To a well-worn friend: Travels with Charley, John Steinbeck, and the US of A

I do like the feel of a book once I’ve finished savoring it: worn like a favorite shoe. One can feel slight creases in the cover, perhaps a curled page or minor tear in the spine. Woe is the book that, once having been read could be returned to a store without question, not showing any mark upon itself expressing how it was once treasured, tossed in a bag, fallen from a bed, maybe wedged under papers on a desk and retrieved with tea-stained edges.

Of course, it does cause grief to see harm done to a favored text. One must never throw a book. Such blatant disrespect is not to be tolerated. One doesn’t wish to see a page torn or a cover harshly creased or a spine broken so one page is the constant middle. Rather, one hopes that through gentle wear and afternoons spent in a favorite resting place that the tome will emerge as worn as we: a bit older, having discovered some new wisdom, but never beaten or broken. Just cared for, sought, and enjoyed.

I wrote these thoughts after I finished reading a much worn copy of John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley: In Search of America last week. I picked it up after finishing Bill Bryson’s The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America which was an easy read but Bryson was so crabby the whole time that I needed something to clean my palette. I thought Steinbeck would cheer me up and I was right. I decided with Travels with Charley that I love John Steinbeck. I’ve always wanted to love a classic American author, someone who would make me feel like I’m really a part of the literary scene in our country because I understand his writing. I already love plenty of work by female authors so I was looking specifically for a male author. I tried loving Fitzgerald but nothing was as wonderful as The Great Gatsby and I tried loving Hemingway but I couldn’t figure out how.

I’ve found my old man in Steinbeck for his simple truths:

“…we do not take a trip; a trip takes us…”

“…in my own life I am not willing to trade quality for quantity.”

“A sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ.”

“There are as many worlds as there are kinds of days…”

Is that overkill? I don’t care. He chooses his words to exactly fit what he wants to say. He acknowledges his weaknesses and doesn’t apologize for them. He lays out his fears and his joys as equals. He is so genuine I feel as if I’ve met him just from reading this one book of his. (I’ve read others but Travels with Charley being something of a memoir is a bit more personal.)

Bryson, for his part, had some good things to say too when he wasn’t being such a grouch. He held me when he wrote: “I wanted to step outside my front door and be somewhere.” Isn’t that what we all strive for? Meaning in our lives? Can we find it in the spaces we inhabit? Can we make the spaces of our lives be somewhere? How?

Bryson, as I’ve mentioned in an earlier post, is quite funny. I particularly enjoyed his observation that “…American radio is designed for people who have already lost their minds” and I agree wholeheartedly but for one small detail: in Minnesota we are fortunate in that we have MPR and more specifically: The Current.

The Lost Continent (1989) and Travels with Charley (1969) share a common theme in that they are both about travels through the United States and even though neither of them had anything decent to say about Minnesota, they were neat paired together. I wonder had retrieved my copy of Kerouac’s On the Road (1951) from an old family friend if I could have had a travel trifecta. I read it many years ago and I think it might have been over my head. I love travel and the thrill of discovery and these three books allow for these joys when I don’t have the resources so thank you, gentlemen.

This is a particularly appropriate day for discussing discovery as it is the 25^th anniversary of the Challenger explosion and the death of seven NASA astronauts. There are many types of travel, many motivators and destinations, but none so heartbreaking as a journey that ends in violence and catastrophy. Some seek truth and others wonder; may our journeys always bring us safely home once more, wherever that may be.

Traveling mercies.

Best Love Story: Shakespeare vs. Austen...GO

When our club began, around a bonfire on an expectant May evening last spring, the idea was that we would challenge ourselves and one another, accompanied by like-minded folk and good things to eat and drink. For instance, none of us had read Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice which, to the three of us, seemed rather appalling. For my part, it had been assigned to the Advanced Placement English class when I was in high school and not being party to that particular curriculum, I figured I wasn’t really smart enough to handle it. As I approached the graduation date for my master’s work, I thought it might be that I am finally smart enough to read Austen and a dear friend convinced me that I might even enjoy it (thanks Liz!).

Needless to say, our first club read was Pride & Prejudice and I loved it. I think I’d like to give it another go, see what else I catch, but my earlier suspicions came to fruition: I was both capable and smitten. I am Elizabeth Bennett. Dear Mr. Darcy: Whatever you want. You got it. I’m yours.

Now, months later, I read Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet in preparation to see the show at the Guthrie Theater with my Love. As we read it together, me for the third time, I realized that I don’t actually like the story at all. Two teenagers give liberty to their hormones during a life stage when there is no room for compromise or accommodation, seek council from a priest with his own agenda, and, despite the autonomy they think they have from their social groups, feel they have no option but to kill themselves. This is awfully desperate if you ask me; and not the kind of sexy desperate in Sarah McLachlan’s “Possession,” but an unreasonable kind of desperate, like an overly tired, feverish four-year-old throwing a temper tantrum over a well-established bedtime routine. Dear Romeo and Juliet: You’re fourteen. Get over yourselves.

What Romeo & Juliet does have going for it is the amiable Benvolio, the ruthless Tybalt, the raucous Mercutio, and such brilliant writing as “Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man” and the whole “but soft!...” nonsense. Also Shakespeare. Who’s to argue with Bill anyway? No self-respecting indigenous English speaker would argue that he was brilliant with a pen, even if you don’t get it or enjoy it. Bravo sir.

After reading the books, one can move on to picking movies apart. Both stories have a modern version and a slightly less modern version. Let’s begin…

In seventh grade, in a private, Catholic school, it was thrilling even for me (a girl) to see Juliet’s boob. One boob. Wow, we’re adults now, the school says so. As if that wasn’t enough to handle as an adolescent, Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes had to go and make brilliant work out of the script with Baz Luhrman. As I watched the film again last week I thought: Boy were they devastatingly beautifully and stunningly talented. Yikes. Also Baz Luhrman is kind of awesome.

On to "Pride & Prejudice:” there is a five-hour, critically accurate BBC version and a more modern film starring Kiera Knightly. The BBC film boasts an exact portrayal of the text and made up for its length by employing Colin Firth to play Mr. Darcy. That was a wise choice. (Did you see him in “Love Actually?” “Bonita Aurelia…” sigh.) The second film, being not quite as true a reproduction, was visually more stunning, a bit darker with stronger sexual tension (see Sarah McLachlan’s “Possession” once again), and an almost-as-sultry-as-Colin-Firth-Mr.-Darcy in Matthew MacFayden. Also a wise choice.

Needless to say, Pride & Prejudice was my favorite all around: book, movie, story. The two stories really can’t be compared, they’re just so different. But as two of the greatest love stories ever told, comparisons are bound to be made. What are some of the other great love stories? Please share, especially if they are lovely like Pride & Prejudice and not ridiculous like Romeo & Juliet.

The Hunger Games

I've had a problem with reading lately. I can't seem to stick with one book and finish it. The books haven't been bad, it's just that the library keeps sending me ones from my request list, so I have to read those first before they are due. So even though my last post was at the end of December, there has been reading progress. The books in queue are Cleopatra, A Life; One, Two, Three, Infinity, Facts and Speculation of Science; Anne of Green Gables, Sherlock Holmes, and Shop Class as Soul Craft.

The latest diversion was a trilogy by Suzanne Collins called the Hunger Games Trilogy. It is a set of juvenile fiction books set in the near, post-apocalyptic United States. It's these types of books that make library waiting lists seem to take forever and tempt a person to go buy the series just to see what happens next. The story starts with The Hunger Games, continues with Catching Fire and ends with Mockingjay. The main charcter is teenager Katniss Everdeen. She's a female hero you root for, but probably would not want to be in her shoes.

For 74 years, what remains of the United States has been divided up into the Capitol and 13 districts. In an effort to keep the districts under control, The Capitol maintains propoganda and strict discipline to keep each district relying on help from the Capitol without having much to do with other district. To remind them of this reliance and warn against rebellion, the Capitol hosts the annual Hunger Games where a male and female teenager from each district is selected during the reaping and is sent to an arena to fight to the death during a televised "celebration." The first book features the 74th annual Hunger Games. During this episode, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark represent District 12 in a highly unusual Hunger Games.

In Catching Fire, Katniss' performance in the previous Hunger Games has sparked dissent in the districts. As part of her role as victor, she is to travel to the other districts for celebrations, even as she as to face the families of those she has killed in the Hunger Games. Despite warning and her best effort to avoid trouble, her presence inflames more people in the districts to rise against the Capitol.

With Mockingjay, the rebellion begins to take place. Secret alliances are brought to light and the series comes to a satisfying, if not happy, ending.

I realize I am being vague with the book descriptions, but I do not want to give anything away if you readers decide to try the series. Here's my warning: be prepared to start and finish a book in one day or you may have trouble sleeping as your brain tries to guess what will happen next.

A call to promiscuous readers: support your local bookseller

I had the great pleasure of visiting two independent booksellers that I claim as mine this week: Magers & Quinn in Uptown and Amazing Alonzo Paperback Exchange in Duluth. Before the holidays I made a trip to a retail behemoth that shall remain unnamed. As I searched in vain for something lovely, I shuddered as I walked through the children’s section: toys as far as the eye could see. Miles away from such aberrations, Magers & Quinn and Amazing Alonzo offer a respite from retail stores masquerading as booksellers to the masses.

Magers & Quinn is the largest independent bookseller in Minneapolis (as per their blog) and sell mostly used texts and new releases. Their staff is knowledgeable, unobtrusive, and congenial. The location is in trendy Uptown but don’t let this deter you: it is a space of genuine value to the community. The atmosphere within is one that could easily accommodate any bibliophile or promiscuous reader: good lighting, high shelves, narrow passages, and ample poetry and children’s sections (among others, these happen to be of particular interest to your author).

Last week my mother and I visited with no real aim but to find a treasure. I wanted something used, something carefully worn, something classic. I found Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese. The edition is thin and not altogether pretty, but the sonnets are punctuated with letters between Elizabeth and her husband, poet Robert Browning. When I finish reading Emily Dickinson’s collected works I’ll start this. It’s nice to be reading poetry alongside whatever else I am reading; plus poetry looks so lovely on a nightstand.

The other text I found was a true treasure: a copy of Longfellow’s collected works including “Paul Revere’s Ride” which sparked an intense love of history in my ten-year-old soul many years ago. The book is hardcover with sparse illustrations and has a little open-sided box to protect it (which itself is rather worse for the wear). Inside the front cover is scripted: June 1946 Happy Birthday Harley Love Aunt Flora. This was an intensely satisfying find and I would have bought it for that inscription alone had I not also wanted the book for my own shelf. (Detour: I encourage readers to explore the Forgotten Bookmarks blog.)

The next day I had the great joy of traveling to Duluth for a weekend with friends. This is an annual trip to our old college haunt and for the past couple years has been the only trip to Duluth that we make. I make a point of always stopping at Amazing Alonzo Paperback Exchange. This gem is on 19^th and Superior Street and is run by Barb Plumb who always remembers my name and asks after my family. Barb offers all her used books at 90% of their cover price with the exception of hardcovers which all sell for $3. Exchanged books gain you credit for 90% of their worth, which can be used toward 60% of any books you purchase. If it sounds complicated (or if I have it wrong) don’t worry about it, Barb will handle the arithmetic and you’ll get quality used books at a fantastic price.

Alonzo’s is deceptively delightful. It is a sunny cavern that meanders from the front room full of novels, biographies, westerns and classics, through a narrow hall lined with comedic and political texts, around a literarily congested corner full of how-to insights and spiritually inclined authors, into the back room, its shelves positively bursting with romance novels that sell by the grocery bag ($5). I found Louise Erdrich’s Antelope Wife and Gabriel Garcia Márquez’s Of Love and Other Demons. I haven’t read either but I plan to try loving them both. (Who couldn’t try to love anything written by the authors of The Master Butchers Singing Club and One Hundred Years of Solitude after all?)

The lesson is this: find yourself an independent bookseller or two and support them. Go to their events, exchange your books with them, buy your books from them, and treasure them as you would a dear friend. They do great service to the communities they inhabit simply by existing. Some are highly motivated and involved like Magers & Quinn, supporting book clubs, hosting speakers and events, and have an intense internet presence; others like Amazing Alonzo Paperback Exchange are hidden, belonging to their community alone, loved by as many people as their proprietor can accommodate, not inclined to stretch because they don’t need to, but comforting and sunny.

Supporting your local independent bookseller ensures that your community will maintain a house of value for bibliophiles and promiscuous readers. They tend to nurture well-informed and unabashedly open-minded folks who treasure even the worst sort of writing (thank you for that!) and the least important text with unadulterated joy. There is no pretense or judgment, read what you like and cherish it. Lest the behemoth bookstores squeeze out classic booksellers, save yourself and find a literary home in your community. Then tell me about it.