Sedaris v.s. MacLean

David Sedaris' "SantaLand Diaries" and Stuart McLean's "Polly Anderson's Christmas Party" are perfect examples of two different styles of comedic writing. The fundamental differences between the two pieces lie in what is said, and how it is said.
Sedaris' humour comes from his descriptions. He makes his readers laugh by describing events and details in a very straight forward, matter of fact way. For example, "I tend to avoid leaflets, but it breaks my heart to see a grown man dressed as a taco." For whatever reason, just saying things as they are is funny. And Sedaris is good at that.
There are funny things that happen to him as well, such as being told "Congratulations, Mr. Sedaris. You are an elf." Of course, many of the things that happen to him in SantaLand are quite surreal, and therefore prime comedic material, but it's Sedaris' ability to describe details humourously that makes him a right cracker of a comedian.
McLean's humour, on the other hand, comes from the events in his stories. Usually, everything goes stupendously wrong from the very start for his protagonists. For example, Dave in "Polly Anderson's Christmas Party" starts the story off by receiving his drivers license renewed, but there's a hitch, of course: it says he needs to wear glasses, however he's never worn them in his life. That sets the stage for the Christmas party to spiral out of control. It finishes with Dave being pulled over while driving Bernie Schellenberger and his baby around in order to put the baby to sleep. Dave, however, obviously doesn't have his glasses, but he does have his drunk, bloodied, mono-shoed, and coatless son in the back, who proceeds to give the cop a hard time.
McLean's descriptions are far less direct, even bordering on poetic at times. For example, this funny section of poetic language uses a long metaphor, and appears towards the beginning of the story: "The star in his stomach was burning brightly now. Ahh, thought Dave, I know the name of the galaxy. It's the galaxy of bureaucratic misfortune - an abyss of swamps and labyrinths, a horror house of tunnels and mazes."
In short, McLean's humour comes from what is said, and Sedaris' humour comes from how it's said. Both, however, are absolutely hilarious, and thoroughly enjoyable to read.

Acts of Faith

The issue of Faith v.s. Science is a perennial cringe-topic in almost every forum, but it gets the nervous looks flying fastest when it is raised with relation to medical care. People just don't want to talk about it. Mary Rogan, however, fears not the sensitive issues.
Her article tells the story of the Dueck family of Martensville, Saskatchewan. 13 year-old Tyrell Dueck and his parents, Tim and Yvonne, were referred to the Cancer Centre at the Royal University Hospital in Saskatoon by their family docor, who felt that Tyrell may have cancer. Upon receiving the news, rather than do what any normal parents would do - rush their child into hospital for an immediate diagnoses - Tim and Yvonne spent weeks researching alternative treatments, without even knowing for sure whether or not Tyrell had cancer. It was not until the Cancer Centre at the Royal University Hospital in Saskatoon called and asked them to bring their son in that they did so.
Tyrell Duecks was then diagnosed with osteogenic sarcoma, a fatal and fast growing form of bone cancer.
After this diagnoses, things went downhill. His parents refused to let him have chemotherapy, partly because of chemotherapy's side-effects and the required amputation, and partly because of their religion. This resulted in a court case that gave the Provincial government guardianship over Tyrell, solely for the purpose of medical consent. Tyrell then spoke up, saying that he didn't want the treatment - more court cases, media coverage, and inaction with regards to Tyrell's medical condition ensued.
By the time it was all over, the doctors said that Tyrell's cancer had spread. His parents were now free to do what they wanted. They chose American Biologics, an alternative care facility in Tijuana, Mexico, that provides treatment that is illegal in the US and Canada.
Upon Tyrell's return to Canada the following year, his parents made it public that his condition had improved. He subsequently died on June 30th, 1999, at the age of 13.
In my opinion, if somebody refuses medical treatment for themselves, that's there choice. However, if they refuse medical treatment for minors in their custody, that is unaccetpable. This article, along with other cases, gives substantial evidence against the effectiveness of alternative treatments, and anyone who refuses a child the proven medical treatments available to them, for whatever reason, does not deserve to have custody of that child. End of story.

Alaskans Speak in a Frightened Whisper ... no freakin' wonder!

Charley James' article, which exposes Alaskan Governor and Republican Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin as The Wicked Witch of the North, came not as a surprise but rather a confirmation of popular belief. It makes sense that the woman who so spectacularly stupified Katie Couric and her viewers actually believed in what she was spewing. However, that only makes it more pathetic - and scary. How can she have come this far in life, let alone politics, if she holds racist beliefs on top of being unable to answer a question? What kind of voter would support a candidate like that? And perhaps more frequently asked, what kind of candidate would choose a running-mate with those beliefs and a lack of knowledge and common sense?
James' article in the Los Angeles Progressive effectively conveys to the reader the Third-Reich-esque beliefs that came so close to being the dominate views in the Oval Office. His opening quotation is perhaps the most poignant: "So Sambo beat the bitch!" she exclaimed to colleagues, in public, after Obama's victory over Hilary Clinton in the race for Democratic Party presidential nominee. She seems to be a master at offending racial and gender groups two at a time. Blacks and Women with her Sambo/Bitch remark. Arabs and the Inuit with her frequent referral to the Alaskan aboriginal group as "Arctic Arabs".
All that's "the tip of the iceberg" James' says in his article. Attempted book burnings, harassment of city officials during her reign as mayor, hugely irresponsible spending, and just general stupidity have plagued every office Palin has ever held, as a direct result of her being there.
Quite frankly, the fact that she had a loyal following among Republicans is frightening. That means that there's a percentage of people in the US that think it's ok to name your kid Trig. That alone is scary. Fortunately, cooler, more intelligent heads prevailed, and she has been stripped of any hope of a political career. Let's hope Republicans don't get the idea in their heads that she'd be a good candidate in four years time. If she doesn't realize that Saturday Night Live is making a joke out of her, and the whole world is laughing, how do they think she'll do when she has to deal with the global economic crisis? Perhaps if she laughs it off and appears on CNN Marketwatch a few times, the whole problem will go away. Not likely.
All I can say is thank God for keeping us away from that disaster.

Obama v.s. McCain - Oratorial Prowess

On Tuesday, November 4th, 2008, the two dominant figures in American and international politics over the past eighteen months each made speeches accepting their fates as decided by the American electorate. Republican presidential candidate John McCain made his concession speech to a crowd of upset supporters in his home state of Arizona, while the new President-Elect, Barack Obama, made his monumental acceptance speech to a titanic and emotional crowd in Chicago. Although both speeches were superbly crafted, Obama's will likely trancsend the ranks of average political performances, and land a place in the Oratorial Hall of Fame.
There were some similarities between the two men's speeches. For example, both made reference to historical events, especially pertaining to the struggle of African-Americans over the past century. McCain cited the example of Booker T. Washington, the first African-American to be invited to the White House, while Obama chose to mention 106 year old Ann Nixon Cooper. Obama also made several other more poetic and subtle historical references throughout his speech, such as his use of "calloused hands".
The structure of the speeches was also similar, despite being of different lengths. Both included historical references, brief comments on the campaign, discussion of the future, time for thank-you's, and mention of speaking with the other candidate after learning of the result.
There were also some differences between the speeches, apart from the obvious fact that Obama's speech was in acceptance of the presidency, and McCain's was not. Both speeches included time for thank-you's to family, friends and campaign personel, however, Obama took a minimal amount of time for that portion of his speech, choosing to deal with other issues, mainly the road that now lies ahead of him, and ahead of America.
McCain left more time for thank-you's, and even branched off, briefly talking about the role of families and friends in the campaign.
In the end, both were excellently crafted speeches, and delivered powerful messages to their intended audiences. Whether or not the audiences listen is another matter entirely.

Narrative Drive

Part of a writer's job is to drive the narrative of his story through to the end, keeping the readers interested all the while. Authors J.D. Salinger and Russell Smith are both incredibley effective at this.

In Smith's short story "Home", the drive is initiated in the first sentence, "What you have to do is escape your family." Immediately, this makes the reader curious as to what this story is about. Is it about growing up? Leaving home? Dealing with parental issues?
The answer is revealed gradually throughout the rest of his story. It becomes apparent that the main character ("you", in this case, as this story is written, unusually, in the second person) is visiting home after being away at university. The story details the subdued chaos of a familiar bar on a friday night in the holiday season.
A female character is introduced, whom "you" find attractive. She makes two or three appearances throughout the night, adding depth and forward motion to the plot, making us want to know if "you" will make a move, although suspecting that "you" won't.
In between the scenes with this girl, the narrative is driven forward by old friends catching up on each others lives. We find out a little bit about other characters throughout the night, as well as about the bar the story takes place in, which keeps us interested.
After the bar-fight climax, "you" make a connection with the choker-art-college girl, smiling at each other across the street. This brings closure to the girl's part of the narrative, as well as the story, which is supposed to seem warm and familiar to us.

J.D. Salinger's "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" takes on a darker mood. It describes the last vacation of Seymour and Muriel, a young couple whose relationship has been unfortunately altered by Seymour's post traumatic stress syndrome after his war time experience.
The narrative is set rolling by the many references in Muriel's conversation with her mother, to Seymour's odd behaviour. Something about driving and trees, and something about what Seymour tried to do with granny's chair are mentioned to peak the readers curiousity in the mental health of Seymour's character. Those vague reference give us something to grab on to and want to know more about, so we keep reading.
In the second section, we are kept wondering what exactly is going on by the seemingly normal behaviour which Seymour exhibits while around Sybil. Only towards the end of this section does he become increasingly creepy, kissing Sybil's feet, and making her jealous, talking about another child. The narrative is driven forward as the reader wonders whether or not Seymour will make a giant faux pas with Sybil, or whether he will be normal. The foot kissing incident seals the deal.
In the third section, Seymour shows his true "shell shocked" colours, giving a woman in the elevator a hard time for looking at his feet. Readers are yet again thrown a curve ball by this sudden reversal in his behaviour. We now know that he is very mentally unstable, and are curious to see what his next move will be. Knowing that he has overstepped the boundary with Sybil, and with a reduced sense of judegment, he gets a gun out of his bag, walks over to his wife on the bed, and kills himself. The act of walking to his wife's bed makes it seem at first as if he will kill her, perhaps then abducting Sybil, but in the last line of the story, it is revealed that Seymour deals himself the fatal shot instead.

Why Crime Fiction Is Good For You

In Ian Rankin's piece "Why Crime Fiction Is Good Ior You", he outlines a number of important points to consider when writing or reading crime fiction. Most importantly, he states that the main ingredients of crime fiction are violence, sudden reversals, mystery, deception, and moral dilemma, among others. He also makes clear that crime fiction is not meant to be real life. For example, Ranking claims that crime fiction death "never happens without a reason and the causes of death never goes unpunished," whereas with real life death, "we never know what killed off our happiness". He also says that crime fiction is the perfect tool for the dissection of society, allowing writers to tackle darker issues, such as corruption, exploitation, child abuse, violence, murder, jealousy, and revenge. "It enters into dangerous territory ... and so stirs up emotional responses we might not otherwise feel." Rankin believes that the true spirit of the crime novel, whether or not the reader realizes it, is anarchic, and fits the definition of satire as well.
Relating what Rankin has just said about crime writing to some of his own works, we find that he most definitely adheres to his own principles. In his short story, "The Hanged Man", Rankin includes multiple sudden reversals, as well as mystery, deception, moral dilemma, and violence.
The violence comes in the protagonists description of his past murders, rather than an account of the on he has just been sent to carry out.
The first sudden reversal occurs when Mort gives up control of the conversation with Gypsy Rosa. She then has some power over him. Another come when Mort finds out Gypsy Rosa is his mother. Not only does it reverse his feelings towards her, but it reverses his feelings towards his father/boss. Mort says "I'll kill him," meaning that he'll kill the opposite person than he was supposed to.
Mystery is brought into the story in a number of ways. We never get to know the protagonists real name, as well as the relationship he has with his father and recently-discovered mother. We don't learn much about the father either, apart from the fact that he is someone everybody fears, and that he raped Mort's mother. It is kept from us that Mort is actually Gypsy Rosa's son, right till the end.
Mort's father deceived him by trying to trick him into killing his mother, but the plan backfired. Now Mort is facing a moral dilemma, as to whether or not kill his mother and/or his father. He was tasked to kill his mother, but the "tasker" was his father, while his mother has just revealed to him his true past, and he is reeling in the truth of the moment.

On Writing - Drugs v.s. Creativity

Some of the greatest literary works in history are supposed to have been written or conceived while the author was high. This naturally leads one to make the association that more drugs equals more creativity. A reasonable associaton while reading Alice in Wonderland for the first time, or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. However, it is questionable as to whether this is actually the case.
Stephen King says in his book On Writing, that "the idea that creative endeavor and mind-altering substances are entwined is one of the greast pop-intellectual myths of our time." For King, this is not a topic for debate. He is stating that that link is myth. It does not exist. And he should know. He spent years as an alcoholic and sniffing cocaine, worrying about whether he could continue the way he was. After a while, he just stopped caring.
In his book, King also describes not being able to remember writing his book Cujo. If you can't remember writing something, did you actually write it? If it's a question of bad memory, then yes, you likely did write it, unless you plagiarized. However, if you can't remember because you were so hopped up on drugs at the time, it's debatable whether or not you actually wrote it, or whether it was the drugs kicking your brain into overdrive and spewing words out at a hundred miles an hour.
There are many fantastic books written by sober people, or people who were sober when they wrote them, at least. Often, authors who partake in drugs and alcohol are more well known for their questionable habits than their literary works, which is a great pity.

Independant Reading Blog#10: 'Tis - Ability to Relate to the Story

Frank McCourt's memoir 'Tis is not supposed to be a book we can relate to, I think. The singular experiences of this young Irish gentleman are experiences only possible in a time long gone. We today are likely not able to understand McCourt's predicaments and problems. We may, however, be able understand the motives, emotions, or desires, as they are fairly human. He speaks of wanting to move up in life, of wanting sex, or womanly company at least, and of wanting to fit in. These are all human feelings that we can relate to, however, McCourt's specific experiences can hardly be related to for the average person, as they are so far from what we have experienced. However, this most certainly does not detract from the entertainment and enjoyability of 'Tis. It is a superbly written book, and well worth the read.

Independant Reading Blog#9: 'Tis - Social Commentary

The social commentary in Frank McCourt's 'Tis mostly pertains to the poor Irish class living in New York in the 1950's. There is rampant alcoholism, and therefore financial instability prevails. Education is not sought after, and in some cases even made fun of. It seems to be a very ignorant and racist society, as each ethinic group had a nickname. The Irish were referred to as "Micks", a shortened form of the common Irish name Michael.
McCourt wonders at points in the book about this new country he's just moved to, which is supposed to be a country in which you're free to do what you want, but in which he feels constrained by foreign rules and etiquette he doesn't know or understand.

Independant Reading Blog#8: 'Tis - Themes

There are three major themes in Frank McCourt's memoir 'Tis, all of which have to deal with personal advancement, or barriers blocking the way for personal advancement.
The first theme is the importance of education. Education, a thing which McCourt has precious little of upon arrival in New York, soon becomes his main priority. This is because he recognizes that if he does not gain academic knowledge, he will not be able to get a good enough non-labour job that will support him. Throughout the first part of the book, McCourt is fascinated with the University students he sees on the buses and subways around the city. Once he graduates, he becomes a teacher, because he realizes the importance of passing on his own knowledge.
The second theme is racism/classism. McCourt is constantly struggling against the racist society of the 1950's. Even though he is white, and going to college, his Irish accent gives him away as a foreigner, and even his professors make remarks about his "brogue". It is usually not an overt or aggresive racism, such as it is for the blacks in the book, although it does sometimes take the form of an insult accompanied by the term "mick". It is usually implied, but just enough to let the person know they're different. This leads to the Irish experienced with New York giving the advice to the new arrivals "keep to your own kind".
The third theme in 'Tis is the importance of hard work. The point is made that if one works hard enough, one can get anything they want. Minor characters in the book give examples of Irishmen who came to America young, worked hard their entire life, and saved up their money, and retired home to Ireland rich. McCourt also works hard to get where he does, working two jobs at a time, on top of going to school. When he teaches, he has to work during the summer in order to sustain himself. But he does well for himself in the end, and that might be to act as incentive for readers to work hard, or at least to understand the importance of hard work.

Independant Reading Blog#7: 'Tis - Setting

Frank McCourt's 'Tis is written in the unique setting of New York in the 1950's, a time and place where the prosperity of the post war economy was being enjoyed to its fullest. However, in the same city, at the same time, there was also a large population of people living in poverty. Most of the impoverished being Irish or Puerto Rican, the two cultures within the poor population were further isolated due to cultural differences, as well as from the general population by their financial differences. Racism against both cultures is common at the time, even despite the Irish being white, and ancestors of many New Yorkers.
McCourt experiences various facets of life in New York City at that time. He worked in the rough and tumble docks, where you had to watch out for a bailing hook coming at your back. He went to school at NYU, where he sat beside middle and upper-middle class college students. He taught at a Manhattan high school, where he had to tame the kids before he could teach them anything.
Much of what McCourt was concerned about in his early years in Manhattan though, was finding accomodation. He goes through a number of boarding houses and hotel rooms, before he finds one that he's even remotely satisfied with. He is then, of course, forced to move for various reasons, and the process repeats itself. McCourt's travels through New York's Irish boarding houses gives you good idea of the social setting at the time. For example, all of the boarders he lives with drink heavily, all of the rooms he stays in are shabby and unkept, and many of the landlords have problems of their own. The church still often looked after the poor.

Independant Reading Blow#6: 'Tis - Characters

Frank McCourt as a character is rather innoncent and naive, in a way. He is quick to go along with whatever is happening, partly because he never knows what to do. He figures things out throughout the course of the book, but he could have benefited from some of his later knowledge earlier on.
There are three characters in Frank McCourt's 'Tis that influence McCourt the most. These are his girlfriend Alberta "Mike" Small, Horace another warehouse worker, and his father. There are an assortment of other smaller characters, from whom McCourt learns, including the Biltmore Hotel's Puerto Rican kitchen staff, Italian-American soldiers, and inner city Manhattan high school kids, but none touch him quiet the same way these three do.
Mike Small changes the way McCourt thinks about women. Small is a fellow NYU student, who meets McCourt in one of their classes. He describes her as having a "figure that you only see in films", and is over the moon when he gets a smile from her. Before dating her, he viewed women mainly as a gateway to sex. However, afterwards, he was more open to the concept of a long term relationship with a woman, rather than a one night stand at least. For a while, McCourt's life revolved around Small.
Horace the dock worker plays an important role for McCourt. He acts as a fatherly figure while McCourt is going through tough academic, social, and financial times in New York. The only problem: Horace was black. This earned both McCourt and Horace a lot of negative attention from the other dockworkers, turning their father-son like relationship into something more special, that was worth defending. McCourt even says that he wishes Horace could've been his father, because Horace encourages his son to go to university in Canada.
The third, and probably most influential character on McCourt is his father. This is because McCourt views his father as the source of all his problems in life. His father's alcoholism cost McCourt, his mother and brothers their happiness and their economic security, pushing them further into poverty. The most shaping force on McCourt's life was the absence of his father.

Independant Reading Blog#5: 'Tis - Plot

'Tis, the second book in Frank McCourt's trilogy of memoirs begins with the author landing in New York as an eighteen year-old. McCourt arrives by ship, and in the company of a priest, who helps McCourt get established in his new city. The priest then departs for his Californian parish, leaving McCourt after an uncomfortable occurence in their hotel the previous night.
The priest is one of the many characters that populate McCourt's memoir, which spans from McCourt's 1949 New York arrival, till roughly 1985, the year McCourt's father died. In between, we follow Frank McCourt through the prime years of his life, which he spends thinking about girls, hopping from job to job, and trying to get an education to move himself up in the world. McCourt starts off working at the Biltmore Hotel, before joing the American Army and serving in Europe as a dog trainer and company clerk. When he returns, he goes through stints working in the docks and warehouses of New York harbour and goes through some training at an insurance company. Eventually, he attends social science classes at NYU, and upon graduation, he settles into a teaching job at McKee Vocational and Technical High School. He teaches for more than thirty years in Manhattan's public school system.
Throughout his life, McCourt is forced through frequent lodging changes, living in every kind of Irish boarding house imaginable, including one run by a Jew. To complicate matters for himself, he is usually chasing after a girl, which often distracts him from his studies. The girl who makes the biggest splash in his life is Alberta "Mike" Small, a fellow student at NYU, who changes the way McCourt thinks about women.
The final scene in the book is at McCourt's father's funeral in Belfast. His mother, Angela, has already died, and his estranged father is the last immediate family he has left in Ireland. As Frank and his youngest brother Alphie travel to Belfast for the funeral, they close an era marked by the gradual migration of the McCourt family to America. The two McCourt brothers are returning to their homeland, now no longer the primary residence of members of their family. This is opposite to the beginning of the book, where Frank McCourt travels on his own to New York, not knowing anybody. The journeys inbetween, particularly that of Frank McCourt, show the migration of a family, through hard work, not only to a new country, but to a much better social and economic standing.

Independant Reading Blog#4: 'Tis - Figurative Speech

Figurative speech is used in Frank McCourt's book 'Tis, however, it is used lightly. There is one simile that is repeated throughout the book, and is important to our understanding of McCourt as a character. The phrase he uses to describe his eyes, "like two piss holes in the snow", gives you a very vivid image of a yellow, crusty ring around his eyes, as there might be yellow-tinted snow left around a hole in a snow bank after hit by a stream of urine. His eyes are what causes him trouble throughout his life, and he is left to deal with the stigma of poor eyes and bad teeth.
There is also repetition of phrases throughout the novel to tie it together. Phrases such as "eyes like two piss holes in the snow", and "stick to your own" are to be found throughout the book, and bring the story together at points, uniting some of the themes.

Independant Reading Blog#3: 'Tis - Tone

Because of his impoverished upbringing in New York and the lanes of Limerick, his father's abandonement of their family, and the stigma attached to his eye and dental problems, Frank McCourt's tone rightfully is often resentful, and occasionally angry or vengeful. These emotions come through in him most often in the book when he is drunk, or emotionally upset.
McCourt's tone is also confused, towards the beginning of the book. The book starts off with him as an eight-teen year old boy arriving in New York, and from there finding his way in the world. Naturally, having just arrived in an unfamiliar country and not being sure of how things work, McCourt would be confused, as anybody else would be. Throughout the book, however, his tone becomes more and more confidant and adult, and less and less angry and childish.
Another emotion McCourt "experiences", a little too frequently perhaps, is love. He is often chasing after women, and Alberta "Mike" Small, one of his girlfriends, figures prominently in his life. When he gets frustrated with women, it will show in his tone. He might start describing things with added use of swearing, or repeating things like he does when he's angry.
He also experiences a sort of fatherly love with Horace, the black man he works with at Port Warehouses. This comes through differently as well, as he speaks fondly of Horace, even saying that he wishes he'd had Horace for a father.

Independant Reading Blog#2: 'Tis - Diction

McCourt's diction in his memoir 'Tis is similar to his style in many respects. His choice of words is fairly simple, almost layman like, and yet he succeeds in describing with colour the events occurring in his book. There are no, or very few, "big words" in 'Tis. In the book, McCourt talks about having to look up "big words" like existenialism and bubkes. Again, this is probably intentional, and meant to reflect McCourt's simple upbringing and minimal education before attending NYU.
McCourt does, however, exhibit a knowledge of many types of slang, ranging from Irish cussing to Italian sayings. The different styles of slang, or use of specific words by certain characters, often associates them with one of the various groups McCourt comes across in his life. The Irish-American dock workers speak one way, while the NYU students speak another, and the men in the American Army speak yet another. This helps add to the feel of the novel, giving each character a twist of their own, adding to their identity.

Independant Reading Blog #1: 'Tis - Style

Frank McCourt, author of 'Tis, was brought up in the poverty of 1930's and '40s Limerick, with only a limited eductaion available to him. That fact is intentionally evident in the style in which his book is written. McCourt's writing is simple, almost child-like, with little and "improper" use of puncuation. Yet it is very descriptive, getting across very vivid images in the simplest language. In that sense, it is probably very like Irish storytellers that McCourt remembers as a child, among them his father.
McCourt's sentences are often ungainly in length, and occasionally awkwardly phrased, sometimes recquiring a second read through. He also repeats phrases or sentences within certain sections. This usually happens when he is feeling intense emotions, like anger or shame, or when he is drunk.
For example, he often lists the many troubles that are making him mad, and then repeats them while explaining that no one would care about or understand, his problems. This is an easy method to use in order to get the reader to remember a certain phrase(s) which will tie the book together at different points.
In the end, McCourt's style, though simple, is very effective, and contributes to the unique feel of the story.

Too Bad About Mrs. Ferri

It's not every child you run into who grew up next-door to a big-shot comedian, and whose parents had no qualms about making demands in a mob restaurant, with the owner (and friends) present. August Kleinzahler was one of these, however. The way he makes his experiences seem genuinely eight-year-old-ish is through the content of his memories, as well as the fact that he doesn't try and make it look as if he knew better than he did at the time. No eight-year-old would. For example, when Mr. Anastasia, August's friend's dad, and a local mob capo, gets assinated, Augusts' mother tells him that Mr. Anastasia "got very, very sick" and that "Gloriana and her mommy are to have to go away for a while." Also, a lot of what is often remembered is what other people, usually older than he is, are telling him. For example, when his mother informs him of Mr. Anastasia's "illness", or when Buddy Hackett told him "Fuck you, kid; talk to my agent." He has many memories of people talking to him, but not many of him speaking, Buddy Hackett episode excluded. This is probably true of most people, because when you're a kid, up to a certain age, most of what goes on in your world either happens in your head, or is your observation of something else. You might comment on your observations to those present, but your not usually articulate enough for it to make much sense.

The Dog, The Family: A Household Tale

Most people have parents. In fact, everybody has parents. However, when your parents don't take any interest in you, they tend to become not so much parents, as people you have to live with. This was the case for August Kleinzahler, whose recent memoire "Cutty, One Rock", was very well received by critics nationwide. Kleinzahler, born in New Jersey in 1949, was raised in a family that was far less than caring. His parents openly told him he was a mistake, and chose not to have any part in his early upbringing, leaving him in the responsibility of the family dog and their Czech housekeeper. After firing Christine, the housekeeper, his did mother decided to take some part in the rearing of her youngest child, but probably only because her husband would have nothing to do with raising children. The first thing Kleinzahler's mother did: try to get rid of her son's thick Czech accent, a result of being completely ignored by his parents and taken in, in his own home, by Christine.
The dog, Granny, however, played an even larger role in Kleinzahler's early years than the housekeeper. Granny was his only playmate, his only friend. His brother and sister were never there for him. His sister was constantly studying Latin behind her locked bedroom door, while his brother was either found in the basement, putting together model airplanes, or outside in an apple tree, but certainly not with Augustus. Everyone seemed to ignore Augustus Kleinzahler in his childhood. If they weren't ignoring him, they were making fun of him. His great aunt called him "dog-boy", his mother never let him forget his accent, teasing him about it years later by immitating him. His father, meanwhile, completely ignored his children. All in all, Kleinzahler's does not seem like a good, or even a normal childhood.
The mood for the entire piece is, I believe set up by the first sentence, "It was the dog who raised me". That does not bode well for the cheeriness factor throughout the rest of the book, and the second sentence does nothing to lighten the tone, "Oh, the others came and went with their nurturing gestures and concerns, but it was the dog on whose ear I teethed and who watched over me with the sagacity and bearing of a Ugandan tribal chief". I did thouroughly enjoy the first chapter though.

Gr.12 - Blog #1: THe Glass Castle

MSNBC has a collection of characters from all different backgrounds working in their offices, and Jeannette Walls is one of them. Walls and her siblings were raised in poverty by their free-thinking parents, and she has now written a memoire about her childhood, which she has entitled The Glass Castle. In her book, the manner of her upbringing is reflected in the style of her writing: simple, yet colourful, and to the point. However, poor is one thing Walls' writing most certainly is not!
Conveyed to us through the memories displayed in The Glass Castle is the frank and somewhat removed tone of an author who might once have been intensely embarassed by what they are writing. I imagine it would have been excrutiatingly difficult for Ms. Walls to accept her parents as they were, and feel secure enough in herself to write a book about being raised in poverty. This comes through in the tone of her book, and makes it quite humble. She doesn't try to make you feel sorry for her, she just tells the stories as they are.
For an American, and an MSNBC employee, Walls' diction is fantastic. It's simple and to the point, which I think reflects her upbringing. She doesn't try to use extravagant vocabulary to spice up her stories, because then the stories wouldn't fit the characters, who were plain, simple people. "We'd have to be out of our minds to want to trade places with any of them," Walls' father says when talking about city people and the way they live. That easy-going, kind, simpleness bred into Walls from a young age is evident in her writing.

Blog #10 - The Ash Garden

QUOTATIONS:

Quotation #1:
"He nodded. "Yes," he said. "I'm back.""

I like this particular quotation because, even though we know that Anton and Sophie will not be able to have children, and will not live as happily together as they wished they would, this shows the time in their lives when they didn't know what was in store for them, and were hopeful for the future. Anton appeared to have made a bounce back from his state of self pity, regret, and anger at what his role in the bomb, which he had to do soon if he did not want his marriage to end in an ugly fashion. Sophie appears to be happy during this scene, and although she knows she won't be able to have children, she believes she has her loving husband back, which is all she cares about for the moment. I like this quotation because it shows two people in love and together once again, despite the challenges they have faced, and the trials still ahead.

Quotation #2:
"We bought hotdogs and Mrs. Forrester showed me how to dress mine, all this without words, squeezing ketchup and spooning relish and sauerkraut, and when I bit into its centre she smiled and repositioned the bun lengthwise in my hands."

This quotation appeals to me because it depicts Emiko attempting to live a normal life, and Mrs. Forrester trying to help her, even in the smallest of ways. Eating a hotdog on a summer day may seem to us like nothing special, or out of the ordinary, but that's exactly why it would be important to Emiko: because it is ordinary. For someone scarred by the Atomic bomb, who no longer looks normal, or is treated normally by her own people, to be able to do something ordinary for a change would be a real treat I imagine. Any chance for her to catch a glimpse of a regular, unscarred life would be relished I imagine (pardon the pun). All the more so because the concept of a hotdog was clearly a new experience for Emiko. I also like this scene because it is rather amusing to picture somebody trying to eat a hotdog sideways!

Quotation #3:
"He watched for insects and matched what he saw in the air to a blue-winged olive he carried in his fly box, tied it to his tippet and stepped carefully into the river."

I particularly like this quoatation because it describes with fantastic accuracy one of my most favourite leisurely pursuits: fly-fishing. In this scene, Anton is fishing in a river near his home in Port Elizabeth, and Marlie, the girl who Anton helped when her leg was broken on the toboggan hill during the winter, comes across him in the river. He feels an overwhelming urge to introduce himself, and to ask how her leg is feeling. To me, that really conveys to the reader how human Anton is. I do, however, have a bone to pick with one detail of the fly-fishing description. When watching for bugs to determine what type of fly to use, you look at the bugs on the water's surface, not the bugs in the air. This is because those are the bugs that are easiest for the fish to get, and like everything else in life, if you make things easy for others (human or not), you're more likely to get a response! Especially as during the summer time, as Bock mentioned, the fish are sluggish and lazy, tending to stick to the bottom of the river or lake, where the water is calmer and cooler.


QUESTIONS:

Question #1: What is your experience with fly-fishing, and do you have any good spots to recommend?

Question #2: What inspired you to write about the atomic bomb as opposed to a less depressing subject?

Question #3: Is there a personal connection for you to any aspect of the book, or is your novel entirely based on events unrelated to your life?

Blog #9 - The Weathermakers

Precis:
Chapter twenty of Tim Flannery's book The Weather Maker's is entitled "Boiling the Abyss", and begins with a very relevant quotation by Thomas Campbell: "Let us think of them that sleep; Full many a fathom deep ... ". The chapter goes on to explain the effects of global warming on the many wonderful and mysterious creatures that dwell in the oceans' depths. The results, needless to say, are not good.
Flannery explains that these creatures are as sensitive to temperature as we are to pressure. Early on, when they were caught and brought to the surface, they died. The cause of death was thought to be the pressure difference between their natural habitat at ours, however, when put in a bucket of icy water, they were fully revitalized within minutes. This proves that although they can survive at surface pressure, they can not survive in warmer temperatures. Even temperatures that would freeze us to death in minutes are fatally warm for these fish. This ability does have its pros and cons - Pro: we can catch them and keep them as ugly, fanged pets in bulletproof goldfish bowls ( ... or in museums). Minus: They all die if the water temperature goes up even a few degrees. Which it will do, as global temperatures continue to rise, and the polar ice caps, which circulate the supply of cold water around the world's oceans, melt.
It won't just be the swimming sea creatures that are harmed either. Shellfish will also get hammered if the ocean waters' CO2 content rises too far, which it is likely to do within the next hundred years or so. If the amount of CO2 in the water gets too high, the oceans will become acid, and the limited supply of carbonate, which acts as the oceans' buffer, will drop below the level at which crustaceans can use it to form their shells. At that point, the carbonate will be leached out of their shells and back into the oceans, making it impossible for these animals to maintain their protective covers. In a hundred years, we could see shell-less shellfish.
However, there is time, Flannery says. These events will take a hundred years or more to occur if we continue on at the pace we're going now. But it will happen. And if we don't do something about it, we may lose species of flora and fauna that are unknown to us at present. We may have already lost some. The oceans are the only place where we can still discover new creatures, and it's a bad idea to go about slowly destroying them just so we can have our human indulgences. We are the dominant species on our planet, and which means we must look after and care for all the other plants and animals, no matter how small. Like they say in the comics, with great power, comes great responsibility.

Questions:
1.) How can the average person help save the lives of stoplight loosejaws and hairy seadevils?

2.) How big a role in the ecosystem (global or local) do these deep sea creatures play?

3.) Is there a way we can undo the damage we've already done to the Earth, or are there only preventative measures that we can take at this point?

Blog #8: A Fan Letter to Joe Kertes

Dear Mr. Kertes,
What a fantastic book you've written! Characters, characters, characters everywhere you turn, and a story clearly told by one of the best; what more could a reader ask for?
Let me say that, although Holocaust books are pretty much never on the list of things I'm reading at any particular moment, having only read one or two others of that genre that I recall, yours did an unfortunately wonderful job of striking home the horrid events of that period. The plethora of characters found in your novel, each with their own intricate and detailed back story, are all masterfully cast towards thier respective fates, whether that be a life long bond with another, or a gaping hole left where someone has been taken. For character and story/plot in your book, Mr. Kertes, you earn an eleven out of ten.
However, there was one thing about your book that I didn't particularly like. You took a stellar three hundred to four hundred page book, and turned it into a good, but titanic five hundred page beast for a slow reader like me. In my opinion, you too often tended towards over-doing descriptions, and lengthened out characters' thoughts and reflections inordinately. Your choice of words was impecable, but there were just too many of them, I think. You might have avoided that bit of criticism if you were, say, Charles Dickens, but as you were neither attempting to imitate his style, nor receiving a per-word paycheck, I found that flaw in your novel an unnecessary and unfortunate drag to the story.
Having read your novel, I can definitely say I remembered why I don't read Holocaust books: I don't like feeling bad. It's just not a pleasant feeling to remember what we as humans are capable of doing, and have done. I'm certainly not saying we should try to ignore it and forget about it, as that would be nearly as bad as commiting the act itself. However, I am saying that given a choice, reading a book of this nature in my spare time would not be at the top of my list! I personally would have chosen something a little lighter in subject and perhaps a little easier on the Dickens-esque descriptions.
Having said all that, your book really wasn't as bad as I might have made it seem. I did quite thouroughly enjoy it, and popped out the back cover glad that I had read it. At the least, I can say that I've rekindled my desire not to read another Holocaust book for a very long time!
Best regards, and good luck with the next book. I hope it's as good as Gratitude.

Will Barton

BLOG# 7: Woman Novelist Blog - Break No Bones

PARAGRAPH #1:
In Kathy Reichs latest crime novel, Break No Bones, we follow forensic anthropologist Temperance Brennan through a knot of Charleston murder investigations, at first seemingly unrelated, but which wind closer and closer together as the plot progresses. Reichs has an uncanny ability for making her characters believable. She has as firm a grasp on human manerisms, habits, and behaviour as is possible, and has used this to her full advantage in creating characters that seem more real to me than any others I have read about for a very long time.
One thing Reichs does, which I quite like, is giving certain characters nicknames, even if the name only sticks until you learn the person's real name. For example, the reporter Homer Winborne is introduced on the first page of the book as "Plankton," because he presents as having the IQ of plankton. Once you learn his name, however, he is usually referred to as Winborne, although Plankton is still thrown in occasionally to emphasize his plankton-like stubbornness and stupidity. Other examples of nicknames would be the dog Boyd being called "the chow", and the body found in a floating barrel earning the appropriate name "barrel lady".
Other things I liked about Reichs' writing were that she keeps her discriptions fairly short and to the point, and moves the book along at a brisk pace, while effectively using suspense to keep the reader hooked. Also, her use of often humourous and always intriguing "Charlestonian" or Southern slang words, such as Sheriff Gullet's "jigswiggered," which so confuses Ryan, makes the reading a little more fun.
Overall, Reichs' book was extremely enjoyable, and far preferable to watching an episode of CSI.

PARAGRAPH #2:
There is not much to dissappoint in Break No Bones. The puzzle-addicts will get their fix from the ever twisting plot, and intertwining murder cases, leaving you to wonder about what's going on in Charleston. Action lovers will be left satisfied by close calls with a gator, a devilish doctor, and a local developer's thugs, among others. Reichs' writing style lacks nothing except errors, and even enlightens the reader with her use of "good" words.
The only qualm I have about the book is that Emma died, as I never like to see best friends (or lovers, for that matter) be torn apart. However, if Emma lived, her entire sideplot would be rather useless, so it was probably best she was killed off ... for the greater good and all that!

PARAGRAPH #3:
"At noon we reconvened in the kitchen, and the mental cut and thrusts between the men started anew. Halfway through lunch, I'd had it.
'You two are acting like escapees from a school for the criminally immature.'
Two faces went puppy dog innocent.
'How about we all take a sabbatical. It's a holiday weekend, a time-out will be rejuvinating.' I couldn't believe I was saying this but the constant bickering was wearing on my nerves.
'Pete, go play another eighteen holes. Ryan, let's drive into town and ambush Emma for a day at the beach.'"

I particularly like this passage because it describes Ryan and Pete's arguing in a very original manner: criminally immature! Followed by the old "puppy-dog-face-cliché", it's a very effective depiction of the situation in the room, and of the silly things men will do for a woman's attention. And also, of course, of the woman catching out the two guys!

"'Jigswiggered?'
'You knew what he meant.'
Ryan pulled into traffic. For a Saturday afternoon, there was quite a bit. 'Is that a bad thing? To swigger a jig?'
'Under certain circumstances.'
'Or were plural jigs wiggered? Perhaps he really meant to swig a jigger.'
I punched Ryan's arm.
'That's an assault.'
'Arrest me.'"

I liked this quotation for two reasons: 1) The word "jigswiggered", and Ryan's witty comment on Gullet's word; 2) Reichs' accurate depiction of 'banter' between two lovers. This reflects her understanding of human manerisms and behaviour, as discussed earlier, and she came up with a fairly original and clever exchange. And most importantly, she gives me, the reader, a new line to use when MY girlfriend playfully punches me in the arm and I'm stuck for a comeback!

Blog #6 - A Fan Letter to the Author

Dear Philip Pullman,

I recently finished reading The Golden Compass, the first book in your famous trilogy. What a book! I almost couldn't put it back down on the coffee table where it lived. You've got such a unique writing style, and a real imagination to pull very colourful characters from.

Firstly, I like your idea of daemons. It's a very intriguing idea, for most people, to have an animal companion or soul mate that follows you everywhere, speaks to you, and knows your thoughts. And the fact that some of the main daemons in your book can change forms makes it even more fascinating. It's what every child really wants, is to have their very own pet lion or tiger or bear, and I'll admit, I think most adults wouldn't mind one occasionally either! So it really appeals to most people, as well as being a great way to add to or reveal some of the plot, help get characters out of tight situations, and give us more insight into what your characters are really like.

I also quite like the way that you invented words to fit your needs, but which made sense. I particularly liked Panserbjorne and Bolvangar. Panserbjorne conjures up the image of this living tank with claws, which makes sense, given the word Panser is most commonly heard with reference to the World War Two German tank divisions in North Africa. Bjorne sounds like bear, but also gives you an image of the far North, places like Norway. And Bolvangar, although it has no relation to any actual word that I know of (this is another clear demonstration of your powerful imagination), has this sound to it that emanates evil and malice. It doesn't sound like a nice place to be! Gyptian is also a very well crafted word, which produced an image of these characters for me somewhere in between Gypsies and Egyptians (although they ended up looking and sounding more like English farmhands for me!)

You write in a flowing, easy to read style that conveys your world and visions of the events within it very well. Not once did I have to reread a sentence to try and understand it. Perhaps that has more to do with it being a children's book, but if that's the case then I think children have a better idea of how to read than adults!

I look forward to continuing the trilogy, and already have a copy of the Subtle Knife sitting on the coffee table also.
All the best in the New Year,

Will Barton

Blog #5 - Book of Choice: The Golden Compass

LYRA BELACQUA:
"Finally, and almost simultaneously, the children discovered what it was like to be drunk.
'Do they like like doing this?' asked Roger, after vomitting copiously.
'Yes,' said Lyra, in the same condition. 'And so do I,' she added stubbornly."

This quotation, taken from the part early in the story when Roger and Lyra venture into the Jordan College wine cellars, finds the two children sitting against the cellar wall in an inebriated state, amused by their daemons rapidly changing gargoylesque shapes. The author, Philip Pullman, reveals two traits about Lyra in these few lines: her intense curiosity, and her dearest wish to be grown up. She is so curious about why the grown ups like to drink wine that she convinces Roger to try it with her. The result was as one would expect when young children begin drinking well aged hooch, and Lyra is determined that if adults like this sensation, then she does too.

IOREK BYRNISON:
"'I must work till sunset,' he said. 'I gave my word this morning to the master here. I still owe a few minutes' work.'
'The sun's set where I am,' she pointed out, becuase from her point of view it had vanished behind the rocky headland to the southwest.
He dropped to all fours.
'It's true,' he said, with his face now in shadow like hers. 'What's your name, child?'
'Lyra Belacqua.'
'Then I owe you a debt, Lyra Belacqua,' he said."

One of Iorek Byrnison's traits that is shown in this particular quotation is his unfaltering sense of duty. Even though he has been told where his armour is being hidden, and he describes as being like a daemon for a bear, he still feels bound to work until his time is up, and finish the job that is expected of him. It also displays his sense of gratitude. He says he owes Lyra a debt when she shows him that by getting lower to the ground, the sun sets a few minutes earlier, and he can therefore leave work ealier in order to recover his armour from the priest's basement, which shows he is grateful for her help, as well as loyal.

LEE SCORESBY:
"Sitting on the bear's armour with one ankle resting on the opposite knee was the long-limbed for of Lee Scoresby, and in his hand was the longest pistol Lyra had ever seen, casually pointing at the ample stomach of the sysselman.
'Seems to me you ain't taken very good care of my friend's armour,' he said conversationally. Why, look at the rust! And I wouldn't be surprised to find moths in it, too. Now you just stand where you are, still and easy, and don't anybody move till the bear comes back with some lubrication. Or I guess you could all go home and read the newspaper. 'S up to you.'"

Revealed in this qoutation is not only Lee Scoresby's previous acquaintance with Iorek Byrnison, but also his loyalty to the bear, and his belief that the bear's armour and life, and the Gyptian expedition is worth fighting for. Scoresby is much like a bear in the sense that he is dutiful and loyal, but he also doubts, which a bear does not. Scoresby displays his loyalty, but he acknowledges his concern for his own well-being later on, while talking to the witch Serafina Pekkala. This concern, however, does not interfere with his dedication to getting the task at hand completed.

FARDER CORAM:
"'What's it do, Farder Coram?' said John Faa. 'And how do you read it?'"

This particular quotation shows that Farder Coram is very wise. To have the leader of the Gyptians put so much trust in you as to ask how a mysterious and unknown, possibley magical or dangerous device works, is clearly an indicator of your reliability and how trustworthy you are. It is mentioned later that Farder Coram has travelled all over the world, had many adventures and encounters with different groups and tribes of peoples, and is the wisest and most knowledable of the Gyptians. Following this quotation, Farder Coram explains what he knows about the aleithometer, which advances the plot and our knowledge of the so far alien truth machine.

MA COSTA:
"'Well, what have you done with him, you half-arsed pillock?'
It was a mighty voice, a woman's voice, but a woman with lungs of brass and leather. Lyra looked around for her at once, because this was Ma Costa, who had clouted Lyra dizzy on two occasions and given her hot gingerbread on three, and whose family was noted for the grandeur and sumptuousness of their boat."

Ma Costa, who we later find out was once Lyra's surrogate mother, is just and fair, as demonstrated by the part of this quotation that reads ".. this was Ma Costa, who had clouted Lyra on two occasions and given her hot gingerbread on three .." This shows that Ma Costa is capable of being impartial. The first line also indicates to us that she can have a temper on occasion, although this time it is understandable, as she is yelling at the man who was looking after her son, Billy, when he was taken by the Gobblers.