Skip to main content

Barely Making a Dent: January 2017 Books


In which our narrator tries to read his way through the endless stacks of books that are slowly overtaking both his bookshelves and his life.

*****

[The following conversation never happened, at least not between two people, but let's pretend it did anyway.]

Hey! How's that new tall bookcase working out for you?

Splendidly!

Lots of room for future acquisitions, I imagine.

Oh, yeah...well, it's already pretty full. You see, once I shifted some things around and emptied an old bookcase to set aside for the kids, I filled the sucker up pretty quickly.

Oh.

There's still room to fit more books, never fear. Plus the small bookcase next to it also has room. 

I bet that'll also fill up quickly, though.

[sighs] I need to start reading more on my iPad, huh?

But you love actual books.

True. I like reading on my device but I love the tangibility of books. I always carry at least one around in my messenger bag, nearly everywhere I go. I enjoy reading on a device, but switching away from physical books is not likely to happen anytime soon.

You're old school.

When it comes to books? Yeah, probably more so than I am with, say, music. I never dreamed I'd stop playing full albums regularly or spinning them on CD or in iTunes, but today I do most of my music listening through streaming services and YouTube.

But that isn't going to happen with books for you?

I don't see it happening, no. Then again, I didn't see it happening with music either, yet here we are. If it were to happen with books I'd need a new iPad with far more storage than my current one has.

Changing topics, what's up with that header image?

I don't know where I first saw it, but the image always struck me: Marilyn Monroe reading an upside down book, to the consternation of the dapper gentleman next to her. It's from How to Marry a Millionaire, a film I haven't seen but really should one of these days. So I don't know the scene, but as an image it always seemed powerful to me. I just like the joke of her reading it upside down—something about it makes her seem more worldly, instead of less so, as you might expect out of this situation. Again, I don't know the context of this moment in the film, do you?


Nope, never saw it.

We're losing our film nerd cred here. Anyway, great image, right? Plus, it's Marilyn, you can't go wrong with Marilyn.

So are you going to continue utilizing other book-related, seemingly random, images for this series?

That's the plan. I have some good ones for future posts already. If you have any suggestions, send them along to me and maybe I'll use them.

That's a classic look Marilyn's got going on there.

Absolutely. She looks sharp there, like a dame with real class. She was a huge reader, a lover of literature and culture. So when you're looking for images of people reading, you'll find several with her. The one above even has a pun that makes me laugh every time, and I don't even like puns: "abroad" vs. "a broad." I think if I could travel back in time I'd visit Marilyn just to sit with her and read, surrounded by books in her library. That would be fun.

Such a romantic. I'm sensing a potential "The Many Books of Marilyn" series of posts from you next. But you should really start to talk about the books you're reading now, no?

Hmmmm. That might be a photocentric series, with little commentary besides gushing about how great she looks in every picture. I also stumbled on other images of famous people reading, including some cool shots of the always cool John Waters. Anyway, you're right, I should get to the books at hand here. Clearly this overly precious narrative device, with us bantering about whatever, is influenced by the first book discussed here, specifically the chapter featuring the author's highly fictionalized recounting of a Real World audition interview. And that book would be...

Recently Read

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, by Dave Eggers. Over the past decade and a half I've held this book in my hands countless times at various bookstores, even reading through long passages while plopped comfortably in one of those luxurious chairs you only find in bookstores. Yet somehow I've never taken the plunge and bought the book. The reason is simple: early in the 2000s (it was published in 2000), I was actively trying to distance myself from the 1990s. Move on, I said. Give away those flannels to Goodwill. I saw Eggers' memoir/creative nonfiction/free-form rant of a book as so emblematic of those years—the story takes place throughout the '90s—that I just couldn't make myself revisit it. I was afraid I'd recognize too much of myself, or my generation, in it, thus confirming every stupid cliche that had been thrown at us throughout that decade.

Since finding the book at the public library and blowing through it in just a few days (holiday vacations are a splendid thing), it certainly confirms several '90s-isms. I'm far enough removed from that time that I'm ready to face them now, though. It's actually refreshing, comforting, and even challenging to be confronted with the sorts of things people our age (Eggers is about five years older than me) were concerned with and obsessed over back then.


It certainly is heartbreaking. It's also staggering. There are times when it seems like the work of a mad genius, for how well Eggers hones in on what it was like being young and stupid in the '90s. So the title, while ironic, is also not too far off the mark. The book is one long meditation on loss and grieving. In Eggers' case it was his parents—both dead from cancer within a month of each other while he was in college. Nearly everything that comes after those opening chapters is a reaction to that loss. The events also serve as reminders of an era not long past, yet one that often feels like eons ago now. He sets out to change the world by starting a magazine! He tries out for Real World and meets Puck! He angles for a one-night stand with a famous sexologist! He fails at all of these endeavors! Could it be any more '90s?

Eggers takes the memoir format and turns it on its ear, with fourth-wall breaking tangents and fictionalized and stylized accounts of his life (and letting the reader know they're fictionalized). He and the book are self-absorbed and entirely aware of this self-absorption. It's infuriating and intoxicating, exhausting and electrifying. I can see now why the book caused such shock waves in 2000, as Eggers truly delivers a unique spin on what was already becoming a tired genre. Memoirs are often tedious and irritating. Eggers (or the version of Eggers who narrates the book) might be plenty irritating at times, but neither he nor the book are ever tedious. It's full of life, exploding with life, in fact. Which is ironic, because it's all shaped by death and loss.

Currently reading

Afrofuturism, by Ytasha Womack. This one's for the "space cadets," as Womack would say. It's a gloriously bold and exciting romp through the fantastical worlds of Afrofuturism. If you haven't been paying attention then you might be surprised just how pervasive the literary and cultural aesthetic known as Afrofuturism has become in recent decades. In this helpful primer, Womack shows how much the style has impacted the visual arts, music, literature, etc. Today, popular artists like Janelle Monae, along with fictional works like Black Panther and Womack's own Rayla 2212, are helping to expand Afrofuturism's reach and influence.

Womack is a fine writer, with an effortlessly engaging style. She's a terrific tour guide through the various worlds of Afrofuturism, from science fiction to fantasy, funk to jazz, Afrocentrism to magical realism and beyond. Reading the book is like being in an Afrofuturistic Doctor Who, with Womack as the Doctor and the reader as her companion. We're hurtling through time and space while she's opening our minds to concepts and ideas that we'd never contemplated in that way before. She's a geek and readers with an interest in this subject (like yours truly) will geek out at her geeking out. She's a writer I'll be keeping my eye on in the future (pun intended).

This interview with Bitch Media  from a couple years ago, around the time the book was published, will give you an idea of what she's exploring in Afrofuturism. Be prepared to fall down the rabbit hole, especially if you follow Janelle Monae's Ten Droid Commandments, including: "Abandon your expectations about art, race, gender, culture, and gravity."

*****

Lastly, I apologize for that Eggersian tangent at the start of this post. Mine doesn't get nearly as weird or self-involved enough to merit much comparison at all. Still, I couldn't resist even a watered-down homage.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Blowing in the Wind: Marilyn Monroe and That Iconic White Dress

This month marks sixty-five years since one of the most iconic moments in twentieth-century popular culture: Marilyn Monroe’s angelic white dress being blown sky high by wind rushing up from a subway grate beneath her feet in the film  The Seven Year Itch . Billy Wilder shot multiple takes, while Sam Shaw snapped photo after photo for what had to be the biggest publicity stunt ever staged at the time. Marilyn wore two pairs of underwear for the shot, yet, as noted in Lois Banner's critical biography Marilyn: The Passion and the Paradox  (2012), "a dark blotch of pubic hair" remained visible to the 100 male photographers and over 1,500 male spectators, all of whom crowded eagerly around the set to gawk and drool.  Due to strict 1950s movie censorship laws, photos had to be doctored to white out the offending blotch, but those in attendance saw it, over and over, shot after shot. Marilyn's husband at the time, the extremely old fashioned Joe DiMaggio, stormed off th

All I Want For Christmas: Phoebe Cates's Monologue in Gremlins

Joe Dante's 1980s classic Gremlins will always be a subversive Christmas favorite. From Spike exploding in the microwave to Mrs. Daigle's "stairlift to hell", the movie is packed with deliciously transgressive moments that turn the holly jolly season right on its ear. None are more memorable, though, than Phoebe Cates delivering her legendary "worst thing that ever happened to me on Christmas" monologue. It's a jaw-dropping, tour-de-force moment, a truly horrific story that's also one of the most darkly comic moments in Christmas movie history. Cates really shines during this scene. There's no denying just how seminal that scene of hers in Fast Times at Ridgemont High was for a generation of young people, but her speech in Gremlins is equally important and a wonderful showcase for her serious and comedic acting skills.  Here's the speech, in its entirety. No Christmas season is complete without at least one viewing

Misspent Youth: Joanne Whalley

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. One of the most famous and oft-quoted Seinfeld scenes involves Bobka and Jerry's discovery of the existence of Cinnamon Bobka. After Elaine scoffs at the notion of such a thing, even calling it a "lesser Bobka," Jerry unleashes one of the great defenses of a freshly ground spice ever delivered: People love cinnamon. It should be on tables at restaurants along with salt and pepper. Anytime anyone says, "Oh This is so good. What's in it?" The answer invariably comes back, Cinnamon. Cinnamon. Again and again.  Joanne Whalley is like Cinnamon. Yes, I just compulsively double-checked my DVD copy and it's the unrated version, thank you very much. Let me explain. You see, during the formative years of my misspent youth, if I stumbled on a movie featuring the doe-eyed, petite, beautiful English actress, invariably I'd feel like Jerry does about Cin

"That girl looks just like Pat Benatar"

Linda, that girl looks just like Pat Benatar. I know. Wait, there are three girls here at Ridgemont who have cultivated the Pat Benatar look. I was just a kid when Fast Times at Ridgemont High opened in 1982. Still though, even at the tender young age of seven, I knew who Pat Benatar was, because a.) her music was all over the radio and even then I recognized the utter awesomeness of her vocal talent in songs like "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", and b.) some of the older girls around town were obviously cribbing their looks—clothes, hair, makeup, strut—from Benatar's own style. Benatar was ubiquitous. So, when I see or hear vintage-era Benatar now, I think of Fast Times , but mostly I remember that ubiquity—of both the performer and her legion of young imitators. I know it's not true, but when I recollect those years I swear every older girl looked like either Benatar, Juice Newton, or Joan Jett. It's easy to forget, years later, that

Misspent Youth: Randi Brooks

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. ***** A note on the series and this site: This might be the final post in the "Misspent Youth" series - at least here. Maybe it'll eventually move with me. Oh, right, I buried the lede: I've moved, and would love for you to come visit me at my new site, The Starfire Lounge ! Moving forward, this site will likely cease to be updated, but will remain around for posterity and your continued reading pleasure. I have a few more things to post here over the coming days or weeks as a sort of "everything must go" send-off to the old girl. I also plan to write a final farewell post to my main online home for the last five years. Stay tuned and, as always, thanks for reading. ***** It's no surprise that the talented but now mostly forgotten Randi Brooks would make an appearance in the Misspent Youth series. She may not be a household name, but her resume

Misspent Youth: Morgan Fairchild

Looking back at the movies, music, television, and other pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. Once I decided that Morgan Fairchild would be the subject of the next installment in this series, I did what I usually do and researched online for a bit, just to refresh my memory on details that might've previously been lost to time. Morgan Fairchild was legitimately one of the most potent sex symbols of the 1970s and '80s. Not that I needed much refresher when it came to Fairchild. Born Patsy Ann McClenny in Dallas, Texas, February 3, 1950, the American actress was everywhere during those oh-so-crucial formative years of my pop culture obsession. She loomed large in the growing ranks of proto-haughty glamour queens, a trope that was hot on prime time TV in the 1980s. The characters she was most well-known for were drop-dead gorgeous and didn't suffer fools lightly. Really, few ever did it better than Fairchild. The shirt do

It Came From the '90s: My Secret Crush on The Nanny

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. For six seasons in the 1990s, The Nanny made many of us laugh. At times, it could be downright hilarious . At others, well, not so much . This isn't a review of a '90s sitcom staple, though. No. This is simply an excuse to come clean about something I've kept buried deep inside for over two decades now: I had a secret crush on The Nanny herself, Fran Drescher. The unadulterated nineties-ness of this is practically blinding. And I love it. While The Nanny was sometimes quite funny, thanks largely to Drescher's spunky charisma and wholehearted commitment, the show was never considered hip. People my parents age seemed to love it, but my friends preferred, well, Friends . That smile! Those legs! That dress! It's all overloading my circuits. I watched Friends with my friends, but I also thoroughly enjoyed The Nanny , to

Margot Kidder and the Childhood Crush That Will Never Die

"I dream about sex, flying, and being chased by Nazis." — Margot Kidder,  Rolling Stone , "The Education of Margot Kidder", 1981 ***** File that quote under, "Reasons why I love Margot Kidder." Last month, Margot hopped a one-way flight with old pal Chris Reeve off into the stars and beyond, where they could reenact their iconic moment from  Superman  (1978), for all eternity. I wrote a little about Margot, here and here , trying to explain why this particular actress meant so much to me as a kid growing up in the 1980s. I thought that would be enough. It wasn't.* Those posts were my fumbling attempts to sort out just how large an impact Margot had on my young life, and, to my present-day surprise, how much she still means to me now. Before news of her death, I hadn't thought of her in ages. I assumed the early childhood crush I harbored for my Lois Lane had dwindled and faded. Ha! I was a fool. My crush on Margot was very

It Came From the '90s: Kelly Bundy and the Alternative Family Ideal

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. Very few television series in the 1990s were as polarizing as Married...with Children . People either loved it or they loathed it. TV critics and good upstanding Catholic families like mine fell into the latter category. Soon after it debuted during my first year of junior high in 1987 (not quite the '90s, but on the brink), my parents made it clear that we would not be watching. I believe the words they used were "vulgar," "unfunny," and, one of their perennial favorites, "risque." Of course, this meant it immediately took on a prurient appeal for me. Parents can never win, honestly. Kelly Bundy—the talented Christina Applegate, who never gets enough credit for elevating the blonde airhead trope into an art form—only further piqued my interest. She was like the girls in school with the absurdly voluminous hair and ridiculously sh

My Favorite Death Dealer: Kate Beckinsale

"I dropped out of Oxford, and now I only speak Russian with the woman who gives me a bikini-wax. See what Hollywood does to you?" "Apparently, I'm very good at firing a gun without blinking, which is unusual. That's why so many action characters have to wear sunglasses during shoot-out scenes. That's my party trick." "Someone once said that you can make the choice between getting old and getting creepy, and I think getting old is the way to go." ***** Before I begin, here's a haiku that took me at least ten seconds to write: Ah, Kate Beckinsale.  We'd gladly live with you, in your Underworld Yeah, so, I'm a fan. I've always been a fan of Kate Beckinsale, especially as the vampire Death Dealer Selene in the action/horror franchise  Underworld  (five films and counting now) and as a young upwardly mobile publishing professional in Whit Stillman's masterpiece of earl