The Book

The Goods: Generally credited as the origin of the true crime genre, In Cold Blood is a Truman Capote’s non-fiction novel detailing the grisly 1959 murders of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, as well as Capote’s study of the two killers.

The Report: Despite the face that we’re living in an age awash with all things true crime, book club was impressed with In Cold Blood, and found the experience of reading it chilling and a little creepy.  Nonetheless, many of us found it impossible to discuss this novel without discussing how it was written: Capote’s methods, his interpretation of the events, and his relationship to the real-life killers.

Thoughts about the book from our collective book club brain…

Whose story is this? By and large, we found Capote’s pacing and nearly insufferable attention to the details of the Clutters’ lives in early part of the novel to be super effective in evoking dread.  We also found the back stories he related about the killers, Dick Hickok and Perry Smith, to be very compelling.  But many of us were less-than-comfortable with the narrative at the end of the novel, which seemed preoccupied with Capote’s psychological interpretation about why the killers did what they did as well as the shortcomings of the justice system.  At the end of the novel, we wondered: whose story is this, anyway?

Well, it’s Capote’s story, in many ways. Despite the fact that he doesn’t appear in the novel, Capote is all over the place, making choices and controlling the narrative.  We all found places in the novel where we sort of had ‘gotcha’ moments, realizing that Capote was making a dramatic choice, or investing a character with a certain motivation, etc.  In particularly, we pointed to the expectation that Capote created about which of the killers pulled the trigger/made the decision to start killing (I won’t disclose this here in case any of gentle readers haven’t read the novel yet), only to disclose a long way into the novel the truth – a strong narrative choice that points to just how strongly controlled the novel is.

Shocking.  We wondered, at length, about how shocking this novel would have been to read when it was first published (or even when it was serialized in The New Yorker).  It seems as if In Cold Blood was published at a crossroads in American culture: a cold-blooded murder in the heartland of the country six years before it was published, and the Helter Skelter of the late sixties just a few years away.  In our world of Dateline NBC, everything is shocking, and so not much seems shocking in the way that In Cold Blood must have felt (although, certainly, plenty of crimes seem disconcerting and tragic).

Capote Vs. Infamous.  Nearly everyone had seen Capote (2005), starring Philip Seymour Hoffman as Capote and Catherine Keener as Harper Lee (and all agreed: it’s a great movie).  But a few of us made a strong case that nobody should pass over  Infamous (2006), with Toby Jones as the writer (appropriately short for the role, especially as compared to Hoffman), Sandra Bullock as Harper Lee and a knockout, charged performance from Daniel Craig as Perry Smith.  I was truly not alone in thinking that Bullock made an absolutely fetching Harper Lee.

Fine Linkage of George and Truman:  Our host sent along this very insightful George Plimpton interview with Truman Capote from 1996.

Hey, It’s a Bonus H.P. Lovecraft Story!

As were were meeting in Red Hook for book cub this month (and just a few days after Halloween), we decided to throw in a bonus: the 1925 short story, “The Horror at Red Hook” by H.P. Lovecraft.  It’s kind of a terrible story, but I include it here because it was hilariously terrible: full of overblown descriptions of the evil underbelly of the Red Hook neighborhood and rampant racist and xenophobic descriptions of the cultish evil-worshipping inhabitants of said neighborhood.  Yet, for those of familiar with that area of Brooklyn, it was kind of a hoot to read Lovecraft’s descriptions of streets and alleys that were never as dirty as he imagined (and certainly not evil) and are rapidly gentrifying now.

It was also fun to introduce book club to the tentacled phenomenon of Lovecraft’s Cthulhu.  As a super bonus for this post, I’d like to share a photo I snapped at a convention a few years ago of a homemade Pokethulhu model.  Cute!  Tentacled! Demonic!  (I admit that I didn’t write down who actually made this model, but if you’re reading this and the model below is your Pokethulhu, let me know!)

Next up: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith!  I’m sure there will be less killing and demons...

The Goods: Half the Sky is both an investigation into women’s oppression worldwide and a moving call to action to economically and socially empower women in developing countries – not just because it’s the morally correct thing to do, but also because the authors believe that it’s the most effective way to fight poverty and extremism.  To make their case, Pulitzer-Prize winning authors Kristof and WuDunn focus on three major issues facing women around the world — forced prostitution and sex trafficking, gender violence, and maternal mortality — blending grim reportage and ample statistics with individual stories of women who are triumphing over their circumstances and making real change for their families and communities.  The authors also observe and report on the pros and cons of varied international development/aid strategies and argue that grassroots, ground-up activism and support is the most effective way to fuel change.

The Report: Thanks to the smart thinking of one of our readers, we decided to take a break from our normal fictions to read Half the Sky, and use the occasion as a fundraiser for Mercy Corps.  (Hooray for reading!)  Like most non-fiction, Half the Sky presents a bit of a challenge for book club discussion.  We wondered: should we talk about how the book is written?  Should we talk about the issues and stories covered in the book?  Should we talk about our reactions to those issues and stories?  In the end, our discussion was pretty far-reaching, touching a lot on comments about the methods and approach used by the authors.  Many of us found ourselves invoking old, college-aged questions about cultural relativity, as well as questions about rights vs. rescue,  international context, and the nearly-absent investigation into mens’ accountability, only to set aside our potential critiques in the face of the many stunning achievements of Half the Sky.  Because, in the end, we all agreed: this is one powerful, moving book, and it’s all the more impressive because it’s an engaging read – at times uplifting – and it motivates the heck out of you to do something (and gives you concrete ideas about what to do).  So, yes, we all had our own questions for the book, but mostly we had questions for ourselves: what shall we do and when shall we do it?  That, to me, is a great measure of success for Kristof and WuDunn’s book.  And so I’ll keep my recap of Half the Sky here brief, as I’d simply encourage you all to pick up a copy of it and consider donating to one of the many worthwhile aid organizations doing the critical work described in its pages.

The Book

The Goods: I am Not Sidney Poitier is – blarg – a bit hard to blurb. It’s the story of a young man named Not Sidney Poitier who looks, in fact, an awful lot like Sidney Poitier, and his coming-of-age, which the author (Percival Everett, not to be confused with the novel’s character Percival Everett, who turns up throughout the story along with a hilarious fictional version of Ted Turner) casts as an intertextual adventure through Sidney Poitier films. (Did the best I could, briefly.)

The Report: Book club really enjoyed I am Not Sidney Poitier. We found it nearly impossible, though, to talk about the novel without moving the conversation into more theoretical territory: what postmodern narratives can or can’t achieve; why our approaches to the book may have created very different types of enjoyment (some readers felt that this was an enjoyable, thoughtful text that ultimately didn’t move them while others – okay, really just ME — felt greatly moved by the identity crisis at the heart of the novel AND how that may have been informed by our relationship to literature/film in general); and how literature constructs identity and race. But we did also talk about THE book!

Thoughts about the book from our collective book club brain…

WTF, Percival Everett? Discussion quickly honed in on trying to understand some of the narrative logic of I am Not Sidney Poitier. Doing some research on Poitier films was very useful: in addition to the novel’s obvious film references (Lillies of the Field, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner and In the Heat of the Night), we also managed to identify references or allusions to The Defiant Ones, A Patch of Blue, Buck and the Preacher, Let’s Do It Again, and Stir Crazy, and we’re sure that there’s others. Understanding Everett’s use of Poitier films made things a bit clearer, but also raised lots of questions about how we’re ‘supposed’ to read the novel. I was more excited than most, because this kind of narrative treasure hunting is something I really enjoy, but I also understand why others feel that needing to track down the intertexuality calls into question the very success of the story. In any case, we agreed that despite the fact that the novel is wicked smart, funny, and uses Poitier films in a really interesting way, it still seemed lacking at times.

Wicked funny wordplay. Already mentioned it, but we couldn’t emphasize enough Everett’s funny and skillful play with language. One member has recommended this book to friends on the strength of this alone.

Identity crisis! The novel plays with identity in ingenious and vaguely maddening ways. I feel inadequate in my ability to convey our conversation about this in a blog post, but suffice to say we all agreed that Everett riffs awesomely on the concept of the unreliable narrator, blurs real/fictional personalities (the author himself, Ted Turner) and overturns a great many literary/film tropes about race. But I also think it’s important to share that I am Not Sidney Poitier resonated with many of us about our own mixed-up feelings about who and what we are supposed to be. In that way, our feelings about the novel were not just limited by our intellectual interest, which seemed to really dominate our reading and discussion.

Final thoughts: I am Not Sidney Poitier elicited the greatest range of reasons why people liked it that I’ve ever heard at a book club. It also elicited one of the most theoretical discussions of casual reading I’ve ever had with a group. I would have strongly recommended the novel anyway, but this makes me all the more excited to tell you that I would love for you to read it and let me know your thoughts.

Bonus recipe: Our gracious host served up some delicious homemade pizza, which seems like a rare treat in NYC. I wanted to share the recipe for her quick-rise pizza dough, because it was REALLY great. So, here you go: book club pizza dough!

• 1 pkg. dry yeast
• 3/4 c. very warm water (120-130 degrees)
• 2 c. flour
• 1 tsp. salt
• 1 tsp. sugar

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Soak yeast in water for 5 minutes. Add flour, salt and sugar and mix to blend. Knead for 2-3 minutes until flour is well blended. Cover and let rise in a warm place for 15 minutes. Roll dough to fit a 12 inch pizza pan. Top pizza with tomato sauce and toppings of your choice. Bake for 10-15 minutes or until the cheese is browned and bubbly. (Readers in high altitudes: you’ll be out of luck with this recipe. Sorry!)

Later this month: Half the Sky by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn!

The Book: Liberation: Being the Adventures of the Slick Six After the Economic Collapse of the United States of America by Brian Francis Slattery (2008)

The Goods: Liberation is speculative fiction that contemplates the aftermath of a complete American economic collapse. (Mind you, this novel was published before – and anticipated some of – the recession we actually saw this past year: creepy.) It’s a dystopian – but amazingly hopeful – vision of America where the institution of slavery has been re-established, starving communities struggle to rebuild, the New Sioux roam the plains, and New York is ruled by a villain named the Aardvark. It’s also a rousing adventure, and the action revolves around a gang of supercriminals called the Slick Six, who reunite to restore law and order. (Genre/Pynchon fans: If that doesn’t sound rad, I really don’t know how you define radness.)

The Report: This is the second time I’ve read Liberation (I interviewed the author earlier this year) and I was excited and a little nervous to discuss it with other readers, many of whom have much less of a predilection for sci-fi/pulp than I do. So I’m glad to report that book club was pretty enthusiastic about Liberation! It’s an ambitious novel – balancing a very thoughtful, smart consideration of the collapse of the USA with an entertaining heist plot (the supercrime, as one reader noted, essentially ends up being getting a check written) – and everyone was duly impressed at how well Slattery manages to pull it off.

Thoughts from the collective book club brain:

Slattery’s representation of slavery. In Liberation, the re-emergence of slavery is a very contemporary version of indentured servitude/forced labor, rather than that of the “peculiar institution” of 18th and 19th century slavery in America. This felt unexpected for some readers because Slattery is so effective at illustrating how the unfinished business of the Civil War continues to haunt us to this day. It’s a rather chilling proposition to think of people of means selling themselves into slavery because they suddenly find themselves with no resources and nowhere to go. As one reader commented, when two of the novel’s protagonists sell themselves into slavery in the strawberry fields of California, they’re living the worst imaginable migrant labor experience. It’s terribly moving.

This is not apocalypse porn. We seem to be inundated with books and movies obsessed with the end of the world, and many of them are highly invested in the spectacle of the apocalypse. Liberation stands out as a novel less interested in exploiting the pain of catastrophe than contemplating how communities rebuild. We spent a good bit of time discussing this point, and also about how we take for granted that America, as we know it, will continue in something approximating perpetuity. Slattery is particularly adept at cutting right to the heart of this assumption, illustrating that this grand project of the American union is no less subject to the same forces that have taken down other empires in the past. What Slattery does so well is avoid so much narrative hand-wringing about that and instead gets to the business of imagining (and I do mean ‘imagining’) some rebuilding.

The Aardvark. We loved this bad guy. (Ehren particularly loved him, thanks to his theory that he’s a nod to The Mule of Asimov’s Foundation series.) We loved how Slattery suggested that his rise to power made him more superbureacrat than supercriminal, and he ends up  increasingly concerned with governing (albeit, tyrannically) than criminaling. (“He’s like Giuliani!”)

Librarians will thrive after the apocalypse. Along with the party-loving inhabitants of Las Vegas (a nice nod to the tribes of Burning Man), the librarians of the New York Public Library find that the apocalypse gives them what they always wanted: the perfect, cloistered relationship with their books. That the public library continued to function was among our favorite details of the book.

Also awesome: the really reasoned and compassionate treatment of Marco-as-child-soldier-and-assassin; the heartbreaking relationships between the Slick Six; the Assassin; Maggot Boy Johnson (we wanted more of him!); Asheville as the last free state; the way music and other cultural products become central to the way people re-defined themselves in the wake of national collapse; and the gelato served by our book club host.

Less-than-thrilled about: Some concerns about The New Sioux and connotations about cultural essentialism; Maggot Boy Johnson (we wanted more of him!); the way the novel seemed to lose some narrative momentum by the end; and Tyrone Fly (his appearances didn’t quite work for some of us).

Fine Linkage: A number neat-o items/oddities reminded book club readers of Liberation, or vice versa, during this month of reading. Here are a few:

• ‘Recession Armada’ Of Empty Freighters Floats Off Asian Coast
• The Take (Documentary)
• Swimming Cities of Serenissima

Next month: In Cold Blood by Truman Capote!