Because I’ve been a lame reader this year and haven’t read much yet, I’ve decided to blog about what plan to read in the near future. Here’s what’s on my end table:
We Others by Steven Millhauser. This is on deck because Adie said this is a must read.
Last Sunday the NYTimes had a three page article about the dating scene in China. The article was a fascinating discussion of love in a modern age: if China is our future, it is a very love-lost place. Marriage is a commodity bought and sold. Alongside the wealthy paying for an agency to find their spouse, the working poor set up booths in parks advertising their viability as a spouse. If you happen to be an educated woman or a man without a Beijing apartment, your chances of marital bliss are slim.
Rereading Edna St. Vincent Millay’s sonnets, I was struck by the dichotomy of the two.
Millay brought the sonnet into the modern age with her sharp wit, but with the decline in “romantic” love, will her sonnets still be true in another 100 years? I would like to think yes, that alongside all of our social media relationships (are those even real?) we will be able to maintain some semblance of romantic love. We still have time to fall in love (the classic meet-cute) and out of it as well.
I think Millay was probably asking herself the same question. The 1920s-40s were a time of cultural change not unlike our own: the economic downturn of the Great Depression, the swelling growth of cities, the technological advancements that rapidly change the job market, the revolutions occurring across the globe (a democracy or republic is no longer the only accepted forms of government). Millay, the daughter of a single mother, fled to New York City where she fought to maintain her independence–love without marriage, marriage without sacrificing her career. Can a woman really have it all?
If I should learn, in some quite casual way,
That you were gone, not to return again–
Read form the back-page of a paper,say,
Held by a neighbor in a subway train,
How at the corner of this avenue
And such a street (so are the papers filled)
A hurrying man, who happened to be you,
At noon today had happened to be killed–
I should not cry aloud-I could not cry
Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place–
I should but watch the station lights rush by
With a more careful interest on my face;
Or raise my eyes and read with greater care
Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.
If you want to read more of Millay, her Collected Poemsare arranged by type and chronology–sonnets in the back, lyrical poets in the front.
A couple of years ago a friend of mine recommended that I watch a war documentary called Restrepo. My friend had been an infantryman with the 10th Mountain Division and mentioned to me that the film held particular importance for him as his old Battalion had taken a lot of casualties in the Korengal Valley. The documentary follows the 2nd Platoon of the Battle Company (2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry Regiment, 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team) as they are deployed to the Korengal Valley, first to the Korengal outpost and then later as they construct the Restrepo outpost.
It’s a stunning film. Too often war movies are praised for giving the viewer a realistic depiction of war. Reviews abound with phrases like “a gritty, raw first-hand view” or “exposes the violent and absurd nature of war.” Besides being seldom true, these phrases reveal something about what we expect (want?) from these films. The “realism” is restricted only to battle scenes. What struck me most about Restrepo was not that it caught the constant and overwhelming violence of war; on the contrary, it’s the lack of action that is unsettling. In the middle of the Korengal Valley, the “most dangerous place on earth”, the soldiers go about their daily tasks. The ever-present danger that surrounds the outpost becomes part of normal life. The moments of violence break into the mundane routine and the contrast makes them that much more powerful.
After watching the film I took note of the names of the two codirectors: Sebastian Junger and Tim Hetherington. Junger I was familiar with; he visited Lemuria for his book A Death in Belmont and I had enjoyed A Perfect Storm as well. But I wasn’t familiar with Hetherington before Restrepo. I looked him up and found incredible photographs from various conflicts and battlefields around the world. And then I learned that he had been killed a few months prior while on assignment in Libya, observing and recording the Arab Spring. Alan Huffman’s book Here I Am tells Tim Hetherington’s story. I was happy to see news of a book about Hetherington; I was even happier that Huffman was writing it. The man can write. Chapter 7 of Here I am opens:
When Staff Sergeant Kevin Rice saw the Taliban fighter taking aim at him with an RPG, he was on his hands and knees on a remote mountainside in Afghanistan, bleeding from his stomach and shoulder onto the ground. At that moment, Rice thought, “Wow, this is the last thing I’m going to see.”
Alan Huffman could have written a fine book about war, but in Here I Am he’s done something a little more complicated — he’s captured and communicated how Tim Hetherington saw war. At the end of Chapter 7 Huffman quotes from Hetherington’s book Infidel:
As anyone who has experienced it will know, war is many contradictory things. […] There is brutality and heroism, comedy and tragedy, friendship, hate, love, and boredom. War is absurd yet fundamental, despicable yet beguiling, unfair yet with its own strange logic. Rarely are people “back home” exposed to these contradictions — society tends only to highlight those qualities it needs, to construct its own particular narrative. Rather than attempt to describe the war in Afghanistan, I have sought to convey some of those contradictions.
If Hetherington sought to convey the contradictions in war, Huffman has the task of conveying the contradictions of Hetherington: a noncombatant seeking out every conflict and war, an artist looking for truth and beauty on the battlefield. Huffman writes:
Hetherington had felt a need to prove himself to the soldiers from early on. He was a journalist, a British guy, approaching middle age, among a group of rowdy, young, tattoed soldiers from California, Florida, New Jersey, and Wisconsin. He had a tendency to view war intellectually, with an artist’s eye, and in some ways he stood out as much as he had when he was the white guy on the motorcycle in Monrovia.
I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to finishing Here I Am and hearing Alan Huffman speak. If you haven’t seen it yet, watch Restrepo. Look at some of Tim Hetherington’swar photos. Read Here I Am, and join us on Thursday, March 28 at 5 PM for Alan Huffman.
I guess I can’t expect for you guys to understand how much I love Abraham Lincoln because none of you have to hear me gush about him on a regular basis like my co-workers do. But gosh y’all. I love me some old Abe, which is why I was thrilled to find out that a new book was coming out about his life! Even though the list of books about Lincoln is dangerously close to numbering 1,000,000,000, every now and then one comes along that claws its way through the rest and rises to the top (see: Team of Rivals). I believe that The Hour of Peril by Daniel Stashower might just be one of those.
That’s Pinkerton to the left of Lincoln. This was the first meeting of their Fancy Hat Club.
You all know how Lincoln died– his is arguably one of the most famous assassinations that has ever taken place, but what you may not know is that he came dangerously close to the same fate in 1861 while on his way to his presidential inauguration in Washington. This is what Stashower’s new book is about! Intrigue! Enter Alan Pinkerton, Irish immigrant, sassy dancer (or so I imagine), detective extraordinaire. Hired to protect the president and thwart any devious plots during their trip to the inauguration ceremonies, Pinkerton did just that– he thwarted with the best of them. Pinkerton is everything you want in a hero– he’s gruff and grimy and will do whatever it takes to save the president of the United States, dang it! After getting wind of an assassination plot that was planned to take place during the train trip from Springfield, IL to Washington DC, he struggled to pull together clues wherever he could find them in order to do what he did best- thwarting, even if that meant putting Lincoln’s life at stake at one point in order to do so. (I’m not going to tell you how though. Spoilers.) You may have already figured this out for yourself, but he was very successful in saving Lincoln’s life, which is rather important when you think about it, because Lincoln still had some pretty big stuff to tackle.
If I haven’t already convinced you to read this book, allow me to introduce you to Kate Warne, America’s first female private eye. She assisted Pinkerton with his assassination-thwarting plot, and was generally awesome. In the picture to the left, it’s argued that the person standing behind Pinkerton with that baby-smooth face is Warne. Woah lady, good job on that whole disguise thing. Fancy hats off to you.
Basically Pinkerton is famous for not only saving Lincoln’s life with his cunning expertise, but also for being the first real private eye in America. Pinkerton’s National Detective Agency’s motto was “We never sleep” written around an open eye, which is terrifying, but also totally awesome. Good for you Pinky. I like that this book is hard to throw onto the mountainous pile of literature about Lincoln because when you think about it, this book isn’t really about only Lincoln, it’s about Pinkerton and the birth of a new era of crime-fighting. I’m super excited about this because it offers a glimpse not only into an earlier time in Lincoln’s political career but also introduces who I feel to be a pretty important character in our country’s history.
by John Johnson, Jr. and Joel Selvin with Dick Cami
* * *
At a 1962 sixth-grade dance at the Riverside Park Clubhouse, I remember being 12 and trying to twist myself into being cool. I wasn’t alone. All my buddies and wanna-be girlfriends (the era of dog tags) were part of a national phenomenon, a craze that lit up all of America. The twist became a major catalyst to the sexual liberation of the ’60s.
The twist taught all of white America to loosen up, to shake your bootie. For once the girls did not have to follow their partners. Roots were planted for the women’s movement and the sexual liberation to come. The twist became a land mark in American music.
Ground zero for the “Twist Atomic Bomb” was the Peppermint Lounge, the center of its universe. The Peppermint Twist Lounge laid the blueprint for future night clubs. It was the first famous rock-n-roll club. Twisting waitresses were the prototypes of the 60s Go-Go Girls, who in white boots, pony tails and skimpy attire, were suspended in cages over the dance floor moving in the flashing strobe lights.
Johnny Otis discovered Hank Ballard and his gang The Midnighters (famous for “Work with Me Annie . . . give me all my meat”). In 1958, Ballard took his twist to the King record studio using a Jimmy Reed shuffle feel, and birthed his tune. King Records decided that a young chicken plucker named Ernest Evans should record Hank’s song. That young singer, Ernest, who needed a star’s name, sang a great Fats Domino impression. So his name was changed to Chubby Checker. The rest is music history.
Dick Clark dug the Twist and used his American Bandstand to fuel the fire of Chubby’s craze. “Just pretend you are wiping your bottom with a towel and putting a cigarette out with both feet.” His record zoomed to maximum popularity.
Joe Dee and The Starlighters became The Peppermint Twist lounge house band. They hit it big with the Peppermint Twist. The Starlighters packed-house-jive was fueled by the Peppermint Twisters which led to rail dancing and eventually to the Go-Go Girls at L.A.’s Whiskey A Go-Go.
Driven by the success in New York City, Peppermint Lounge Miami was next. Dick Cami brought his amazing success formula to the heart of the Chitlin’ Circuit. Miami Lounge became stops for Sam and Dave, The Coasters and other black entertainers.
Celebrities from JFK to the Beatles, Frank Sinatra toting along his rat pack, Capote, Lenny Bruce, and many more all wanted to have fun under the candy cane ceiling. It was the coolest scene in the country. To say the Peppermint Lounge was ground breaking barely touches the influence of this landmark in American culture. The twist loosened up the 50s and especially us white folks.
Although the music itself is reason enough to read John Johnson’s Peppermint Twist, you’ll be fascinated by cultural, historical, and business escapades. The cultural phenomenon that rose out of The Peppermint Lounge was never meant to happen. The lounge was actually created to be a front for the mob, place to hide their wheeling and dealing. This part of the story is also told in detail and makes this era’s tale Godfatheresque.
I’ve shared a few tidbits of info I gathered from this fine book. Treat yourself to Dick’s story, pull out your 45s and enjoy twisting the night away.
Because I’ve been a lame reader this year and haven’t read much yet, I’ve decided to blog about what plan to read in the near future. Here’s what’s on my end table:
We Others by Steven Millhauser. This is on deck because Adie said this is a must read.
There Once Lived A Girl Who Seduced Her Sister’s Husband, and He Hanged Himself by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya. Her previous book of short stories was quite amazing.
If I haven’t already convinced you to read this book, allow me to introduce you to Kate Warne, America’s first female private eye. She assisted Pinkerton with his assassination-thwarting plot, and was generally awesome. In the picture to the left, it’s argued that the person standing behind Pinkerton with that baby-smooth face is Warne. Woah lady, good job on that whole disguise thing. Fancy hats off to you.
