Black Deutschland by Darryl Pinckney

A young man searches for maturity in 1980’s Berlin

Jed, screwup son of an upper middle class Chicago family, comes to Berlin after rehab, to stay with his accomplished second cousin Cello, her German husband and her cute band of biracial boys.  Only he understands that sophisticated beautiful Cello was once chubby Ruthanne, music student who literally choked her way offstage at every recital.  Cello is being charitable, but Jed is clearly aware of his inferior status.  Meanwhile, he is fascinated by hot German men and by the mysterious philosophical architect who takes a shine to Jed.

I bailed on this one after attempting fifty pages a night for three nights, each night falling asleep about fifteen pages in.  This novel is a textbook case of the perils of the passive main character.  The tension never built and never even started building, I think, to any sense of emotional stakes.  I am still puzzling out why this happened as the setting was great, the initial setup with blood relative/twin Cello seemed fruitful, the narrator’s sometimes snippy tone and his pithy nuggets of information were interesting.  I believe it was because there was no orchestrated conflict between Cleo and Jed.  You can't build a novel on aphorisms.

American Copper by Shann Ray

The daughter of a stern copper baron defies her father by her choice of a man

Josef Lowry is a man “hard as granite,” a no nonsense son of an immigrant who has conquered the Montana copper market by his take-no-prisoners approach.  Suspicious of avaricious strangers, he cruelly destroys the family of his son’s intended wife.  A mining accident kills the son, and after that, his chastened daughter Evelynne immures herself in her room.  After several years she ventures into the world only to encounter two very different men, first the monosyllabic giant, horse trainer Zion, known as Middie, and then William Black Kettle, a Cheyenne rodeo rider.  Her father wishes her to never leave his side so Evelynne’s eventual choice of a mate, no matter who it is, will inspire murderous paternal opposition.

This novel began compellingly, clearly establishing the monumental Montana landscape, the furious wills of Joseph and Evelynne and the shared tragedy that forms them.  However, after those chapters, the reader gets becalmed.  Why on earth this sheltered rich girl would want to go live with a Cheyenne rodeo rider is not made clear.  She likes his hair, his masculinity apparently.  And why he, the future leader of his tribe, would want to live with a sheltered rich white girl is also not made clear.  There is a triangle love story and I don’t understand why she chooses William over Middie.  They seem like the same sort of stern resolute Western hero, although Middie struggles with his violent tendencies.  The historical details, however, such as the life of the Indians on the plains, were interesting.  The reader learns of how they coped with the authorities wanting to exterminate them.  In many ways a textbook historical novel,

To Rise Again At A Decent Hour by Joshua Ferris

A dentist finds himself stalked, and, in fact, chosen by a five thousand year old tribe of publicity shy agnostics

Paul O’Rourke, successful dentist in Manhattan, obsessive compulsive Red Sox fan, cannot figure out why he can’t achieve permanent (or even temporary) happiness. Throughout his life, he has found himself at times “cunt gripped,” obsessed by a woman who later rejects him, also becoming enamored of their large ethnic families. These families are connected to something larger, in many cases, a religion, even though rational Paul can’t go there. But he comes on too strong, too weird, and turns people off. Could it have something to do with the fact that Paul’s father blew his brains out when Paul was a child? Soon odd things starts happening, someone is impersonating him on the World Wide Web, creating a dental website and leaving optimistic posts on Red Sox fan sites. The stalking gets more personal and Paul takes action, only to discover something unusual about himself.  He is (or is he) an Ulm.  Now he must find out what an Ulm is.

This was right up my alley: God and the Red Sox, and I enjoyed the story quite a bit, including the hilarious first person slightly autistic digressions. As in Ferris’ previous novels, supernatural elements are seamlessly combined with the mundane details of modern daily life. The novel is also a social commentary on “me-machines” (cellphones), obsessive money making, men and women, and the significance (or not) of existence. The stakes are enormous. The life and death of humanity perhaps. Why do humans make significant meaning out of meaningless tragedy, why do some, ever optimistic, leap from bed in the morning to do good? Does it make a difference?

I love that the reader slowly realizes that Paul’s ex girlfriend, a poet, who he is still sort of obsessed with, remains in his employ as the receptionist in his office. Finally, he plays the dentistry metaphor like Paganini.

The Eumenides by Aeschylus

Tortured Orestes throws himself on the mercy of wise Athena

Orestes, pursued by the terrifying Furies after murdering his mother, journeys to Delphi to seek Apollo’s help in freeing himself from the unceasing torment. Apollo sends him to Athens where Athena convenes a jury of twelve freedmen to discover if Orestes truly deserves this horrible vengeance for the murder of a blood kin. After all, he was only asserting justice. The jury is tied, so Athena lets him go. The Furies object, but then Athena persuades them to move on from their primitive female-centric ways and join her in becoming the happy Guardians of the City of Athens.

Once again, the action is crystal clear, the theatricality imaginative and immense, the poetry tremendous, but this play, unlike the preceding two, adds additional level of meaning, a political one. Aeschylus is describing a civilized progress from a family based understanding of justice, to a society based understanding of justice. The gentle harmony at the end, the invoking of love, the purest opposition to the savage images at the end of Agamemnon. This play applauds the movement from the darkness of blood vengeance to the civilized light of Athena.

The Libation Bearers by Aeschylus translated by Robert Fagles

You can run, but you can’t hide

Orestes, exiled from Mykonos since his mother slaughtered his father and took up with his father’s cousin, is tasked by Apollo to kill the unnatural woman who has attacked the very seat of family and social authority. However, as Orestes well understands, the murder of one's mother violates the most basic human instinct and is everywhere regarded as taboo. On his return to Mykonos, Orestes leaves a lock of his hair at his father’s grave, hiding at the sounds of his sister Electra's approach with a retinue of once noble slaves. They bear libations to sooth Agamemnon’s soul, as apparently, years after her crime, Clytaemnestra feels the pangs of guilt. Electra recognizes the lock of hair, reunites with her brother and they sing a song of vengeance over the grave. Orestes disguises himself, kills the usurper, then after some back and forth, leads his mother offstage to kill her. He then displays to the chorus the bodies as well as the net the murderers used to entrap and kill his father. However, immediately afterwards Orestes is hounded by invisible Furies, outraged at this killing of a blood relative, a mother no less, and he takes off, stage left.

Once again the imagery is amazing and fresh, the conflict crystal clear and never sidetracked. The blatant theatricality felt very modern to me, maybe even very Broadway. These plays feel elemental to me, the human soul stripped down to its essence. Humanity crushed by society. Orestes has an impossible task -- torn between his sacred duty of obtaining vengeance for his murdered father and protecting his murderous mother. Such is life with no organized system of justice. I’ve been watching the Peter Hall productions on You Tube and I am learning how much of acting is in the body, not the face; in the voice, and not the eyes.

Agamemnon by Aeschylus; translated by Robert Fagles

A seething queen lies in wait to kill the king

For ten years, Clytaemnestra has been anticipating her husband’s return from the Trojan War.  Outwardly rejoicing at his arrival, inwardly she murderously resents his decision to sacrifice their daughter Iphigenia at the war's outset, in order to propitiate the goddess Artemis and summon the winds to blow the Greek fleet to Troy.  To make things worse, Agamemnon has brought back a present for himself, one of the spoils of Troy, Priam’s daughter, Apollo’s priestess, Cassandra the prophet.  Clytaemnestra honors her husband by laying down precious crimson tapestries for him to tread upon as he enters the house.  At first the King demurs, then acquiesces to the presumptuous idea.  Cassandra, dressed as a priestess of Apollo, refuses to speak.  The Queen enters the house, then Cassandra has a prophetic vision of death, her death, Agamemnon’s death, and all the previous deaths that have occurred in the house of Atreus.  She rips off her priestly garments, curses Apollo and goes inside.  The door to the house opens, revealing a ghastly scene.  Meanwhile, a chorus of old men comment on the action.

This was amazingly good, so profound, so angry at the evil in the world, and studded with amazing imagery.  The play is about war and the legacy of war.  There is also a strong feminist streak.  Clytaemnestra has had enough – she is going to overthrow the patriarchy.  The Athenian audience would contrast her with Penelope – one gone half mad with vindictive hatred and the other with hopeful loyalty.  The truths this 2,500 year old play tells about war and human nature are the same truths today.  The joy of the warrior at returning home; the resentment of the women at being pawns.  Women bear the brunt of the brutality.

The poetry is excellent, written by a soldier writing about war. One of the first images is the truly terrifying one of a gagged Iphigenia hoisted up like a goat to be slaughtered.  The echoes in the plot and the imagery are found in the framing story of the House of Atreus – the child murders.  The play is riddled with net and yoke images, of people trapped by fate and their own choices.  The King walks on the tapestries, the Queen stabs him to death.  The violence at home echoes the violence at Troy.

The Other Side by Lacy M. Johnson

A woman’s fortunate escape from a murderous ex-boyfriend colors the rest of her life

Lacy, a 19 year old college student, after a conservative childhood and a somewhat wild adolescence, begins a lengthy affair with her 38 year old Spanish instructor.  They move in together, he takes her to Europe, he educates her.  However, he is controlling and when he gets physical one too many times she leaves, returning with her father and a policeman to help reclaim her belongings.  That doesn’t sit well, and soon afterwards, the boyfriend meets her on the street, requesting a ride.  She agrees, but then he holds a stun gun to her neck, blindfolds her, brings her to a sound proof room, strips her, rapes her, then chains her naked to a chair.  Severely underestimating her persistence, however, he leaves the apartment (to get an alibi, he says), and she breaks her bonds and escapes to the police station.  Afterwards, he runs to Venezuela, where he cannot be extradited, although he does find time to send periodic emails asking her to drop the charges.  Most of the memoir concerns her attempt to create a normal life on “the other side.”

This memoir fell between two stools, I think, not really succeeding as a purely prurient thriller, (since there were too many momentum sapping chunks of “theory”) and then not really being a successful launch pad for deeper more philosophical musings on such subjects as power dynamics, family history and feminism. Although the book succeeded as a treatise on memory – for me that was almost the most interesting part of the book.  I learned a lot.  I disliked the labeling of each character: “The Older Sister”, “The Younger Sister”, “The Man I Used to Live With.”  Her description of her mother rang a little false to me – the reader infers Lacy had been a handful, but I didn’t really feel/understand that from the narrative.  Overall, the memoir reminded me of Room, which also had a prurient hook, but then played with concepts such as language and myth as well as displaying high technical writing skills.