Deja Everything by Adam Hammer (1978)

The only full-length book published by American surrealist poet Adam Hammer (1948-1984).

Poetry Review: Deja Everything is surrealism with a devious sense of humor, a sneaky sense of meaning, and a subtle heart. This small book is dedicated to Willie Mays, if that tells you anything, and it's almost impossible to find. There weren't that many printed in the first place, and doubtless the vast majority of the copies of this little 68-page paperback were lost. Or its owners love the book so much they'll never part with it; like me. Hammer has his own unique voice, but was influenced by poets such as Bill Knott and Thomas Lux (who edited Knott's recently released, posthumous Selected Poems on FSG). Seeing the ghost of Bill Knott (who outlived Hammer) peek out from one of Hammer's poems is like seeing two old friends sharing a bottle of lube oil. These days it would probably be craft lube oil. Here's a short poem entitled "History of Love": "I love springtime! you cried/ and it was wonderful indeed/ the bees were playing their little guitars ...". But Hammer (also known as Juan Carlos) doesn't write just any sort of surrealism, Deja Everything contains surrealism that provides its own meaning, like an Impressionist painting that hints at its foggy subject. As he wrote: "I wonder if it's possible/ to write a poem that is perfectly clear/ After all, poetry is a sort of mist/ No one really understands the way his work is ignored." There is also feeling, genuine feeling here, without (much) irony, so the reader knows there's a person, not a PC, behind these poems. A funny, angry, lost, naively smart, bitter, baseball-loving person. These poems also reveal a mind with a pinball-like vocabulary and the ability to elicit laughter from nowhere. Surrealists must wander the streets with a black leaf bag looking for that one right, but almost never connected, word for their next masterpiece. Hammer writes: "Politely does stained glass appear: ... O Lobster who is currently enjoying stained glass!" But why am I writing about a lost poet who died young in a country of forgotten, lost, dead poets. A poet who wrote one book on a small press with a limited press run? Who once edited the literary journal Gumbo with Yusef Komunyakaa, who lived to became everything that Hammer didn't. Every year hundreds or thousands of small books of poetry are published, doomed to be read (at most) by the poet's friends, family, and nearby poets. Most are fanatically mediocre, and virtually all will be quickly forgotten. But Deja Everything was a good book. Because sometimes a situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part. And I'm that somebody. Moments of brilliance should not be lost. As Hammer says, "The world is always ready for a new way of ignoring contemporary poetry." Books of poetry are lost everyday, and some, a few, shouldn't be. And this is my moment, of remembering a brilliant moment. [5★]

Men Without Women by Haruki Murakami (2014)

A collection of seven short stories revolving around the theme of damaged relationships between women and men.

Book Review: Men Without Women is my first book of Murakami short stories. I've read all but one of his novels (curse you 1Q84!), but I've read no other short stories so I can make no comparisons. For the most part, these stories don't wander into the fantastic and weird neighborhoods characteristic of many of his novels, and may be attractive to more readers as a result. Few of these stories have the idiosyncrasies that torment Murakami's novels. The book also isn't quite what the title promises. These are stories of isolated men and their involvement with women, all flawed more or less. The stories: a widower pondering his unfaithful wife; a most unexpected love triangle; a Casanova's rage at falling in love; a (distant and different) variation on Scheherazade; a man who doesn't dare face that he can't address his wife's betrayal; a homage to Kafka as only Murakami might do it; and a man's memories of a former lover after her suicide. Each of the seven stories in Men Without Women is written with Murakami's usual unique imagination, masterful language, and magnificent story-telling skills. Yet none are quite what might be expected from those brief descriptions. "Kino" was my favorite, "An Independent Organ" my least favorite, but all ignited thoughts and prompted worthwhile re-readings. There are more layers of this ogre than it may first appear. I need to mention the cover of Men Without Women, designed by Murakami's longtime designer, Chip Kidd. As you can see it's a silhouette of a man, missing a jigsaw puzzle piece. I just wondered what Kidd was thinking. Is the man without a woman, and so missing a part of himself? Or is the man missing something inside that frustrates his desire to connect with women? The same questions haunt these stories. [4★]

My Lost Poets: A Life in Poetry by Philip Levine (2016)

A posthumous collection of essays, lectures, and other prose by the former Poet Laureate of the United States, Philip Levine (1928-2015).

Book Review: My Lost Poets is wide-ranging, fun, and thoughtful. Just like Philip Levine himself. What I most enjoyed about this collection was learning more about Levine the person, not just the persona presented in his poetry. This Philip Levine loves jazz, I mean really loves jazz. He is an ardent but humble proponent of the working class, which we knew, but see him here as a person of beliefs, not simply as a poet. He remembers Detroit, the Spanish Civil War, many, many poets. He's open about his own flaws and limitation as a teacher and reader of poetry; there's no big head here. Self-deprecating and funny. Give him a book of Keats and he's a happy man. That's what I liked best, but what was most valuable is how on every other page Levine refers the reader to a poem, a poet, a place that needs to be found, read, understood. He includes whole poems, his own and others', and his analysis. He tells where he began, about his influences and those he influenced. In My Lost Poets Levine gives you an extensive reading list that'll open your eyes and make you think differently. The section on John Berryman was irresistible, and his honest but gentle assessments of other poets, both unknown and celebrated, are profound. This short book can help make you a better reader, poet, and person. [4½★]

Love and Freindship and other early works by Jane Austen (1922)

A collection of Jane Austen's work written when she was around 14 to 17 or so, but not published until long after her death.

Book Review: Love and Freindship (yes, that's the correct title) is not the acclaimed 2016 film by Whit Stillman; that movie is based on Austen's early novella, Lady Susan. This book contains four examples of Austen's juvenilia, including her "History of England." These stories are not lengthy, complete, or overtly similar to her later works (and her spelling needs work). What they are is clever, precocious, and laugh out loud funny. She has a wonderful sense of humor and the stories both entertain and amuse. The humor in Love and Freindship is much broader and more obvious than the scalpel skills and satire of her later work, but these stories too teem with parody, irony, and wit. That Austen's writing was so developed at such a young age surprised and amazed me, and the stories seem oddly modern (as her novels do not). For Austenites they also contain a number of hints, clues, and foreshadowings of her later novels, and are intriguing for that alone. The stories in Love and Freindship (that is so hard to misspell!) are not necessary for anyone except Austen completists, but they are certainly enjoyable and in no way a waste of the reader's time. My only complaint in that this 94 page book is too short, and there's plenty of space for more of Austen's juvenilia. In fact, I wonder if this edition is a truncated version of a longer work. In any event, this short book wonderfully augments and complements the Jane Austen creations we know and love. [3★]

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte (1848)

A beautiful, mysterious woman in a ruined mansion hides a painful past.

Book Review: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is its own book, just as Anne Bronte is her own author. The novel only skirts the edges of the Gothic tale, but is far too honest and realistic for Austenland. The characters in an Austen novel would take to their beds for a year with nervous apoplexy and the vapors if confronted with the scenes found here; Anne's characters persevere. But the story fits well somewhere between a more realistic Austen and a less Gothic Bronte. The portraits of dissipation and dalliance are so realistic that I kept expecting an even greater realism, but even a Bronte couldn't be that far ahead of her time. But Anne's take on the rights and place of wives and women seems far ahead of her time, making this book simultaneously a "feminist" tract, a religious sermon, and a good read. The religious musings recall some of those in Agnes Grey, but Wildfell Hall is a quantum leap past that book (though I expect each has its die-hard partisans), less self-righteous, less tunnel vision. Still, it's a Victorian novel with its long discourses, rambling plot, and minute examination of the world before it, but the you-are-there descriptions of drunken parties and marital cruelty takes the reader past the expected. My favorite part of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, though, is that a woman, Mrs. Graham, is the Heathcliff or Rochester character. She is mysterious, uncompromising, serious, demanding, harsh, even unreasonable, and yet the object of desire. She is Anne Bronte's indelible creation. Although sometimes too good to be true (but consistent with the character), at other times she does not seem good at all. That's the cream in the coffee of this book. There are weaknesses. The early chapters written as letters from a man to his friend didn't ring true, these were not the letters of a man who would savagely beat a friend; they just didn't ring true -- the book really hit its stride when the narration switched to the pages from a woman's diary. From that point on it was hard to stop reading. Most of the men in the book are clods or cads, even the supposedly sensitive, loving ones. But these minor points didn't detract much from the story. This book makes clear that if not exactly their equal, Anne Bronte deserves to be seen as a full partner in the Bronte sisters. [3½★]

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (1953)

In an unspecified future, when someone reports that a house is abook, the fire department will arrive to burn them.

Book Review: Fahrenheit 451 is a book about burning books. For a book lover this has to be the quintessential horror novel, being burned alive surrounded by our precious. But here it's not fascists randomly building bonfires, it's an arm of the government doing its legal duty. But in the social media era, literary suppression no longer comes from the government banning or burning books (or melting Kindles into goo), but from public shaming. There are no books written that worry the government, and those in power attack their foes on Twitter. The literary works that get attacked by vicious but sheep-like hordes are those that fail to meet some popular consensus of what is acceptable. There's something in us that wants to mob together to attack the defenseless under the guise of doing good. Issues like slavery, sex trafficking, and a proto-fascist government can be comfortably ignored when we can band together in smug, self-righteous fury to harass writers who don't write as we think they should. There's no need to burn books or beat people in the streets any longer, social media allows us, in our anonymous mobs, to publicly shame the hapless into oblivion. I'd always thought that Fahrenheit 451 was related in some way to the McCarthy and HUAC hearings, but according to Bradbury it had more to do with lack of education, television, and the numbing of the American mind. All of which can lead to situations such as McCarthyism and the HUAC hearings. Or where we are today. As our government knows, the shallowly educated populace will immobilize itself over popular trends, while those in power get richer, more powerful, and can safely proceed with their war on women, sexual orientation, and those with disabilities (what do you think a preexisting condition is?). I read this as a young teenager and remember it having a strong effect on me, worrying about a future in which this could happen. I've also seen the 1966 movie with Oscar Werner and Julie Christie, which though different than the novel, still created dread and apprehension. To me this is more a message book, than a pure work of art. Bradbury is a fine writer and can make anything into novelized poetry, but it seems his main purpose is more to convey his message than tell some elemental story. Fahrenheit 451 is a classic because it conveys a universal warning, tells us to be alert to the dangers of a government that destroys knowledge, that is afraid of learning, that denies history, that discredits science. This kind of dystopian book warns us that overreacting is only common sense, given the alternative. An important book. [4★]

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (1847)

A Gothic horror revenge tale of cosmic love thwarted and cursed unto the next generation.

Book Review: Wuthering Heights is not what most readers expect, if what readers are expecting is a love story. It's a story of love destined but denied, which soon breaks the thin line between love and hate, involving preternatural forces of nature and a battle of tooth and claw survival. Hallmark has published an edition of Wuthering Heights composed solely of the love story of Cathy and Heathcliff: it's 61 pages long (with large print and margins). This book is not that love story. Here there is no choice, no free will -- Cathy and Heathcliff are cosmically in love (see Chapter IX), but both are too flawed (Heathcliff's violent temper and moods; Cathy's flightiness and heedless selfishness), so their love fails cataclysmically. Perhaps their love is unholy, as they love each other more than they love God (a sin raised by Anne Bronte in Agnes Grey). Their thwarted love is tainted, becomes twisted and torn, and the three families involved are punished by revenge to the next generation, in which all three children must suffer exile, pay penance, and endure. Or not. I've read Wuthering Heights twice and the two reading experiences couldn't have been more different: the first being dark, dreary, and slow, aghast at the implied violence. The second was quick and clear and I found genius on every page. Charlotte Bronte has suggested that Emily was some untutored soul who wrote from instinct and emotion, but I think the words on the page deny that, as this is a careful and brilliant work. Anyone who's read Emily's poems knows the care and wonder that goes into her words (why Emily Bronte isn't as much celebrated as a poet as her American namesake and twin, Emily Dickinson, born 12 years later, is beyond me). This is a brilliant book, a work of genius, but it is not a romance, not a love story. Buyer beware.  [5★]

FilmLit: To Walk Invisible - The Bronte Sisters (2016)

Film Review: To Walk Invisible has a perfect cast, flawless acting, impeccable sets. A two-part, two-hour show, it's as finely crafted as we've come to expect from BBC productions. Although covering about three years in the lives of Charlotte, Emily, Anne, their brother and father, even more of their story is brought in by reference and flashback. In fact, the writer seems to have tried to include as much of their biography as possible in the confines of these two hours. To Walk Invisible is well-constructed, showing the obstacles the sisters faced in their time ("to walk invisible" refers to the necessity as authors of hiding their gender) without melodrama, creating solid individual personalities for the sisters and the other characters, and giving the whole an authenticity and verisimilitude that never wavers. I will never think of Charlotte Bronte again without seeing Finn Atkins' portrayal, and Anne Bronte was what I would have imagined, if I had imagined. Chloe Pirrie is brilliant as Emily, although she is presented as far more robust than I would've expected. There are some differences from the standard Bronte biography (Emily and Anne, the two youngest, were known to be inseparable; Mr. Bronte was considered more eccentric than shown), but none that rang false and it's evident that the writer did her research. There are moments of laughter and keen wit, and moments that brought tears. Fine writing. There are only two small complaints, neither of which seriously marred the film. First, the flashbacks to childhood were bizarre, a cross between Hogwarts and a fever dream. The second is that too much of the film is given over to the brother's story. More time devoted to Charlotte, Emily, and Anne, and a little less to the pitiful, dipsomaniac Branwell would have made a better film. Additionally, the suggestion is made that their brother crumbled under the pressures put on him, when other sources say that it was Branwell himself who proclaimed his genius loudly and often. But this is nitpicking. To Walk Invisible is a wonderful, entertaining, and excellent film!  🐢

The Grifters by Jim Thompson (1963)

A successful, small-time con man tries to make a change in his life, but fate is hard.

Book Review: The Grifters is my first Jim Thompson novel. Unfortunately I saw the 1990 film version with Anjelica Huston and John Cusack a few years ago, and that left me unable to give the book a truly fresh reading; from what I remember the movie stayed fairly close to the book. This is a gritty, street tough novel that seems to know what it's talking about, with just enough intelligence to make the reader feel good about reading it (I mean, come on, he mentions Dostoyevsky -- how often did Mickey Spillane do that?). Contrary to the usual noir genre, our protagonist in The Grifters is not a tough guy, doesn't carry a gun, and delivers no punches. He's no Mike Hammer. In fact he gets beaten more than doing the beating up. Thompson throws in the unexpected with ease and moves the story along at a steady pace. It had a twisted James M. Cain feel about it that I liked, and that's a compliment. There are themes and issues that I wouldn't expect from a crime noir novel that's doing its best to be pulp fiction, with depths that take a while to sink in and that I didn't see while reading. After a near-death incident our "hero" has to make a decision, and he's challenged by three women (representing his past, present, and future), each of whom confront him with the choices he can make. The meaning of life, the future, what do we want out of life, these are just some of the issues we get to think about. I think if I hadn't previously seen the film, The Grifters would have been even stronger and hit me a little harder. This was a good read; I want to read more Jim Thompson. [3½★]

The Bat by Jo Nesbo (1997)

Oslo detective Harry Hole arrives in Sydney to investigate the murder of a Norwegian woman, and must decipher both Australia and the mind of the murderer.

Book Review: The Bat was belatedly translated into English in 2012, and it quickly becomes clear why. This is the best poorly written book I've ever read. I'm told by those of the Norwegian persuasion that to know Harry Hole one must read the first two "lesser" books in the series. That's a tall order. I have to read two books to get to the good ones? Okay, one down. On the plus side our hero is flawed and interesting as a stranger in a strange land, mainly because Australia itself is always interesting. On the negative side is just about everything else. An awkward and implausible love story, an awkward and implausible murderer who most readers will identify quickly, and awkward and (somewhat) implausible characters who bump into each other as though wearing blindfolds (or is Nesbo saying that Norwegians have minimal interpersonal skills?). To his credit, Nesbo works hard to insert every literary requirement into The Bat. It's as though he read several books on how to write a novel, and carefully ticked the boxes for each one. Twice. The reader clearly sees Nesbo grinding away behind the scenes dutifully writing his novel. He's a worker. Seriously. Initially, I thought the problem might be the translation, and working through Norwegian in British English (are the Britishisms in the Norwegian?) may have been a challenge, but I can't blame the translator (Don Bartlett). This is just a first novel. Of its time. That said, I had no trouble reading The Bat and didn't hate it at all (Australians may have their own opinions -- the country that's a continent doesn't come off well here). Next up for me is book number two, Cockroaches: "Harry goes to Thailand." All I can say is the third book better be darn good. [2½★]

Still Life by Louise Penny (2005)

An elderly and beloved member of the community is found dead in a rural village south of Montreal; Inspector Gamache is called to investigate.

Book Review: Still Life is the first of Louise Penny's Inspector Gamache mysteries, and a worthy start at that. The book focuses on the characters, setting up a wide array of interesting and diverse inhabitants of the village (and the investigative team) for the reader to get to know and like, or maybe not like quite so much. This is one of those books in which the reader finds a favorite character and enjoys checking in on that person every so often (my favorite was Ruth) while reading. For those who prefer plot to character, Still Life may not be the book for you. And if you like your detectives hard-boiled, the zen-like Inspector Armand Gamache may be just a little too mellow. This was intended as a vacation read for me, and it worked well, keeping me reading, and even though the reader may solve the mystery long before the police, it was still engaging in a low-key way. This is a cozy Canadian mystery, and what I enjoyed most was the insight into Canadian life, and the interesting and unique relationship between French and English Canadians, of which I was mostly unaware. I also learned some about archery. For the most part this is a quiet book (hence the name?), not a lot of heart-racing moments, with just enough suspense to keep the pages turning. As this is the first book of a series, it'll be interesting to see how the series and characters develop, and how much of Still Life was table setting for what's to come. Even more interesting for me, was that there were many Canadians (altho mostly from Western Canada) where I was staying -- just an added treat. [3★]