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.

Continue still in this so good a mind,

Well, there's good news and bad news to report. The good news is I finally finished the second book in The Lord of the Rings trilogy.  The bad news is, I still have another book to read.

I'm happy to report however, that the final 100 pages of The Two Towers were the best yet, and actually had me interested in reading (which is perhaps why I read the final 100 pages today).  This also means that I am keen to continue reading the next book, to see what happens. This is in great contrast to when I finished the first book, and had no desire whatsoever to continue reading the next two books. Having said that, I'm still debating whether or not to continue with Lord of the Rings right now.

My other option is to squeeze in another list read before continuing, just so I can get some forward progress on the list for the first time since November. The danger in this tactic is that I may lose whatever momentum I have built up these past couple of days, and reading the third book will be like starting all over. But I fear that  regardless of having more interest, the final book will take me another month. Currently I have The Sound and the Fury sitting next to my computer, taunting me to pick it over The Return of the King which sits beneath it.

There wouldn't even have been a debate, had I not made a little discovery last week.  The Return of the King is, shall we say, the girthiest book of the three, and measures over 600 pages (compared to 535 for book 1 and 436 for book two). However, as I thumbed through it a few days ago, I discovered that in actuality, it's only 375 pages. I say this because I have no plans to read the over 200 pages of appendices found at the end. My philosophy on appendices in fiction writing is there shouldn't be any; either you want that information in your story or you don't.

This was the same situation I ran into with Infinite Jest, which contains 1,150 pages, but I only count as having read 1,079; there were 70 pages of footnotes. I've tried to imagine Hemingway having an appendix or two in The Old Man and the Sea. I then shudder.

I'm flying to Victoria tonight, and plan to make my decision before I leave for the airport. I will bring both books with me however.

And from this testimony of your own sex,

Thinking back to my previous read, Under the Net, it dawned on me that there was something fairly unique about it, that being it featured a male protagonist but was written by a woman.  And this would be the same case the other way, a male author writing a female character; it doesn't happen very often.

Looking back at the 58 books I've read so far, I only see two other books that truly fit into this category.  Number 56, Death Comes for the Archbishop, was entirely about a man, written by Willa Cather, while Atonement centers around a young woman, written by Ian McEwan.  There may be a couple of others I suppose, as one could argue that Paul Bowles' The Sheltering Sky featured a female protagonist, but I would respond by saying that although Kit had the most 'screen' time, she wasn't the main character.  And while Lena Grove is quite central to Light in August, she takes a seat to some of the more powerful characters in that book.

Thinking about it, it makes sense this would be the case, as one tends to be more familiar with their own sex, and hence better able to write a character that shares that trait.  It reminds me of a great Hemingway quote about a writer being able to omit a lot of details, "If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them."  While I think he was probably more talking about plot or settings, the same would apply to characters.  Naturally, a woman would know more about being a woman, which would show through her writing.

Of course this isn't to say that one can't write a character of a different gender, and there are no shortage of examples.  Atticus Finch is one of the giants of fiction, written by Harper Lee, ditto for Rhett Butler written by Margaret Mitchell.  But in neither case are they the central character of the book, no matter how important they were.

But I wonder why Under the Net made me think about this, when clearly there are other examples.  Never once do I remember pondering this question after finishing Atonement or Death Comes for the Archbishop.  I think the reason is that neither of those books featured a character I really enjoyed reading.  Jake Donaghue was one of my favorites so far and really sticks out in my mind, while the Archbishop and Briony do not.  In fact, I already don't remember the Archbishop's name (or if it was even given) and I'm not a hundred percent sure that Briony is correct (it is, but I had to look it up and probably wouldn't have remembered if I hadnt' found it such an odd name).

I also think the above Hemingway quote is bang on in this instance.  While Willa Cather was fascinated and well educated in the setting and time period in which she placed her novel, perhaps she wasn't as much an expert on the male psyche.  Conversely, I would never have guessed Under the Net was written by a woman, had that not been completely obvious from the cover and multiple other sources.  So many of Jake Donaghue's thoughts made me feel as if somebody understood how I thought things through.  Ironically this is what two people have told me was the reason they loved To the Lighthouse so much.  Perhaps that's why I didn't; I'm not a woman from the early 20th century.

As an update to my reading, Revolutionary Road is excellent.  And while there have been some rather intense moments, I haven't felt the need to use my cyanide pill yet.  However, I know things are going to turn for the worse, and the set-up is already there for it to be a complete nosedive (the mood, not the quality).

A goodly house: the feast smells well;

I've nearly finished my 37th book, The Sportswriter, with only a few dozen pages left.  I'm still not sure what I think of it as a book.  There are times when I'm mesmerized and can't put it down, and there are times I find it drags a little.  But all in all, it's one I'm enjoying, even though it doesn't really have anything to do with sports.

It has also provided me with two links to other books on The List, which for some reason I find really interesting.  I don't know why, but it seems odd or funny to me, that a book from a list of great books, would mention other books from the same list.  It first happened in The Corrections, when one of the characters was reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  In The Sportswriter, Frank, the protagonist, is asked how long it has been since he read The Sun Also Rises.  He doesn't recall, but figures it's probably been quite some time.  For me, I read it last September, #17 on my list.  Later on in the novel, Frank is listening to the radio, where a feminist announcer is reading dirty passages from Tropic of Cancer, my 10th read. If I had never read this book, I wouldn't really know what he was talking about.  I suppose, in a way, I can thank The List for making me a little smarter.  Or maybe just a little more aware.

While reading The Sportswriter I have also continued my plan of reading a non-fiction book at the same time.  Yesterday, I was able to finish A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway.  Another book that mentions The Sun Also Rises, but I guess that's to be expected.  The book is really an account of Hemingway's time in Paris in the mid-20's while he was working as a foreign correspondent for the Toronto Star Weekly.

Really, this book reads just like one of Hemingway's novels with short, too-the-point dialogue, and limited descriptions about settings or surroundings.  Hemingway talks about his experiences in Paris, being what he describes as 'very poor and very happy.'  He talks of the people he spent time with, most notably Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound and F. Scott Fitzgerald.  It is the chapters about Fitzgerald I found particularly interesting.  Hemingway really paints an almost pathetic picture of the writer.  He describes him as a drunk and a  hypochondriac, who has very little self esteem and is basically an all-around helpless human being.  I think of The Great Gatsby and how it is received today and wonder how somebody like the man Hemingway describes, could write such a masterpiece.

#36 - "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie" by Muriel Spark

I finished my 36th book from The List, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie in just over a week.  Not bad I suppose, but it's one I probably could have finished in a day or two if I had put my mind to it.  While reading Gone with the Wind, my previous book, there was a sense of duty.  I had to read so many pages each day, or I'd never reach the end.  But with this book, at a mere 171 pages, there wasn't any urgency in my reading habits.  I would sort of think to myself, 'if I don't read anything today, it's okay, as I can easily make up for it tomorrow.'  And before long, a week had passed.  I actually read the last 100 or so pages in one day.  Something I could have done a week ago.  Oh well.

I found this to be a little bit of a different read.  Spark tends to get to the point, which is probably why the book is so short.  In a way, the style reminds me a little bit of Hemingway.  Miss Jean Brodie is a teacher at a girl's school in Edinburgh, in the early 1930's.  She proclaims to be in 'her prime' and feels she can teach her students more than just the three R's.  Hand-picking six students, who go on to be known as 'the Brodie set,' she thrives on making these girls 'la creme de la creme.'  She takes the girls to many extra curricular activities, like the theatre, art shows and golfing.  Slowly, a deep bond forms between teacher and students.

But through a series of prolepsis (a new word I learned meaning flash-forward), we learn that eventually, Miss Brodie will not only be dismissed from the school, but that it was one of the girls from her set that would betray her.

My first reaction to this book upon finishing it, was admittedly, that it was nothing special.  A short little story about some girls in Scotland.  It was an alright read, but nothing more.  But the more and more I've thought about it, the more I've come to appreciate how clever the story is and how complex the characters are.  Jean Brodie herself, at first seems to be nothing more than a rather confident young teacher, with a more liberal attitude than would be expected at the time.  But as her betrayal unfolds, we realize that she is really quite 'a ridiculous woman' and perhaps not a very good teacher either.  She manipulates and exploits her students for her personal and professional gain.

The students themselves also appear to be nothing more than typical ten year old children.  But we learn about their growth and how Miss Brodie's unconventional teachings shape them as young woman.  As they become more self aware, they begin to see things a little clearer.  They slowly realize that Miss Brodie was not all she made herself out to be, and one even sets out to bring her down.  In reality, it is Miss Brodie who brings about her own betrayal, but like the loud, obnoxious person at the office, who never understands why they always eat lunch alone, Miss Brodie seems genuinely confused as to who from her set would do such a thing to her, or why they would do it.



You can read TIME's original review from January 19, 1962 here.


I have started Richard Ford's 1986 novel, The Sportswriter.  While there are a few Pulitzer Prize-winning novels from this list (9 to be exact), The Sportswriter shares a more unique distinction.  Along with John Updike's Rabbit, Run, they are both books from The List, whose sequels were awarded the Pulitzer Prize.  Updike won for both Rabbit at Rest and Rabbit is Rich, while Richard Ford won for his follow up novel, Independence Day.

#17 - "The Sun Also Rises" by Ernest Hemingway

I have now finished reading Ernest Hemingway's first novel, and only novel on The List; The Sun Also Rises.  Myself, I'm a fan of Hemingway's writing style, but I know it isn't for everybody and I find people either love him or hate him.  I once recommended A Farewell to Arms, to someone, saying how great it was and how I couldn't put it down.  They returned it two days later, having read about thirty pages and saying they couldn't take it anymore.  I like it, but I can understand not liking Hemingway's style.

The Sun Also Rises is the story of ex-pat Jake, who lives in Paris and seems to lead quite the life of leisure, all whilst keeping a job with an English newspaper in the French capital.  His days are taken up with drinking, eating and meeting with friends; usually to continue eating and drinking.  They seem to lead the same lifestyle as the characters in Tropic of Cancer, who were also ex-pats, living in Paris, spending their time eating and drinking.  Hmmm...perhaps I should have been born around the turn of the century, so I could have moved to Paris in the 20's.  I too enjoy eating and drinking.

Looking for a break from Paris (not eating and drinking), Jake and his friends Bill, Robert and Lady Brett Ashley take a trip to Spain, to partake in the Fiesta of San Fermin in Pamplona, which again involves eating and drinking, but also bull fighting.  Hemingway himself was a known fan of bull fighting, and this seems to be his ode to the sport.  He speaks eloquently of the majesty of bull fighting, and to be honest, reading this book has made me want to take in a fight myself.  While at the fiesta, Jake and his friends experience a roller-coaster of emotions, but despite the ups and downs, they all seems to have a good time in the end.  I could be more specific, but there isn't really any point.  In the end, not much really happens, but I still enjoyed reading it very much.  The story was still interesting, more as a result of the characters and Hemingway's short and to the point descriptions.  But like his other novels, I foresee a lot of people not liking this book at all, while others will praise it till the cows come home.

Now, I have a confession.  The entire time I was reading this book, I kept wondering why Jake and Brett didn't "hook up."  They both profess their love to each other several times throughout the book and they seemed to be very compatible together.  However, while Brett sleeps with almost every man she encounters, Jake never takes beds any women.  He even picks up a prostitute in Paris, but only takes her out for dinner and drinks.  Until the very end, I was still thinking the two would get together and perhaps live happily ever after, but alas, it never happened.  After I had finished the book, I began my secondary research on the novel and much to my surprise, I learned that Jake was impotent from a war injury, and hence, he wasn't hookin' up with anybody.  I don't know how I missed this, as every review I read, this was basically mentioned in the first line.

From Time Magazine:

"Meet Jake Barnes: working journalist, expatriate, tough talker, tragic hero. Jake was horribly wounded in the war — in fact, he was effectively gelded."

Wikipedia:

"The narrator of The Sun Also Rises is Jake Barnes, an expatriate journalist in his mid-twenties who lives in Paris. Barnes is impotent because of a war wound..."

Well, you get the idea.  Everybody seemed to have picked up on this except me, even Wikipedia!  Oh well, I guess I can't absorb everything, including major plot elements.  It makes a lot more sense now, knowing that two people, in love, we're never going to end up together, but didn't take away from the book, as I still enjoyed it.  I hope when I read Nineteen Eighty-Four, I realize it isn't about Winston Smith's husky sibling.


You can read Time Magzine's original review from November 1, 1926 here.


My next book will be I, Claudius, the book I had intended to read had I not fogotten to take it with me to BC.

O, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine

I spent the weekend in the mountains, which is why I had been able to finish Lucky Jim so quickly.  If only I could spend more time on vacation, I could probably finish this list in less than four years!  Anyway, I had made sure to bring two books with me on this little trip, in case I was able to finish the first.  In this case, the second book was to be  I, Claudius, which I had picked up from the library at the same time.  However, despite have placed the book in a prominent position near the door, to make sure I didn't forget it, it somwhow didn't make it into my bag.  I was now faced with over 24 hours in the mountains without anything from The List to read.

It was then I remembered the bookshelf in my room, which was filled with an assortment of fiction and non-fiction books, including an old copy of The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway.  The List would be able to continue unabashed for the rest of the weekend.

I've liked all the Hemingway books I've read in the past, and this is one of the few I haven't read.  So this should not only allow me to continue to read, but also to continue to make good progress, as I expect to like this one as well, and naturally I read books I enjoy a little faster.  I, Claudius will have to be #18.