Book #26 - Mary Ann in Autumn

When I was a first year in college, a friend hooked me up with the novel The Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin.  Set in the 70's in San Francisco, the novel reads in a flash, in part because it's so delicious, and in part because it was originally published as short weekly columns in the San Francsico Chronicle (so each chapter was a little bite-sized nugget of story with iconic characters in crazy situations). 

A whole bunch of us were hooked on the novels: passing them around like a candy dish, gasping over the more shocking turns of event, and then rereading the whole series again.  (In between games of Tetris and, oh yeah, actual school work.)

Then, in 2008, wonder of wonders, another novel in the series was introduced!  It was such a delight to get to check in with these beloved friends characters, from whom we hadn't heard in so long.

Now, in the age of Facebook, guess what?!  You can be a fan of awesome authors, including Armistead Maupin, on Facebook.  It's nice to be able to stalk follow these fantastic writers, and it comes with unexpected benefits like this:  One day, Armistead Maupin posted on his FB page that you could buy one of his novels right from him, and he would sign it for you!

And because of that, I learned that somehow, I had missed the publication of the newest novel in the Tales series:  Mary Ann in Autumn.  As with all of the others, it was warm, funny, and thoroughly enjoyable.

Tales devotees:  I will loan you my copy, but you have to promise to return it.  My friend Armistead sent it just for me.

Movie #8 - BRIDESMAIDS!!

I have been absolutely dying to see Bridesmaids for ages..since it came out, basically.  But we don't get to the movies much these days; I think we see 2-3 movies in the theatre per year.  We could say that it's because we have kids, but we get out to do other things (go out to supper with friends, go to live theatre or music shows, go for runs, etc.).  I think it's that I (I have to stop speaking for both of us!!) don't care enough about movies any more to make them a priority.

When I lived in Los Angeles, I went to the movies all the time.  I had friends who worked in The Industry, and I had a friend who managed a movie theatre; combined that meant that I could (despite my remarkably low income) see a lot of movies.  My friends and I started a "Film Forum," kind of like a book group for movies, where we'd get together to watch Important Movies and then discuss them.

I was working at a film production company when I first read the script of Saving Private Ryan, and it was the most amazing screenplay I had ever read.  (And by then, I had read scores, if not hundreds of screenplays.)  So I was quite excited when the film came out, especially given the amazing cast that had been pulled together for it.  I went to see the movie with a wonderful friend, but we arrived a little late, and it was opening weekend, and we were at a very popular theatre, and it was PACKED.  We couldn't find two seats together, and I ended up sitting in the very front row, sort of slumped down in my seat and cracking my neck to look up at the screen.

Have you ever seen the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan? Imagine seeing it that close, forty feet high, with state of the art surround sound.  It was the most intensely uncomfortable movie experience of my life.

This is all a long way of trying to explain how I rationalize my deep fondness for the genre of films I like to call "Dumb Guy Movies."   Dumb Guy Movies don't give you a headache when you watch them.  Dumb Guy Movies don't make you weep uncontrollably.  Dumb Guy Movies make you laugh, and often have a very sweet / heart-warming element.

BUT!  Dumb Guy Movies can also be super racist & sexist & inappropriate (while still being, to my juvenile mind, pretty freaking funny).

So how awesome that women are embracing, nay, entering the field of Dumb Guy Movies!  Bridesmaids fit the form (or is it a formula?  Or both?): friend conflict, wacky batch of friends to help you learn something good about yourself, huge number of jokes about bodily fluids, etc.

I didn't laugh my ass off at Bridesmaids, but I did like it.  And, to be honest, part of the reason I love the others in the genre is that they get better with rewatching.  So I will add Bridesmaids to the list of "Always Stop and Watch" when it's on (but only on cable).

Book #25 - The Tragedy of Arthur

My aunt and uncle (which really means "my dad's cousin and her husband" and has no direct translation in English) are avid readers and awesome book buyers.  They're the ones who gave me The People of the Book, which I read earlier this year (and very much enjoyed).  For my FORTIETH (ahem) birthday this year, they gave me Arthur Phillips newest, The Tragedy of Arthur.

The premise of the book is that Arthur Phillips (the author, and a novelist of some repute) is in a bit of a crisis.  His father, a notorious and convicted con-man, has handed him a previously undiscovered Shakespeare play about Arthur, King of the Britons.

And now, I'm at a point I imagine reviewers / bloggers / opinionaters of all stripes encounter:  do you reveal significant plot points so that you can discuss the meat of it?  Or do you keep them mum, only saying "yay!' or "NAY!" so that you are only serving as a crossroads?

I am going to assume that most of my readers -- all 3 of you -- are either more well-read than I (meaning you've already read this) or are more sophisticated readers (meaning that you can read something for the enjoyment of it, regardless of plot points).  So I'm going to go into my reaction more specifically, at risk of ruining some surprises.  [your chance to opt out, if you're dying to maintain the surprise of this novel!]

On purpose, when I was reading this book (okay, I'll say it, this NOVEL!), I didn't do any google or wikipedia research. It's written very autobiographically, as though A.P. has a twin sister, and a con-artist dad, and a discontented wife in Prague, etc. etc.  And I didn't want to know truth from fiction.

For most of it.

The last 1/6 of the book is the text of the "Shakespeare" play, The Tragedy of Arthur.  And suddenly, I didn't care if it was real or imagined or fabricated or discovered. I just knew I didn't want to read it.  Man, I tried.  I really did.  But after about 10ish pages of Shakespearish language, I knew I had to set it aside if I ever had any hope of moving on to the next book.

Perhaps this is evidence that the play "discovered" by Phillip's father is genuinely Shakespeare!  I think it's just bolstering the case that I'm something of a Philistine.

Book #24 - Stone Arabia

My wonderful and eclectic book group selected Dana Spiotta's novel, Stone Arabia to read this month.  It drew comparisons to an earlier book we read, A Visit from the Goon Squad, and it reminded me of Jonathan Lethem's novels The Fortress of Solitude and You Don't Love Me Yet.  Contemporary Rock Novels -- is this a new genre?  Has music changed and shaped our dialogue and experience so much that now that it's its own thing?

The thing about rock shaping literature is this:  I don't know enough about music to ever be the right kind of reader for these novels.  I know what I like in music, but what I like is purely aesthetic, and doesn't have to do with (necessarily) excellence, genius, innovation, etc.  I feel the same way about food, sometimes.  I read what people write about food, and I really think that their senses are more well developed than mine.  I know if I think something is yummy or yucky, and it's not often I can get a whole lot more descriptive than that.

But does that matter?  Do you have to really understand a subject to appreciate it in a novel?  Are we -- the less sophisticated, less nuanced, less knowledgeable readers doomed to diminished enjoyment?  If an author writing on the intricacies of early-80's American/British rock can inspire emotional response in me, does it matter if I only understand the broad strokes ("Hey!  She said David Bowie!  I know him!") and not the subtleties ("Wait, is that band real or fictional?")?

For the moment, I will continue appreciating what I learn about music from novels, and enjoy the oblivion of never really knowing what's real or not.