

“Somewhere in the jungle they were wearing cashmere blazers and ascots and whatever else rich people wear. Bermuda shorts? That would be a sight, Diatri thought, natives sitting around the fire arguing over how to make a really dry martini.”

Takeaway Message - In his New York Times review back in 1990 when the novel was first published, Andrew L. Yarrow wrote, "Simply put, not enough is at stake. One wishes that Mr. Buckley had aimed more clearly at his true target, the recesses of venality and the corruption of the American soul." I completely disagree with Mr. Yarrow. Casting the spotlight on the cartoonish, bullheaded mindset of Americans along with an entire American society that has turned its back on the wisdom traditions, Greek philosophy comes immediately to mind, Wet Work hits the bullseye.
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*Note - The quote at the beginning of my review is taken from Christopher Buckley's novel, Boomsday

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I've included a string of my book reviews here over the last number of days since my writing book reviews is the pinnacle of my creative writing. Or, as Christopher Buckley might say, "A dedicated book reviewer just can't help himself." 

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Back in the 1980s I looked forward to reading Philadelphia book critic Carlin Romano.  One book review I particularly remember - Carlin's write up on Galactia 2.2 by Richard Powers.  I thought at the time - ah, if I only had the talent and opportunity to write such a perceptive, absolutely gorgeous book review!

Well, after a number of years writing book reviews myself, I posted my own review of the Powers novel as something of a tribute to Carlin Romano.  Here it is:


GALATEA 2.2 by Richard Powers

Galatea 2.2 is a brilliant novel by brainy Richard Powers that's an update on the classical Pygmalion tale of bringing a man-made work alive - in Ovid, a sculptor animates his beautiful female statue; in this novel, main character Richard Powers (modeled very much after the author himself) and his fellow researcher and cognitive neuroscience genius, a fifty-something gent by the name of Philip Lentz, design and instruct Helen, a neural net, to emulate human thought and speech.

Author Richard Powers is a seasoned veteran at writing long, erudite, intellectual novels - prior to Galatea 2.2 published in 1995, he counted four doorstop novels to his credit, most notably The Gold Bug Variations which interlaces the discovery of the chemistry behind DNA with Johann Sebastian Bach's Goldberg Variations played on harpsichord. And just for good measure, as an added conceptual layer, our author from America's Midwest throws in references to Edgar Allan Poe's tale, The Gold Bug. I bet Mary Higgins Clark or James Patterson never thought of writing such a novel.

Just in case you think Galatea 2.2 sounds like nothing but the heady stuff, let me quickly point out narrator Richard Powers (again, so much like the author) includes additional storylines: his recent breakup and past years with his flame, a gal he calls C.; his past relationship with his now dead father; friendship with his past mentor, Professor Taylor, who persuaded him back when he was an undergrad to switch from physics to literature; his current time at U (University of Illinois) where he deals not only with Lentz but also comes in contact with other academic types, two delightful youngish ladies in particular; and last but hardly least, the ongoing saga of his life as a novelist and lover of literature.

The opening pages set the stage: On the strength of having past affiliation with the university (undergrad, grad student, English instructor) and having published well received literary novels, Richard Powers, age thirty-five, is granted a year's appointment, official title "Visitor," at the massive Center for the Study of Advanced Sciences at U. (RP has this thing about calling people, cities and schools by their first initial). Richard takes up residence solo since he has had his breakup with C. and pedals on a second-hand bike to his office at the center where he spends hours and hours not writing his next novel (he's in a bit of a writing funk at the moment) but exploring that newest of technological marvels (it's early 1990s), the internet.

It isn't long before Richard rubs elbows with a group of researchers at the local watering hole and is asked to join computer wiz Philip Lenz who is challenged by his PhD buddies to develop a computer program in ten months capable of displaying reading comprehension enough to surpass your average human grad student on the English Department's Master's Comprehensive Exam. Not exactly brimming over with literary inspiration at the moment, Richard agrees to team up with Lentz.

Now the fun (or, at least, the high-grade thinking) begins both for Richard and for the reader since not only does exploring the domain where concepts, literacy and literature interface with computer technology provide Richard with a wide platform to delve into his background and understanding of such specialties as cognitive neuroscience, computer programing and language (both human and computer simulated), but he has ongoing interactions with wizmaster Lentz.

Ah, Philip Lentz. The ultimate bald, overweight, oddball, multiple PhD egghead nerd wearing his coke bottle glasses and spouting out platitudes and judgments on every conceivable field, from neurology, networks and computer engineering to linguistics, literature and music. Occasionally bordering on mellow but usually acerbic, sarcastic, cutting, stinging, sardonic, ironic or some combination of the above, by this reviewer's reckoning, in addition to Richard, Philip Lentz is the human star of this Galatea 2.2 show.

Here's Richard mulling over Lentz's radical brainchild: Connectionism: "The new field's heat generated its inevitable controversy. I sensed a defensive tone to many of Lentz's publications. Both the neural physiologists and the algorithmic formalists scoffed at connectionism. Granted, neural networks performed slick behaviors. But these were tricks, the opposition said. Novelties. Fancy pattern recognition. Simulacra without any legitimate, neurological analog. Whatever nets produced, it wasn't thought. No even close, talk not of the cigar."

The above quote also serves as an example of Richard Powers' brain power (both author and main character). And when Richard interacts with Helen, the synapses in the gray matter really start to fire off.

Oh, yes, Richard and Helen make quite the pair. We watch as Richard brings Helen to life at first as a computer program and then something either approaching or replicating a fully human mind, not to mention conscious awareness (I wouldn't want to say anything more specific so as to spoil).

Recall back there I listed several other storylines such as Richard's relationship with C., his father, his mentor and his being a novelist. The powerful, heartfelt emotions Richard experiences in these other non-technical dimensions of his past and present exert their influence on his dealing with Helen. And his speaking and listening to Helen (Lentz rigs the technology where Richard and only Richard can carry on 2001 Space Odyssey HAL-like conversations with Helen), in turn, play their part in Richard's sorting out his life, a feedback loop running from head to heart, from heart to head.

In the end, Galatea 2.2 is a deeply moving story, one where emotions and feelings meet thinking and reflection, mostly for Richard but also, curiously enough, for that oddest of oddballs, Philip Lentz. And a piece of good news: even for non-science, non-computer types such as myself, this Richard Powers novel is accessible, making for an enjoyable, compelling read. What an accomplishment from one super-smart author.

And Richard's numerous metaphors and turn of phrase sparkle, as per:

"I had nothing left in me but the autobiography I'd refused from the start even to think about. My life threatened to grow as useless as a three-month-old computer magazine."

"The maze performed as one immense, incalculable net. It only felt like countless smaller nets strung together because of differences in connection density. Like a condensing universe, it clustered into dense cores held together by sparser filaments - stars calling planets calling moons."

"We could eliminate death. That was the long-term idea. We might freeze the temperament of our choice. Suspend it painlessly above experience. Hold it forever at twenty-two."

"But I had never once put fingers to keys for anything but love. I had written a book about lost children because I had lost my own child and wanted it back. More than I wanted anything in life, except to write."

7/7/2021

Here's my review of  

The FLAME ALPHABET by Ben Marcus 

The Flame Alphabet - novel as wild SF. That's SF as in speculative fiction, as in science fiction, as in singularly freaky, as in supersonic futuristic.

On the first page, the tale's narrator, a middle-aged husband and father, a gent by the name of Sam, double-bolts his bedroom door, packs up sound abatement fabrics, anti-comprehension pills, child's radio retrofitted as toxicity screen and Dräger Aerotest breathing kit.

What's going on here? As we discover very quickly, mom and dad must protect themselves against the toxic words coming out of fourteen-year-old daughter Esther's mouth.

The Flame Alphabet quakes and jives at the impossible intersection of Philip K. Dick (dry humor, bizarre technologies, oddball twists), Cormac McCarthy (violent post-apocalypse), Thomas M. Disch (diabolic experiments in concentration camp), Thomas Ligotti (hyper weird horror) and Gary Lutz (exactitude of language).

But fear not as there's good news for fans of straightforward, linear narrative: The Flame Alphabet is a science fiction thriller from first page to last, a tale of ghastly global catastrophe brought about when language spoken by children suddenly becomes toxic for adults.

With its unifying plotline and articulate protagonist, The Flame Alphabet is much different than The Age of Wire and String, an earlier work by the author that features narrator as slightly confused recent arrival, an outsider cataloguing a remarkable stringy, wiry age in his own personal, jumbled language.

However, there are several important points of overlap - a prime example: in the prelude (Argument) of Wire and String, a philosopher by the name of Sernier demonstrates "the outer gaze alters the inner thing, that by looking at an object we destroy it with our desire, that for accurate vision to occur the thing must be trained to see itself, or otherwise perish in blindness, flawed."

Our Flame Alphabet narrator also references Sernier, this time as a philosopher of the deadly crisis who vehemently objects to personal stories and anecdotes replacing hard facts. And narrator Sam goes on to relate that according to Sernier, "as soon as we litter our insights with pronouns, they spoil. Ideas and people do not mix."

Thus, The Flame Alphabet is a more detailed report, an insider's account, from the age of wire and string. “This has led to a fatal toxicity.” - so proclaims the outsider in his Wire and String catalogue. How fatal; how toxic? Family man Sam gives us nearly 300 pages of an alphabet aflame.

Since we're talking intricately constructed thriller here, so as not to give away too much, I'll make an immediate shift from arc of plot to eight Flame hot spots:

LANGUAGE
Following formal announcement that the words of children are causing all the sickness in adults, Sam studies Esther's handwriting: "Each piece of the alphabet that she wrote looked like a fat molecule engorged on air, ready to burst. How so very dear."

It's that 'how so very dear' that lets us know Sam can still lace his personal tragedy with dry, black humor, as dry and as black as burnt toast. Although Sam never tells us his academic background or profession, it's obvious he's an expert in language - among other linguistic talents, he can write a Chinese script.

LOVING PARENTS
Major tension, especially in the longer first part of the novel: Sam and wife Claire become progressively sicker when in the presence of daughter Esther, yet, as Esther's parents, the last thing they want is to be separated from her; rather, Sam and Claire yearn to hug and support Esther in any way they can.

Like Sam, Ben Marcus is both husband and father. In an interview, he reflected: "There's that incredible loyalty you have as a parent. And it's a loyalty that to me is almost biological, which allows us to love our children unconditionally. I was interested in that conflict — the cause of your sickness is there in your home, but it's also the cause of your greatest love."

TO BE JEWISH
Sam and his family are Forest Jews. In this America of wire and string, such Jews possess a special, hidden hut out in the sticks. "The technology of the hut was a glowbug setup. The hut covered the hole and the hole was stuffed with wire. From our own hole came bright orange ropes of cabling, the whole mess of it reeking of sewage, of something dead beneath the earth." One of the kookier SF elements in the tale.

Ben Marcus told an interviewer: "I did a lot of research into Christian and Jewish mysticism, which is very much, in some sense, opposed to language, or it sees religious experience as being above or beyond language, Language can't reach that ineffable feeling we might have in a religious sense. So I wanted to wonder what we'd be like if we couldn't communicate with each other. Is it a desperately lonely experience, or is there something possibly religious to it?"

I suspect many readers will find this whole Jewish, Kabbalah mystical aspect of the novel a chaotic tumble, alternating between fascinating and utterly wire and string confusing.

PALMER ELDRITCH REDUX
As PKD had his Palmer Eldrich, so Ben Marcus has his redheaded Murphy/LeBov. Paranoid, power hungry, manipulative, cunning, calculating, sinister - Sam warns us about this larger than life creep with a foreshadowing zinger: "In the end our language is no match for what this man did."

INTERNAL LANGUAGE
Amid all the sickness, disease and death, Sam recognizes the irony of spoken and written language spreading mayhem since, ordinarily, it is the unspoken words, our own internal dialogue, that poison our human, all too human lives.

MARCUS SPARKLE
According to Gary Lutz, we can tell if a writer is intent on creating sentences that are themselves works of art by turning to any page of the writer's work and spotting such sentences. Here's one from a chapter opening:

"Claire and I traced our lethargy, the buzzing limbs and bodies that we dragged around like sacks, to a trip to the ocean, where we succumbed to illconsidered napping atop a crispy lattice of seaweed and sand gnats that left us helplessly scratching ourselves for days."

Gary Lutz alludes to an author's attention and use of stressed syllables, monosyllabic words, alliteration, assonance and ending with the forceful punch of a word of one-syllable - all qualities present here.

FAR OUT FLASH
Why, oh why is this happening? Sam and others recognize the language fever makes absolutely no logical sense. I find it curious that nobody either in the novel or reviewing the novel has offered the suggestion (after all, this is science fiction) that perhaps an alien invasion is under way. In other words, more subtle than Jack Finny's Body Snatchers or John Wyndham's Midwich Cuckoos, aliens have finally figured out how to effectively eliminate adult Earthlings.

FLAME ALPHABET
And what is the flame alphabet of The Flame Alphabet? A clear, definitive answer is provided - but you'll have to read this extraordinary novel to find out.

7/14/2021

I can almost hear a reader of this Cole Robinhood journal shout out: Alright already with the book reviews, share something personal!

Apologies, but I LOVE book reviews.  However, if you want something personal, here goes - as part of a book review!

TWO KINGS AND TWO LABYRINTHS by Jorge Luis Borges

If asked to suggest a one word key as a humble first step to unlock the worlds and mysteries of Jorge Luis Borges, my answer would be: labyrinths. Here are two Borges quotes:

“There is no need to build a labyrinth when the entire universe is one.”

“It only takes two facing mirrors to build a labyrinth.”

Many Borges tales have references, either direct or indirect, to labyrinths, my favorite, a one-pager entitled The Two Kings and the Two Labyrinths.

It gives me great joy to share my write-up -

SYNOPSIS
An ancient Babylonian king constructed an intricate, impenetrable labyrinth so complex, nobody with an ounce of sense dare enter. Indeed, so convoluted and twisted, so baffling and wondrous, his labyrinth was unseemly in the eyes of God.

The king of the Arabs pays a visit to court and, as a way to mock the simplicity of his guest, the Babylonian encourages the Arab to enter his labyrinth. Thus, the Arab king wanders for hours, bewildered and disgraced, until evening when he calls upon God’s help and finally locates the exit.

The Arab king says nothing but returns a second time to Babylon with an army and destroys the city and captures his former host. The Arab king takes the Babylonian king many miles out into the desert and, before abandoning the Babylonian, tells him as repayment for being treated to his convoluted Babylonian labyrinth, this is his Arabian labyrinth.

PATTERN
In an interview, Borges once said how the universe as labyrinth is really encouraging news since the very existence of a labyrinth implies the universe contains both pattern and structure; much more preferable than complete chaos.

Sidebar: The difference between labyrinth and maze: a labyrinth has only one path to follow, whereas a maze offers a number of paths to choose from. However, this is not a hard and fast rule since there are some labyrinths with multiple paths and some mazes with only one path.

UNIQUE NARRATOR
This short tale is read by a character in another of his stories – Ibn-Hakam al-Bokhari, Murdered in His Labyrinth.

Also, wise to keep in mind the image of a labyrinth, both Babylonian and Arab, when reading other Borges tales, for example, "The Aleph was probably two or three centimeters in diameter, but universal space was contained inside it, with no diminution in size,” or, “It is not as though the Zahir were made of glass, since one side is not superimposed upon the other – rather, it is as though the vision were itself spherical, with the Zahir rampant in the center.” Or, yet again, as in the story There Are More Things where a nephew investigates his uncle's monstrous house now belonging to an extraterrestrial being more Minotaur than man.

BABYLONIAN LABYRINTH
I myself envision the cubicles in a modern office building forming a convoluted labyrinth with a mean-spirited worker as the stand in for Minotaur. Of course, some of these labyrinths will have more than one Minotaur, while some others might be fortunate to have none - finding out the number is half the challenge. Also, the various reams of data that must be understood, assimilated and handled add more abstract dimensions to our office labyrinth, making it maze-like, with multiple choices and paths available.

MY FIRST DREAM
I can really empathize with the Babylonian king out in the middle of the desert since I had an extraordinarily vivid dream when in my early 20s. Here’s the dream: the mountains and ground and sky and sun along with my own body shake as if in a cataclysmic earthquake. The convulsions become so extreme the entire universe crumbles and comes to an end - all that remains is an infinite blackness and my own consciousness. I’m in a state of shock, having witnessed the end of the universe. I behold the infinite darkness and remain in this shocked state for many minutes, wondering what I should be thinking at this point. Then, gradually I felt my fingers (ah, fingers!) touching something soft – oh, yes, the sheets of my bed. Slowly, very slowly, I woke up. What a relief – the universe coming to an end was only a dream.

DIFFERENT TYPES OF LABYRINTHS
Of course, there is are critical differences:

(1) the Babylonian king in the desert remained a man in his body whereas in my dream I was bodiless;

(2) the desert is a specific landscape on our planet whereas the infinite blackness of my dream was, well, infinite and undifferentiated.

Sidebar: It was this vivid dream that in large measure motivated me to seek a meditation teacher and initiate a lifetime meditation practice.

MY SECOND DREAM
Several years ago I had a similar vivid dream, a dream where I died and all that remained was my consciousness and an infinite darkness. This time, however, since I had many years of meditation practice, I relaxed into the experience and felt restful, even blissful. These two encounters with infinity really brought home for me how when it comes to the desert labyrinth in its various manifestations, much of what we undergo is mind-created. I relay all this as a way of underscoring the truth of how Jorge Luis Borges judges literature.

BORGES ON LITERATURE AND LIFE
In an interview, Borges said, “Many people are apt to think of real life on the one side, that means toothache, headache, traveling and so on, and then you have on the other side, you have imaginary life and fancy and that means the arts. But I don’t think that that distinction holds water, I think that everything is a part of life.” I agree - the longer I live, the less weight I give to people who are “realists,” those folks who place hard facts above imagination, storytelling, poetry and the arts. For me, such realism bespeaks how one is trapped in a Babylonian labyrinth.

7/29/2021

I remember a snatch of a dream - I'm offer congratulations to a bearded man (I say "touché") since he made a profound comeback to a philosophic statement somebody made.  The bearded man walks away and smiles at me.  He's walking with another guy.

Perhaps this will be my first dream on the path of my own attempt at lucid dreaming.  

7/31/2021

Afternoon dream - watch as 5 people walk across a bridge single file - one short woman with ponytail smiles and shouts 'Hi!' 

8/1/2021

Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Jorges Luis Borges sitting side by side having an enjoyable exchange

I see a Black and White scene from a detective novel - men and women on the street, a few cars 

8/2/2021

Taking Colin and Adam to school.  Both are on a team/music team playing a different instrument.  The instrument somehow gets a sticky glue on it during a game and a tribesman says that's how their new instrument was invented; that's how a new game was invented.  The uniforms are yellow and white and look like soccer uniforms.  There is a coordination of car pick-up where I am going to take both Colin and Adam and Adam's friend to the next game.  I see it is a sunny day.  

Afternoon - dream treasure is under a cushion of a couch three guys are sitting on --- two 12-year-old boys climbing out of high barn window.

8/3/2021 

Watching a monologue --- watching a parade with competing participants 

Afternoon dream - recognize a man asking me a question as a dream sign (a man).  I become aware I am dreaming.  At this point I wake up.

Afternoon dream - I'm standing to the right in a line of men.  There's a line of men facing us.  The guy in the middle of the other line lobs a glowing ball (ball of enlightenment) - I leap out and grab the ball (and become lucid) - to stay in the dream I spin and hand the ball to my teammate in the middle since by so doing, all with become enlightened via the light.  I jump up 20 feet and grab onto a little 6" pole - since I know I'm dreaming I flip myself around this little magic pole - all can see I can do this since all is a dream ------ I see a woman made up with makeup.  I give her a dose of enlightenment.  She sheds her makeup and become attractive via her natural beauty 

8/4/2021

Mid-morning dream - Standing on small hill of blacktop ---------- a white wall where someone comes smashing through and lands on a white tarplin covering a rectangular hole ---- Terry's very oval face 

Afternoon dream - woman creating an elaborate, colorful flower arrangement on the bottom part of a stand in the shape of a Christmas tree.  This scene occurs in much detail for a good length of time.   

8/5/2021

In a castle/shopping mail with baskets full of various items to carry and clean. Detail in the contents of the baskets; detail in the person ordering the carrying -- whole sense is nasty and brutal

It is a all out war in hand to hand combat - nasty and brutal dream

I look through an open door at three women in scant dress  

8/6/2021

Woman talking on a small bandstand, some type of performance event with surfing on huge waves in the background. 

Afternoon dream - I see from far above a dozen or so boats in a circular pattern on a river. 

8/7/2021

Joanne comes out from around the corner and gives me a kiss

Afternoon dream - a happy dog moves in front of me and starts wagging its tale as it looks at me. 

8/8/2021

I watch as an Olympic athlete raises a torch/pole on fire. 

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Shift of Energy - After writing 2 or 3 book reviews every week for 9 years (that's 1,175 book reviews!), I plan to do a slow, careful read of 10 lengthy, substantial literary novels, reading about 5 pages a day.  This amounts to posting 3 or 4 reviews of these hefty novels every year.  My first book: The Literary Novel by Mario Levrero.  

8/11/2021

I look out a window in my old bedroom - I waiting for the next wave of events

I'm at the ocean and feeling all the sand on the beach on my feet, between my toes - I look out at the waves, huge waves rolling in, one after the other in an (unnatural) way - meaning I could take this weirdness as a sign that I'm in a dream and thus become lucid. This time I didn't become lucid; rather, I woke up after nearly eight hours of sold sleep.  

8/12/2021

A dream of where the concluding scene has me being chased by a fat man.  I'm not fearful; rather, it is like playing a game of tag.  I recall vaguely there were other parts of this dream but I didn't recall any of them specifically when I woke up.  This fat man could hardly qualify as a dream sign since there's nothing unusual about a chase (a frequent happening in anybody's dream) or a fat man.

What is holding my ability to dream lucidly back is the fact that I cherish a good, solid night's sleep, something to be cherished when one is older.  Dang! - I took a good night's sleep as a given when I was younger.  Anyway, I'm going to keep on trying, although I suspect I might have better luck reaching lucidity, at least at first, during my afternoon naps.

A piece of great news: I'm really, really enjoying reading a long novel - The Luminous Novel by Mario Levrero from Uruguay.  Also good news: I'm corresponding via Facebook with Mario's son Nicolas who currently lives in Buenos Aires.    

8/15/2021

No dream recall in past few days for a very good reason: I did oodles of exercises in the evenings and had a solid sleep these past few days, which is pure gold when you're older.  The worst thing to happen when you're old is an inability to get a good night's sleep and drag through the day.  -- Nope.  Not me, not at all, especially these past three days.

One thing I'm improving in - my endurance in loving to read a longer novel.  At the moment, not only The Luminous Novel by Mario Levrero but also other novels.

8/17/2021

Mountain Goats are able to soar through the air since they file their coat of hair in a certain way.  

I return a book to a librarian at the desk and she tells me the cost is $39.  I think to myself that amount is excessive! 

8/19/2021

I'm outside two bedrooms, one with Cody, one with Dylan.  They are both sleeping.  I tell an older woman that they need their rest and should not be woken up.

I'm woken up by a sound and feel my body filled with bliss.

8/20/2001

I sense a schedule of reading one substantial novel per month will work out well.  Of course, I'll be listening to audio books and occasionally reading and posting reviews for shorter works but the idea of immersing myself in the world of a novel, living and breathing within a work created by the imagination of a fine novelist will suit my 72-year-old mind and body.  

I LOVE Mario Levrero's The Luminous Novel.  This is my book for August.

For September, it will be Mac's Problem by Enrique Vila-Matas and October The Pets by Bragi Ólafsson, a novel recommended by my writer friend I exchange comments with on Facebook - Peter Cherches.  

Also up for September is The Unwanted Dead: The Shocking End of Zorba's Heretical Author by Yorgos Pratanos, an author I've been corresponding with and consider my spiritual and literary brother.  Such a cool guy. 

Beyond October, who knows?  I have several candidates, modern classics of world literature, but I'll hold off naming names here in late August.   

8/24/2021

Dream where Terry is sitting on my bed with a laptop.  I feel good about Terry doing this since she's happy and productive.  

8/26/2021

I took my time in composing a review for Mario Levrero's The Luminous Novel, tooling and editing the sentences over the course of more than two weeks.  When I finally posted my review, I had great feedback from Mario's son down in Buenos Aires and also the publisher, And Other Stories.  Here it is -

THE LUMINOUS NOVEL by Mario Levrero

When it comes to literature, Uruguay produces the weird ones - and Mario Levrero wrote some of the weirdest works of fiction in all of Latin America, the novel under review, The Luminous Novel, serves as case in point.

Similar to the novels by American poet Ben Lerner, Mario Levrero is all about voice.  It doesn't matter how seemingly trivial or mundane the subject, anything from playing games on the computer to observing the movement of ants in his garden, what makes The Luminous Novel shine is authorial voice. 

However, Mario Levrero's voice is not at all like Ben Lerner's poetic, quasi baroque voice.  Indeed, as translator Annie McDermott conveyed in an interview: "Levrero isn't pretentious; for Levrero, writing should be down to earth, not flowery or elaborate or anything resembling stuffy."   

Additionally, as per Annie: "Levrero is earnest, he tries hard to be understood but at the same time he's ironic, he recognizes the humor in attempting to communicate to others one's innermost feelings and perceptions."  It's this combination of earnestness and irony that makes The Luminous Novel such a compelling read, a comic novel Levrero himself described as "a monument to failure."   

A monument to failure - why would Levrero say such a thing?   Here's the skinny: back in the 1980s when  Levrero was in his 40s, he typed out the preliminary pages for what he envisioned eventually would become The Luminous Novel. Then in 2000, Levrero received a Guggenheim grant to complete his work.  But he couldn't do it.  Rather, he kept a journal documenting all the reasons and details why he couldn't do it.  The result is the book published in English for the first time by And Other Stories consisting of a 400 page Prologue: Diary of the Grant followed by 100 pages of Mario's original six chapters entitled The Luminous Novel.   

To share direct hits of Mario Levrero's highly distinctive, instantly recognizable authorial voice, take a gander at these quotes -  

"Absolutely zero interest in writing today.  I woke up already feeling a bit crooked, i.e. with that unsteadiness I'd forgotten about and which must therefore relate to my blood pressure, since it went away when I started taking the medication last month."

"And then I also talk about trivial things and it really is a way of relaxing.  Of course, afterwards I have to throw myself into some complicated program on the computer, because my mind flounders if it's not doing something complicated.  The mind is like a set of teeth that has to be chewing all the time."

"And the grant?  I imagine some impertinent reader, the sort there inevitably is, will be thinking: "Did they give this guy a load of cash just so he could play Golf (and Minesweeper - a new habit) and entertain himself with Visual Basic?  Outrageous.  And he calls it a "diary of the grant".'  Reader, relax.  It will take me a while to change my ways."

"On the other hand, the luminous moments, described in isolation, would be indistinguishable from a life-affirming article in Selections from Reader's Digest, and the thoughts that inevitably accompanied them would only make matters worse." 

"What I'm going to say next should be taken literally; it's not symbolic, it's not a way of saying something else, and it's not an attempt to be poetic. It's a fact, and anyone who doesn't believe me should please leave immediately and stop besmirching my text with their slippery gaze - and never, ever try reading one of my books again."  

"It's pointless.  I can't go on with this novel.  I woke up today in a terrible rage, eyes bloodshot, fingers trembling with the desire to rip the two copies and the original of the first chapter to shreds.  Not because I think what I've written so far is definitively and irredeemably awful, but because i feel certain I won't be able to continue..."

The above snips focus on Mario's writing and Mario's states of mind.  Actually, equally engaging are the many times Mario turns his attention outward, to his girlfriend Chi, to his writing students, to his shutters or refrigerator needing repair, to the books he's reading, mostly detective novels, to the activity of pigeons, to the movement of various types of ants, to oodles of other encounters.  For instance, here's Mario recounting a particular kind of wasp which is an expert spider-hunter:  

"These wasps paralyze their prey and then stab it with their rear stinger, injecting fertilized eggs into its body - while the spider is still alive and paralyzed - and then leave it there.  When the larvae hatch from the egg, they feed on the spider's body until it's completely destroyed in the most diabolical torture technique Nature has ever invented."  

With Levrero, all of existence is seen as a life and death struggle infused with spiritual significance, Eros and Thanatos in full bloom. 

As Adam Thirlwell noted in his incisive New York Times review: "The diary may be a museum of unfinished stories, but a story, this book shows, doesn’t need to be finished to have its own meanings — the largest of which may be that the transcendental experience Levrero is after has been visible all along, in this diary of everyday disaster."

Lastly, worth highlighting: my reading schedule changed radically as I initially intended to read about five pages a day over the course of months, but once I started, I fell completely and totally under the author's magic spell and entered something akin to a trance state, so much so I read The Luminous Novel hours at a time and finishing much sooner than I anticipated.  Levrero wasn't joking when he said a work of art should be a form of hypnosis.  The Luminous Novel qualifies as prime example.  

8/27/2021

Dream with Detail - I'm at a conference in midtown Manhattan.  I hop on a bus and travel uptown about ten blocks. When it is time to get off the bus, I have to pay in quartets but the quarters in my pocket are stuck as if in a silly putty - I pay the amount but it take a couple of minutes.  The streets and buildings are as if the city is semi-abandoned, like the poorest of commercial districts - everything is either boarded-up or metal gates close down the doors.  I become semi-lucid and fill the streets and buildings with shinning new constructions and magnificent wealth.  I have King Kong come down the street, speaking upper class English and being ultra-polite, a real tourist attraction.  Then I switch to have Osho drive his Rolls down the street with an army of orange-clad followers cheer him on.  Then I have another huge group of Tibetan monks swarm uptown.  An entire city of glitter and bliss! 

8/29/2021

I dream of four men in dialogue, the whole scene appearing as if on a movie screen and I'm in a theater watching.  I become lucid!  However, the moment I become lucid, the scene vanishes and a moment later I wake up.

It is almost as if my subconscious dreaming mind is resisting my becoming aware that I'm dreaming.  Perhaps on some level, my dream is resisting my lucidity.  So curious. 

9/1/2021

Dream with detail where I remember two bit: 1) a couple of women inform me they are devising a plan to be an effective counter to a force going against them; 2) George Heckert carries a suitcase down to a subway platform, happy his train finally arrived.

----------------

I've decided to shift from longer novels to shorter ones.  I just did finish The Pets by an Icelandic author and have another twenty lined up.  I'm giving myself an entire week or more to finish each novel, enough time to take in the full rasa of each book. 

9/2/2021

Dream with detail - I'm enjoying myself in this dream.  There's a parade and I'm doing an energized Glenn Russell version of the Irish Jig.  At another point in the parade down a street in Philadelphia, I soar ten feet up in the sky and do a twisting flip before I land.   

9/5/2021

Beginning back in 2008 when I had my thyroid surgery, I began listening to courses offered by The Great Courses and The Modern Scholar:

Philosopher's Toolkit

Introduction to Greek Philosophy 

Great Minds of the Eastern Intellectual Tradition

The Greco-Roman Moralists ** -  among my favorite

Why Evil Exists

Existentialism and the Meaning of Life

The Ethics of Aristotle

Philosophy of Mind

Philosophy of Religion

Philosophy in the Middle Ages

Philosophy, Religion and the Meaning of Life

Philosophy as a Guide to Living

Aesthetics (Book) - ** among my favorite 

Aristotle for Everybody (Book) 

Think Like a Stoic 

The Terror of History - ** among my favorites

Plato, Socrates and the Dialogues - ** among my favorites

Hinduism

Buddhism 

Religion in the Ancient Mediterranean World

Mystical Tradition - ** among my favorites

Philosophy of Religion

The Study of Religion

Lives of Great Christians

Comparative Religions

The Apocalypse 

History of Christianity in the Reformation - ** among my favorites

After the New Testament 

Lost Christianities - **** among my favorites

Early Christianity and the Experience of the Divine  

Mindfulness Meditation

The Medieval World 

The History of Ancient Rome

Early Middle Ages

High Middle Ages

Late Middle Ages

Crusades

Gnosticism 

Plato and Aristotle - Modern Scholar

Think Like a Philosopher - Modern Scholar

How to Read a Novel - Modern Scholar

Science Fiction - Modern Scholar 

The History of the City (Literature)

Leonardo Da Vinci - Great Courses Video Series

Topology - Great Courses Video Series

Ancient Mediterranean Cities - Great Courses Video Series  

Writing Great Sentences  - ** among my favorites

History During time of Columbus 

Philosophy of Consciousness 

How To Be an Epicurean (book) 

Epicureanism - Tim O'Keefe ***

9/8/2021

Dream of attempting to take trains and subways into New York - the feeling is one of modest frustration  

-----

I've taken a shift in my novel reading and reviewing, that is, I'm reading slowly and carefully, living though each and every novel.  The novel that prompted me to charge - The Luminous Novel by Mario Levrero.  Two others since then - The Pets by Bragi Ólafsson and Females by Wolfgang Hilbig.  I'll add to the list as I go along.  

9/9/2021

Peter Cherches recommended this novel to me.  Peter enjoyed my review so much, he posted it on his Facebook page and encouraged friends to read my review and the novel.  

THE PETS by Bragi Ólafsson

The Pets by Bragi Ólafsson - one of the oddest existential novels you'll ever encounter. Two authors, João Reis and Peter Cherches, let me know they love this novel. I can see why.

At his apartment in Reykjavík, Bragi Ólafsson told an interviewer: “With each book, I know less and less who’s doing the writing. There are always fragments of me in my characters, particularly my protagonists, but I’ve never gone so far as to look at a character and say: That’s me! Getting so entangled in their lives and inner lives sometimes makes me believe that I’m a more complex person than I actually am, but by now I can’t point at a single character and claim that it originated within me. I just don’t know any more.”

The Pets is a quirky novel most captivating. In the opening chapter main character Emil Halldorsson tells us he's just returned from his buying binge in London (he recently won the lottery) to his apartment in Reykjavík. He's informed by Tomas, his neighbor, that there was a man in an anorak pounding on his front door earlier in the day.

Who could it be? Emil thinks it might have been Sigurvin, an old work mate or Jaime, a friend from Chile. Anyway, Emil enters his apartment and reflects back on the details of his flight from London and then puts on a CD and leaves a message on linguist Armann Valur's answering machine informing him that he mistakenly picked up Armann's eyeglasses case when he was sitting next to him on the airplane.

Bragi Ólafsson builds suspense thusly: all the odd number chapters of Part One feature Emil recounting his travels from London, especially his meeting a young lady by the name of Greta he's been thinking about for the past fifteen years, a time when Greta emerged from a bedroom fling during a teenage party. The even number chapters chronicle the movements of the mysterious man in the anorak from the time he banged on Emil's door to his reappearance at Emil's apartment.

Part Two opens with Emil recognizing the mystery man in the anorak pounding on his front door yet again as none other than Havard Knutsson, the guy who joined him at a London flat five years ago with disastrous consequences (Havard killed the four animals Emil had responsibility for taking care of). Emil also knows Havard committed other acts of violence (against humans) and has spent the past five years in a Swedish mental institution.

Emil doesn't answer the door but Havard isn't about to go away - Emil watches as Havard climbs in through his kitchen window. Emil promptly scurries to his bedroom and hides under his bed.

And that's where Emil spends the rest of the novel - voyeuristically peeking out from under his bed, beneath overhanging sheets, watching Havard and then a string of others who enter his apartment, among their number: Armann, Greta, Sigurvin, Jaime.

What goes through Emil's mind now that he's a bona fide voyeur? I'll link my comments with Emil's ruminations:

"And at the same time I wonder why the hell one ever wants to get to know other people, or let them take advantage of oneself."

An individual's anxiety, dread, alienation along with an examination of their relationship and responsibility to others play a prominent role in existential literature and these themes are front and center in The Pets.

"I suddenly realize very clearly the ridiculous position I am in and carry on thinking about the problems that one creates for oneself by getting to know various people. One shouldn't let others into one's life."

Georges Simenon wrote dozens of his romans durs, that is, "hard" psychological novels that pushed his protagonist to the edge. In a number of ways, this Bragi Ólafsson tale reminds me of Simenon, however even Simenon didn't come up with anything near as farcical as having his main character's existential crisis occur when hiding under a bed! Bragi, you win the gold metal for originality.

"I still can't believe it. I tell myself that I may be having a nightmare. But just maybe. There is so little chance that it is impossible. In other words, it is reality. It is reality with a capital R; the most emphatic R I have ever experienced in reality."

Emphatic and intense - in this way, Emil shares much with narrator Ishmael from Herman Melville's Moby Dick. Many are the references, both direct and indirect, to Moby Dick in The Pets. As to how and why this is the case, you'll have to read for yourself.

"All at once I feel it is worthwhile huddling here under the bed - it's as if this pathetic confinement has suddenly acquired a purpose."

Ha! Perhaps there's a connection between Emil's voyeurism and the aesthetic distance one needs in order to better appreciate a work of art or drama. I frequently imagined Emil as a one-man audience watching live theater in his very own apartment. Or, perhaps I should say, as one reviewer noted, Emil observing animals in a zoo. Or, maybe a combination of both as in Desmond Morris's The Human Zoo.

"Is the eccentric up there playing with me?"

Emil makes occasional references to God, curious references, that might be lighthearted or somewhat serious. Thus, in a peculiar way, The Pets borders on religious existentialism in the spirit of Gabriel Marcel or Martin Buber. Am I joking? Pick up a copy and judge for yourself.

9/11/2021

An entire string of early morning dreams - thousands of birds in the sky.  Seeing quail close-up.  The water from an ocean overflows a street.  Vivid colors all round.  There was plenty of opportunities to recognize this could only happen in a dream and thus become lucid - but not this time. 

9/12/2021

Wild, wild dream with detail.  I'm attending a physical theater school where there are a number of classes, about 10 students in each class, all happening in a huge room.  All sorts of extreme forms of physical theater happening.  I have glimmers of lucidity but not to the point where I can hold it more than a moment at a time. 

-------

TOWARD YOU by Jim Krusoe 

You like weird, flaky storytelling that's even further out there then Barton Fink, Fargo and The Big Lebowski? Folks, I'm here to report Jim Krusoe out oddballs even The Coen Brothers.

Toward You takes its place as number three after Girl Factory and Erased in the author's trilogy about the relationship between this world and the next - and we're talking screwball doozy all the way.

"I'd been tinkering with the Communicator when I heard a short squeal of breaks outside my house and then a dull thud: the sound of a body being struck by a speeding car." So begins this tale set in a raunchy lower middle class neighborhood of St. Nils, small US city where half the men and women are unemployed and everyone spends their off hours eating, sleeping or watching TV.

Bob is the guy who hears the short squeal and dull thud. Bob opens his front door and witnesses the aftermath of the collision: the hit dog wobbles up his sidewalk and drops over dead. Bob reads the big brown dog's name on the oval nameplate of its thick leather collar: Bob.

Bob (the human) ponders what to do with Bob (the dog). Calling the city is out of the question on Thursday at five-thirty since city offices are now closed on Friday and with Columbus Day on Monday, the city wouldn't come by till at least Tuesday or even later. Dragging Bob the dead dog to his next door neighbor Farley's yard is also out - Farley works nights and he might be home looking out the window this very moment. Nope. Only one choice - drag Bob to his backyard and bury Bob under the anemic rosebush in need of fertilizer. "Bob would become the rosebush and the rosebush would become Bob."

After putting the finish touches on Bob's grave - making a grave marker by painting Bob over today's date over RIP in Old English lettering on a piece of scrap wood, Bob shares strokes of his backstory: an unsocial klutz in high school, flunked out of St. Niles Community College, enrolled in the Institute for Mind/Body Research where he 1) had a deeply emotional (for him) short-term relationship with fellow student Yvonne; and 2) began working on his Communicator so he could share messages back and forth with the dead. Saddened by Yvonne ending their relationship, he quit school and learned furniture upholstery, eventually starting his own business he named Bob's Upholstery. He continues to work on the Communicator in his spare time (no success yet but Bob senses he could have his first breakthrough).

And then it happens. The very next morning after burying the big brown dog, Bob's working on an antique chair when he hears someone knocking on his front door. Bob opens the door to see a woman and a young girl both with dark hair in pigtails, the woman's wearing a deerskin dress and moccasins and the girl in regular kid cloths and her arm wrapped in fresh gauze. Wouldn't you know it - the woman is none other than Yvonne and the girl, about age ten, is Dee Dee, her daughter.

Turns out, Yvonne is going door to door in her neighborhood (she lives a few blocks away) asking if anybody has seen a large dog that bit Dee Dee. More concerned with rekindling a romantic relationship than Dee Dee's health (possible contraction of rabies), Bob tells her 'no' but invites them in to share a cake he's baked. Hey, Bob! Why don't you tell the truth to possibly save a child's life? Nope. Bob is way too feckless and lonely to put Dee Dee ahead of himself.

Jim Krusoe frames his novel thusly where bizarre and weird lead to gobs more that's kooky, creepy, funky and freaky. Take a gander at a few clips that could be from the Toward You movie trailer -

Peeping Tom - Bob's feeling down, a real case of alienation from his true identity. To snap himself back into being his authentic self, Bob takes an evening walk. He comes upon Yvonne's house. One thing leads to another until Bob is up in a tree peering in at Yvonne brushing her teeth in the upstairs bathroom. Yvonne turns and stares out the window. Did she see him? Bob waits a few minutes before dropping down from the tree. Minutes later, wouldn't you know it - a policeman tells Bob, "We got a call about a prowler." Could be trouble, Bob.

Contacting the Dead - Bob constructs a homemade helmet out of egg cartons to better hear all those vibrations coming from the other side (the land of the afterlife). Bob starts hearing strange sounds. Are they the 'Terminal Waves' you're so keen to tap into, Bob? Still wearing his special helmet, Bob takes a stroll outside. Guess who spots him doing all this? Wouldn't you know it - the very same policeman. This could mean more trouble, Bob.

Voice from Beyond - "Does it surprise you that my best friend here is Bob? Well, Bob is my only friend." So speaks Dee Dee now that she's dead. And the Bob she's talking about is Bob the dog. By switching to Dee Dee from the beyond, Jim Krusoe adds more weirdness to his already bugged out tale.

I could add additional clips featuring that police officer, Dennis the psychopath (owner of Bob the dog) and next door neighbor Farley, but I'll stop here and say you'll have to read for yourself. Oh, if only the Coen Brothers would make a film of Toward You, it might be a box office smash, coining a new category - The Super Weird.

9/17/2021

Reading The Dreamed Part by Rodrigo Fresan.  Marvelous novel.  

9/19/2021

A crazy dream!  I'm working for a landscaper/architect of some sort and we're working at estate for Trump of all people.  Anyways, we workers are told that a German Shepard dog has to be shot.  And I'm the one who shoots the poor dog!  Talk about doing something in your dream that you would NEVER do in waking life.  My goodness.  Of course I felt guilty and sad about what I did.  In a way, I can be thankful for that!  I wouldn't want to feel good about it, for sure. 

My review of -

ICE by Vladimir Sorokin

Riveting. Absolutely riveting.

And this riveting, spellbinding novel comes in two different flavors. You get to choose which one might suit your taste.

Flavor number one is to read Bro before Ice. Flavor number two is reading Ice without having read Bro. Permit me to elaborate.

Bro is Volume #1 of Vladimir Sorokin’s Ice Trilogy. Bro is the first person account of how a young Russian by the name of Alexander Snegirey has his heart awakened by Primordial Light in 1928. As part of his awakening he is given the name of Bro and told he must find his Brothers and Sisters who have also been chosen to likewise have their hearts awakened. The novel takes readers on Bro’s breathtaking adventure up until 1950. Ice continues the thread of the story beginning in the year 2000. Thus Bro provides not only historic context for Ice but puts the reader in the know about those who come to have their hearts awakened.

I'm glad I read Bro prior to reading Ice since I generally like to follow a story chronologically. Added to this, I would make the world's worst detective - much better for me to know the basic facts of what's going on rather than being kept in the dark.

British critic Michael Froggatt disagrees. In his review for Strange Horizons Mr. Froggatt judges Ice the strongest novel in the trilogy and goes on to say how reading Bro lessens the mystery and suspense of Ice. He concludes by suggesting a reader who is interested in tackling Vladimir Sorokin's Ice Trilogy begin with Ice and work outwards.

Either way, Ice possesses an intensity, a surging drive right from the first pages. The narrative voice is detached, hard-edge, objective, as if a journalist recording the nitty-gritty of combat in a war zone. We encounter drug dealers, drug addicts, prostitutes, bottom of the barrel ruck and their coarse, crude, brutal, blunt way of speaking and dealing with one another – a novel not for the squeamish.

Many of the men and women are given a special call-out. Two examples: “Ilona: 17 years old, tall, thin, with a lively laughing face, leather pants, platform shoes, a white top.” - “Borenboim: 44 years old, medium height, thinning blonde hair, an intelligent face, blue eyes, thin glasses in gold frames, a dark green three-piece suit."

There’s mystery afoot, a stroke of Vladimir Sorokin infusion of radical myth mixed in with cosmic science fiction: these denizens of Moscow’s concrete canyons wonder what the hell is going on with the ice and all those primitive looking ice hammers. And the shift in their feelings. The contrast between the scummy day-to- day lives of these people and what they eventually feel in their hearts is quite striking: hard-as-nails drug kingpin Borenboim talking about his tender heart; likewise Nikolaeva the prostitute - very funny in an odd, offbeat way.

Two glimmers of refinement in this dank, cesspool world: Boremboim has a collection of Borges stories in his briefcase and Mozart is playing softly at a rehabilitation center. In Moscow 2000 overflowing with hard rock and liquor, gadgets, computer games and Hollywood posters, to know at least somebody appreciates Borges and Mozart is most refreshing.

Part Two switches to an old lady’s first person account retracing her childhood in a poor Russian village under Nazi occupation and her joining others villagers herded off to Germany to work in a factory. But then something remarkable happens. She’s singled out since she has blonde hair and blue eyes. What follows thereafter ties her to a strange brotherhood. Her worldview is forever transformed – from 1950 right up until 2000, the grueling, gritty details of her earthbound, everyday routine take a distant second to her true identity and mission.

One of the more stimulating dimensions of Ice is the way in which the story raises a number of philosophical issues. How bound are member of a particular religious cult or sect by their beliefs? Jim Jones and the mass suicides/mass murders in Jonestown, David Koresh and the Branch Davidians going up in flames in their compound in Waco, Marshall Applewhite leading Heaven’s Gate members in mass suicide - we need only think of these events to know that sects and cults can be closely linked to violence and death.

And considering the frequent instances of torture, imprisonment and murder throughout history perpetuated in the name of religion, how far are the major religions removed from sects and cults? Any time members view others through the lens of “us versus them” watch out. Brutality and viciousness of one stripe or the other usually isn’t far behind.

What are we to make of the fellowship in Ice? Those initiates speak of opening the heart but how open is their heart to those outside their fellowship? Referring to “ordinary” humans as meat machines unworthy of life has a frightening ring. And this reference to libraries; "Thousands of meat machines were always sitting there, engaged in silent madness: they attentively leafed through sheets of paper covered with letters." Sounds like a rant spouted by a semi-illiterate thug.

Witnessing the horrors of twentieth century totalitarian governments is hardly less disturbing. And how about the omnipresence of contemporary multinational corporations? Perhaps Vladimir Sorokin in his sly way is commenting on the dangers of all forms of power and coercion reducing individuals to hungry consumers or meat machines.

Even if Ice is the only novel within the trilogy one reads, it is well worth it. For fans of the author, both old and new, nothing short of all three volumes will do. 

9/20/2021

My review of -

THE INVENTED PART by Rodrigo Fresán

"Today's electrocuted readers, accustomed to reading quickly and briefly on small screens. And, yes, goodbye to all of them, at least for as long as this book lasts and might last. Unplug from external inputs to nourish yourselves exclusively on internal electricity."

The above quote is taken from the opening paragraph of this magnificent, exuberant 550-pager by Argentine author Rodrigo Fresán, a novel for lovers of books and reading, a novel about writing and writers and a plethora of other provocative topics for readers to linger over and luxuriate in.

As by way of a sampler, here's a few juicy bits from the first pages, the narrator, a writer, reflecting back to the time when he was The Boy in his boyhood:

"The same way he'd feel later on, holding any one of his many favorite novels. Eyes open wide, one of those books that, with time's rapid passing, time's running, charges you the entrance fee of learning everything all over again: a brand new game with rules and - you've been warned - a breathing all its own, a rhythm you have to absorb and follow if your goal is to climb up on the shore of the last page."

"And The Boy is already not all that rational and already thinks like one of those antique windup tin toys. Like his favorite toy."

"The Boy will learn how to neutralize and ignore the call of that abyss: opening a book, plunging inside, the freest of falls, closing the cover on reality, behind him now not in front and opening his eyes. And he'll always marvel at the fact that whenever he picks up a book for the first time - he's been told that the same thing happens to other people with firearms - he'll always be surprised by the fact that, no matter the number of pages and type of binding, he thought it'd be lighter or heavier, but never like this. And then it'll seem logical and narratively appropriate that each book feel unique and different and special."

"The laugh of someone who has come back from the dead and lived to tell the tale, to write it down, and then, alter it, improve it, add the invented part. The invented part that is not, not ever, the deceitful part, but the part that actually makes something that merely happened into something as it should have happened. Something (everything to come, the rest of his life, will spring from that there and then, from that exact moment) more authentic and valuable and pure than the simple and banal and often unsubtle and sloppy truth."

The Invented Part makes for a fun read - literary fiction that's actually highly enjoyable. But it doesn't stop there - to add a sweet icing to our reading pleasure, when we finish The Invented Part, we can look forward to two more books in the series: The Dreamed Part and soon (I hope) to be translated The Remembered Part, all published by Open Letter, translator par excellence Will Vanderhyden.

I must admit I face a dilemma as a reviewer sitting down to review The Invented Part. I could easily continue with author quotes. enough eminently quotable lines to go on for pages, but I'm obliged to make overarching observations about such things as what the book's about, the writing, the author's themes.

Here goes: we have The Boy becoming The Writer becoming The Lonely Man. There's also The Young Man and The Young Woman making a documentary about The Writer along with a tangent on The Writer's Mad Sister. The writing itself is nothing short of spectacular – James Joyce and Marcel Proust have nothing on Rodrigo Fresán. The novel covers the three most important themes of human existence: Eros and Thanatos and Grafi - love and death and writing.

Now the juice – juicy Invented Part quotes, a flock of fabulous Fresán. I'll sprinkle in my own brief commentary.

A Fresán definition: "liferary - a life made of books, a life made of lives. Yes: the library like an organism, alive and in constant expansion, surviving owners and users alike."

I think here of not only a public library or a university library but one's personal library. Can you envision your personal library as a living, pulsing organism made up of a phalanx of lives - all those authors, all those fictional characters, a bit like Hesse's Magic Theater, as many doors as you like.

"A library without precise limits, where you never find the book you are looking for, but always find the book you should be looking for."

I remember those times in libraries where I walked out with an unexpected treasure. One of life's beauties: the glorious experience of browsing many books on multiple shelves.

"He'd become a writer because it was the closest thing to being a reader."

I'd go even further: I switched from writing microfiction to writing book reviews since, for me, reviewing gets me even closer to reading books.

"To put it another way: it's one of those moments in which literature, the act itself of making literature, reveals things that life does not and will never be able to make sense of on its own."

I hear echoes from philosophers like Arthur Schopenhauer and John Dewey when they speak of the clarity afforded by the aesthetic experience. For a literary writer, the fresh air, the lucidity, the insights into all facets of life when they press further and further into their story.

"The problem is that literature takes a habit of mind that has disappeared."

The narrator is quoting Philip Roth here but he surrounds this quote with observing how reading a book on a screen always contains the lure of hopping around the internet, much different than sitting in solitude with a real book where you make a firm time commitment to read without interruption.

"On screens - big and small screens - where our lives are no longer projected because our lives, now, more all the time, are screens.
To be or not to be a screen, that is the question."

Ha! According to the narrator, we no longer project ourselves onto our personal internet profile; we ARE our internet profile. With a touch of black humor, one can hear the current generation proclaim: Who cares when my physical body gives out and I die? I will live on as my internet profile.

The Writer on the type of book he would like to write: "A book like one of Edward Hopper's clean and well-lit rooms, but with a Jackson Pollock waiting to come out of the closet."

The above is one of dozens of descriptions The Writer writes down about the book he would like to put in our hands - a book that will eventually make a deep impression on our hearts and minds.

"Writers are people who, inexactly, always prefer to look away, toward another part - the invented part."

Want a more exact reason why Rodrigo chose to title his novel The Invented Part? Read it to find out!

9/21/2021

My review of -

HOUSES by Borislav Pekić

 Imagine an American movie buff going into a deep sleep Rip Van Winkle-style in 1941 and finally waking up in 1968. The first thing on the agenda, of course, is a trip to the local movie house expecting a variation on the 1941 musical comedy You'll Never Get Rich featuring Fred Astaire and Rita Hayworth. So happens there’s a double feature: Bullett starring Steve McQueen and 2001: A Space Odyssey. Whoa! We can imagine the level of instant future shock.

Something along similar lines transpires in Houses, Serbian author Borislav Pekić’s 1970 novel about a kingpin Belgrade building owner, who, after having been knocked down, beaten up and traumatized during a riot in the city back in 1941, has sealed himself off in a high-rise apartment for twenty-seven years where he has been zeroing in on his beloved buildings through binoculars.

Oh, and there’s also the absence of news reports – since property mogul Arsénie Negovan’s heart and health could take a nosedive if he suffers further trauma, his wife, nurse and lawyer make sure he does not receive bulletins or news releases (usually bad news) about his properties, his city of Belgrade, his country or the world. In other words, Arsénie Negovan is completely uninformed of events between the Nazis having been forced out of Belgrade at the end of World War ll and the prevailing modern Communist government in the year 1968.

Then crisis hits: Arsénie overhears his wife and lawyer talking in whispers about the impending destruction of one of his apartment houses. What, his dear Simonida is to be torn down! (Mr. Negovan gives women’s names to his properties - Sophia, Eugénie, Christina, Emilia, Serafina, Agatha, Barbara, Daphne, Anastasia, Juliana, Theodora, Irina, Xenia, Eudoxia, Angelina - and looks lovingly on each one of them as an urban goddesses). Arsénie will not let it happen; he resorts to drastic measures. Unbeknownst to his wife and everyone else, he dips into his closet and puts on his very formal suit complete with tuxedo tails, his 1940s top hat, grabs his cane with a handle in the form of a silver greyhound's muzzle and hits the Belgrade 1968 streets – a seventy-seven year old man on a mission.

Arsénie Negovan cuts quite the figure – what the formally attired old man sees and hears, the reactions to his demands about his building (actually the building has been taken over by the state many years ago) makes for one of the more humorous bits of the novel. At one point the wife of his former building caretaker takes him to task: ““Get out of here, and tell those who sent you that the Martinovići have nothing more for you to confiscate. You can still get this!” She brandished her clenched fist. “Just look at him, all dressed up with a hat and a tie! Don’t you think I can tell a secret policeman when I see one?”” For the one and only Arsénie Negovan, prime builder of this very city, to be spoken to in such a manner. Outrageous! More than outrageous since never in his life has he ever been remotely associated with lowly organizations such as the police.

The entire novel consists of Arsénie Negovan’s written account of his own life and events stretching back to 1919, the year this man of houses witnessed another ugly riot with a mob carrying scythes, hammers, placards and red banners, this time in the Ukraine. Up there in his apartment, in self-imposed exile, his extensive notes, including a last will and testament, are written on the back of rent receipts and accounting forms. Quite the irony here since author Borislav Pekić was reduced to writing his novels on toilet paper while serving a five year prison term for his involvement in the Union of Democratic Youth in Yugoslavia.

As perhaps to be expected, at the heart of Arsénie's account is his very personal relationship with his houses. Not only does he bestow a feminine name to each but his houses are his very sense of identity. Indeed, in his case “the Possessor becomes the Possessed without losing any of the traditional function of Possession, and the Possessed becomes the Possessor, without in any way losing its characteristics of the Possessed.”

The more we read it becomes clear this is a tale of obsession. And with a tragicomic dimension in that Arsénie is blind to the way ownership of property is inextricably bound to the forces of politics and economics. Arsénie proclaims: “A man who builds houses or owns them cannot be party to a war. For him all wars are alien.” Yet again another instance of irony, since, as Barry Schwabsky points out in his Introduction to this New York Review Books edition: “Pekić considered Communism to be one of those delusions, yet from a Marxist viewpoint, his novel can be considered a study of bourgeois self-deception.”

Houses is an absorbing first-person narrative with many highly dramatic episodes. There’s the time Arsénie refuses to leave his window to go to the cellar when bombs are exploding all over Belgrade - his houses are in danger and through a sheer act of will he offers them courage by remaining at his post. Months later he’s elated and turns into a giddy little boy watching German tanks leave Belgrade, leaving his Agatha, Jillana, Christina and other houses in peace. Then again caught in another riot, this time in 1968, along the very same streets of that detestable 1941 riot. Arsénie words of passion: “They always demanded the same thing. They wanted my houses. They wanted them in March 1941 and They wanted them now in June of 1968!”

Widening the lens, Houses is a deeply penetrating insight into the clash of ideologies in those tumultuous mid-twentieth century years of Yugoslavian history, a novel with a special appeal for anyone interested in the fate of Eastern Europe. Borislav Pekić maintained an unflinching skepticism respecting notions of “progress” or “advancement” of “improvement” attained through the march of history. His perspective comes through loud and clear in Houses. Highly recommend. Special thanks to translator Bernard Johnson for rendering the Serbo-Croatian into a fluid, readable English. 

9/23/2021

Dream with detail - With Terry looking at shabby apartment houses by a bridge we're on.  We think the area is too dangerous - thus those apartments are not for us!

10/7/2021

Established a 30-minute daily meditation practice beginning last week listening to tambura in C#.   Peaceful, joyful experience.  


10/12/2021

I had two incredibly dreams with detail.  The setting and themes and feel of the dreams shared much in common.  What I recall is being in some type of arts workshops where the materials for the class were complex and I gathered much.  Somehow one of the leaders of a particular workshop wanted me to hand back the materials from his, but this was a complex undertaking.  The building was large with a number of workshops running concurrently.  All very, very confusing. --- The good news is I remembered my dreams, something that hasn't happened in some time, probably because my sleep has been deep since I've been doing tons of walking and exercise. 

Listening to Into to Tantra by Lama Yeshe.  Great insights into our dreamlike existence (emptiness and impermanence) and the crystal clear, pure clear light nature of our true being we can contact and experience first-hand which will lead to great joy and peace of mind. 

10/24/2021

Dream where I'm at a soccer game and right outside a house.  I'm holding a dog on a leash and at some point I interact with Dick Cushing. 

11/11/2021

Wild dream with detail.  I leave an exotic white car, Jaguar I think, in midtown Manhattan since I can't find the keys.  Take a bus to Jersey but realize I need to return that rental car so I ask a cop for info so I can get back to NYC.  He delays but finally gives me directions so I can get back.  I'm back but I still don't have the keys.  I woke up, what a relief! and reflected that we don't need thinking to free us from the dream we're trapped in; what we need is to wake up!

This for me underscores the goal of moksha - release - to free oneself from being trapped, from being deluded, from being unfree.  

11/25/2021

I'm making my way through the tales of American horror writer Thomas Ligotti.  So far I've read and reviewed nearly twenty with about twenty-five to go.  Here's a review of one of my favorites:

The Shadow at the Bottom of the World by Thomas Ligotti


“Before there occurred anything of a truly prodigious nature, the season had manifestly erupted with some feverish intent. This, at least, was how it appeared to us, whether we happened to live in town or somewhere outside its limits.”

Thomas Ligotti places his short-story, The Shadow at the Bottom of the World, under the heading The Voice of Our Name, most appropriate since, as in the above opening lines, the tale is told by a narrator speaking in first-person plural, that is, as “we” and “us” and “our.”

Personally, I'm put on my guard when anybody takes on the role of spokesperson for an organization or crowd. Call me a skeptic, but I sense some element of personal dignity is forfeited when an individual assumes the identity of a group.

I'm also alerted to something strange afoot when the narrator tells us “the season had manifestly erupted with some feverish intent” and immediately talks about a dark, abysmal presence in crisis or that something “perhaps had been secretly invoked by small shadowy voices calling out in the midst of our dreams.” He also speaks of a bitter scent in the air, the "hysteric brilliance” of trees and the “intemperate display” of flowers, shrubs and plants.

If this isn't enough, the narrator alludes to the stars in the night sky growing delirious and taking on "the tints of an earthly inflammation.” And, finally, there's that scarecrow in an open field, a field refusing to turn cold when the season turned from autumn into early winter.

Ah, that scarecrow. In addition to the lurid description of the natural world appearing to have gone on some weird acid trip, the tale's narrator expresses concern over a scarecrow seemingly caught between opposing forces – its head slumps as if in “a grotesque slumber” yet its arms extend as if in an “incredible gesture toward flight,” its head nods as if trapped in a bad dream as its overalls flap and flannel shirt flutters as if in a strong wind. But, gulp, there is no wind; all else in field and trees remains completely still.

Does all this bizarreness creep out the men and women who witness what has happened to their otherwise reliable, predictable world? You bet it does. But there's a glimmer of comprehension in the person of a Mr. Marble whose been making his own detailed observations, studying signs and uttering prophecies.

Sidebar: Some Thomas Ligotti irony on display here in his calling this man Mr. Marble, as in those common expressions - “losing one's marbles” and “scrambled marbles” since attributes of a tribal shaman frequently include crazy wisdom along with a deep connection to the Earth and an ability to journey to realms beyond the purely physical, qualities, as we come to learn, possessed in abundance by strange Mr. Marble.

Such an incredible tale probing the human psyche, the dynamics of groupthink and the very nature of reality. Here are several clips from what could be a Shadow at the Bottom highlight reel -

One – The narrator reports many individuals were nudged from their beds, called as witnesses to what he terms “an obscene spectacle.” The scarecrow appears to be a living creature (“appears” and “seems” are terms the narrator uses repeatedly, as if they're all being tricked into seeing what they see). Beholding the scarecrow, some claim it “actually raised its arms and its empty face to the sky, as though declaring itself to the heavens” while others saw “its legs kick wildly, like those of a man who is hanged.” Of course, what's so freaky about scarecrows is how similar they are to humans, adding a special sting to the night's “obscene spectacle.”

Two – The following day, they all revisit the field and the scarecrow. In his account, the narrator uses terms like pilgrim, augur, idol, avatar, revelation, congregation, terms closely associated with religion. The narrator reflects, “Our congregation was lost in fidgeting bemusement.” However, there is an exception: Mr. Marble “whose eyes...were gleaming with perceptions he could not offer us in any words we would understand.” Their inability to understand is predictable - after all, their worldview is probably a combination homespun pragmatism and fundamentalist Christianity. Anything outside their limited sphere of belief and comprehension would be far too removed from even the first step in appreciating and understanding what someone like Mr. Marble had to offer.

Three – Standing in that field, the narrator recounts there wasn't sufficient sunlight to “burn off the misty dreams of the past night.” He also observes “radiant leaves possessed some inner source of illumination or stood in contrast to some deeper shadow which they served to mask” and the group's impeded efforts to come to terms with their fears. Also, how “odd droning noises that filled the air could not be blamed on the legions of local cicadas but indeed rose up from under the ground.” Oh, how all of what's spoken here relates to tribal ritual and shamanism – dreams, shadows, masks and, of course, that continuous cicada-like droning noise we can liken to a didgeridoo, sacred instrument of the Australian Aboriginal peoples.

Four – When the farmer who owns the field tries to tear the scarecrow apart, he and everyone else are in for a shock: after the straw and rag clothes are discarded, rather than two crosswise planks as to be expected, there was something “black and twisted in the form of a man, something that seemed to come up from the earth.” The narrator describes the gruesome particulars and concludes with “All of this was supported by a thick, dark stalk which rose from the earth and reached into the effigy like a hand into a puppet.” Ligotti fans will be brought to attention by this last statement - puppets controlled by a malignant outside presence serving as a major theme for the author.

And what happens when they try to hack away and destroy that stalk rising from the earth? And what happens thereafter (I've only highlighted the opening scenes)? For Thomas Ligotti to tell.

The Shadow at the Bottom of the World prompts us to ask a number of philosophic questions. Will this community's worldview be shattered when nature appears to violate its own rules? Is anybody truly open to messages that might be contained in their dreams? What's with Mr. Marble and what will he do under these seemingly horrific circumstances? Are these people connected or disconnected to the Earth? Do these freakish happenings threaten a traditional Christian view of God? What, if anything, is nature herself trying to communicate to these men and woman? Might there be a kind of Zoroastrian dualism at play here?

The questions continue. Have a read yourself. I'm confident you'll come up with some humdingers on your own.

11/28/2021

Happy Morning!  Luicid Dream!  Actually an entire series of scenes where I became completely, totally lucid.  

First lucidity - I'm high up, say 40 floors up, on the balcony and I jump off, arms spread and soar over the ocean.   I think, "I must be lucid."  But I still stay in the dream and soar.  The scene switches and I'm with Bhagavan Das and others at a yoga and arts camp.  I walk down a path with others, realize I'm dreaming and jump fifty feet in the air.  I do this repeatedly.  At one point I sing those Twelfth Night lines beginning 'When I was a little boy with a hay ho the wind and the rain - somehow I know all the lines and I dance, bending my back back so far my head almost touches my waste - now that's flexible!  

11/29/2021

I wish I could report a second lucid monring dream but I cannot.  I even listened to some audio book on Dream Yoga last night.  But no, no lucidity this morning.

However, I do remember a good bit of the dream, the various scenes in a restaurant where Nick, the cook/waiter/check in guy took my roller with my publishing materials (in the dream I'm still working).  He refused to give it back to me, even when I returned a second time and offered him $20, even when I hunted him out in the backrooms of the restaurant among the lockers for the men and women like in a high school area.   My last face-to-face with Nick, offering him the $20 and I wake up!  I thought thank goodness it was only a dream!! 

12/3/2021

A dream where I hear someone say, "Walt!"  Now were they addressing me?  I think in the dream they must be talking about Walt Disney.  

1/16/2022

I'm rereading (and listening to audio) some novels that have meant a great deal to me.  So far: The Golden Age by Michal Ajvaz and The Affirmation by Christopher Priest. 

1/17/2022

Here's my review for -

THE GOLDEN AGE by Michal Ajvaz

 
 The Golden Age - Tale of an island along the Tropic of Cancer far out in the Atlantic Ocean, an island twelve miles wide and so perpetually high it makes Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds appear drab.

Novel as 329-page travelogue of the fantastic provided complements of a narrator/travel guide who now lives in Prague following a three year sojourn on this island that has no name, nameless since the islanders "did not like fixed names and changed their own with great frequency." If this sounds like the island inhabitants have completely flipped out, please read on as we're just touching the tippity top of a very strange iceberg - or, in this case, tropical island.

As the narrator points out, the houses in the upper town are built into a waterfall with nothing more than flowing water forming many of the exterior walls, however safety is not an issue as theft and murder are completely nonexistent on the island. “Although morality and humanensss meant nothing to the islanders, they were strangers too, to egoism, and they were too dreamy and lazy to do evil.”

Does this remind you of another land from classic literature? How about Odysseus and his crew in the land of the Lotus Eaters? But as the novel's narrator tells us directly, the islanders do not drink alcohol nor do they use drugs. Actually, the islanders enjoy one drug but this drug's description isn't provided until many pages later. Not for me to give too much away here.

European conquerors landed on the island years ago (picture a captain like Cortés, Pizarro or Ponce de León unloading cannons and other artillery) but, boy, were they in for a surprise. Their machines and equipment began acting in funny, unpredictable ways. From the narrator’s description, I can imagine cannons giggling and firing flowers instead of cannonballs. And even more profoundly, the foreigners “were alarmed to realize that they were beginning to look at the world through the eyes of the islanders.” Must be something in the air - on this island, your mind will soften to the point where you'll take in all of life as if you are one of the mild-mannered, passive islanders and immediately begin to like it. So much for conquest.

You may ask how the islanders spend their days. We’re told the islanders’ way of life consists of “nothing more than bathing lazily in their perfect, unvarnished sense of the absolute, in the sea of bliss composed of lights and murmurs before these degenerated into shapes and words.” Ah, to experience the world as primordial blissful light, as a “splendid, idle glow of the present.”

More specifically, the islanders possess an exceptional capacity for hearing sounds - the soft music of waterfalls in their upper town and the steady rippling of the sea in their lower town, sounds non-islanders could rarely perceive, subtle music that would hold their attention all day long, day after day. No surprisingly, the narrator observes this hyperperception for sounds has something in common with addiction to drugs.

Although not an islander himself, over time the sounds have their effect even on the narrator - he sometimes imagines an inverse world where concert halls are turned over to the sounds of rain and the rustlings of wind; meanwhile, synesthesia in action: the lines on plaster walls form readable texts while pages of books are written with random, indecipherable markings.

And what of sight and seeing? The narrator delves into great detail but one piece of his report stands out: for the islanders "shape and color had an intrinsic longing to create a glowing carpet." In other words, in a very real sense, the islanders are on an unending acid trip. Whoa, baby! No wonder the islanders live in the warmth and radiance of the present moment with little heed given to past or future.

And when the islanders want to trade with foreigners for food, clothing and other goods, there's no problem – an unending supply of precious stones can be mined with ease. All the islanders have to do is chip away at their section of mountain that's part of their home and presto, a cluster of extremely rare and valuable gems land at their feet.

All of the above is taken from the first 40 pages.  This to say I've just touched on several highlights that set the framework for author's unraveling tale. Much, much more will follow, including the islanders' prime art: the ongoing creation of what they call the Book - a hypertext with pockets to insert additional pages (among many other things), the one and only copy that's shared by all.

The author devotes a number of chapters to the Book. One key passage; "Owing to the extraordinary thinness of the paper, insertions could be made in the Book on many levels. Each series of insertions reached a different depth: I don't know which were the deepest because I didn't open all the Book's pockets (and I didn't reach the bottom of all those I did open). It was impossible to determine the number of levels of insertion by the thickness of the pocket: some of the more swollen pockets had only one or two levels, as the stories recounted in them were long. The deepest I ever reached into a pocket was the eleventh level - but I'm not saying that it went no further than this. As the case may be, the island's Book had more levels of insertion than the nine counted by Michel Foucault in Raymond Roussel's New Impressions of Africa."

Additionally, multiple chapters at the end of the novel focus on the rivalry between two feuding royal families. But enough highlight reel. With The Golden Age, Michael Ajvaz has written a work of extraordinary imagination and philosophical depth. Actually, I'll go further: by my modest judgement, the novel counts as one of the most explosive, most creative works I've come across. Thank you, Dalkey Press, and thank you, Andrew Oakland, for your clear English translation.

1/21/2022

I listened to Bodies Electric by Colin Harrison again - and at age 72 I can detect Jack Whitman's bullheadedness more clearly.  The guy is so oblivious to the levels of sutlety needed in dealing with people.  Being smart is one thing; being so sharp in some areas and a dullard in others makes for a deadly combination. 

*********************THE END**********************

CONTINUED UNDER 'DREAM JOURNAL OF COLE ROBINHOOD' 













 

 

 

 

 

 




 





 

 

 




 

 


  






 


   



       

 

  

 




 

 

 

 

 



 



 









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