The Yiddish Policemen’s Union

The Yiddish Policemen’s Union is a bit like The Pelican Brief with Jews. Not that there weren’t any Jews in The Pelican Brief – I actually have no idea about that. But it’s one big “conspiracy thriller” with an all-Jewish cast and TPB was the first thing that popped into my head. It seems slightly ill-advised at this point, but I’d rather not delete 4 rows’ worth of typing

YPU is actually a pretty engaging modern noir police novel, at least on one level: you’ve got the murder, the down on his luck detective, his better adjusted partner and the sassy dame (who happens to be the detective’s ex-wife and brand new boss). If you go up to level 2 – there’s the whole conspiracy thing waiting for you there: our rebel, unruly detective digs into what appears to be an insignificant crime (a dead junkie, isn’t this how it always starts?) only to discover (300 pages and a spoiler alert later) a plot involving the highest government figures. So…if all this sounds like the kind of thing you’d enjoy, then run down to the store and get the book. Me – I was slightly disappointed by the climax as it seems too run-of-the-mill; I’ve been there too many times, in too many movies.

But what worked so much better for me, what I found so much more interesting and engaging were…levels 3 and 4 if you will: the personal drama and, last but not least, the alternative history angle.

The drama! I liked that Landsman wasn’t just a cardboard cutout of an archetype but a three-dimensional character with motivations that ran deeper than the obvious. Sure, he’s a messed up middle-aged drinker, but he’s also curious, cunning, loyal to his friend, partner & cousin and with serious daddy issues. When I put it like this, he sounds exactly like the type of guy I said he’s not, so I guess you’ll have to take my word for it: he jumps right off the page.

Finally, the absolute best part: alternative universe. The whole story takes place around 2008 in Sitka, Alaska, which is temporary independent Jewish settlement (with Yiddish spoken as an official language) about to be “reversed” to the US as per a 60-year-old agreement. The whole population is in turmoil since there’s no other Jewish land where they are welcome and they are once again forced to disperse all over the world (some are even going to Madagascar). In this AU, the state of Israel doesn’t exist (it was destroyed in 1948 and is now Palestinian territory), WWII ended in 1946 after a nuclear bomb was dropped over Berlin, the Cuban missile crisis turned into war (I’m just guessing here, the book only mentions a Cuban war in the 60s), JFK wasn’t murdered but married Marilyn Monroe – and many other deviations which are quite fun to spot. Since the main focus is on the self-contained universe of Sitka, the outside world makes only brief but revealing appearances.

Plus – reading this really is a great deal of fun & Mr. Chabon sure knows how to spin a phrase (his writing feels a bit…spidery – by the time you realize where you’re going, you’re already irretrievably caught). Apparently there’s also a movie in development somewhere out there, and I’m glad to say that the perfect people are currently involved with it: the Coen brothers. I can only hope it gets made.

Speaking of movies, the Oscar nominations were announced a couple of weeks ago and they are boring, with a side of utter disappointment. But what else can you expect? I’ll write about them – and about the movies I’ve seen (and those that I won’t. Ever.) sometime this week.

The light of day

I don’t really know where to start except to say that this is a perfectly enjoyable but quite forgettable little book; it’s one of those things (books, movies) where the storytelling matters more than the story itself – probably because the story is just that common and boring. But the writing is beautiful, and exiles and lost souls are always interesting to gauge.

This is a first person account of two of George Webb’s most significant cases (the one that got him dismissed from the police and the one in which he stepped over the line and became emotionally involved), intertwined with bits and pieces of his life: his relationship with his daughter, his divorce, his parents’ deaths, his unlikely passion for cooking and all those other things we one day add up and call experience.

The protagonist of the latter case is Sarah Nash, a French teacher whose ob/gyn husband is cheating on her. Nothing surprising there – Webb is after all a private detective and he seems to specialize in matrimonial issues – until she murders her husband right after he had definitively parted from his mistress.

George, whose monologue points to him being a very lonely and melancholic person, falls in love with Sarah, visits her in prison every other week and her husband’s grave once a year, on the anniversary of his death – all the while feeling some sort of guilt over not preventing the tragedy; not seeing the signs sooner. He’s a bit of a one-note guy, as guilt actually guides his through life towards the inevitable failure. It might sound depressing, but I found him oddly comforting, the same way I find rainy October afternoons comforting.

I’d say – this on a train. Or plane. Or bus. It’s a pretty nice way to pass the time in-between.

For actual reviews and a look at how The light of day can be integrated in Mr. Swift’s other works (something I definitely can’t do, since this is out first encounter) – check out The Guardian or The New Republic.

Notes from a small island

Notes from a small island wasn’t exactly what i expected, and in a sense, I have to say I was a bit disappointed. I was looking forward (for a reason I can’t rationally explain) to a sort of mock journal – something in the vein of Three Men on the Bummel - with witty commentary on British eccentricities, gross and purposefully funny exaggerations and various misunderstandings. What I got was an actual travel diary of an American who lived in the UK for 20 years and suddenly decided to visit all the cities on foot or with the aid of public transportation. While that’s a perfectly cool idea, and something I’d enjoy doing myself, it’s really something better done than read about. Maybe I should have checked out a map, but I don’t have much patience for these things, so I read on about the hotels & shops in some British village, about forgotten roman ruins, medieval castles, graves, monuments, musings on transportation and weather. While it was funny at times and overall quite enjoyable, I’m afraid I wasn’t left with anything much. Should I ever have the unexpected luck of trying a similar endeavor, perhaps the book will come in handy – at least as far as comparisons might go. Besides, the book is rather dated by frequent references to one local political figure or other which, 15 years later, don’t mean anything to me (and probably to no one who isn’t British or very much into British politics).

And another thing that irked me? The constant reminder that things (like meals or museum entrances) are expensive and overpriced. Why is this even worth mentioning, when I believe it’s common knowledge to everyone that for a hotel breakfast not included in the room rate you will have to shell out considerably more than you would if you’d just run down to some café 2 blocks away? If this sort of consideration were coming from my friends, I’d ask them what the hell else they were expecting and then move on to another topic. I don’t enjoy talking about money with a large group of people (actually, the fewer, the better) and I particularly don’t enjoy listening to a pretty well to do writer gripe about a 14£ breakfast. I’m just saying…

On the other hand, it’s clear that Bryson loves the little island and is pained to see it ruined: apparently almost every town has a new architectural monstrosity to show for itself that completely ruins an otherwise perfectly quaint, Victorian street. But hey, this was 15 years ago – after all, he dissed Oxford and I was in love with it, so maybe things have changed…or we just have different standards

Something quite touching I was left with – the story of a small mining town (Ashington) where, after 10 hours of work, miners would still find the time for higher purposes such as painting, reading and other cultural pursuits. To be fair, how many of us are really interested in anything beyond lying down like a sack of potatoes after 9 or 10 hours spent in an office sitting down and staring at a screen? And something funny he pointed out? The British propensity for weirdly twisted names: Scabcleuch, Whiterashes, Scurlage, Whelpo (Bryson’s right – it does sound like dogfood), Wigtwizzle, Chew Magna or Yonder Bognie. There’s something very endearing in all this.

But the best thing about the book – the fact that I woke in my a very deep desire to do something similar myself one day – not write a book, but travel across the country (preferably, his adoptive country and definitely not mine).

Dune. From God Emperor to Chapter House.

I said I’d read the 3 Dune books while on holiday – and I didn’t, but now – now I finally am on the other side. All done. I feel a little like I’ve finished my homework, although they weren’t exactly taxing. At the end of the day, I have to say my favorite remains the first – Paul’s rise to power and the introduction of Dune – but I found these 3 to be quite interesting and, at times, very engaging.

One aspect that sort of disturbed me all throughout were the constant allusions to the pre-space age – our own times. Many characters revert to notions from these times, to Latin or Roman gods and, while it’s somewhat understandable for the Bene Gesserit and their other memory, it still seems to lack relevance for the described situations or characters. After all, supposedly, thousands of years have passed and there should have been other call backs and other parables used. I feel that these references are done for the benefit of the reader, to prevent him from being lost in too much fictional history, but, at the end of the day, they don’t to justice to how complex the Dune mythology is. That being said…I’ll start with the beginning:

The God Emperor of Dune is all about Leto II (son of Paul Muad’Dib) whom we last left following his golden path and attempting to live in symbiosis with the sand worm vectors. Three thousand years have passed and he has transformed into an actual gigantic worm, his only human features remaining his face and intellect. We’re not regaled with stories of his reign – seems to have been a rather peaceful time…and stagnant, for that matter. Of course, technological advances made by the Ixians are described, but, as a society, Dune hasn’t progressed much. Leto is deified (as any seemingly immortal emperor would be) and his most devoted servants (and almost priestesses) are the Fish Speakers (a bit like amazons, warrior women). His long and powerful reign has reduced the power of all other political entities, starting with the Landsraad, CHOAM, the Spacing Guild and even the Bene Gesserit. This is where we start, and we go through about 400 pages of meditations on the necessity of his golden path, of clever manipulation of various aides or enemies (most prominently among them – the many gholas of Duncan Idaho and Moneo Atreides, his faithful majordomo), of pseudo-philosophical discussions and a seemingly absurd decision to marry Hwi, the Ixian ambassador. Consulting with other memory Leto muses on the cyclical nature of societies and events and, ultimately works towards his own downfall, all for the purpose of perpetuating humankind. While Leto, Duncan and Moneo make for pretty interesting characters, all others (even Siona) feel like one-dimensional cardboard cut-outs, present in the narration for the single purpose of advancing the plot. It’s gotta pretty obvious by now that this was probably my least favorite book of the series, isn’t it?

Heretics of Dune – this is where things get interesting again. We skip in time once more, now 1500 years after Leto’s reign has ended. His much discussed path and wish for humanity seems to have worked – afraid of the recurrence of such powerful domination, humanity has scattered all throughout the universe and is no longer confined solely to the old Empire. The Bene Gesserit – easily the most fascinating organization envisioned by Mr. Herbert – are now front and center, and Dune (Arrakis and finally Rakis) still plays a pivotal role. The ecological transformation that destroyed the sandworm in Leto’s time, turning the planet from desert to lush green has reverted and the old ways of the Fremen are returning. The game is played on 2 fronts: on Dune, where Sheeana, a child of the desert, possesses the power to control the worm, Shai-hulud (or Shaitan, as she calls him) and Reverend Mother Superior Taraza takes interest in her, deciding to transform her into a BG and on Gammu (the former Giedi Prime, Harkonnen home planet) where the Bene Gesserit Mentat Miles Teg is planning to train and then restore the memories of yet another Duncan Idaho ghola. All this is done with the pressure of a threat coming from the Scattering: Honoured Matres, an organization seemingly similar to the BG is destroying all in its quest for power. This is merely the setup, the novel is quite alert, the characters are gripping and interesting (I particularly had a fondness for Mothers Superior Dar and Tar) and I definitely enjoyed the delving in the Tleilaxu culture (heavily influenced by a Muslim/Arabic medium). By the end, the scales of power change, Odrade is precariously set as the leader of the Bene Gesserits, Dune is destroyed and the Honoured Matres seem to have won the day. But by now, I fully expect that nothing is really what it seems in these power games.

Chapter House Dune takes place, as the name suggests, at the Bene Gesserit headquarters, the Chapter House. Odrade, faced with the destruction of several BG planes (like Lampadas, where millions died) is devising a new plan, keeping all the responsibility solely on her shoulders. Other BG Reverend Mothers are front & center and it’s great to get a glimpse into their society and rules of governing. Duncan Idaho – the ghola Duncan – continues to play a big part in this scheme as does Murbella, the only Honoured Matre to be captured by the BG, then join them voluntarily, until ultimately becoming Mother Superior. Of course, with twists at every step, the road is never clear, the plan is never fully revealed and the ending can very well be a new beginning. But that’s how the story goes – like Battlestar Galactica so deftly put it, all this has happened before and all this will happen again.

I’m really happy to have finished this book; what I’m not so happy about is that I just can’t do it justice. I can only say in terms of excuse that the plot is dense and the philosophy of it all can sometimes be a little too …cumbersome.

Another random bunch of movies

I guess I should start with happy new year, and follow-up by explaining that my reading habits have gone to the dump this past month. Seriously, I have about half of the last Dune volume, and then I’ll really be back…or so I keep telling myself. I can’t even blame it on House, I actually finished the entire series and now I’m anxiously waiting for episode 11 this coming Monday (it may very well be past its peak, but Hugh Laurie is 100% worth watching). I could try to blame it on the couple of movies I’ve seen recently – and of which I’ll be writing below…but it would be fairer to say I just was on holiday

Now then – this really is a random bunch – just stuff I’ve seen over the last couple of weeks. I’m once again trying to see all the potential Oscar noms as soon as I can get my hand on them, so this is as good a starting place as any:

Up in the air. First thing that crossed my mind after seeing this: it’s great to watch a grown up movie. Because it is, it’s not silly, ridiculous, or far-fetched, it has great performances, good dialogue and real situations to empathize with – and I think it’s something pretty rare. No special effects but a brilliant opening sequence, not forced happy ending but natural character development…and George Clooney is not just a “movie star”, he is an actor and I kinda love him for it.

A serious man. The last Coen brothers outing (Burn after reading) was slightly disappointing for me, even with all the big name cast…but after this, it’s all forgiven. Michael Stuhlbarg is perfect as Larry Gopnik, a perfectly clueless and baffled man hit with loss after loss, degraded and diminished with every minute and forced to come face to face with the absurdity of his existence. It’s less goofy than other Coen exploits, but it does have its moments of humor…and I would say it’s an insightful look into Jewish family and tradition, except that I don’t know much about either. But most reviews said it, so there has to be some truth in there. I for one loved it.

An education. This had me sold when I first heard the script is by Nick Hornby (and I can now say that it’s a pretty good one too ), but I wasn’t expecting the film to be so beautiful – beautifully shot, with such an attention to detail and some great images. The second trip to the 60s (the first being A serious man), this movie focuses on the coming of age story of Jenny (played by a much – and rightfully so – lauded Carey Mulligan) as she jumps from school and ambitions of Oxford into the arms of an older (and supposedly charming, but I have to say – and this is my only quibble with the movie – that Peter Sarsgaard didn’t particularly deliver) man. It’s clear from the start that no good can come of this, but it doesn’t make the story less compelling.

 Sherlock Holmes. I had been waiting for this for ages, being a fan of most people involved (Guy Ritchie, Robert Downey jr, even Jude Law on occasion) and after seeing it, my only impression is “meh”. I wasn’t crazy about the plot; I thought it went on for too long (maybe if they cut 30 mins or so?) but I actually had fun with the less classic-Holmes bits, like the fighting. Plus, the Holmes-Watson dialogue was quippy enough to be the main attraction of the film, since there never was anything real at stake (I think I’m paraphrasing from some review I read; but it is so spot on). If (or I should say when) they do a second I’ll probably be back, but with the bar set a bit lower. I guess it’s time to let go of my hope that Guy Ritchie will make another Snatch.

 

Diarios de motocicleta. Yep, I finally got around to this one and between this and Che (of which I’ve yet to see the second part) I think I’m fully up to date with my Che Guevara bio. The movie is pretty good: a road trip with beautiful scenery on the background, and the obligatory meaningful encounters.

Defiance. Another Holocaust story turned into a movie; this time the story of two Jewish brothers (Daniel Craig & Liev Schreiber) organizing a resistance in the Belarusian forests and managing to save over 1000 people in the process. This would all be very inspiring, except that I was bored out of my mind.

Brideshead revisited. If this is anything to go by, I made a good choice not to read Evelyn Waugh’s classic. Emma Thompson is lovely as always, but she can’t save this utterly lifeless movie.

And an oldie: Where the sidewalk ends. The typical markings of a noir: gritty detective, mobsters, beautiful dame a murder mystery and a troubled conscience all tied up in a perfectly balanced package. The first Otto Preminger movie I’ve seen – and definitely not the last, I was really caught in this one.

Happy holidays.

It’s end of year – and of decade frenzy. I’ve seen dozens of lists with the best shows, best books, best movies…or worst shows…etc. And now, even with all my love for lists….I’m quite fed up. No best of for me – it’s been a good year, a so-so decade, and I have no intention of recaping it.

But I do want to get out of my recent reading slump, so I plan to read the last 3 Dune volumes over the holidays And I wanted to thank Alin for writing about Witness for the prosecution – I really loved it!

So have a happy one!

Everybody lies

I’ve been MIA recently – and I’ve read only about 100 pages in a week – because I’m indulging my new TV obsession: House. I don’t like medical shows (yeah, Grey’s Anatomy is not a medical show it’s a downright soap) or procedurals (with the exception of Castle, but only because Nathan Filion is so damn charming) but I love House. I’m at season 3 currently, the cases are starting to get somewhat less exciting, but I just can’t get enough of the crazy doctor.

And because Hugh Laurie is just that good, I watched a couple of sketches from A bit of Fry & Laurie – very python-like (or is it pythonesque?), complete with Footlights roots – and I plan to watch the whole series (plus Jeeves & Wooster). I usually take the wrong way towards discovering great stuff like this – like…say…through a US tv show -  but at least I eventually get to them

I’ve also seen a bunch of movies, and I’ll probably write a bit about them tomorrow….but now I have to get back to the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

Nine princes in Amber

Had I been 12, or 14 this book really would have struck a chord. I used to read quite a bit back then, I was really into adventures of all sorts and I would have definitely fallen in love with Corwin. After all, he’s just the right amount of dangerous . The world of Amber is fascinating, the world of the shadows even more so. 13 brothers and sisters, one throne, one presumably dead parent, supernatural abilities (strength, telepathic communication), incarcerations and nearly impossible escapes – all point out to something a teenager (or at least this teenager) would have loved.

Unfortunately, I’m not 14 anymore. And I did find the book entertaining, but I don’t see much point in reading the next 10 (or so) volumes. Maybe it was the translation (I am usually quick to blame the translation, but this time I might be in the right; I mean, they even translated KFC!) or maybe it’s just not my cup of tea anymore. I would have liked to enjoy it more, but I have to say it wasn’t particularly engaging and the fate of the kingdom of Amber leaves me rather cold at this point.

Should I try the next volumes, or is this one a good sample of the whole series?

Nenhum Olhar [The Implacable Order of Things]

I was convinced by Dragos’s very enthusiastic review to try this book, so I went out and got it at the very first chance. And I did like it, but I can’t say I loved it. Somehow, it strikes me as the kind of book you like better a while after you’re read it – its meditative and lyrical tone are not exactly the stuff to keep you hooked, but more to get you thinking. Usually the second alternative is better, but since it’s (almost) December and thoughts of holidays, presents and treats are filling my head it would have been better to have gone for something light & fun. But at least now I know that’s what I want to read this month

In short, the book is about 2 generations of villagers and their plights. Most of the names are biblical – like Matthew the land owner, the Siamese twins Moses & Elias, Joseph (both father & son, both shepherds), Solomon, old man Gabriel and Judas, owner of the local tavern – but it is not God that rules over this small patch of land but the devil. Women, though ever-present in the book and just as caught in the implacable destiny are unnamed and, had I known more about the Bible, I would have been able (perhaps) to think up reasons why. The book is beautifully written and very poetically charged, there are repetitive passages, meditations on human condition and on death that are touching and worth remembering and the prose is graceful and effortless – reminding me a bit of Jose Saramago (in fact, Mr. Peixoto won the Jose Saramago literary prize).

I think: perhaps the sky is a huge sea of fresh water and we, instead of walking under it, walk on top of it; perhaps we see everything upside down and earth is a kind of sky, so that when we die, when we die, we fall and sink into the sky.

Each chapter begins with a 3^rd person narration of the main events, followed by a 1^st person perspective of the actors involved, so that you end up seeing from all the angles and understanding on several levels. It’s a nice trick, making you, as reader, feel omniscient – even more than the narrator. At the same time, the individual voices are not that different, they are all pained, all flawed, all wronged by the greater force who decided their path. The whole book ends up being a meditation on destiny, death and the ephemeral nature of life. The devil is a malevolent force and, in such a space devoid of faith, it is almost too easy for it to instill doubt and anger in people’s hearts. The little love that can be found is unrequited, untold or abruptly cut.

Salman

There really is nothing new to say at this point, except how excited I was on Tuesday and how nervous I was on Wednesday right before he signed my book (books actually, I brought 2, both with a personal significance: Fury because it was my introduction to the wonderful wonderful world of Salman Rushdie, and The ground beneath her feet, because that’s where I snatched my blog name from ).

He was such a nice and down to earth person (and slightly self-deprecating too) that I can only like him more. I love that he’s planning to write till he drops, how he talked about his literary influences (many of whom I’ve read and loved myself, some of which I plan to read from now on – like Saadat Hasan Manto) and how fun he was with his musings on superheroes and his coolness as a father. I’m sure they’re stories he’s told many times, but it’s different when you’re there. Of course, the reading was fun (and I’m a  sucker for his accent) and I appreciated how he underlined that there is a lot of humor in his work. It’s quite true that most people don’t expect it – all the more reason to try and discover him.

What I didn’t like….oh, but who cares! It was a great idea and I hope that this is only the beginning and that I’ll be seeing more of my favorite writers in Bucharest. Being subjective about the author (a fan, as I’ve said quite a few times before) I was sure I’d enjoy these 2 days, but I’m glad I wasn’t alone: at least Dragos and Ionuca seem to have been rather charmed