Call Her My First Love, Fine By Me

Two girls worth exploring here in terms of Simons emerging manhood:

1. Diane Parker, she of the draws-dropping "field trips" (92).
2. Snug Harbor's Altalondine Jenkins Jenkins (133).

These two harbingers of our narrator's puberty--a puberty he's smart enough to know is coming but not mature enough to prepare properly for--sort of punctuate the B-story of Edisto, if you will, and adds to the coming of age story with its frankness. One's the backwoods girl who'll give you immediate answers, Two's the girl that makes those answers emotionally manifest, both of them pull an important curtain back on the mystery of the opposite sex Simons has become aware of.

Show you mine if you show me yours. Kissing underwater. Floating tits. Do kids even have to live these sorts of things anymore to learn about sex? Doesn't Google (and worse yet, 4chan) do all that heavy lifting for them?

The slow burn that was Simons complementing his very grown up adult mind with an increasingly adult body felt to me like a eulogy for the act of simultaneous sexual discovery. Maybe more like an Irish wake--it was fun to watch Simons smooth familiarity with the world betray him in this oh-so-important way.

As kids didn't we all "worry about round, wonderful girls [boys for Mags] with their edges ruined by life's little disasters, who remain solid and tough in their drive to feel good--to themselves and to you--and offer a vison of snug harbor" (137)? And wasn't the arriving at that motto half the fun?

The Paste of Life

"You try to put the world in simple terms when it's complicated" (47).

Who the hell is Simons kidding?

Edisto gets all sorts of things right--things I hope we discuss--but first and foremost this book is a celebration, a luxuriation of syntax. The way syllables form words and words turn into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into chapters and chapters into story and story into themes. Powell practically wallows in the possibilities of the English language.

I'm not sure how discuss-able the language of Edisto is, but I am sure I want to share my favorite passages:

• "And one of the ways to prolong pleasure is to not chop up time with syllables. [Dudes at the Baby Grand] go for something larger than words, but no essays" (9).
• "...I the homunculus..." (46).
• "...that he moved like a fish in cool water because I stocked the tank" (49).
• "TV and the law are both these large things that are technical and controlled by white people, so it nerved her out" (56).
• "I'd heard enough. The good old days were on a respirator. A boarding school and landed gentry snot-nose college prep buggers for Simons Manigault" (151).
  

The Boy Act

One of the ways Edisto skewers reader expectations, I think, is not just by affording an impossibly adult sophistication in such a young man, but by making Simons aware of his precociousness and able to switch it on and off with varying levels of success. Early on, page 17, he decides that "The Boy Act is the best thing when in doubt," and in subsequent encounters, he relies on it when he:

• sizes somebody up,
• gains more information on a situation,
• helps Taurus out.

But does it work? The Boy Act doesn't seem to fool anyone, really. Most of the adults just seem to appreciate the efforts Simons is putting into making them feel more in the company of a child than of a man-boy with perception beyond his years, but his efforts at The Boy Act seem to buttress awkward situations just enough.

So we juxtapose this way. Anybody notice any other such stark differences?

the Swan Thieves

Someone please go on NPR and listen to the interview with Elizabeth Kostovo that aired this morning discussing her new book, "The Swan Thieves." Preston Brooks couldn't have said it better.

New Book Time? New Book Time.

Edisto by Padgett Powell

1985.
Nominated for American Book Award (Best Debut).
Powell runs the MFA program at U of Florida.
192 pages.

"Southern" and "coming of age."
And "kinda experimental."

The Believer interviewed him one time.
Which is how I heard of him.
(I've not read this book.)

I begin discussions on February 1st.
Lost starts back up on the 2nd.
We discuss till the 10th.
Courtney announces the next book whenever she feels like.

Bring a dictionary, if the first few pages are any indication.

Walker Percy: "A novel that has drawn comparisons with the work of J. D. Salinger, Truman Capote, and Flannery OConnor, Edisto centers on one Simons Everson Manigault, a twelve-year-old possessed of a vocabulary and sophistication way beyond his years and a preadolescent bewilderment with the behavior of adults. These include his mother, who is known as the Duchess, and his enigmatic father-surrogate, Taurus. Imbued with a strong sense of place, an isolated strip of South Carolina coast called Edisto, Padgett Powell's novel is truly remarkable . . . both as a narrative and in its extraordinary use of language."

A Very Special Proposal

Happy Holidays Gentle Readers.

As we've passed the first 13 months of this very special book club, I have a proposal that might help the book club blog continue and develop. I think everyone should make of this book club what they want of it. We should think of it as a way to create situations to discuss books with people we normally wouldn't and challenge ourselves to read and experience new things. However, it should not be like homework. That's why I say for 2010 we both tighten things up and loosen things up at the same time. Here's the proposal:

At a regular interval (once a month or every five weeks, six weeks or whatever) a contributor announces a book club selection. Then, at some point after that, the same contributor posts a review/analysis of the book. This follow-up could be as detailed/vague, long/short, and timely as the contributor feels is appropriate or can make happen. After that, everyone can feel free to participate in the discussion or not, whenever he/she feels like it. Regardless (and this is important), a new book get's put into the reading list at regular intervals.

This, obviously, may lead to some overlap, but I don't really think that matters. Some books may elicit long responses and participation by a bunch of people, others may create only sparse discussions amongst a few. In the end, this will allow the everyone to participate as they'd like. However, the structure of such a convention will will help to create an online environment for anyone to come in and discuss what they like, when they like, at the pace that they like. Everything keeps happening, even if it's just new books being announced. Basically, no one is waiting on the book club, the book club is always waiting on you.

This most probably will lead to not everyone reading every book, myself included. I can live with that. I've discussed/developed versions of this idea with several participants and I think it could work. If you think so, just post your "I'm in, you crazy book reading Mofos!" as a comment here. Or, of course, sound off with any ideas or observations--most notably what pacing you think would work for the selections. I'm happy to create a "schedule" of when the selections should be posted if that helps.

Peace, y'all.

So you want to be a famous novelist

I don’t want to ruin a streak, so just as pretty much everyone who has chosen a book has said: “I loved this book!” I mean, really loved it. Since I finished reading it, I’ve evangelized it to everyone who mentions any of the following: books, reading, Barnes and Noble or awesomeness. Or pretty much to anyone who uses words, really. I probably could have finished it in just a few days, but I forced myself to dole it out in smaller pieces and took the better part of a week because I didn’t want it to end. (I’d be interested if anyone else did this, or if I was just being weird.) To me, the most powerful thing about the book was that since I finished it, it has made me very aware in the real world of the different clichés he used to make his own book popular. This does make me a more skeptical consumer of popular culture, which I won’t necessarily value-judge as good or bad. But in fairness, I’d also say that the good that came from reading this book is that it has encouraged me read more than I have in years (I’ve finished three books since I started this one).

I liked a lot about How I Became A Famous Novelist (or HIBAFN). I thought the book managed some sharp criticism, impressively covering all aspects of the writing business. It takes on everything from MFA programs, literary criticism, the business of the publishing industry, the sometimes-ridiculous nature of genre fiction, the editorial process, the mass-reading audience and even Hollywood and a few more that I’ve probably neglected to list here. Additionally, this is one of only a few books that had me laugh out loud while reading. (Yes, I LOLed.) I think the funniest parts of the book were the asides-- the excerpts from other books, the faux NYT best-seller list, the fake reviews of The Tornado Ashes Club and things like that. But like any good criticism, it was so funny because it was so true.

What I didn’t like about the book? Honestly, I didn’t like that Hely felt we needed to learn lessons by having Pete constantly doing the wrong thing. We’re set up from the beginning to see Pete as a kind of anti-hero, a slacker who is only self-interested, skating by doing the very minimum… but I really wanted him to succeed with his master plan. There were many times when I was like “Man, I would have kept it together if that was me.” Now granted, if Pete didn’t mess up all the good he created in the first half of the book, I suppose there wouldn’t have been a very interesting second half. But I kind of felt let down when Pete wasn’t awesome at Polly’s wedding, when he screwed up the Television interview and when he gets pwned at the literary debate. This is probably my own fault for identifying too closely with the main character, but I am also curious if others were looking for that atavistic pleasure of being the badass Pete thought he was going to be when he set out to write the novel.

I wanted to open this section up for general discussion about HIBAFN, or any of the questions above. Further discussion to follow.

Preston Brooks: Flaming A-Hole or no?

Personally, I disliked Preston Brooks as a character, and would have liked to see him get his comeuppance at some point. Even by the end of the book I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t just a bloviating windbag. However, the book sets him up as a sort of voice of truth. In his television interview, Preston Brooks says, “Writing is a cudgel I wield to chase away the brigands who would burn down the precious things of the human heart.” That moment makes Pete realize that Brooks, and very likely all novelists, are “con artists.” Is he right?

Fame? I, for one, want to live forever.

I thought the novel was also very incisive when talking about the nature of fame and mass popularity. Consider the following excerpt:

Anyone who’s paying attention in America can tell you it’s strange which things become famous and popular and why. I like to imagine that, around 800 B.C., somewhere in ancient Greece, a guy, let’s call him Linus, wrote an epic poem. It was pretty good, full of adventures and strange animals and sexy goddesses and five-armed monsters and all the stuff epic audiences go for. Linus started orating it, or whatever they used to do. But somehow, people just liked The Odyssey better. No one could explain why. Maybe a particular king or something insisted on the Homer version, and everybody went along. Maybe Homer got there first, or had a better orating voice, or ran a better marketing campaign. But 2800 years later, we’ve all heard of Homer and nobody’s heard of Linus.

You could argue that The Odyssey was the better work. More intelligent or poetic, or addressing universal themes – and that’s why it lasted. But I don’t think so. There’s not much evidence that fame and popularity follow any kind of logical pattern. And who can tell these days anyway? The whole thing’s more or less a crapshoot. For every Charles Dickens who catches a break, there’s probably some guy named Bartles Osbrook who was just as good but less lucky. In some alternate universe they gather and read Osbrook’s classic A Christmas Fable around the holidays.

After cracking the 23^rd spot on the NYT Best-seller List, Pete spends Christmas with his family. He says that he was “nervous that I’d be called upon to say witty things, but instead everyone assumed the regular things I said were witty.” What does this observation reveal about the nature of fame, or about the nature of family dinner table conversations? What do we think of Hely’s take on popularity?

Is it the message, or the messenger?

Things could have worked out differently for Pete if he had simply not revealed his literary insincerity. In some way, he is like a magician who reveals his secrets, a cardinal sin in that business. Do we think his primary error was admitting his motives, or did he commit a graver sin against Literature, with a capital L? Consider his statement at the bar with the MFA students: “I’d profaned the evening. These people treated stories like sacraments.” Should they be in general, or is it commentary on the literary bubble within these programs?

How to write a best-selling novel

Based on research conducted in bookstores and the NYT best-seller’s list, Pete Tarslaw devises a set of rules for how to write a best-selling novel. Among them:

• Abandon truth.

• Write a popular book. Do not waste energy making it a good book.

• Must include a murder.

• Must include a club, secrets/mysterious missions.

• Main character is miraculously liberated from a lousy job.

• Novel must have scenes on a highway.

• At dull points include descriptions of delicious meals.

Are there any common best-seller tropes that he left out? What can we add to the list? Also, how does this list of rules compare to the common “rules of fiction” widely taught in high schools and universities? If it were real, would we have chosen to read The Tornado Ashes Club in this book club?

What is “good” writing?

Late in the book we meet Professor Mintz, who believes that books should be judged not on their literary merits but based on their popularity. Instead of teaching Moby-Dick in class, his students read an 1880s novel about cannibals that he deems superior to Melville’s classic because it was more popular in its time. Is there an intellectual case to be made in support of Mintz’s literary approach, or is it absurd?

Editing in HIBAFN

The technology exists today for anyone to publish a book. Without an editor, however, a vanity press will still put out books like Moon People (first page link).

Within HIBAFN, Lucy engineers the sale of Pete’s book and becomes its editor and also manages to come out of the novel not only professionally successful, but “wise” (considering her choice of, and Pete’s reading of, Peking). At the same time, mega-successful author Pamela McLaughlin says “Editors are accountants with red pens.” What is Hely trying to tell us about editors/the editorial process, or is he merely highlighting the divide between authors and editors?

Bad Good Writing

I wanted to include one last section for anyone to write in some intentionally bad Good Writing, or good Bad Writing or any combination thereof. I’ll try and work on a paragraph of my own, but I thought it’d be fun to give people the opportunity, since it seemed like so much fun in the book.

How I Became A Famous Novelist, by Steve Hely

Hello again, friends. We've passed the first lap and here we are back at the beginning. After changing gears (behind the scenes) about nine times, I've finally settled on our next book which will officially kick off the second season of a very special book club (or AVSBC, as television without pity calls us). That book is How I Became A Famous Novelist by Steve Hely.

After some of the heavy reading we've had, I think of this book as a palate cleanser. More importantly, this is one of the few groups out there that I can trust to be literary enough to actually get this book and why it's funny. I think it can open up discussions of what makes "bad" writing... well, bad, and why so much bad writing is popular. So yes, it's a book about writing a book, which delves feet-first into meta territory, but having just sampled some snippets of it, I can tell you it is not only very funny but also very, very smart.

I don't want to give away too much, or ruin any of the jokes in the book (the fictional NYT Bestseller list is particularly hilarious) so I'll add a quick note from the publisher's site here...

"Narrated by an unlikely literary legend, How I Became a Famous Novelist pinballs from the postcollege slums of Boston to the fear-drenched halls of Manhattan’s publishing houses, from the gloomy purity of Montana’s foremost writing workshop to the hedonistic hotel bars of the Sunset Strip.

This is the horrifying, hilarious tale of how Pete Tarslaw’s “pile of garbage,” called The Tornado Ashes Club, became the most talked about, blogged about, read, admired, and reviled novel in America. It will change everything you think you know—about literature, appearance, truth, beauty, and those people out there, somewhere in America, who still care about books."

And I'd like to link to a real fake website for the fake book in the real book. It should give you a pretty good idea of what we're about to get into. (I highly recommend the fake interview with the main character). Additionally, here's an excerpt from the (fake) book The Tornado Ashes Club by the main character, Pete Tarslaw:

In strewn banners that lay like streamers from a longago parade the sun’s fading seraphim rays gleamed onto the hood of the old Ford and ribboned the steel with the meek orange of a June tomato straining at the vine. From the back seat, door open, her nimble fingers moved along the guitar like a weaver’s on a loom. Stitching a song. The cloth she made was a cry of aching American chords, dreamlike warbles built to travel miles of lonesome road. They faded into the twilight, and Silas leaned back on the asphalt, as if to watch them drift into the Arkansas mist.

Away from them, across the field of low-cut durum wheat, they saw Evangeline’s frame, outlined pale in shadow against the highway sky, as it trembled.That’s the way it is with a song, isn’t it? she said. The way it quivers in your heart. Quivers like the wing of a little bird.

In a story too. He spoke it softly in a voice that let her hear how close they were. That’s the way it is with a story. Turns your heart into a bird.

I made this choice because I think we're a group in America that still cares about books. (Hopefully I also found something that no one has read yet!) Discussion questions to follow in a few weeks. Let me know of any questions, concerns, etc.