For whatever reason I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about circuses here lately.  A couple of weeks ago I finished reading Erin Morgenstern’s novel, The Night Circus*, (which comes out next month) and haven’t been able to shake the circus state of mind since.

On the back cover of The Night Circus was a blurb by Katherine Dunn who wrote one of my all time favorite books, Geek Love.  Geek Love is a tale “of the Binewskis, a carny family whose mater- and paterfamilias set out-with the help of amphetamine, arsenic, and radioisotopes-to breed their own exhibit of human oddities.  There’s Arturo the Aquaboy, who has flippers for limbs and a megalomaniacal ambition worthy of Genghis Khan…Iphy and Elly, the lissome Siamese twins…albino hunchback Oly…and the outwardly normal Chick, whose mysterious gifts make him the family’s most precious-and dangerous-asset.” -from the back cover of Geek Love.  I’ve only re-read a handful of books in my time and most of them were on accident but Geek Love is one that re-read on purpose and will probably read again sometime.

To add to this circus theme, Kaycie showed me this amazing coffee table book the other day that blew my damn mind.  Take a look:

I want to live inside this book.  I suppose there are worse things than having circuses on the brain.

* Erin Morgenstern will be at Lemuria signing and reading from The Night Circus on Monday October 3rd at 5:00.

by Zita

Roger’s concise to the point Hidden History of Mississippi Blues is condensed in a way that’s appealing to the blues fan and the novice. Interesting facts presented with Lou Bopp‘s fine photos are just enough for this little book. Most importantly Roger’s interviews with current Delta Blues musicians prove that this art form isn’t dying but thriving.

More living proof exists in Clarksdale this weekend when the crossroads celebrates the 24th Sunflower Blues Festival. It’s a favorite I try to make every year. Performers from Roger’s book will be playing as you can get authentic in the Delta heat. Porchin’ at Ground Zero, sweatin’ in Red’s (we will miss Big Jack) and attendin’ Cathead’s Mini Fest on Sunday are all treats. I always learn about some new music makers on Sunflower weekends.

Get your folding chairs and head up to Clarksdale. It will be hot so plan on a cool beverage and street grilled meat, smoking over sidewalk blues.

Read Roger’s book, check out blues markers (MS Blues Trail) and hear the real stuff that’s alive today. Roger’s Cathead Music Store and Shelly’s Delta Blues Museum are Mississippi institutions.

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For those who don’t know yet, our Pal Roger is working on a new DVD about saving the Juke Joint experience called We Juke Up in Here! Surely a great effort to support. Check out his project here and see if you want to join in and help with his efforts.

M for Mississippi DVDs and CDs are excellent examples if you want to know about his work first hand.

In the spring I was handed the ARC (advance reader’s copy) of a novel, yes, I did say “novel” starring Flannery O’Connor as a main character. Now, reread that previous sentence!  For those English majors of us who have read and studied Flannery O’Connor’s shocking and provoking  short stories for decades, I was fascinated.  And, in my case, as an adjunct English instructor at area colleges, I  have had the pleasure of introducing this controversial noteworthy Southern writer to inquiring students.  So,  I gave the book a cursory look.  I was dubious at best; yet, I was intrigued enough to begin reading the first novel ever involving the character Flannery.

For those readers who have not yet had the pleasure of reading any of Flannery O’Connor’s short stories, you must read a couple before starting this novel. We have several  good collections here at Lemuria. I would recommend your reading A Good Man is Hard to Find and Good Country People  to start. Once you have read these, you are now ready to begin this newly released novel, A Good Hard Look, this title, cleverly being a “take-off” on the title of the first short story title above. (Of course, if you just want to jump right in on this novel, and then read O’Connor’s short stories afterwards, then that will work as well!)

The point that I’m making here is that Ann Napolitano refers to Flannery O’Connor’s short stories throughout this novel, and, for that matter, the plot and the characters themselves often reflect O’Connor’s plots and characters in a very clever way. Suffice it to say: the characters are flawed by life, by turmoil, by desire, by boredom, etc., etc., and their actions are often reactions to their current life status; therefore, all sorts of “escape” occur as an  answer for them to run, run, run!

As A Good Hard Look begins, the reader is propelled into a Southern setting filled with glorious tailfeathers of numerous peacocks screaming their heads off on the eve of  the wedding of two of the main characters, the to-be bride having grown up with, but not been on good terms with Flannery. The irony does not escape the reader for long as he or she learns that these squawking preening peacocks belong to Flannery and her mother who live down a country road from town.

The much awaited beautiful perfect Southern wedding is now blemished before it even begins because “Cookie”, the bride to be, falls from her bed and hits her face causing a black eye to emerge, due to the very startling terrific screams of the peacocks—-essentially the fault of Flannery not being able to control her birds. So, the animosity that Cookie has always felt toward Flannery is fueled again.

Jump forward a few chapters and the reader learns that Cookie’s new husband from New York, essentially a “trust-fund” boy who really doesn’t have to work, becomes fascinated with the town’s favorite eccentric author and not only begins to read her short stories, but also develops a close relationship with Flannery even going so far as to drive out to her house fairly often, but “in secret,” not daring to let on to  his new wife who certainly would not like the idea at all.

Various sub-plots, such as a early middle-aged woman having an affair with a teenaged boy, plus various other controversial relationships, wind themselves throughout the plot. Tragedy strikes the novel, not once, but twice, both in a big horrific way. One does involve Flannery, her peacocks, her country house, and Cookie’s husband and his and Cookie’s new little baby girl.

The other involves a horrifying murder. “Shocking” should not be the operative word here, if one is in-tune with Flannery O’Connor’s short stories. As I mentioned earlier in this blog, the author Ann Napolitano, infuses this novel with hints of O’Connor’s stories. In other words, I would say that Napolitano has crafted a novel here which is “true” to the fine Southern author herself and her subject matter.

One last thing which struck me as noteworthy about this novel, and again, being familiar with O’Connor’s stories, enables me to make this observation: grace and redemption, maybe not in their full forms, but certainly in small doses, do ring true in A Good Hard Look, for some of the characters do find a way through their chaos to befriend and help their human, as well as animal friends.

Finally, I would also surmise that Napolitano also handles Flannery, the person, with respect, especially her debilitating bouts with the disease of lupus, which finally took her life in1962. This is a novel which Mississippians and other Southerners should read, for it does take “a good hard look” at one of our very most remarkable and talented Southern writers.

A Good Hard Look is our July First Editions Club Pick.

-Nan

The evening of August 4, 2011 at Lemuria’s events building was like no other evening. The evening was devoted to Ed Grissom, a lifelong customer of Lemuria with a lifelong passion for Ernest Hemingway. Lemuria owner John Evans recalls the events that led to meeting Ed 33 years ago:

About three years after I opened and moved Lemuria to Highland Village, a large strange man came to check out my collection of books for sale.

My memory tells me he wore a navy blue suit, he walked around a bit, scoped the layout of my store, and then parked his assertive self in front of the Nobel Prize winners bookcase.

He looked at the desk where Tom, Val and myself were learning the book business and blared out to all ears: “I guess you guys like Hemingway.” We said, “Yeah!” and from there my enduring friendship with J.C. Simmons grew. Soon his buddy, another Papa crony, showed up to check out the joint, and that was when I met Ed.

Besides the evening being a reunion of sorts for many old time customers of Lemuria, we marveled at Ed’s accomplishment in the most descriptive and complete Hemingway bibliography. John reflects:

Over my lifetime of bookselling, I’ve had the good fortune to meet many wonderful bibliophiles but none have embarked on a journey like my ole pal Ed Grissom. After a lifetime of learning all about Ernest Hemingway, Ed launched into the ultimate “Papa” project of which this extraordinary book is the result.

Ed brought some of his Hemingway editions that he has been collecting for 50 years. Starting the collection with a purchase of a friend’s personal collection, Ed gradually began to expand the collection on his own.

As he researched Hemingway and his books, he found inaccuracies in the most up to date bibliography at the time. Soon he began to inquire about writing a new bibliography. Book dealers were inquisitive about Ed’s questions; Academia dismissed him, thinking that the current bibliography was flawless.

Determined, Ed eventually made contact with the highly respected Fitzgerald scholar, Matthew Bruccoli. He was tough but gave his stamp of approval on the project. And finally on August 4th Ed could proudly stand with his bibliography in hand, having made it through many obstacles for which his life as a medical doctor could not have prepared him. John described his accomplishment well:

Remarkably, Ed’s passion came to fruition. It’s not everyday that in pursuit of your wildest dreams that there actually awaits that cup of gold. And for Ed his cup is filled with the publication of this ambitious project. I praise my pal for never giving up on his passion.

It’s been, oh, at least a few weeks since I last blogged about a baseball book…what can I say? Whenever I’m feeling a bit uninspired by the next book in my reading stack, I find myself gravitating toward the baseball section. I’m sure it’s possible to write a bad baseball book (I’ve seen them and know they exist), but I find the baseball section to be comparatively dense with great books.

This time I ended up with a book because of the author – Joe Posnanski. I remember seeing his book The Machine when it was released, and while I appreciated the fantastic cover photo of Pete Rose, neither the subject (the 1975 Cincinnati Reds) nor its author sparked any particular interest in me. I recognized Joe Posnanski’s name from Sports Illustrated, but otherwise was only tangentially familiar with his work.

Since then, I’ve become a fan of his writing through Posnanski’s online columns. Something about his writing resonated with me – his columns for the print edition of SI are a bit tighter, but in his online columns, he’s free to pursue the occasional digression or delve into the minutiae of a subject if there’s good reason to. Even in his ramblier moments, though, he is able to cut through the distractions and capture the most compelling angle (to me) on a subject. Now I’m subscribed to his RSS feed so I am sure never to miss one of his columns.

I did mention The Machine in an earlier blog, but only in passing, and I felt it deserved to be revisited. What’s amazing to me is that there are at least four or five storylines that could be developed into separate books – Sparky Anderson’s unconventional relationship with his players (he openly categorized players into “superstars” and “turds”), Joe Morgan’s development from being a “good little hitter” into the most complete player in the game, Pete Rose’s intense need to demonstrate his greatness, Dave Concepcion’s desire to be considered a superstar and not a turd – but to treat each story separately would de-emphasize how they all interact. Sparky Anderson’s caste system fed Morgan’s arrogance and Concepcion’s insecurity. Rose’s need to validate his own greatness was encouraged by Morgan’s constant reminders that he (Morgan) was the better player. Concepion would tell anyone who would listen that he was a superstar and not, in fact, a turd, but if Morgan or Rose happened to overhear, they would shout him down.

I’ll try to find some non-baseball books to blog about soon, but I make no promises. If you have a nearly insatiable appetite for baseball books like I do, be sure to add The Machine to your reading pile.