A Big Ol' Pile of Books

This past Friday marked the 5th anniversary of my first book review on this blog about The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. It's hard to believe it's already been five years, as it really doesn't seem that long ago that I decided to embark on this mission.

For the longest time, I had expected to be finished after five years. In fact there was a time I thought I'd be done in four! Now that I'm older and wiser, I figure I might be done in a year and half, and that two more years is probably more realistic. I've read 76 books from the list in those five years, which is more than one a month. I've also read about 170 non-list books in that time. I guess if I had stuck to only list books, I would have been done quite some time ago, but I also might have succumb to madness. Really, I don't think my pace has been that bad when put into perspective, and 76 books really is a lot of books. 

Chuck Barris: Television Auteur, CIA Hitman, Literary Fan

We'll be back with more...stuff!

I slipped in a little non-fiction this past week, when I read Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. Or maybe it was a little fiction...? The book, written by Chuck Barris in 1982, bills itself as an "unauthorized autobiography." Since it was first published, it has generated a lot of debate as to how much of it really is true, and if you've read it, you know what I'm talking about.

For those of you unfamiliar with Chuck Barris, he was the creator of such infamous shows as The Dating Game, The Newlywed Game, and The Gong Show (which he also hosted.) What is up for debate is Barris' claim that while working in television all those years, he was also a contract killer for the CIA.

Naturally it couldn't be true. Or could it? The debate has gone on for over 30 years, even by those who knew him best.

But he's a learned man. may he continue

I think I learned something today.  Well, I think I probably learn something everyday, but today, I learned something about reading a list of 100 books.  When you talk on the radio each week about the books, it is much, much easier to talk about books you really like.

This morning I discussed one of my favorites so far, I, Claudius by Robert Graves.  Not only did I have a lot to say, but I could hear the excitement in my voice.  In reality, I could probably fill an hour talking about this book; there's so much to discuss.

Now through 42 books, there have only been a couple that I really didn't enjoy.  Most of the books have been, at worst, enjoyable reads.  But even an adequate book is often difficult to talk about, or at least difficult to be really enthusiastic about.  I guess it's sort of like a meal.  When you eat at a really good restaurant, every bite can be fantastic, always leaving you wanting more.  But when you eat at McDonalds, the food is adequate, but it doesn't give you the urge to write home and tell your folks about it.

When I talk about The Moviegoer or Appointment in Samarra, I have no problem at all with either book.  However, by no means am I over the moon, and hence I don't get all that excited.  Where a book like I, Claudius, I want to tell everybody about it, and recommend they read it as soon as possible.

So now I'm left to wonder.  Do I try and be more enthusiastic about these 'average' reads, or should I just be honest about my indifference?  I suppose honesty is always the best option, but enthusiasm probably makes for a better show.  Maybe the best idea is to read really good books, and this problem will take care of itself.

#41 - "The Moviegoer" by Walker Percy

I finished my 41st book from this list yesterday, The Moviegoer, and I'm at a little bit at a loss as to what to think.  I didn't dislike this book by any means, nor did I find it boring.  I liked the characters, I liked the style, I liked most things about it.  But while I was reading it, I never really felt pulled in by it.  Never was I longing to read more.  Sure, I was curious as to what would happen, but it wasn't a book that was on my mind all the time, even when I wasn't reading.  I can't figure out why a book I liked basically everything about, hasn't left me thinking I just finished a great book.

The Moviegoer is about John "Binx" Bolling, a New Orleans stockbroker, who's just about to celebrate his thirtieth birthday.  He's very successful in his business career, he sleeps with his secretaries, so one could argue he's successful there as well, and he goes to the movies, usually alone.  But really, he's someone who's afraid of what he terms 'everydayness,' worried that he'll be forgotten once he has shuffled off this mortal coil.  He's bored of the routine of life, and he uses the movies as a way to escape.

I enjoyed the style of the book immensely, and it was an easy to follow, accessible read.  Binx seems like the kind of guy almost anybody could have a coffee or a beer with, pleasant, intelligent, well-meaning, and all around likable fellow.  He reminds me a little of Forrest Gump in his happy-go-lucky demeanor; he just happens to be a lot smarter and less naive.  The deeper we get to know Binx though, the more we see what's actually going on.

Behind that exterior, the one that's been chasing the 'American Dream', and quite successfully at that, we see that he isn't being fulfilled.  Sure, he's got the house, a good paying job, and a nice car.  But is the dream complete, or does he also have to go to medical school, get married and have children as well?  It's almost as if he feels pressured to take these next steps, and he's unsure if he wants to because it might be nothing more than a means to an end.

There lies Binx' great dilemma.  He doesn't want to get married, though everyone else seems to.  He doesn't  believe in God, but almost everyone else does.  He likes being a stock broker, though everyone agrees medicine would be a more respectable profession.  He knows he's missing something, but he's pretty sure it isn't these entanglements everybody else is interested in.  But despite the desire to avoid these 'traps', he is constantly being pressured from every angle, and it's only a matter of time before he's completely shut in, trapped by the very dream he had been chasing most of his life.  In the end, he knows he'll have to give in. 

I often thought back to Rabbit, Run's Harry Angstrom when reading about Binx Bolling.  Both men seem to be aimlessly wandering through the desert of life, unsure of both what it is they're missing and what it is they desire.  But both men know what they really want is change.  I suppose the similarities no doubt arise from both books having been written only a year apart, in a time when the very American Dream they are both chasing was going through some major upheavals.  Gone were the glory days of the 1950's, and in came the much more gritty, social-uprising 1960's.  It's only natural that literary characters of the time would reflect those changes.


You can read TIME magazine's original review from May 19, 1961 right here.


You can hear me discuss The Moviegoer on the CBC's The Eyeopener right here.

Up next is a book, or rather an author of been fearing since the beginning of this list; Thomas Pynchon.  While I don't really know anything about him, I've never heard anybody say he's was an easy straightforward read.  Pynchon is one of nine authors with two books on the list.  Twice I've had Gravity's Rainbow out from the library, twice it's been returned unread.  So instead of trying that one more time, I'm giving his other book a try; The Crying of Lot 49.  It looks a lot more manageable and a good way to ease my way into Pynchon.

#40 - "Appointment in Samarra" by John O'Hara

A book I knew nothing about, from 1934, made for a quick read this weekend, and a damn good one at that.  Appointment in Samarra by John O'Hara is exactly my type of book; focusing on realistic, interesting characters.  As I inch closer to the halfway mark of this list, I'm finally starting to realize what type of books I enjoy reading.

Set in the fictional Pennsylvania town of Gibbsville, Appointment in Samarra follows the self-destruction of one Julian English, over three days at Christmas, 1930.  A well-to-do man of 30 years, English owns a Cadillac dealership, has a college education, is member of all the best clubs, and is married to Caroline; a woman he loves and a woman that loves him.  But behind the seemingly perfect life, lives a deeply flawed man.

Julian's problems start at a party on Christmas Eve when in a drunken state he throws his drink into the face of Harry Reilly, one of the wealthier men in town, giving him a black eye in the process.  While by no means the beginning of his problems, it does begin a chain reaction that threatens to destroy every part of Julian's life.

I'm always of fan of what I would describe as 'character-driven' novels, where the setting and happenings are almost secondary to the development and growth of the central figures.  In Appointment in Samarra, O'Hara uses some of the frankest and most realistic interactions I've ever read.  Too often I find characters in novels or in movies talk in, well, a scripted fashion.  They use a formality that real people don't use and a wit real people don't have.  This naturally become even more prevalent in older books, where characters must avoid swearing or discussing sexual situations.

I remember hearing or reading that parts of Appointment in Samarra were quite 'racy' for the time, so I was assuming there would be explicit sexual scenes, or profane language.  Of course as usually is the case, there wasn't anything in Appointment in Samarra that you wouldn't see on television today.  While I suppose there would be some minor 'swearing', it certainly wouldn't be anything I'd be hesitant to use in any public setting.  As for sexual scenes, there is nothing explicit, as in Tropic of Cancer.  Everything in Appointment in Samarra is merely suggested, and not any specific sexual acts, merely the fact that adults have sex (who knew!?).

But despite the rather tameness of the sexual scenes or the 'adult situations', the characters still discuss them in a realistic manner.  They talk of sex, as something that everybody does, not as if it's something that doesn't really exist and should never be discussed.  I always have this image of earlier eras, where nobody swears, and nobody talks about anything even remotely private.  This no doubt arises from the fact that in the movies of these by-gone eras, nobody talks about sex, nobody swears, and people are always quite formal.  This is what I found made the dialogue in this book so great.  These are characters that are really just like the people of today.  They talk about sex with their spouse or with the guys, they swear when they're mad, and they talk about other people's tragedies with a touch of humor; happy it hasn't happened to them.  And I'm sure the people of the 30's were no different.  Except for maybe my grandparents, who I simply cannot picture using the word sex, never mind discussing it in any way, shape, or form.

Of course this frank treatment of everyday situations caused quite a stir at the time of publication.  The book has been described as vulgar, infantile, and crass.  Most critics seemed to enjoy the style and story, but were turned off by O'Hara's attempt to push the envelope of what was acceptable for publication at the time.  Ultimately, the book was never banned in the United States, unlike so many others of the time, so I suppose he was successful.  Reading things like this often make me thankful I don't live in an era so prudish that critics can't praise a book they enjoyed, simply because two adults had sex and one person called another a bitch.



You can read the original review in TIME from August 20, 1934, by clicking here.


To listen to my discussion of Appointment in Samarra on The Eyeopener, click here.


For my 41st book, I'm going up a couple of decades to 1961's The Moviegoer by Walker Percy.  Following a New Orleans stockbroker, it's said to combine Bourbon Street elegance with the spiritual urgency of a Russian novel.