For seven of the eight years since I started this blog, I
have made a short post about the books (and sometimes music) I received as
gifts for Christmas. (And in this case, also the used books I found in my
post-Christmas shopping.) In addition to being fun, it also serves as a teaser
for the reviews to be written in the upcoming year. As usual, I try to link the
reviews to these posts as I write them.
My brother (who has excellent literary taste despite liking
Dirk Pitt), got me this one in a nice used hardback edition. A number of years
back, I read and enjoyed the first book in the Cadfael Chronicles, A
Morbid Taste for Bones. This book is number 16 in the series by date of
publication, but isn’t considered part of the 20 in the official series. The
reason for this is apparently that it is set fully 17 years before the first
book, and is thus a kind of prequel to the main series. I assume it therefore
tells of the early days of Brother Cadfael. “Ellis Peters” is one of the noms
de plume of Edith Parteger, who wrote in a variety of genres, in addition to
translating works from Czech.
I have to confess that my brother also gave me a hardback edition of The Heaven
Tree Trilogy, a set of novels she wrote under her own name - and I have not yet
read any of it yet. I need to change that.
Another one from my brother. This one was recommended to him
by an acquaintance with Spanish roots, and is apparently much better known
there than here in the United States. Falcones is a lawyer who happens to have
written a bestseller. This one is set in the 14th Century, and is, if the cover
is to be believed, “A historical thriller.” Sounds promising enough. In
general, I have liked books written by lawyers, from Sir
Walter Scott to C. J.
Sansom, so that’s a point in this book’s favor.
My wife’s sister’s husband got this for me. This is an
unknown book and author for me, although it seems probable that I have read one
or more of his essays in The New Yorker over the years without paying
particular attention to the byline. McPhee is considered one of the pioneers of
“creative nonfiction,” writing that is factually accurate but utilizes literary
writing techniques to create compelling narratives. In other words, the kind of
nonfiction writing we take for granted now. This book is his seventh collection
of essays, published just last year. (Also, bonus points because it was
purchased at Warwick’s in La
Jolla.) McPhee’s style seems at a glance to be very much the sort
of writing I enjoy, so I may well end up reading more of his books.
This was a gift from my wife, and is one I have wanted to
read since it came out. If the Trump Era has taught me anything, it is that there
is a need for decent people to be actively antiracist, not merely “I’m not
racist” collaborators with white supremacy. Kendi’s short articles really
resonated with me, particularly his division of people into active racists
(like, say, Trump and Stephen Miller), those who consider themselves “neutral”
or “colorblind” - the “white moderates” MLK castigated, and true antiracists:
actively pushing back against racism.
This one sounds like a lot of fun. “A Survival Guide for the
Stranded Time Traveler.” North is also known for the Dinosaur comic, and his
Choose Your Own Adventure remixes of Shakespeare’s plays. So, well, a weird
variety of things. And definitely the sort of book I would read.
6. Music
As usual, an eclectic mix. My wife got me The Goat Rodeo Sessions, an epic
collaboration between Yo-Yo Ma, Stuart Duncan, Chris Thile, and Edgar Meyer.
I’ve listened to it on streaming, and it is nice to have a CD copy.
My wife’s brother has introduced me to a number of
delightful and non-mainstream artists over the years. This year, he got me no
fewer than four albums. First up was two albums by Tennis, namely Yours Conditionally, and Young & Old. I’ll admit I hadn’t
heard of the group, but my 16 year old had. Maybe I’m old? Next was Bon Iver’s
latest, i, i. Finally, he found a
promo copy of Future Me Hates Me by New Zealand
band, The Beths. I got a chance to listen to this one on our vacation, and I am
definitely digging it.
I’ll add a final one in, which wasn’t technically a gift -
except from myself. One of our local bands, the Jay Smith Group, released a
couple of albums this year, and I really love their collaboration with Marlon
Mackey (who sadly moved across the country so I don’t get to hear him in person
now.) Just Stop is well worth the purchase.
Let’s get
things started with this jem from the incomparable Emily Dickinson, one of my favorite poets. Few poets
can capture the details of nature in such brilliant fashion, and this poem
exhibits her talent at its best. Most of my life, I have lived in places
without show (well, except for that freak storm in 1999…), but I remember those few
years living in the mountains with fondness. (And we still go places with snow,
of course.) See if this poem doesn’t bring to life the amazing reality of a
fresh snowfall.
It sifts from Leaden Sieves -
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road -
It makes an even Face
Of Mountain, and of Plain -
Unbroken Forehead from the East
Unto the East again -
It reaches to the Fence -
It wraps it Rail by Rail
Till it is lost in Fleeces -
It deals Celestial Vail
To Stump, and Stack - and Stem -
A Summer’s empty Room -
Acres of Joints, where Harvests were,
Recordless, but for them -
It Ruffles Wrists of Posts
As Ankles of a Queen -
Then stills it’s Artisans - like Ghosts
-
Denying they have been -
A hike in the woods during a snowstorm.
Sequoia National Park, May 2019
This next
poem was one I discovered just a few months ago, while reading the sonnets of Edna St. Vincent Millay. That whole
collection was a revelation, and rapidly became one of my favorite
volumes.
Millay wasn’t
particularly religious, but wrote on religious themes. This one really hit home
for me, where Christmas is everywhere and in one’s face, but little of Christ
can be seen, particularly from those who speak his name the loudest. Christ has
become a prop, an idol to be used to justify cruelty and hate.
The sonnet
form is used to perfect effect by Millay. The first quatrain encapsulates the
commercialism contrasting with the reality of the first Christmas. The second
is a snapshot of the fake religiosity that ignores the gospel. I can’t decide
if the preacher is part of the problem or just ignored. “Honey and steel”
certainly seems like the worst of professional preachers. The shift then occurs
in line nine, as it should. The two tercets present the devastating reality.
Nobody listens; the words mean less than the wind. Christ is in effect, dead,
as he has had no effect. It’s not very optimistic, to say the least. But it
sure fits our own times.
This next
poem is an excerpt from a longer poem. A MUCH longer poem. As in, about two
thirds the size of Paradise Lost. I haven’t read the whole thing yet,
but now I really want to. This particular part really spoke to me. W. H. Auden paints such a realistic picture of the
post-Christmas experience. I can’t even decide what I like best. Maybe the “we
have seen the actual Vision and failed / To do more than entertain it as
an agreeable / Possibility” line? Or the part about going back to materialistic
assumptions? Or perhaps the last few lines. Hot dang, those are good. This is
just a great poem, any way you slice it.
Excerpt from For the Time Being
Well, so that is that. Now we must
dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their
cardboard boxes –
Some have got broken – and carrying
them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be
taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school.
There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the
rest of the week –
Not that we have much appetite, having
drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted – quite
unsuccessfully –
To love all of our relatives, and in
general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once
again
As in previous years we have seen the
actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an
agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent
Him away,
Begging though to remain His
disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His
word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading
memory,
And already the mind begins to be
vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension
at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot,
after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time
being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where
Euclid's geometry
And Newton's mechanics would account
for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I
scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the
holidays. The streets
Are much narrower than we remembered;
we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this.
To those who have seen
The Child, however dimly, however
incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most
trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered
so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew
the presents to be
Grew up when it opened. Now,
recollecting that moment
We can repress the joy, but the guilt
remains conscious;
Remembering the stable where for once
in our lives
Everything became a You and nothing was
an It.
I’m going to
call my choice of four poems a tradition. Hey, four years is enough to make a
tradition, right? I’ll end with Paul Laurence Dunbar. After the kind of bitter taste of
the two preceding poems, Dunbar’s exuberance and joy is refreshing. This,
despite living in less-than-ideal circumstances. (Despite his education and
obvious talent, he had to work as an elevator operator most of his life - Jim
Crow and racism in action.) This is the ultimate hope of Christmas - that one
day, all will be restored, healed, and made new. Ring out, ye bells
indeed!
For six of the seven years since I started this blog, I have
made a short post about the books I received as gifts for Christmas. (And in
this case, also the used books I found in my post-Christmas shopping.) In
addition to being fun, it also serves as a teaser for the reviews to be written
in the upcoming year. As usual, I try to link the reviews to these posts as I
write them.
As usual, I was given a number of intriguing used books by
my lovely and literary wife. I have wanted to read Strange Fruit for some time.
This 1944 novel tackled the then controversial topic of interracial marriage.
Living in California
in the 21st Century, it seems rather ordinary. But lately, there has been an
open return to vicious racism, including the claim that interracial marriage is
somehow “white genocide.” I plan to read this for Banned
Books Week this year.
This book has been on my library reading list for a while,
so when I found a used copy at the marvelous Grassroots Books in Reno, I snapped it up. I
have read a number of books about geology and geological history, in part
because the kids and I have been visiting national parks and
monuments here in the western United States, and geology is on display
everywhere. This book is about the map that lead to our modern theories of
geology - and revolutionized our beliefs about the age of the earth.
This book has been on my wish list for a while - I love
Wallace Stevens. My in-laws got me a Library of
America hardback edition. I can’t wait to dive in.
Another Library of America edition - this one was all of
four bucks at Grassroots. You bet I snapped this one up. Democracy: An American Novel has been on my list for a while, so I
am planning to start with that one. Adams was
plenty fascinating in his own right: descended from two presidents, he wrote
about political corruption. I’ll try to include more about him in my eventual
review of his books.
It would not be much of an exaggeration to say that Peter
Enns saved my faith. It would not be any exaggeration to say that Enns saved my
ability to read and enjoy the bible. After 40 years in the Evangelical
tradition, and seeing increasing fundamentalism,
where scripture was increasingly wielded as a weapon to abuse vulnerable
people, from immigrants and refugees, to the poor, from women to LGBTQ people,
I knew I would either have to change how I approached the bible, or leave the
faith altogether. Enns was a lifesaver - someone who pointed out what should
have been obvious: the bible doesn’t work as an instruction book or textbook of
systematic theology. And, in fact, the Evangelical approach to scripture is a
historical anomaly, out of touch with the long tradition of interpretation.
This book is one I have wanted to read. I suspect it will
cover a lot of the same ground as Enns’ blog, but in a more systematic manner.
Amanda got this for me.
This collection of short stories has been on my reading list
almost since I started the blog, yet I had never pulled the trigger and ordered
it. I was thrilled to find an inexpensive used copy at Grassroots.
A couple of years back, I listened to McCann’s novel Let
The Great World Spin on audiobook, and loved it. It really is fantastic
and compelling writing. I considered buying this one new, so I couldn’t resist
getting it used.
9. North America by Anthony
Trollope
Regular readers know I love Anthony
Trollope. I have yet to read his non-fiction, however. This two volume
hardback set was from Amanda. It looks fascinating.
I love Rilke. I previously read Anita Barrows and Joanna
Macy’s lovely translation of The
Book of Hours, so I look forward to exploring more. Amanda found this
one for me.
11. Thurber by Burton Bernstein
I love James Thurber, and have a fairly extensive
collection. (You can read my post about Alarms
and Diversions here.) This biography of Thurber promises to be a good
read. This is another one Amanda found for me.
***
A bit of music too:
My brother-in-law, who has eclectic and sophisticated taste
in music, got me the Punch Brothers’ latest, All Ashore, and Esperanza Spaulding’s Radio Music Society. I listened through the Spaulding once, and
want to immerse myself more in that music. And also give a good listen to the
Punch Brothers album. Three of the kids and I went to see them live in LA last
year, and they are fantastic.
Full disclosure: A member of the cast gave me a comp ticket
for this show. So assume I am horribly biased and all that. Of course, I always
blog about whatever the heck I want, and don’t claim to any sort of
objectivity. So take this review with the usual block of salt.
***
I’m not sure how many of my readers are American Idol fans.
I never really got into it, mostly because I just don’t watch much television.
(If you want to know how I read over a book a week, it’s because I decompress
that way, not with the tube…) But, at least for the first few seasons, I knew
enough people who cared, so I kind of at least kept up with what was happening.
For those of us from Bakersfield, California, it was season
three that mattered the most, because one of our own, Amy Adams, was a
legitimate contestant. Bakersfield
is an interesting place. Outside of California,
it would qualify as a pretty dang big city. The metro area has over 800,000
people, making it number 62 in the US. (By comparison, the city itself
is twice as big as Salt Lake City,
and the metro area nearly as large.) But, despite its size, it feels very much
like a small town. For example, both the legal community and the music/arts
community are close knit and mutually supportive.
Amy Adams on American Idol
And, relevant to this post, we really tend to embrace our
own. Look at Buck Owens, who drew a crowd at his nightclub up until his death.
(I had the honor of playing with him as part of a joint Buckaroos/Bakersfield
Symphony concert back in the day.) If you are from Bakersfield, and embrace us, we will embrace
you. It’s a thing I like about this town. Bakersfield’s
Amy Adams should not be confused with the more famous actor, Amy Adams. After
some success in Vegas and on tour, our own Adams came back to Bakersfield, had
a couple of kids, and got involved in our local scene, teaching and working
with youth. Which I think is pretty cool.
Amy Adams, more recently, with a bit less pink, but still with all the spunk.
I’ve reviewed a few shows at Stars
Dinner Theater before - it’s one of the longstanding local institutions
that tends to focus on the “usual suspects”: the standards of music theater.
Nothing wrong with this, and it has been a fun way for the kids to see some of
these live. I tend to be intrigued by the more offbeat productions, and it is
nice to see that they have branched out a bit lately.
This particular production was a double bill. The first half
was a one act adaptation of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol by Ed Hopkins, followed by a musical review put
together by Amy Adams.
Let me start with the Dickens. I have been a Dickens fan
ever since my mother read David
Copperfield to me and my siblings when I was about 9 years old. Since that
time, I have read ten of the major novels, all five Christmas novellas, and a
bunch of the short stories. For a decade or so, I read a Christmas novel every
year. Although I have a soft spot for The
Haunted Man, there is no doubt that A
Christmas Carol is in the pantheon of greatest stories of all time. The
kids and I watch the Muppet version every year, and it never gets old. (I am
also partial to the old Alistair Sim black and white movie. So classic.)
The fun, of course, for the writer and director, is how to
stage this story. Dickens is pretty long on description, which is better show
than told on stage. On the other hand, there are some amazing zingers in his
dialogue, which really should be preserved if possible.
I am happy to say that Ed Hopkins did a fine job of striking
a balance between drama and the original. All the lines I was hoping to hear
were preserved intact, and the occasional narration by Bob Cratchit was
likewise drawn from the original. As a one act adaptation, it was quite
enjoyable.
The key to any version of A Christmas Carol, is, of course, Scrooge. In this case, Kevin
McDonald played that part. I have mentioned his finework
in previous
posts. I was not disappointed in this production. McDonald captured the many
moods of Scrooge, from vicious cruelty, to fear, to irrational exuberance in a
memorable and riveting manner. I would be hard pressed to imagine a better
choice for this role. (Disclosure: Kevin comped my ticket, and is hilarious on
facebook, so I am undoubtedly biased. But I did like his work before I actually
met him online or in person.)
Amy Adams (The Ghost of Christmas Present) and Kevin McDonald (Ebenezer Scrooge)
I’ll also note the work of another online friend of mine,
Norman Colwell, who played the ghost of Jacob Marley. Norman spent several decades in radio and TV,
but really got into the stage late in life. Of his 77 total stage appearances,
71 have come since he turned 70. That is badass. And I loved his portrayal of
Marley, with a combination of deadly (or is that undead) seriousness and
slapstick humor.
Amy Adams took the part of the first two ghosts. Two
real-life couples played the central couples in this work: Peter and Gianna De
Keles as the Crachits, and Patrick and Karri McNeal as the Fezziwigs. I find it
fun when casting is done this way. The real life chemistry often bleeds into
the drama. I’ll also mention stage veteran Paula Einstein and Lindi Pellett as
the charitable organization representatives, and Brent
Starrh and Elizabeth Mackay as Fred and wife. I am not sure whether it was
Peter Antongiovanni or Evan Clason who played Tiny Tim on the night we went,
but he got the biggest applause of the night - and deserved it.
I am sure I am missing a number of other fine actors, but
such is the nature of a blogging hobby. I enjoyed it, and can’t think of any
sour note.
After the intermission, we got what was basically a musical
Christmas revue, with Amy Adams’ eccentric family as the subject. It is my
understanding that Adams co-wrote and directed
this portion of the production. My favorite part of this segment of the evening
was the music. With a cast of 20+, the arrangements were much more
sophisticated and interesting than a standard SATB pulled off the shelf. It
wasn’t clear if Adams did these herself, or
just found the arrangements and made them happen, but either way, I was
impressed. Stars generally has good quality vocal work (see Caley Mayhall
in Ragtime), but the ensemble
work was particularly impressive in this case. Adams
appears to have a knack for raising the level of performance. Both pitch and
ensemble were outstanding - as a musician myself, I noticed.
Let me also mention the fine work of the three piece live
band. Piano, bass, and drums. I know musicians are expensive and take up space,
but there is nothing like live music. Well done, guys, and thanks for your
commitment to art.
In any event, an enjoyable night.
Turning from the specifics of this performance, I want to
look a bit at Dickens and a theme that really stood out to me this time.
Anyone who has read Dickens extensively knows that behind
all the good humor and optimism lies a deep hurt. Even A Christmas Carol turns out to be a really dark story, if you think
about it. But for a bit of supernatural intervention, Tiny Tim dies, Scrooge
dies forgotten at best, and the Victorian economic machine continues to grind
the poor into dust.
There is a real life reason for this. There is a singular
event in Dickens’ childhood which he never really got over, and which keeps
appearing throughout his fiction. When Dickens was age 12, his father was
arrested and imprisoned for debt, ending Dickens’ education, and forcing him
into grinding child labor. In essence, this event broke apart their family, and
terminated Dickens’ childhood. Yeah, no surprise he never got over it. His dad
was just an expendable cog in the economic machine - never mind he was working.
His family was destroyed and his wife and kids thrown on the mercies of a
heartless society. Sure, Dickens survived and became a famous novelist. But
many more died as children, forgotten, and unmourned.
I was reminded of this at several points in the evening
entertainment. The first was when Scrooge himself spoke of his own trauma: his
mother died giving birth to him, and he likewise rejected his nephew Fred,
because Scrooge’s beloved sister Fan died giving birth to Fred. (One of those
mundane commonalities of the Victorian Era we tend to forget…) Soon afterward,
Scrooge turns a homeless boy out, scorning his carolling. Even in a Christmas
story, the menace of cruel fate and crueler humanity is front and center. (Of
his five Christmas novels, I think only The
Cricket on the Hearth is mostly good cheer, and even it has an undercurrent
of poverty. And damn, The Chimes is
so dark.)
Both the left and right have tried to claim A Christmas Carol as proof of their
particular politics. I rather used to think both had a point once upon a time.
Of course, that was back before the GOP went full social darwinist, so it
was... a different time. After more careful readings, though, I realized that
the heart of Scrooge isn’t really that of a smug liberal. (Although, to be
sure, there is plenty of approbation due to those who prefer their segregated,
gated neighborhoods while relying on government aid to assuage their personal
consciences.) Scrooge actually is the modern social darwinist in so many ways.
His cure for poverty?
Wait for it...PRISONS. And workhouses, where the poor are
put to slave labor for long hours in exchange for starvation food and housing.
Seriously, before you compare our modern safety net to Victorian institutions,
take a minute to research them. Socioeconomic status translated into literally
decades of life expectancy. As Scrooge himself said, “If they are going to die
anyway, they should do so quickly and decrease the surplus population.” It was
this idea of much of humanity being “surplus” that led to the imprisonment of
Dickens’ father. It is this idea of “surplus” which leads to the disdain for
impoverished refugees today. And more.
As Dickens points out, we might not really want to
categorize humanity as “surplus,” considering that we don’t really know that it
won’t be us ourselves who are truly the surplus. There is the strong hint that
Scrooge himself is “surplus,” one of those whom nobody will miss.
Two songs in the second half of this production tied in
perfectly with Dickens’ theme. The first was one of my all time favorite
Christmas songs: “Oh Holy Night.” I
wrote about this (and a few other carols) two years ago. Kudos to Amy Adams
and company for including those amazing lines from the second verse: “Chains
shall he break, the slave is our brother / and in His name, all oppression
shall cease.” Let us not forget that, while the American translation was
expressly abolitionist, the French original also focused on the oppression of
the poor by the powerful. Charles Dickens would approve.
The second song was one sung by Gianna De Keles, “My Grown Up Christmas List.” This modern song, written by
Linda Thompson (lyrics) and David Foster (music) was originally recorded by
Natalie Cole, although it didn’t really become at hit. As those of us with an
Evangelical background remember, Amy Grant’s 1992 version is the one which
propelled the song to prominence. Later, Kelly Clarkson (hey, there’s an
American Idol reference again) blew it all open in 2003 with her recording. In
any event, the lyrics are quite good, and speak to the age-old problem of the
way we tend to destroy the families of the poor, then blame them for it. Again,
Charles Dickens would approve.
Call me a sentimental fool, but I still wish for this. I
wish we would stop tearing lives apart in the name of (fill in the blank: mass
incarceration, border “security,” war, hate, racism, you name it.) I wish we
would put aside our ideas of what is “deserved” and start really looking at
what we do to children in particular. Perhaps, this Christmas, more of us can
find some empathy in our hearts and stop building walls - and build a bigger
table instead.
I suspect that the theater audience here in Bakersfield skews toward the “liberal” side,
for lack of a better term. (I’m still struggling with the idea that I somehow
am a Commie because I don’t embrace White Nationalism and Social Darwinism.)
But still, there was a certain political component to this production by its
very nature. You put that pinko Dickens on stage, and sing about Christmas and
the brotherhood of humankind, and, well, before you know it, you push back
against hate. It’s a beautiful thing.
Amy Adams has a fine voice. It definitely has a country girl
twang, so it is definitely a Bakersfield
type. I’m a musical omnivore, so I enjoyed it, but your mileage may vary,
depending on if you love or hate country. I appreciated that she didn’t feel
the need to grab the spotlight, but let everyone else shine, taking advantage
of her moments without acting like a diva. As I mentioned above, it was the
work on ensemble singing that impressed me most.
I’m going to go with the Amy Grant version of the song, just
for the 1990s nostalgia and my own memories. Long live the electric keys of the
era...they take me back whenever I hear them.
***
Do you remember me
I sat upon your knee
I wrote to you with childhood fantasies
Well I'm all grown up now
And still need help somehow
I'm not a child but my heart still can dream
So here's my lifelong wish
My grown up Christmas list
Not for myself but for a world in need
No more lives torn apart
That wars would never start
And time would heal all hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always win
And love would never end, no
This is my grown up Christmas list
As children we believe
The grandest sight to see
Was something lovely wrapped beneath the tree
But Heaven only knows
That packages and bows
Can never heal a heartached human soul
No more lives torn apart
That wars would never start
And time would heal all hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always win
And love would never end, no
This is my grown up Christmas list
What is this illusion called the innocence of youth
Maybe only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth
