On James Hansen's "Storms of My Grandchildren" & The Folly of Creepers

So I just saw that the temperature reached 118 degrees in Phoenix yesterday (How can they stand it?) and is forecast to be at record levels all across the country, including where I am, in the Southwest, which by some measurements has already warmed by 1.5 degrees Fahrenheit in the last century. James Hansen is a famous climate change scientist and NASA chief, and his book Storms of My Grandchildren (2009) is about the crucial misinformation going on in politics, and especially the Bush administration, when scientists were regularly being censored by political hacks who didn’t like the truth about global warming and climate change. And although I’m an Obama supporter, I also agree with Hansen that Obama isn’t doing enough to steer us away from this catastrophe on our doorsteps. It’s good book, if a bit chatty and clumsy at times.
And it’s the kind of book members of Congress should be reading. But they’re not. Instead it seems even the Democrats, like Weiner, are wasting their time emailing photos of themselves to sweet young things. College students have recently taught me a new term: Creepers. It’s a term for people (pervs, most likely) who troll Facebook/Twitter etc. for girls and virtual sex. (Or for boys.) What strikes me about our politicians is that they seem to spend their time fundraising or ego-stroking when they need to be reading. But maybe I’m just old fashioned, and believe politicians should be reasonable, curious, intelligent human beings. What an idea.

Posted in books, Climate Change, The West | Leave a comment

Review of Stefan Merrill Block's "The Storm at the Door"

My review of Stefan Merrill Block’s novel The Storm at the Door appeared in the Dallas Morning News last Sunday, and can be found at this url:
http://www.dallasnews.com/entertainment/books/20110624-book-review-the-storm-at-the-door-by-stefan-merrill-block.ece
It’s an earnest novel about his grandparents’ lives, and at times I felt it suffered from his belief that his grandfather’s story (who was in a psychiatric facility in 1962, for exposing himself while drunk—in 2011 the clinic might have just been a rehab facility) was more important than it is, at least to me. There’s an evil psychiatrist who seemed like the wicked Dr. Chilton in The Silence of the Lambs, the second reference to that film/novel I’ve noticed this month.
Here’s the text version:
THE STORM AT THE DOOR/By Stefan Merrill Block
Random House; 368 pages, $25
The Madness in Families
Raised in Plano, author Stefan Merrill Block’s, “The Story of Forgetting,” was a critically acclaimed debut novel about the anguish of Alzheimer’s. His second novel, “The Storm at the Door,” is another in the recent trend of “fictional memoirs,” fiction based on actual events, in the vein of Jeanette Walls’ “Half-Broke Horses,” though much grimmer and inward-focused. It concerns the tortuous life story of Block’s grandparents—his grandfather, Frederick Merrill, emotionally disturbed and alcoholic, and his grandmother, Katharine, the long-suffering woman who eventually had enough.
Most of the story unfolds at the “fictional” Mayflower clinic, a psychiatric care facility near Boston, patterned after the famous McLean Hospital, in which Block’s grandfather was a patient in 1962. This mixing of fact/fiction is hit and miss. Frederick’s life is tragic in a familiar way: he drinks too much, seduces women while living as a (badly) married man, and indulges in various sins that family members might forgive and others simply dismiss as boorish behavior. He’s admitted into psychiatric care for indecent exposure, which he tries to portray as a “joke,” an alibi that many no doubt wish would get them off the hook.
At the Mayflower clinic, a villain emerges in the guise of Albert Canon, chief psychiatrist, who more closely resembles the despicable, self-centered Dr. Frederick Chilton in “The Silence of the Lambs” (1991). Canon’s sins are also familiar—punishing patients with electroshock therapy or solitary confinement, taking away their writing materials, picking on their emotional weaknesses. Guilty of his own bad behavior in an affair with one of assistants, Rita, Canon has no redeemable qualities, and at times seems a caricature of a quack academic psychiatrist. One scene in particular recalls Nurse Ratched in Ken Kesey’s classic “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” which is an awkward comparison, in that “Cuckoo’s Nest” is a much more daring novel, with literary inventiveness, anguish, humor, and ultimately hope, while Block’s novel is somber and claustrophobic.
The other patients at Mayflower are a mixture of the famous and the bizarre: as is pointed out several times, Mayflower is a reputable institution, counting the poet Robert Lowell and the mathematician John Nash as patients, but in this novel, the most important characters besides Frederick and Canon are Marion Foulds, a multiple-personality disorder sufferer, and Professor Schultz, a broken academic, who both commit suicide.
The life story of Katharine Merrill, Frederick’s wife, is a sad shadow to his own. She suffers his bad behavior for years, accepts him home from the clinic and attempts to carry on, ultimately to end her life in a manner oddly similar to her broken husband. The climactic moment in her life—through the eyes of her young grandson, at least—occurs when she burns the writings her husband composed while at Mayflower. It’s an act born of bitterness, resignation, and a desire to be loose from the past. Ultimately “The Storm at the Door” is itself a reckoning with the past, an attempt to make sense of familial mysteries—lyrical, touching and heartfelt.

Posted in books | Leave a comment

Yellowstone Snow, Hungry Wolves, & the Tumble Inn

So I’ve been traveling in Wyoming for 11 days, kayaking & hiking, not to mention buying stuffed animals for my daughter—dinosaur (diplodocus), river otter, deer, yellow horse, dinosaur (pterodactyl), and something I’m forgetting I’m sure. We camped in the Grand Tetons and soaked at Thermopolis Hot Springs, where families around the pool exchanged wildlife stories of visiting Yellowstone. One family told how they saw a wolf eat a baby elk, which of course freaked the kids out (they nodded solemnly as the story was told). We saw a grizzly, several golden eagles, elk, mule deer, buffalo, and the biggest porcupine in the west. Yellowstone had an astonishing amount of snow—three feet deep as far as the eye could see on the high plateau when you first drive into the park on the southern end, passing Lewis Lake and West Thumb. Here’s a nostalgic neon sign we passed, in the Abandoned America category:

Now I’m glad to be home in Colorado, where it’s cool and rainy today.

Posted in The West | Leave a comment

The Silence of the Swedish Lambs: “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo,” or Our Misbegottten Love of Serial Killers (Stories)

So a year ago I picked up the Stieg Larsson’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo novel in paperback just to see what all the fuss was about, and I couldn’t really get into it and become a fan, mainly because the style/story seemed pretty ordinary killer/suspense stuff, rather flatly written. (I know, I know: Everyone else loves it. Good for them.) But I’ve just watched the Swedish film version, and it’s one of those rare cases where the film works in ways the novel didn’t for me: For one thing, it portrays a gorgeous vision of the world, all snow and glossy urban scenes and forests, moody, well-dressed people, much mystery about everything. But I was struck at its similarities to The Silence of the Lambs (1991), all these years later. Lisbeth is the haunted, victimized Agent Starling, a great character to watch. The framed flowers are a natural-world metaphor that compares to the exotic moths in Silence. The serial killer confession (I won’t name names, for those who still haven’t seen it) out-creeps Hannibal Lecter’s articulate musings. But the film is hypnotic with images, painterly and beautiful, even when it’s showing horror.
As I’ve taught Gothic Lit for years, I’ve often been struck at how much the reading public loves serial killer stories. Why? We don’t want to be the victim, but we like to imagine others as the victim, as the killer. To revel in the dark side? For catharsis? A fascination with the gruesome? All of the above? Probably so. And many more oddities of human nature. Acting out murder fantasies via fiction. It’s probably healthier than tweeting pictures of your organs to anonymous strangers, esp if you’re a politician.  

Posted in books/film | Leave a comment

Dream Hooey: Inception Island, or a Contrarian’s View of “Inception” and “Shutter Island”

So none other than knockout writer Susan Orlean (whose book on Rin Tin Tin is coming out soon, I believe) turned me on to the world of streaming video last fall, telling me that she finds that much better than any satellite/cable TV in her home in upstate New York. Laggard that I am, I’ve just recently picked up my Apple TV. It’s so small and minimal it’s freaky—a little black box about the size of a deck of cards, a remote with essentially three buttons on it. But connected to Netflix streaming video, it’s kind of amazing. Gone are the days of same-old movies on DirecTV! Gone are the day so seeing He’s Just Not That Into You and Lady Gaga’s latest fashion show/concert listed in maddening, multiple timeslots! Variety is here!
So two of the movies I watched (which are not on DirecTV yet) both featured Leo DiCaprio, and I chose these two to catch up on what my students were talking about, generally expressing how much they loved them: Inception and Shutter Island. Inception is great eye candy, but it didn’t add up to much, and I lost interest in all the dream hooey as it went on and on. Shutter Island, on the other hand, had a healthy dose of dream hooey, or alternate reality, and I thought it really paid off. The final line DiCaprio says rings out as a real kicker, like the final line Charlize Theron utters in Monster.

Posted in Film | Leave a comment

Arizona Is Burning, and We're Breathing It

Smoke from the Bear Wallow Fire in Arizona—several hundred miles away but over 233,000 acres in size—is so thick here we can’t see the valley floor from our hillside home, just a mile or so away. We’re all coughing and throats are scratchy. I’m reading James Hansen’s Storms of My Grandchildren, about global warming, and it seems that it’s here. Meanwhile every Republican who ever said anything in support of mitigating climate change is having to backtrack and now deny it, just to court the Conservative-Stupid Vote, the Know Nothing Party rises again. Here’s the NY Times report about the Arizona fire this morning:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/08/us/08wildfires.html?_r=1&hp

Posted in books, Climate Change, The West | Leave a comment

The Summer of the Bears, Hungry & Marauding

So in my corner of Colorado there was a bit of snow drought (March was dry), which caused the bears to come out of hibernation early, before there was food for them. Now there are roving gangs of hungry bears marauding across the countryside. We’ve seen two in our yard, one a big glossy black bruin who ripped open a hole in our woodshed door to get at the garbage cans stored inside, and another roan-colored youngster who gallops across our yard regularly. We love our bears but we love our cat more, and were briefly in a panic as we thought one of them had eaten Iris, but thankfully she showed up after being missing for a day. Here’s the damage to the woodshed, which I’ll have to repair later this week. The hole doesn’t look that big, but the bear did, maybe 250 lbs or so:

Posted in The West | Leave a comment

HBO's Film of "Too Big to Fail" a Great Cast

So last year I was trying to read Andrew Ross Sorkin’s Too Big to Fail, which I admire much, although I did find it ‘too long to read,’ essentially because my schedule is too busy. It’s all about the financial meltdown in 2008, a behind-the-scenes look at the power brokers (and sleazeballs) in the major investment houses and financial regulatory agencies, such as Hank Paulson, Ben Bernanke, Warren Buffet, and Tim Geithner—at least those are the ‘good’ guys, though I think ‘slightly better’ might be more accurate term. A number of these figures come across as more interesting than you might think, and a number come across as smug capitalist pigs, too. The HBO film of the book recently premiered and is now in numerous timeslots, and it’s a much smaller time commitment to get the same story, though without a lot of the backstory that makes the book worthwhile (and too long). The actors in the film really carry the day: William Hurt, Ed Asner, Paul Giamatti, etc. It’s in the tradition of HBO’s good series of contemporary politico films, like the excellent Recount, about the 2004 election.

Posted in books/film, Politics | Leave a comment

S.C. Gwynne’s "Empire of the Summer Moon"—Great Comanche History

So if you’re interested in Native American history, S.C. Gwynne’s Empire of the Summer Moon (Scribner 2010) is a great read. Most of it concerns the Comanches, who essentially ruled and terrorized the Great Plains of Texas/Oklahoma areas during the 18th/19th centuries, which all essentially came to a close around 1874. It’s certainly a gruesome story, considering the attacks on white settlers that occurred during this period, and the Comanches dominance of other Plains tribes. But once it reaches the story of Quanah Parker, sometimes considered the last great chief of the Comanches, it provides a useful overview of Native American history at the end of the Indian Wars. There’s a triumvirate of excellent histories that give a good overview of the demise of Plains Indian culture: The Journals of Lewis & Clark, Evan S. Connell’s Son of the Morning Star (about Custer and the Battle of the Little Bighorn), and Gwyne’s Empire of the Summer Moon. One major contrast: On Lewis & Clark’s 1804-5 journey the only violence between L&S’s party and the Indians occurred very late in the trip, when some Blackfeet tried to steal some weapons, and one of the party killed an Indian. The violence then heats up as the Plains Indians realize what is happening, that they’re being driven off the land, and strike back. Ultimately it seems a clash of technology, probably inevitable, although Connell’s book makes the most persuasive argument for how it could have happened another way.

Posted in books, The West | Leave a comment

The End of the World, Yawn—Or a Stupidity Gauge

So last night I’m watching ABC News (which I do just to keep an eye on what idiocy is in the mainstream media—answer: plenty) and they actually interviewed some craggy old nutcase who is apparently the “prophet” behind today’s Rapture event, and I’m thinking, How stupid can we get? Pretty stupid, that’s for certain. It makes me think of the old drunk in the diner in Hitchcock’s The Birds, croaking, “It’s the end of the world!”
An even stronger gauge of stupidity, probably embraced by the same crowd, is the new book out about the Birther controversy. It’s embarrassing, is what it is. But at least Trump seems to be fading fast. And on the Republican side, that windbag Gingrich is actually in trouble for voicing some moderate opinions, good God.

Posted in Politics | Leave a comment