'Tis the Season to Be... AWOL VIII
Tomorrow I get on a plane to northern Wisconsin to spend July 4 and my father's birthday with family. Then I get on a plane to Houston for some work-related meetings. I'll be back in the office and online next Tuesday.
While I hope to update Media Diet while traveling, if I don't, that doesn't mean that Media Diet is dead (long live Media Diet!). It just means that it's resting.
Tuesday, July 02, 2002
Shelf-Publishing II
Well, today I mail the last batch of photocopied material I think should be excerpted and reprinted in the anthology I'm editing for Capstone-Wiley in the UK. Now it's a matter of negotiating with the publisher to pick the final selections and securing permissions from the respective authors and publishers. Feels good to have taken another step toward completing this project. We'll see how the book turns out!
***
On a totally unrelated note, have you ever met someone online, been intrigued by their discussion forum posts and instant messages, called 411 to get their phone number for possible future use, and printed out everything they've written on the Web so you can read their body of work on a plane? Um, me neither.
Well, today I mail the last batch of photocopied material I think should be excerpted and reprinted in the anthology I'm editing for Capstone-Wiley in the UK. Now it's a matter of negotiating with the publisher to pick the final selections and securing permissions from the respective authors and publishers. Feels good to have taken another step toward completing this project. We'll see how the book turns out!
On a totally unrelated note, have you ever met someone online, been intrigued by their discussion forum posts and instant messages, called 411 to get their phone number for possible future use, and printed out everything they've written on the Web so you can read their body of work on a plane? Um, me neither.
From the In Box: Faceless, but in Front of the Fans
I don't think that's all that new, though. There have been performers who are purely industry creations for ages. I guess the Monkees are the most famous, but if we could remember more, it would disprove the point that there have been faceless generitrons for as long as there's been a music industry.
Plus, isn't it a little early to credit Kurt Cobain with being old-school?
I think the nature of the world is that there will always be a lot more people than there are notable people. Replace the names Graham puts forth with the one or two hit wonders of yesteryear and I don't think she's got much of a thesis at all. Do you remember who the members of REO Speedwagon were? What about Toto? The Fixx?
I'm not saying that there's nothing different today, but just that at first blush, I'm not so sure she's framed the phenomena so well. None of the groups she named are today's "the Who", so of course none of them will be remembered like John Entwhistle. -- Joe Germuska
I don't think that's all that new, though. There have been performers who are purely industry creations for ages. I guess the Monkees are the most famous, but if we could remember more, it would disprove the point that there have been faceless generitrons for as long as there's been a music industry.
Plus, isn't it a little early to credit Kurt Cobain with being old-school?
I think the nature of the world is that there will always be a lot more people than there are notable people. Replace the names Graham puts forth with the one or two hit wonders of yesteryear and I don't think she's got much of a thesis at all. Do you remember who the members of REO Speedwagon were? What about Toto? The Fixx?
I'm not saying that there's nothing different today, but just that at first blush, I'm not so sure she's framed the phenomena so well. None of the groups she named are today's "the Who", so of course none of them will be remembered like John Entwhistle. -- Joe Germuska
Faceless, but in Front of the Fans
In today's Globe, Renee Graham contends that most rock stars and musicians today are nameless, faceless generitrons who won't be missed when they die. She compares the Who's John Entwistle, who was widely eulogized, with such anonymous auteurs as Nickelback's bass player, Creed's drummer, Hoobastank's guitarist, Default's lead singer, and Linkin Park's turntablist.
Renee's got a point. Bands are bands these days. And so many are corporate creations -- and styled after similar bands -- that the world is awash with unidentifiable cookie-cutter copycats. Add to that replacement members -- Iron Maiden, anyone? Van Halen? -- and it almost doesn't matter who's in a band. The band retains the name. Renee holds up bands like U2 and the Red Hot Chili Peppers as musical groups who rise above this aural anonymity -- as well as a whole slew of old-school rock and pop personalities: Keith Richards, Joey Ramone, and Kurt Cobain. All of the above attract their own followers in addition to the fan base that resonates with the band as a whole.
What intrigues me about Renee's thesis is its parallels to the local rock scene. Sure, if you're involved in a scene, you'll know who's in what band -- and what they're like. But so much local music is still band-centric or sound-centric. The people are secondary. We could learn a lot from the jazz scene, which has always focused on individual players and reveled in the innovations and intricacies that result when people move around and play with other people.
I'm not saying that individual players should be more celebrated than bands in the rock world -- who would I be without the Anchormen? -- but that people should share their personalities, pursue strong stage presence, and perhaps align themselves with creative collectives such as Handstand Command, the Elephant Six, or Initech. As individual participants in a given band or scene, we should share our strengths, strive to be supportive, and stand out from the predominant cookie-cutter crowd.
In today's Globe, Renee Graham contends that most rock stars and musicians today are nameless, faceless generitrons who won't be missed when they die. She compares the Who's John Entwistle, who was widely eulogized, with such anonymous auteurs as Nickelback's bass player, Creed's drummer, Hoobastank's guitarist, Default's lead singer, and Linkin Park's turntablist.
Renee's got a point. Bands are bands these days. And so many are corporate creations -- and styled after similar bands -- that the world is awash with unidentifiable cookie-cutter copycats. Add to that replacement members -- Iron Maiden, anyone? Van Halen? -- and it almost doesn't matter who's in a band. The band retains the name. Renee holds up bands like U2 and the Red Hot Chili Peppers as musical groups who rise above this aural anonymity -- as well as a whole slew of old-school rock and pop personalities: Keith Richards, Joey Ramone, and Kurt Cobain. All of the above attract their own followers in addition to the fan base that resonates with the band as a whole.
What intrigues me about Renee's thesis is its parallels to the local rock scene. Sure, if you're involved in a scene, you'll know who's in what band -- and what they're like. But so much local music is still band-centric or sound-centric. The people are secondary. We could learn a lot from the jazz scene, which has always focused on individual players and reveled in the innovations and intricacies that result when people move around and play with other people.
I'm not saying that individual players should be more celebrated than bands in the rock world -- who would I be without the Anchormen? -- but that people should share their personalities, pursue strong stage presence, and perhaps align themselves with creative collectives such as Handstand Command, the Elephant Six, or Initech. As individual participants in a given band or scene, we should share our strengths, strive to be supportive, and stand out from the predominant cookie-cutter crowd.
Technofetishism VIII
While my new PowerBook will probably arrive while I'm still travelling later this week, the AirPort Base Station arrived today. It's rather anticlimactic because I can't do anything with the base station until the laptop arrives, but it's comforting to know that it's here, waiting for its friend. We'll keep the love lights on.
While my new PowerBook will probably arrive while I'm still travelling later this week, the AirPort Base Station arrived today. It's rather anticlimactic because I can't do anything with the base station until the laptop arrives, but it's comforting to know that it's here, waiting for its friend. We'll keep the love lights on.
Rock Shows of Note XXVIII
This past weekend brought two awesome shows. Friday night, I met Jef and Steph at TT the Bear's before heading over to T-Dev's old house in Somerville for his going-away party. He and Highwater Books are moving to New York. Or have moved, I guess. At TT's, I caught most of a solo set by Emily Sparks, who played a sleepy-Sunday selection of pop songs. She's got quite the singing voice and even whistled during one piece. While I couldn't catch all of her lyrics, most of the songs seemed to be about self-confidence, relationships, and similar topics. She's got an album coming out soon and plans to go on tour later this year.
Seana Carmody, formerly of the Swirlies, also has a CD to be released soon. She played with a trio Friday night, building on her shoegazing jangle-pop past. At times, her post-Syrup USA "fantasy rock" reminded me of Mary Timony, but Seana's not all puppies and snails. Her singing style wavered between the plaintive and the aggressive, and the set ended with a nice, prolonged bit of noise and amplifier feedback. Looking forward to the record!
Fast forward -- or rewind, given that today's Tuesday -- to Saturday night. I almost didn't go to this show because Jamaica Plain felt so far away, but around 10 p.m. or so, I decided that I should cab to the Midway Cafe to see Nod, Naughty Shirley, My Own Worst Enemy, and the new band organized by Steve Lawrence (ex-Car Models Blue). I caught just the very end of Nod's set and didn't hear enough to comment. Naughty Shirley quickly took the stage, and having seen them previously, I was much more impressed this time. A guitar-drums duo involving Slamber of Pelvic Circus, the band struck me as an energetic act akin to many of the scaled-down K Records bands. I enjoyed the drummer's work immensely, and the guitarist had some nice spazzy, jump-around moments. She even stepped off the stage and walked into the audience at one point. A much stronger impression than the one made when I saw them a month-plus ago.
My Own Worst Enemy, however, didn't really impress me. Scan commented that the band almost sounded like two bands, and I'm tempted to agree. The best, most energetic, and most melodic songs were led by Steve Prygoda -- who shared some excellent pop-punk ditties. Otherwise, the music didn't really connect with me. And the drummer, who's the spitting image of Kenny G, was slightly irritating in that Berklee School of Music kind of way. Half and half on this one.
Lastly -- and late, late, late -- Steve Lawrence, formerly of Car Models Blue. This was a bit of a triumphant return to the stage for Steve, who -- after Car Models Blue disbanded and their still in-process recording project dragged on and on -- hasn't played live for eight months or so. For this show, he enlisted a bunch of friends to play with him; I think they practiced once earlier in the week. So the show was slightly strange. Steve writes Brian Wilson-inspired pop songs, many of them quite impressive and orchestral in scope. But the sense that this was his show and that the band was secondary and temporary was strong. I'd like to see Steve play with a full, full-time band again. I think the coherence would be helpful. But as it was, I appreciated hearing the new songs -- and being able to share the night with Steve and friends. Now, finish that CD!
This past weekend brought two awesome shows. Friday night, I met Jef and Steph at TT the Bear's before heading over to T-Dev's old house in Somerville for his going-away party. He and Highwater Books are moving to New York. Or have moved, I guess. At TT's, I caught most of a solo set by Emily Sparks, who played a sleepy-Sunday selection of pop songs. She's got quite the singing voice and even whistled during one piece. While I couldn't catch all of her lyrics, most of the songs seemed to be about self-confidence, relationships, and similar topics. She's got an album coming out soon and plans to go on tour later this year.
Seana Carmody, formerly of the Swirlies, also has a CD to be released soon. She played with a trio Friday night, building on her shoegazing jangle-pop past. At times, her post-Syrup USA "fantasy rock" reminded me of Mary Timony, but Seana's not all puppies and snails. Her singing style wavered between the plaintive and the aggressive, and the set ended with a nice, prolonged bit of noise and amplifier feedback. Looking forward to the record!
Fast forward -- or rewind, given that today's Tuesday -- to Saturday night. I almost didn't go to this show because Jamaica Plain felt so far away, but around 10 p.m. or so, I decided that I should cab to the Midway Cafe to see Nod, Naughty Shirley, My Own Worst Enemy, and the new band organized by Steve Lawrence (ex-Car Models Blue). I caught just the very end of Nod's set and didn't hear enough to comment. Naughty Shirley quickly took the stage, and having seen them previously, I was much more impressed this time. A guitar-drums duo involving Slamber of Pelvic Circus, the band struck me as an energetic act akin to many of the scaled-down K Records bands. I enjoyed the drummer's work immensely, and the guitarist had some nice spazzy, jump-around moments. She even stepped off the stage and walked into the audience at one point. A much stronger impression than the one made when I saw them a month-plus ago.
My Own Worst Enemy, however, didn't really impress me. Scan commented that the band almost sounded like two bands, and I'm tempted to agree. The best, most energetic, and most melodic songs were led by Steve Prygoda -- who shared some excellent pop-punk ditties. Otherwise, the music didn't really connect with me. And the drummer, who's the spitting image of Kenny G, was slightly irritating in that Berklee School of Music kind of way. Half and half on this one.
Lastly -- and late, late, late -- Steve Lawrence, formerly of Car Models Blue. This was a bit of a triumphant return to the stage for Steve, who -- after Car Models Blue disbanded and their still in-process recording project dragged on and on -- hasn't played live for eight months or so. For this show, he enlisted a bunch of friends to play with him; I think they practiced once earlier in the week. So the show was slightly strange. Steve writes Brian Wilson-inspired pop songs, many of them quite impressive and orchestral in scope. But the sense that this was his show and that the band was secondary and temporary was strong. I'd like to see Steve play with a full, full-time band again. I think the coherence would be helpful. But as it was, I appreciated hearing the new songs -- and being able to share the night with Steve and friends. Now, finish that CD!
The Movie I Watched Last Night XXV
First Blood
Despite Sylvester Stallone's extremely guttural performance, this remains one of my favorite action-adventure flicks from childhood. (I was 9 when it came out.) A drifter, Viet Nam War veteran, Green Beret, and guerrilla warfare expert pushed too far by a parochial small-town sheriff, John Rambo wigs out and heads to the hills. The movie is basically a series of chase scenes and fight scenes, but director Ted Kotcheff builds in ample suspense -- particularly when Rambo's crawling through the abandoned mine. Brian Dennehy plays the small-town sheriff to good effect and we're treated to a young, boyish David Caruso, but Richard Crenna's Col. Sam Trautman is a little heavy-handed and dampens some of the drama and interpersonal sparring. Even though the movie helped sales of survival knives skyrocket -- particularly if they had a compass in the hilt -- I'm disappointed that the movie became the progressively weaker franchise it evolved as. Based on a novel by David Morrell, the movie doesn't capture the psychological workings of Rambo -- especially the flashback scenes and memories that trigger his lashing out -- and totally changes the ending. In the novel, Rambo dies, making for a nicely ambivalent and slightly pessimistic ending. In the movie, he lives -- perhaps to ensure the making of Rambo: First Blood Part II three years later.
First Blood
Despite Sylvester Stallone's extremely guttural performance, this remains one of my favorite action-adventure flicks from childhood. (I was 9 when it came out.) A drifter, Viet Nam War veteran, Green Beret, and guerrilla warfare expert pushed too far by a parochial small-town sheriff, John Rambo wigs out and heads to the hills. The movie is basically a series of chase scenes and fight scenes, but director Ted Kotcheff builds in ample suspense -- particularly when Rambo's crawling through the abandoned mine. Brian Dennehy plays the small-town sheriff to good effect and we're treated to a young, boyish David Caruso, but Richard Crenna's Col. Sam Trautman is a little heavy-handed and dampens some of the drama and interpersonal sparring. Even though the movie helped sales of survival knives skyrocket -- particularly if they had a compass in the hilt -- I'm disappointed that the movie became the progressively weaker franchise it evolved as. Based on a novel by David Morrell, the movie doesn't capture the psychological workings of Rambo -- especially the flashback scenes and memories that trigger his lashing out -- and totally changes the ending. In the novel, Rambo dies, making for a nicely ambivalent and slightly pessimistic ending. In the movie, he lives -- perhaps to ensure the making of Rambo: First Blood Part II three years later.
Monday, July 01, 2002
Books Worth a Look VI
These are the books I read in June 2002.
The Al-Anon Family Groups: Classic Edition by Lois W. (2000)
Originally published in 1955, this book details the origin of Al-Anon, its relationship with AA, its purpose and work, and how Al-Anon family groups self-organize and -operate. While its content about the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions is useful in terms of alcoholism-related mutual support, I was particularly interested in the material on starting a group, how meetings can be run, and what members are encouraged to do. An interesting grassroots leadership and social action primer. That said, the historical appendices that track how the book has changed over the years are less than necessary outside of the information on Alateen and how to solve problems within a group.
Days to read: 10. Rating: Good.
Al Azif: The Necronomicon by Abdul Alhazred (1973)
A misleading curiosity of interest and questionable value only to H.P. Lovecraft fans and completists, this volume reputedly reproduces the horrific book written by the Mad Arab. However, other than L. Sprague de Camp's seven-page preface, it's basically the same 16 pages of untranslated "Duriac" text, which calligraphically resembles Arabic, repeated for the bulk of the book. De Camp's preface has, I'm sure, been reprinted elsewhere, and his history doesn't quite keep to Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos. But the reproduced, repetitive, illegible Duriac? Ever feel like you've been cheated?
Days to read: 1. Rating: Poor.
Alcohol: How to Give It Up and Be Glad You Did by Philip Tate
Drawing heavily on Albert Ellis' work in rational emotive behavior therapy, Tate's sobriety primer also seems related to the Decision Maker process, est, and learned optimism. As an alternative to AA, Tate's take on REBT involves alcoholics and drug addicts disputing irrational beliefs to develop more effective beliefs and therefore happier consequences. The books takes the reader through this process many, many times and seems overly oriented toward individual work until Tate introduces the concept of recovery groups. Useful, but not overly influenced by the concept of mutual support.
Days to read: 20. Rating: Good.
The Bhagavad Gita trans. by Juan Mascaro (1962)
Originally composed in Sanskrit around 500 B.C., the Bhagavad Gita describes Krishna's philosophies on vision, love, and work. Portrayed as a conversation between Krishna and Arjuna on a battlefield, the Gita espouses selflessness, right action, purity, and other ideals, outlining the elements of a righteous life. While I'm not sure how Mascaro's translation stacks up against others, the Gita's message is clear and often quite poetic -- especially in the tenth chapter. Worth returning to.
Days to read: 21. Rating: Good.
The Day I Turned Uncool: Confessions of a Reluctant Grown-Up by Dan Zevin (2002)
This book hit me at a particularly good time. Dan now has a lot of the things I've started to think I might want -- a house, a yard, a family -- and he's slightly self-conscious about it. Luckily he's not overly apologetic or ironic about his recently discovered maturity. Instead, he's rather surprised and amused by it. "I played golf! I hired a cleaning lady! I went to a wine tasting!" All of these things delight Dan, and he continues to hold onto his past self while wondering whether he's now part of the New Bourgeoisie. Don't worry, Dan; you're not. You're just getting older. My only complaint about this collection is that many pieces build up to a head and them quickly fall off with a dismissive punchline or call back. Regardless, Dan is clever and critical.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
Dracula by Bram Stoker (1897)
One of several books I've started to read a couple of times but never finished -- among them In Cold Blood and Helter Skelter -- I'm glad I finally made it through this horror classic. Roughly divided into three sections -- gothic horror narrative, medical mystery thriller, and melodramatic heroic adventure -- Stoker's mythos-building novel combines journal entries and letters to propel the story of one of the world's most famous vampires. While I found the final third -- basically a chase scene -- to be unrewarding, the first two thirds are worth a read alone. This 1997 Norton Critical Edition is heavily footnoted and includes an additional 160 pages of commentary and analysis.
Days to read: 16. Rating: Excellent.
Interesting Monsters by Aldo Alvarez (2001)
This is one of the best collections of interconnected short stories I have ever read. Throughout the 16 stories compiled here, Alvarez follows the relationship of Dean and Mark, as well as Dean's decline in health and the effects it has on his family and friends. While Alvarez specializes in gay fiction, he emphasizes the fiction, and the homosexual themes are foundations and undercurrents. The result is a heartfelt assortment of smart stories that occasionally evoke Haruki Murakami, Jonathan Lethem, and Franz Kafka.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Excellent.
Point It: Traveller's Language Kit and Picture Dictionary by Dieter Graf (1992)
To be appreciated by active world travellers and fans of global design journalism a la Colors magazine, this pocket-sized tool is aimed at people who "may be fluent in four languages but sometimes ... find yourself 'off the beaten track.'" Featuring pictures of about 1,200 different items, places, and activities, Point It can help you seek assistance eating, finding lodging, arranging transportation, shopping, and going about daily life anywhere in the world. While the images are somewhat dated, the 70-page booklet is equal parts postmodern eye candy and indispensable travel aid.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Excellent.
Preacher Book 7: Salvation by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (1999)
It's been a couple of months since I've read Preacher, and this 10-issue collection redeems the series in my mind. The bulk of the book compiles a multi-issue run about Jesse's stint as the sheriff of Salvation, Texas. He reconnects with a long-lost family member and takes on a corrupt, racist businessman whose employees walk over the town and its townspeople. Ennis also introduces an interesting character, Miss Outlash, a frigid attorney whose tastes run toward S&M and Nazism. Jesse learns more about his mission and his past, and I get a sense of acceleration from this edition.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Excellent.
Preacher Book 8: All Hell's A-Coming by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (2000)
Collecting issues #51-58, this trade paperback does more than redeem the previous failings of the series. Jesse is reunited with Tulip -- which actually brought a tear to my eye. Arseface separates with his evil, manipulative manager. Jesse learns about Cassidy's true self from a dying homeless woman. And All-Father Starr gets his -- although not so much that he's out of the picture. Ennis is done with the vamping and space filling, and the series is barreling along to the end.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
Preacher Book 9: Alamo by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (2001)
An admirable conclusion to the 66-issue comic series, this edition ties up all of the loose ends. It also returns to the book's early concentration on religion and mythology. Starr goes off the deep end in order to seek revenge. Custer makes a deal with the Saint of All Killers. And Custer and Cassidy confront each other -- emerging in the end as friends. I was slightly irritated by Custer's abandoning of Tulip, Ennis treated the Starr-Featherstone-Hoover love triangle a little too lightly, and the final conversation with John Wayne was drawn out too long. But otherwise, a satisfying ending -- particularly in the case of the Arseface plot line.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
The Story of Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman (1921)
How wonderful that Applewood Books has reissued this historic children's book. While the controversial book has been challenged as racist because of its portrayal of African Americans, it holds a cherished place in my heart -- partly because of the cleverness shown by the young hero Sambo, and partly because of its past. I vaguely remember a Little Black Sambo restaurant; the menu retold the tale -- which in the end involved pancakes and butter. Applewood's edition is a tidy size and passably reproduces the original color illustrations.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge by Carlos Castenada (1968)
I can't believe I read this. The fact that Castenada built a career on this work -- and that it's the underpinnings of modern shamanism -- flabbergasts me. While his experiences in the early '60s may have been very real and his academic analysis seems well structured, this book leaves little to build on. Too heavily focused on the preparation processes of two consciousness-expanding drugs, the book does offer some wisdom, particularly his comments on nonordinary reality, the goal of learning, and the validity of the paths we choose, but otherwise, Castenada's a waste of time. Less process, more philosophy, please!
Days to read: 4. Rating: Poor.
3rd Bed Vol. 6 ed. by Vincent Standley (2002)
My introduction to this biannual journal published in Rhode Island was somewhat of a letdown. While I wasn't that impressed by most of the poetry, though most of the prose ran long, and was disappointed by the comics, there were still several delightful selections included in this edition. For the most part, I was struck by the Kafka-esque fiction of Ben Miller, Brian Evenson, and David Ohle -- with Evenson's "House Rules" standing out. Jeffrey M. Bockman's "Speculations on the Gateau Impossible," while a bit wordy, offers a nice pseudo-historical analysis of alchemy and baking. And Mark Laliberte's "Brick Poems" reconstructs brick walls using source material from several cartoonists, including Mignola, Griffith, and Schulz. Worth watching.
Days to read: 2. Rating: Good.
Why do some books get a link while other books do not? If a publishing company or author sends me review copies for consideration -- and if I review the book in Media Diet -- they get a link as well as a review. I don't review every review copy or galley I receive, and I don't always have time to track down author, publisher, and other book-related links in general.
Most of the books I review should be relatively easy to find via the Harvard Book Store and Powell's Books online ordering services. If something's out of print, check the Advanced Book Exchange first.
And if you'd like to send me a book to consider for review, Media Diet's address is P.O. Box 390205, Cambridge, MA 02139. Thank you very much.
These are the books I read in June 2002.
The Al-Anon Family Groups: Classic Edition by Lois W. (2000)
Originally published in 1955, this book details the origin of Al-Anon, its relationship with AA, its purpose and work, and how Al-Anon family groups self-organize and -operate. While its content about the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions is useful in terms of alcoholism-related mutual support, I was particularly interested in the material on starting a group, how meetings can be run, and what members are encouraged to do. An interesting grassroots leadership and social action primer. That said, the historical appendices that track how the book has changed over the years are less than necessary outside of the information on Alateen and how to solve problems within a group.
Days to read: 10. Rating: Good.
Al Azif: The Necronomicon by Abdul Alhazred (1973)
A misleading curiosity of interest and questionable value only to H.P. Lovecraft fans and completists, this volume reputedly reproduces the horrific book written by the Mad Arab. However, other than L. Sprague de Camp's seven-page preface, it's basically the same 16 pages of untranslated "Duriac" text, which calligraphically resembles Arabic, repeated for the bulk of the book. De Camp's preface has, I'm sure, been reprinted elsewhere, and his history doesn't quite keep to Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos. But the reproduced, repetitive, illegible Duriac? Ever feel like you've been cheated?
Days to read: 1. Rating: Poor.
Alcohol: How to Give It Up and Be Glad You Did by Philip Tate
Drawing heavily on Albert Ellis' work in rational emotive behavior therapy, Tate's sobriety primer also seems related to the Decision Maker process, est, and learned optimism. As an alternative to AA, Tate's take on REBT involves alcoholics and drug addicts disputing irrational beliefs to develop more effective beliefs and therefore happier consequences. The books takes the reader through this process many, many times and seems overly oriented toward individual work until Tate introduces the concept of recovery groups. Useful, but not overly influenced by the concept of mutual support.
Days to read: 20. Rating: Good.
The Bhagavad Gita trans. by Juan Mascaro (1962)
Originally composed in Sanskrit around 500 B.C., the Bhagavad Gita describes Krishna's philosophies on vision, love, and work. Portrayed as a conversation between Krishna and Arjuna on a battlefield, the Gita espouses selflessness, right action, purity, and other ideals, outlining the elements of a righteous life. While I'm not sure how Mascaro's translation stacks up against others, the Gita's message is clear and often quite poetic -- especially in the tenth chapter. Worth returning to.
Days to read: 21. Rating: Good.
The Day I Turned Uncool: Confessions of a Reluctant Grown-Up by Dan Zevin (2002)
This book hit me at a particularly good time. Dan now has a lot of the things I've started to think I might want -- a house, a yard, a family -- and he's slightly self-conscious about it. Luckily he's not overly apologetic or ironic about his recently discovered maturity. Instead, he's rather surprised and amused by it. "I played golf! I hired a cleaning lady! I went to a wine tasting!" All of these things delight Dan, and he continues to hold onto his past self while wondering whether he's now part of the New Bourgeoisie. Don't worry, Dan; you're not. You're just getting older. My only complaint about this collection is that many pieces build up to a head and them quickly fall off with a dismissive punchline or call back. Regardless, Dan is clever and critical.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
Dracula by Bram Stoker (1897)
One of several books I've started to read a couple of times but never finished -- among them In Cold Blood and Helter Skelter -- I'm glad I finally made it through this horror classic. Roughly divided into three sections -- gothic horror narrative, medical mystery thriller, and melodramatic heroic adventure -- Stoker's mythos-building novel combines journal entries and letters to propel the story of one of the world's most famous vampires. While I found the final third -- basically a chase scene -- to be unrewarding, the first two thirds are worth a read alone. This 1997 Norton Critical Edition is heavily footnoted and includes an additional 160 pages of commentary and analysis.
Days to read: 16. Rating: Excellent.
Interesting Monsters by Aldo Alvarez (2001)
This is one of the best collections of interconnected short stories I have ever read. Throughout the 16 stories compiled here, Alvarez follows the relationship of Dean and Mark, as well as Dean's decline in health and the effects it has on his family and friends. While Alvarez specializes in gay fiction, he emphasizes the fiction, and the homosexual themes are foundations and undercurrents. The result is a heartfelt assortment of smart stories that occasionally evoke Haruki Murakami, Jonathan Lethem, and Franz Kafka.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Excellent.
Point It: Traveller's Language Kit and Picture Dictionary by Dieter Graf (1992)
To be appreciated by active world travellers and fans of global design journalism a la Colors magazine, this pocket-sized tool is aimed at people who "may be fluent in four languages but sometimes ... find yourself 'off the beaten track.'" Featuring pictures of about 1,200 different items, places, and activities, Point It can help you seek assistance eating, finding lodging, arranging transportation, shopping, and going about daily life anywhere in the world. While the images are somewhat dated, the 70-page booklet is equal parts postmodern eye candy and indispensable travel aid.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Excellent.
Preacher Book 7: Salvation by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (1999)
It's been a couple of months since I've read Preacher, and this 10-issue collection redeems the series in my mind. The bulk of the book compiles a multi-issue run about Jesse's stint as the sheriff of Salvation, Texas. He reconnects with a long-lost family member and takes on a corrupt, racist businessman whose employees walk over the town and its townspeople. Ennis also introduces an interesting character, Miss Outlash, a frigid attorney whose tastes run toward S&M and Nazism. Jesse learns more about his mission and his past, and I get a sense of acceleration from this edition.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Excellent.
Preacher Book 8: All Hell's A-Coming by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (2000)
Collecting issues #51-58, this trade paperback does more than redeem the previous failings of the series. Jesse is reunited with Tulip -- which actually brought a tear to my eye. Arseface separates with his evil, manipulative manager. Jesse learns about Cassidy's true self from a dying homeless woman. And All-Father Starr gets his -- although not so much that he's out of the picture. Ennis is done with the vamping and space filling, and the series is barreling along to the end.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
Preacher Book 9: Alamo by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (2001)
An admirable conclusion to the 66-issue comic series, this edition ties up all of the loose ends. It also returns to the book's early concentration on religion and mythology. Starr goes off the deep end in order to seek revenge. Custer makes a deal with the Saint of All Killers. And Custer and Cassidy confront each other -- emerging in the end as friends. I was slightly irritated by Custer's abandoning of Tulip, Ennis treated the Starr-Featherstone-Hoover love triangle a little too lightly, and the final conversation with John Wayne was drawn out too long. But otherwise, a satisfying ending -- particularly in the case of the Arseface plot line.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
The Story of Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman (1921)
How wonderful that Applewood Books has reissued this historic children's book. While the controversial book has been challenged as racist because of its portrayal of African Americans, it holds a cherished place in my heart -- partly because of the cleverness shown by the young hero Sambo, and partly because of its past. I vaguely remember a Little Black Sambo restaurant; the menu retold the tale -- which in the end involved pancakes and butter. Applewood's edition is a tidy size and passably reproduces the original color illustrations.
Days to read: 1. Rating: Good.
The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge by Carlos Castenada (1968)
I can't believe I read this. The fact that Castenada built a career on this work -- and that it's the underpinnings of modern shamanism -- flabbergasts me. While his experiences in the early '60s may have been very real and his academic analysis seems well structured, this book leaves little to build on. Too heavily focused on the preparation processes of two consciousness-expanding drugs, the book does offer some wisdom, particularly his comments on nonordinary reality, the goal of learning, and the validity of the paths we choose, but otherwise, Castenada's a waste of time. Less process, more philosophy, please!
Days to read: 4. Rating: Poor.
3rd Bed Vol. 6 ed. by Vincent Standley (2002)
My introduction to this biannual journal published in Rhode Island was somewhat of a letdown. While I wasn't that impressed by most of the poetry, though most of the prose ran long, and was disappointed by the comics, there were still several delightful selections included in this edition. For the most part, I was struck by the Kafka-esque fiction of Ben Miller, Brian Evenson, and David Ohle -- with Evenson's "House Rules" standing out. Jeffrey M. Bockman's "Speculations on the Gateau Impossible," while a bit wordy, offers a nice pseudo-historical analysis of alchemy and baking. And Mark Laliberte's "Brick Poems" reconstructs brick walls using source material from several cartoonists, including Mignola, Griffith, and Schulz. Worth watching.
Days to read: 2. Rating: Good.
Why do some books get a link while other books do not? If a publishing company or author sends me review copies for consideration -- and if I review the book in Media Diet -- they get a link as well as a review. I don't review every review copy or galley I receive, and I don't always have time to track down author, publisher, and other book-related links in general.
Most of the books I review should be relatively easy to find via the Harvard Book Store and Powell's Books online ordering services. If something's out of print, check the Advanced Book Exchange first.
And if you'd like to send me a book to consider for review, Media Diet's address is P.O. Box 390205, Cambridge, MA 02139. Thank you very much.
Oh, Canada!
Today is Canada Day. Checking the most-recent Media Diet hits, I see that we were last visited by a Canadian about 12 minutes ago. Happy Canada Day to you! (And to everyone else, too, of course, but most importantly, to you.)
Today is Canada Day. Checking the most-recent Media Diet hits, I see that we were last visited by a Canadian about 12 minutes ago. Happy Canada Day to you! (And to everyone else, too, of course, but most importantly, to you.)
Party to Record Releases VII
Books and records, today.
The Harvard Book Store, one of my favorite book shops, offers an email newsletter that includes information about new arrivals, special first edition acquisitions, and notable remainders. The newsletter also features listings of author reading events, brief promotional reviews, and bestsellers lists. The new arrivals and bestsellers are the most useful elements, and while the newsletter rarely inspires me to go to the shop, I go frequently enough that it doesn't need to. If you live in the Boston area, this is the book store to visit. You can even order books online -- and pick them up at the shop on Harvard Square. Now that's click and mortar!
Victory Records, the long-running hardcore label, provides an email newsletter, as well. It's mostly oriented toward new-release information and tour schedules, but if you're not into the bands featured in a given edition, it's less than useful or interesting. The newsletter is also occasionally victim to awkward formatting and lame promo writing. Example: "Drawing from the two most prominent types of hardcore, Dead to Fall is the perfect blend of metal and mosh. They charismatically blend metallic hardcore with Euro-metal stylings and their own technical musings." Ho hum. Reads like ad copy from Metal Maniacs! Victory may have been around for awhile -- and they may be a relatively large business at this point -- but the label could learn from Lookout! Records' mix of personality, insider scoop, and humor. On the whole, Victory seems to take itself too seriously.
Books and records, today.
The Harvard Book Store, one of my favorite book shops, offers an email newsletter that includes information about new arrivals, special first edition acquisitions, and notable remainders. The newsletter also features listings of author reading events, brief promotional reviews, and bestsellers lists. The new arrivals and bestsellers are the most useful elements, and while the newsletter rarely inspires me to go to the shop, I go frequently enough that it doesn't need to. If you live in the Boston area, this is the book store to visit. You can even order books online -- and pick them up at the shop on Harvard Square. Now that's click and mortar!
Victory Records, the long-running hardcore label, provides an email newsletter, as well. It's mostly oriented toward new-release information and tour schedules, but if you're not into the bands featured in a given edition, it's less than useful or interesting. The newsletter is also occasionally victim to awkward formatting and lame promo writing. Example: "Drawing from the two most prominent types of hardcore, Dead to Fall is the perfect blend of metal and mosh. They charismatically blend metallic hardcore with Euro-metal stylings and their own technical musings." Ho hum. Reads like ad copy from Metal Maniacs! Victory may have been around for awhile -- and they may be a relatively large business at this point -- but the label could learn from Lookout! Records' mix of personality, insider scoop, and humor. On the whole, Victory seems to take itself too seriously.
The Movie I Watched Last Night XXIV
Friday: Weird Science
This movie hit me in all the right places when I was 12 -- I wasn't very athletic, I'd just started playing around with the Apple II, and girls were still a mystery. I had forgotten that this was a John Hughes movie -- much less that Anthony Michael Hall starred in it -- and it holds up pretty well more than 15 years later. Robert Downey, Jr., and Robert Rusler shine as two white-bread, new-wave bad boys who aren't half as dangerous as they act. And Hall has some occasional moments of brilliance, particularly the stereotypical scene in the blues bar. While Kelly LeBrock did all she could to carry her role as self-esteem builder and moral teacher, the message of teen empowerment is largely lost, and Hall's last scene with Suzanne Snyder -- "I'm not really this cool. This isn't my car. This isn't my suit." -- falls flat. Still, worth watching for the uninformed portrayal of new wavers and computers, as well as the horrible character design of the monster into which Bill Paxton's character is temporarily converted. Oh yeah, Oingo Boingo did the movie's theme song: "From my heart and from my hands, why don't people understand my intentions?"
Sunday: How to Marry a Millionaire
Wow. Lauren Bacall, Betty Grable, and Marilyn Monroe co-star in this man-trap, gold-digger romantic comedy in which three models share an apartment to lure wealthy men into marriage. Their plans aft gang aglay, but in the end, each ends up with her true love -- and Bacall's character unwittingly falls for a millionaire she believes to be a gas pump jockey. ("After we get off this ferry, I never want to see you again!") Monroe steps past her usual breathy vapidity and takes on a rather comic role as a nearly blind woman who almost always refuses to wear her glasses. She accidentally gets on a plane to Kansas City instead of Atlantic City, where she meets a man almost as blind as she is. And Grable, with whom I was less impressed, participates in some scenic skiing scenes supposedly shot in Maine. Egyptian-born Alexander D'Arcy stands out as the elder lover of Bacall's character -- their scenes together exhibit real tenderness even if sparks don't really fly between them. I forget why I rented this movie, but I'm glad I did. Funny stuff. Oh! Two irritations, however. As the first romantic comedy filmed in the then-new CinemaScope, the movie opens with a six-minute orchestral performance. I'm sure that might have been interesting in 1953, but if I want to see an orchestra, I'll go see an orchestra -- not go to the movies. And the scene in which the Fashion World models display newly designed outfits for Cameron Mitchell's character is a silly, stilted excuse for a fashion show. Nonetheless, Mitchell's closing line to that scene hit home: "I don't see anything I want here." Ouch, Bacall!
Friday: Weird Science
This movie hit me in all the right places when I was 12 -- I wasn't very athletic, I'd just started playing around with the Apple II, and girls were still a mystery. I had forgotten that this was a John Hughes movie -- much less that Anthony Michael Hall starred in it -- and it holds up pretty well more than 15 years later. Robert Downey, Jr., and Robert Rusler shine as two white-bread, new-wave bad boys who aren't half as dangerous as they act. And Hall has some occasional moments of brilliance, particularly the stereotypical scene in the blues bar. While Kelly LeBrock did all she could to carry her role as self-esteem builder and moral teacher, the message of teen empowerment is largely lost, and Hall's last scene with Suzanne Snyder -- "I'm not really this cool. This isn't my car. This isn't my suit." -- falls flat. Still, worth watching for the uninformed portrayal of new wavers and computers, as well as the horrible character design of the monster into which Bill Paxton's character is temporarily converted. Oh yeah, Oingo Boingo did the movie's theme song: "From my heart and from my hands, why don't people understand my intentions?"
Sunday: How to Marry a Millionaire
Wow. Lauren Bacall, Betty Grable, and Marilyn Monroe co-star in this man-trap, gold-digger romantic comedy in which three models share an apartment to lure wealthy men into marriage. Their plans aft gang aglay, but in the end, each ends up with her true love -- and Bacall's character unwittingly falls for a millionaire she believes to be a gas pump jockey. ("After we get off this ferry, I never want to see you again!") Monroe steps past her usual breathy vapidity and takes on a rather comic role as a nearly blind woman who almost always refuses to wear her glasses. She accidentally gets on a plane to Kansas City instead of Atlantic City, where she meets a man almost as blind as she is. And Grable, with whom I was less impressed, participates in some scenic skiing scenes supposedly shot in Maine. Egyptian-born Alexander D'Arcy stands out as the elder lover of Bacall's character -- their scenes together exhibit real tenderness even if sparks don't really fly between them. I forget why I rented this movie, but I'm glad I did. Funny stuff. Oh! Two irritations, however. As the first romantic comedy filmed in the then-new CinemaScope, the movie opens with a six-minute orchestral performance. I'm sure that might have been interesting in 1953, but if I want to see an orchestra, I'll go see an orchestra -- not go to the movies. And the scene in which the Fashion World models display newly designed outfits for Cameron Mitchell's character is a silly, stilted excuse for a fashion show. Nonetheless, Mitchell's closing line to that scene hit home: "I don't see anything I want here." Ouch, Bacall!
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