Classics Book Club of NY

Preface: What was it JFK said about choosing not because it is easy but because it is hard..And I do believe slight discomfort can enable positive growth. Yet ultimately I do not wish to entertain what sounds in review like extreme misogyny. And life is short and there are many books to be read. So I did some more vetting (something I should have done more of initially), and have decided instead to choose the book "Voss" by Patrick White (who sounds like a fellow "curmudgeon" Ken). The story seems to carry the adventure of Huck Finn, address themes of classic scope, yet a bit off the beaten path.

Good discussion about James tonight - not Henry, not William, not King, not Lebron, not Bob, not Eric, but Percival Everett's remake of Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn chosen by Bob. Robust discussion with Ken, Bob, Larry, Becky, Francine, Andy, Ellen (welcome!), Dennis, Ellen, Isa (welcome!), and Lynn. Could the books be distinguished in terms of empathy vs insight? Bob thought so and characterized James as "social realism" (or was it "magical socialism"?). Larry generally liked both books and was impressed with Huck Finn the novel's insight into a white perspective on slavery at the time. One could also say Twains insight in the perspective of an adolescent boy also added to the authenticity. Ellen felt James started off strong with message and humor, but the effect lost some plausibility as the book progressed. Lynn was not so impressed with leveraging of another work, but came away with strong sense of empathy regardless. Larry championed both books to a degree, and highlighted the themes of fatherhood in general and what fatherhood means in terms of Huck, Jim, Pap, and the ideals invoked in those relationships. Andy thought James was well written and commented on the fraught subjects of slavery and racism in James and other literature including Uncle Tom's cabin, and the story of Hagar. Ken pointed to the ubiquity of slavery in human history, and despite this weighty subject questions whether the books were "classics" in a transcendent Tolstoy sense. Isa questioned the inherent negativity of blackness, and genuity implied when calling people equals in the face of an opposite reality. Francine like the cadence of Huck Finn, and was struck by the codes of conduct as expressed in James. Becky leaned in on the significance of the pen in James, as both the instigator of the lynching, and the "sword" through which James carved his identity. Dennis gave a stylistic nod "like the twists and turns of the mighty Mississippi", and mentioned his experience with co workers and their challenge of straddling multiple worlds. I for one thought of James as an exercise of dignification. Shameless plug here, I was part of a project, where the artist Titus Kaphar (present day) re-imagined a group portrait of Elihu Yale (early 1700s) from the perspective of a slave in the corner of the original portrait. For more https://britishart.yale.edu/new-light-group-portrait-elihu-yale-his-family-and-enslaved-child. Whether it's Twain or Everett, or Verelst or Kaphar, what do you think, more reinterpretation or knockoff? Classic or flash in the pan?

Perhaps evocative of the book, we had a pleasant discussion despite the vagaries of zoom. A bit of polarity, Andy felt the writing was amazingly insightful, Ken defined it as NOT classic, but the general consensus was it was a "pleasant", "sweet", "easy" read much inline with the fairy tale genre. Given the time in life of the main characters the book could understandably be found in the young adult section, with a parablic (is that a word?) intent, a moral, almost Christian message of anti discrimination, transformation and growth. The life of George Sand herself (nee Dupin) may actually eclipse the novel in terms of interest, her untraditional upbringing and affairs with several suitors including the composer Chopin. The book is situated in a niche in history, close to the revolutions of 1848, and the counter-revolution pastoral movement in arts and literature that one could argue a result of that era's politics. There was a spiritual essence, from the pre-modern folk medicine, the will o wisps appearances and forebodings of the landscape, and even the "spell" Fadette had over Landry and the towns people. With Lynn in this group I ponder what the casting would be for the characters - maybe a late 1990's Luke and Owen Wilson with Christina Ricci? (Or am I being too typical?) Anyway I found the book a fresh choice, thanks Louise for choosing.

Nice to meet with some tolerable human beings tonight. (I say after several of us noted how difficult it was to identify with the characters in Point Ccunterpoint). To be fair while Sprandrell can clearly be cast as a villain, there was something redeemable in Rampion, just something about Illidge's and his circumstances, and Wesley was, well a character. But if the people weren't so likable, the writing was expert and the themes powerful. Perhaps there was a lack of religion, and a propensity for false politics? I feel in many ways the novel was a search for higher meaning, and Huxley hoped to find it the structure and tapestry crafted from an array of persona, but ultimately could not reach a happy conclusion in terms of plot or humanity. The Beethoven was beautiful, but the powers that be could not prevent the ultimate tragedy.

I really appreciate the robust discussion tonight of Francine's choice, All the Pretty Horses. My impression after reading it was simply the beauty of description. I didn't so much find a message or theme to the story but rather felt immersed in beautiful chronicle of experience. So much so I started reading the second book in the trilogy, the Crossing. In both these books was an intangible spirituality Lynn noted that threaded the lives of the characters and their essential equine partners, a dreamlike essence that evokes that early adult understanding of life as something to be discovered. That contrasted with our last book in the First Circle where life became a certain form of resignation. All the Pretty Horses was all the more powerful for weaving love, law, violence, death and wisdom through an endurance of action. Larry mentioned a timelessness to the story and Ken touched upon an authenticity that Andy framed as remarkable of the borderline culture. Bob made a point of how integral to the story the counterpoint (hint, Chekhov's gun) of the grandmother's experience was to Grady's youthful vigor. Both Becky and Susan remarked upon the weaving of Spanish with English, and the fluency of the cultural confluence expressed therein. Francine described the book as beautiful yet grim, and Patricia described the greatness of the story on a spiritual and moral level rendered beautifully by the eponymous lullaby of the pretty horses. It is hard to do justice to this book in summary form, I must fallback myself with an excerpt I just read from Cormac himself in the Crossing:

From Bob: Here is my reflection rather than a strict summary of our discussion of Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby" and Hersey's "A Bell for Adano". Both books are short reads -- and Larry who made these selections -- said that the second book was a discretionary read.

I feel kind of privileged to live in place and time where I can attend a meeting and write with no fear of retribution (unless one of you is a stoolie?). So I feel free to implicate in this discussion Ken, Bob, Andy, Patricia, Dennis, Ellen, Lynn, Becky and Larry. We talked of "In the First Circle" by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn - its readability, its themes, its ties to history and real people, and its insight into humanity. It seems Solzhenitsyn attempted to capture the essence and psychology of a life under a regime where quality was sacrified, but for what? Control? The book gave a robust look through a plethora of characters, of how exactly different people fared. There was a 70s movie "Soylent Green" with the memorable ending where they realize they are eating people "Soylent Green is people!". The ending of "In the First Circle" could be seen as analogous - the description of the outward appearance of the prison bus carrying Volodin to his prescribed fate in a chapter titled "Meat":

I Know Why The Caged Bird sings. Wait do I? Do you? Tonight Ken, Larry, Becky, Dennis, Patricia, Francine, Susan, Bob, Ellen, and myself discussed via zoom Maya Angelou's autobiography? Or is It a memoir? Or is it a historical autobiographical fiction? Does the classification matter? I guess the exercise is to get at the truth and one question is how truthful was it? In psychological terms, when trying to remember one must try to augment one's limited factual recall with what was fitting, or one can resort to taking liberties. Does taking liberties take away from the power of this particular novel? How about general? What makes for good literature? Something that sheds light on the human condition? Something that moves the soul? A facility of language? This may go against Francine Prose's sensibilities but I believe Angelou's book, goes a good way towards all three.

Another book club meeting, we must be solidly past 100 at this time, good hearing from all those that could attend, Ken, Francine, Susan, Larry, Becky, Bob, Ellen, Dennis and myself. Today's discussion Kenilworth by Sir Walter Scott. It seems in general that most of read out of diligence, it was challenging dated language, like Shakespeare, but to leave it at that of course would be unfair.. Was is historically accurate? Well Scott did his research, if not adding poetic license and straying from pure fact. Queen Elizabeth was quite the queen and decidedly at the top of the British Monarch list. Interesting times to read this royal story given the passing of Queen Elizabeth II. As we reflect back it's interesting to hear a story from 1820 about a period around 1575, in 2022. Was the popularity of Kenilworth originally due to a zeitgeist tracing from the 16th to 19th to 21st century? Intriguing to see the power lines from the queen, to the Earls, to the squires, and how little power the revolving center of the plot, Amy could gather for herself. There were general historical themes that could have propelled the story, such as the catholic/protestant conflict, things looked to when analyzing history, but what drove the plot was really conflict of character, personal ambition, pageantry, ego, and love. I guess all in all a good recipe for a classic novel. Becky apologized for choosing this, no need to, a worthy choice.

Good to get together in zoom with the group, usual introductions - Ken, Andy, Francine, Patricia, Bob, Larry, Becky, Ellen, and myself. Our book's chooser Dennis was off apparently on an adventure in the great north, but like Molly with the Virginian he left us a book that kept us well occupied. It seems there was consensus in interpretation, a genre trendsetter, well written, decent romance, appealing story, tapping into the individualistic spirit that in many ways defined the nation. To counter its perhaps biggest shortcoming, a lack of serious depth, I will escape to quote a somewhat polemic nestled into the story with surprising pith - a conversation with Molly, the Virginian, and the Judge:

Nice that much of the group could get together tonight to discuss Daniel Deronda: Patricia, Ken, Dennis, Larry, Becky, Lynn, Andy, Ellen, Susan, Louise, Bob, and myself. Apparently this is the 2rd time the club has read George Eliot, having read Mill on the Floss as book #2 of over 120(?), and with several of us with personal experience of Middlemarch, Silas Marner, Adam Bede. This was her last novel, and ambitious in taking on this story Gwendolen and Daniel. She objectively narrates, letting a deep analysis of character and beauty of phrase drive the novel. The most mundane of occurrences seemed fascinating as the winds of life swarmed around Gwendolen, a natural standout struggling with circumstances and her own character, and Daniel, of the highest ethical fiber, engulfed as self-revelation, heroics, and religion in lockstep. If Dickens could write A Tale of Two Cities, Eliot has written A Tale of Two People. How did she arrive at this? Perhaps from the longstanding relationship with Emanuel Deutsch, learning Hebrew along with an extensive reading list. How was this received? According to an article (1):

The Purple Land by William Henry Hudson chosen by Andy

Good discussion tonight about Hemingway and The Sun Also Rises. There were 9 of us Becky, Larry, Ken, Patricia, Francine, Andy, Susan, Ellen, and myself. Generally liked, but of mixed opinion. Weighty topics of gender, masculinity, sex, antisemitism, all framed by a style uniquely Hemingway, superficial yet bold. The story existed in the shadow of WWI, a powerful force contributing to a lifestyle that to quote Stein was "lost", leaving one to pick up pieces that were not quite there sexual and otherwise. There was little redemption for anyone other than a dreamy transience of existence, encapsulated by the final quote "Isn't it pretty to think so". The bullfighting was a symbol of purity and sense of purpose that Jake, Brett and crew could not find in their own lives.

Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie chosen by Patricia

Trying to masterfully account for the discussion of David Copperfield is a difficult act to follow. His genius, to take a bildungsroman and weave a story of such memorable characterization is extraordinary. Micawbers, Heep, Murdstone, Trotwood, the list goes on; these fictional characters cannot help but remain uniquely emblazed in the memory of the reader through Dicken's description. Our cast of characters tonight, Louise, Bob (chooser), Ken ,Francine, Susan, Patricia, Larry, Becky, Ellen, Andy, all found much to point out. There was a maturation evoked through David's life from naivety through experience, to fulfillement; there was a sense of conquering life's primary obstacles from love to death. The lives of others, from Steerforth, to Dora, to Traddles, to Heep, to Ham, and others also all played out as if fate were a guide. Not much was accident, including their names. Points were raised regarding other of Dickens books, Great Expectations, The Pickwick Papers, Bleak House, Nicholas Nickeby and others. The was humor and respect to how Dicken's presented the figures of the novel, painted through the lenses of love, duty, and career aspirations. There was melodrama, but it was not saccharine. There was a sense of penitence and obsession, and at time weakness, but when overdone only to teach a lesson. Dickens wasn't a perfect human being, but he was undeniably a human being with much of humanity's shared faults and virtues.

Despite being in different head spaces concerning the 5 books and television series in play for this discussion of My "Brilliant Friend", we managed to make good work of covering much of the character and subject matter. Ken, Bob, Francine, Andy, Larry, Becky, Louise, Susan, Ellen, Claudia, and Lynn made up the group tonight. I missed a good part of the meeting due to technical difficulties (perhaps a bandwidth issue chez Jacques). I read the first book and almost finished the second, and left with the overall impression that this was a story of insecurity, strained relationships, incomplete aspirations, all in service of the muse of friendship. Who was the "Brilliant Friend"? It seemed much was reciprocal. Who embodied the "Story of a New Name"? The relationships were quite entangled. The most essential character was Lila, but story was much richer in terms of Lena's self-realization and the depth of all the social scenes and characters. The story was an Italian one, but lay bare the complexity of that nationality - regionally, hierarchically, and dialectally. It was interesting to hear Claudia's perspective. If there was any grounding within the story it was also pulled asunder by sex and lies. Religion was largely absent, yet there were socio-political forces throughout the arc of the plot. This a was a great choice Louise, there was a lot to consider.

A very lively discussion tonight, Ken, Becky Larry, Patricia, Dennis, Andy, Ellen, Bob, Lynn ,Louise, myself. Long day, my brains a little shot, and it would take a long time to sufficiently summarize everything discussed, but the overall review by everyone was positive. I would be remiss if I didn't mention some of the things discussed, some things for the word cloud:

Got a square 9 of us (actually 10) on Zoom tonight Larry/Becky, Francine, Louise, Ellen, Dennis, Andy, Bob Ken Eric. I'm accustomed to making the 2 hour commute to our meetings, so having the only travel being changing windows on the computer is quite convenient. Tonight we dissussed Catch 22, and a lot of points were made across the gamut. War is a difficult subject and broaching it the way Heller did is hard to accomplish without some contention. The timing of the book it interesting both in terms of acceptability, after the wounds of WWII and Korea, and shortly after as it was thrust to spotlight during the Vietnam era. I for one thought the story was basically ridiculous, but it seems some of us genuinely laughed at some points of the story with it's odd timeline and elliptical phrasing. It seems the naming of the characters was not insignificant and alluded to greater themes and stereotypes. Even the 22 of catch 22 proved to face some editorial scrutiny through the versions and it was mentioned how particularly American it was. We discussed the experience of war, the actual act itself and times of leisure which all in all is quite an interesting contradiction, including even the act of dodging it. But the book was largely that of a man world, perhaps one of Heller's real time and space. Thank you Larry for this excellent choice.

Rainy February night, outskirts of Times Square, west of the PA terminal, crowded confines of Farida restaurant, Slavic murals on the wall, seven people situated at a six person table.

Great discussion tonight at Fraunces Tavern, but first I must address the biggest problem really facing the nation: that the 1 percenters claim an inordinate, 39% of this country's wealth./p>Ok, just (half) kidding, getting the "Bern" here, I just like his stock intro to almost every argument. But more to the immediate task, six of us (Susan, Ken, Bob, Larry, Ellen, and myself) did manage our way south of Wall Street tonight to talk Burr. Vidal's book is a captivating one, featuring a candid human account of our founding fathers, Burr, and their contemporaries through Schuyler's conduit. The medium is at once historical, journalistic, biographical, and fictional, a combination proven controversial. We discussed it's historical and modern significance - the timelessness of human character and the social impact nested in a certain time and place, and how a confluence of location, luck, will, foresight, and intrigue framed our nation in all its faults and glory. This was a great selection, thanks Susan for choosing.

Back in the Stan Schneider era (I think this book club has been around long enough to have eras), a common point of contention was "Is this a classic?". Can anyone deny that "A Tale of Two Cities" is one? So much so one could even argue it is more conventional than classic, relying on biblical forms (as I learned in high school), common techniques such as deux ex machine (as Ken mentioned), and a historic storyline based on Watts Phillips's "The Dead Heart" (I looked that up). And of course requisite of classics, a sentence structure that is sometimes overly formal and verbiose leaving the reader engaged if not confused. It was interesting to juxtapose with Dickens's other works including Great Expectations and their differing elements of history, romance, fate and fortune. Ellen in absentia even claimed this to be the saddest thing she's read since Black Beauty. It is also fair to say Dickens has the great ability of weaving a plot line that might not have Dostoevsky deep introspection, but a sense that makes one really care for the characters.

When I was about 6 years old I engaged what could be called a "quixotic" quest. My best friend Tim and I were having a sleepover and playing with an erector set. Somehow we got it into our minds to make weapons. We made a great array of chinese stars, numchucks, and daggers out of the erector set pieces. We then planned to sneak out of the house at midnight and go to the park and fight all the "bad" people - because of course everybody knows bad people just hung out at parks in Washington DC late at night waiting to fight. Unfortunately there was no climactic ending; we just ended up falling asleep well before midnight.

Good meeting last night, to discuss The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, so many interesting points. Unfortunately my laptop screen died, and I'm at work now so must be brief.

Meet up in Central Park

Was it the deli food, the crisp fall weather, or the simple allure of Lore, I don't know, but 13 strong made it out tonight to Ben's Kosher Deli to discuss 'Other People Houses' - Alice, Susan, Patricia, Leslie, Andy, Carey, Francine, Dennis, Larry, Becky, Lynn, Ken, and myself. Speaking for myself, I thoroughly liked the book, the writing was solid, the characters well developed, the plot interesting and well paced, and the moral remarkable. Most of all was the storytelling, the first person narrative of this young girl's forced transient life reflected with brilliance, simplicity and character. Like Anne of Green Gables, reading Other's People Houses was a sort of falling for this sassy precocious young woman. But how to conclude? Did the story extend too long? Should it have been scoped within the confines of the war or her early coming of age? Regardless, the book's closing self-summarizes better than anything I could posit, "but I, walk gingerly and in astonishment upon this island of my comforts, knowing that it is surrounded on all sides by calamity." If there can be love in the time of cholera there certainly can be the maturation in the time of fascism.

Hi book club, reporting on our latest meeting tonight at Nix in the Village to discuss Ursula LaGuin's The Dispossessed. There were eight of us - Bob, Lynn, Ken, Andy, Larry, Becky, Valerie, and myself. I chose the book, but found it hard to make much of, perhaps striking on the "ambiguous" in its billing as an "ambiguous utopia". It appeared that both Andy and I came up with it as a "political-science fiction" as much as a traditional "science fiction". Yes there was this ansible device, this faster than light communication, yes there was illusions to unified theory, but thematically the plot was largely an exploration of society from the social-political tension of capitalism and syndicalism represented by the coupled planets (or moons depending on your perspective) and their social distance. Some of the science had a "past-future" dated feel like watching the Jetsons or footage of the 1964 World's fair, but the political science I thought echoed a real life history of colonialism and revolution in an inventive way. An open question I believe Ken alluded to - as humans are laws a necessity not so much in what the laws are but just in that there is some order put in place?

Missed a lot of you, but six of us, Carey, Dennis, Larry, Ken, Susan, and myself managed to meet this evening at Awash Ethiopian Restaurant to discuss Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. The book was remarkable in the sense that embodied a story of tribal Nigeria written by a Nigerian in English attempting to capture the confluence resulting from colonists encroaching on an indigenous people. For better or worse the voice was straightforward and objective almost to a fault as the character's motivations were told but left largely unexplained. Discussed was the concept of universal ethics and whether right and wrong is relative or absolute. Can we assume western democracy as a gold standard in political organization? And at what point is it fair to draw a line and make a stand? One sociological fact that always stuck with me is that civil rights abuses are most prevalent in cultures based on a commodity economy, perhaps due to its devaluing of human worth. And it seemed for the most part the book lacked something of a human touch - what truly drove the characters beyond simple acceptance of tradition? Perhaps status and pride? But it's hard to tell sometimes beyond actions alone. Thanks Carey for this selection, especially in these "Wakanda forever" times.

Good discussion tonight. Those who made it in this tail of the cold: Bob, Carey, Becky, Larry, Susan, Patricia, Ken, Lynn, and myself. Opinions were mixed. I really enjoyed the read of the book (will always remember the "crapulent major", (although probably less so than his assassin)) and thought the end was quite powerful in describing a person who's identity is so divided the only authentic confession could be towards "nothing". But it seemed others were less impressed stylistically and with the conclusion. I was struck with a thematic sensibility much akin to other books we've read - the self-flagellation ending of Brave New World, the full-on isolation of Invisible Man, and the social penetration of Heart of Darkness. Discussed was how much this was a book of politics vs a book of philosophy and identity. But taken in total it kind of asks the ultimate question - what are we living for? Idealism? Friendship? Money? Revolution? Loyalty? Love? As someone of mixed race and diverse upbringing, after reading this book I feel fortunate that these differences lead to not much more than interesting discussion and I don't find myself in a mortal combat between the world's I represent.

As soon as I entered GMT I knew something was afoot as the clock struck half past the 25th hour to the radio broadcast a martial ban on all firearms. Even in the early October Indian summer it appeared the elms and maples were beginning to bud fresh green in defiance of the typical fall color. The walk to the restaurant was simpler than I remember, the crooked streets of the Village in a perfect grid that would make Pythagorus proud. A drunken man vomited in the alley and a pack of dogs that must have been of a fluorescent retriever breed licked the pavement clean. The fountains of Washington Square ran dry as the water was diverted to a wildfire at the farmer's market. The book club I was expecting to see greeted me briefly before engaging in a round of bets on what appeared to be an underground cockfight. The sky was purple.

What value is the truth in times like these? It seems we did not get a dedicated chance to discuss in depth Bob's (Dad's) selections of 1984 and Brave New World, perhaps the Trump administration has run the dystopian topic dry. But I encourage further online discussion. Nonetheless it was good to chat and see all those who could come: Susan, Ken, Val, Bob, Andy, Larry, Becky, Lynn, and Francine.

Couldn't have asked for a better room to discuss de Maistre's own room. Situated at a round table of eight in the Belle Epoque styling of Chez Josephine, Becky, Larry, Bob, Dennis, Ken, Ellen, Patricia, and I engaged in an interesting discussion of genius, travel, and nationalism found somehow from the world Xavier describes in this humorous story of isolation welding both travelogue and introspection. People's opinion of the book was mixed, but this "minor" classic apparently has been quite influential. I was struck by two things primarily, how stylistically close it was to Tristram Shandy (apparently intentional), and the pre-Freudian cognitive dissonance between the "soul" and the "beast" (a lot of time could be spent on the couch discussing that dichotomy). Otherwise was it simply an exercise to simply quell the boredom of house arrest? In any case I think this book has a special place in prison libraries everywhere (spoken facetiously). Thank you for this interesting choice Ellen.

Andy, Larry, Bob, Louise, Ellen, Becky, Carey, Patricia, Lynn, Ken, and I, spent an April March Madness Monday at Freud's (where the spatzle and strudel were especially good) to discuss Bronx native, and Fordham educated Don Delillo's sensation White Noise, a book that while conceived in the 80's seems of increased relevance in these times of uncertain authority. How is it that a book whose lead character is a professor of Hitler, where the main circumstances surround an Airborne Toxic Event, and where the conclusion is a murder gone good can seem so normal? In psychology there is a phenomenon called the "Fundamental Attribution Error" recognizing the human condition is less the result of character and more a result of situation - and what a situation DeLillo presents. But at the same time the novel is in a large part a consequence of human behavior extended to its worst, a backsplash of consumerism, envy, and violence. What does it say that academia can be presented as a populist folly, while the children in the story come off as the most well off and un-adjusted? And somehow in this fatal pharmacological filler the book maintains a biting sense of humor.

Evidently a majority of us were not able to attend tonight's meeting. But the electorate few, if you will, that were able to make it (Larry, Carey, Louise, Patricia, Ken and myself) enjoyed a pleasant night with our gracious host/selector Lynn discussing the Yacoubian Building. Maybe not a "classic" by all accounts, but it was agreed the book was well written, the characters well developed, the description quite visceral, and the storyline well integrated. Central to the plot was the effect of government, religion, and ideology mixed with everyday interaction involving this motley crew of building occupants. I would argue none of the characters were heroic, and there was no overarching message to the book in a singular sense, but it's strength was to offer a realist perspective and an authentic depiction of life as it were. Despite the mixed fates of the protagonists, there was, as Carey concluded, a positivity in the sense that everyone went on with their lives in a manner that could not be possible without an inherent hope.

From Larry:

Eight of us (Alice, Becky, Ellen, Francine, Ken, Denny, Andy and Larry) met at Wilfie and Nell to discuss Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. Enthusiasm for the book was mixed. At one end was the feeling that it lacked a plot and interesting characters and on the other was the idea that the Heart of Darkness exists in each of us. There was talk of the White Man's burden - the obligation for white European civilization to bring modernity and a civilized life to the inferior races of the south. There was mention of the arrogance of imposing our 21st century mores on a book written in an entirely different time. The similarity to Moby Dick . Little light was shed on Heart of Darkness and so to quote Kurtz: "The horror. The horror."

From Ken:

Some of the other more strongly expressed interpretations included: Alice - there was no reasonable motivation expressed for Marlow's abrupt attitudinal change towards Kurtz; the book was too abstract; there was no substantive philosophical points offered;

Becky - Marlow's deception towards the Intended at the end of the book was more an act of kindness than an expression of any part of a Heart of Darkness.

From Eric:

I wish I was able to make it down to the meeting, it sounds like there was a very dynamic discussion. I read the book (or what seemed like a very short story after War and Peace). Overall I had mixed feelings. I found most of it directionless description, although as the story went on it did find its way to a climax represented by the unveiling of the enigmatic Kurtz who in his own right represented much more - colonialism, capitalism, and European hegemony. Like Melville and the whale, Conrad seized upon the mystery of the Dark Continent and brought it to light in a singular mission in an attempt to find the ghost in the machine. Like Genesis, there was a strong theme of forbidden knowledge, the notion that digging into dirt you just get dirty. In any case I will have to watch Apocalypse Now again. Looking forward to the next book.

10 of us, Francine, Dennis, Becky, Larry, Alice, Andy, Ken, Lynn, and Louise and I met at Lynn's house this evening to discuss War and Peace (or what I'd to call "How I learned to love the Russian Dream"). My knee jerk reaction is the say the book is an overrated, overlong cobbling of a formulaic plot veiled in half-baked political philosophy. But that is primarily only because it is fun to say that. To be fair it is a story of ambitious scope, aiming to weave a meticulous military history with probing social context that pushes the envelope of the novel format. Not quite Dostoyevsty (according to Dostoyevsky), it lacks the deep psychological insight in favor of courser descriptive brushstrokes. The general consensus seemed to acknowledge the book's importance short of calling it a favorite. It was noted that translation may also significantly affect its interpretation. Alice was impressed with Tolstoy at his best, Dennis vouched for it's interpretation historically, and Ken noted Tolstoy's pathology in terms of family affairs and societal position, just to mention a few of the reactions shared. I thank Ken for choosing a book that I may otherwise not have the ambition to read myself.

Ten of us made it out on this frigid night to the Chinese favorite Legend to discuss Becky's choice, The Good Earth by Pearl Buck: Dennis, Susan, Larry, Becky, Alice, Francine, Andy, Ken, Lynn and myself. By starting these minutes in such standard form I worry that I'm catering to the aesthetic form of conventional style and should perhaps be more subversive. Andy made an interesting point earlier today that notions of "whiteness" are a mark of class more than race in China (sunburnt farmers vs pale intellectual), but perhaps this distinction is somehow at the root of classic black/white racism? More broadly though, The Good Earth is a book very much rooted largely in ethics, giving a factual account of the arc of Wang Lung's life as anchored in his universally acceptable belief in the power of the land, to the point that perhaps his moral compass was attached to that, and without it, his children in some aspects ran astray. At the meeting plotlessness and formularity was raised, but I think what brought this book most to life was that the lusts for sex, money, blood, and power were expressed both in a candid and empirical way. Thanks Becky for this choice.

At risk of omitting someone I will state Ellen, Patricia, Carey, Alice, Lynn, Andy, Larry, Becky, Susan, Dennis, Ken and I met last night 48 floors up the Empire State Building - a long way from Maycomb. Whatever you think of the quality of the selected novels I at least felt they offered a touchstone into our own personal relationships with family, child relationships, memory of hometown, and how they can change as we grow wise to the world. While Mario was absent he is certainly not forgotten and it was nice for Susan to attend.

Seven of us, Alice, Larry, Becky, Ellen, Andy, Ken and I got Shandied (does that make any sense at all?) this evening discussing Laurence Sterne's seminal work. The general consensus seemed that the book was enjoyed on some level at some time by most of us. We all seemed to appreciate the originality in its humor and digressions, combining a characteristic wit of both imitation and genius transcending established novel form. The topic of humor was addressed, its essence, the degree to which it is an respected form of expression, and how eras and cultures are unique in this regard (to wit Ken's experiences at arrow point with native New Guineans).

In memory of Mario Ligorio

Ivanhoe

There are some books, Hemingway's for example, that assault the reader with epic human experience, in contrast there is The Sound and the Fury - some of which is literally a tale told by an idiot. Somewhere in between lies Le Grande Meaulnes, a story that both contains youthful fantasy and confrontation of the basic human hardships of love and death. Nine of us tonight met to share our experience with this experience at the thankfully quiet and contained La Lunchonette - Yolan, Andy, Dennis, Becky, Larry, Ken, Alice, Patricia, and myself. Of course novels can have an effect on us, but the reverse is also true that our lives bring something to the novel. Fournier's story, a French student staple is poised to offer that contrast, being something often read in youth to be discovered again later. No doubt the prose was elegantly descriptive if not the arc of the story seamless and balanced. But it also could be said the storyline, which had the potential to be ripe with detailed psychological and sexual drama rarely offered that depth and nuance. But nonetheless the book proved to be an important work that ushered in a style of storytelling evident in other classics such as The Great Gatsby and The Catcher in the Rye. Thanks Andy for the selection.

Nothing quite like the bright, gaudy florescent lights of the late MetroNorth train when ruminating over a book club meeting to feel both exhausted and wired in one surreal haze. Seven of us, Patricia, Andy, Bob, Alice, Larry, Ken, and myself were able to make it to Ilili, a fashionable, upbeat, maybe a little too loud venue to discuss seven books from the old and new testament (Genesis, Ecclesiaties, Job, Song of Songs, Mark, Romans, and Revelations). "Ilili" as our Bulgarian waiter described to us means "tell me" in Lebanese. I like to imagine Jesus using that exact phrase in his conversation with his "godfather". In any case it is amazing to me how a book like the bible, which one could say is really a set of poorly sourced documents somehow has become the bedrock of so many people's beliefs and lives. But as far as our conversation went, the views were fairly objective. Our table was a divided one, 4 Catholics and 3 Jews of various levels of practiction. We touched on most of the core issues such as faith, tradition, historical validity, and interpretations running the spectrum from "word of god" to interpretive parable. For me at least, the dual realities of fearing god and having faith in god - a beacon of light out of the dark inclinations of daily life, is powerful one that has served generations of people from what could otherwise be despair.

Last night nine of us, Andy, Randy, Ken, Larry, Alice, Patricia, Ellen, Lynn, and I met within the appreciatively listenable confines of the modern/southern Sarabeth restaurant to discuss Patricia's choice "The Known World" the Pulitzer Prize winning novel by Edward Jones. The title is perhaps evocative of the possibility that perspective may have offered an escape from the social tolerance of such a reviling institution. Or perhaps it alludes to the irony that even the reality of black on black human ownership did not even temper its existence. It seemed the general consensus of the group was positive - at worst it was a gimmick with an overly violent plot twist that left many characters unresolved. At best it was a well written fictional historic narrative weaving the lives of its many protagonists into a story of compelling matter of fact description.

From Ken:

Alice, Ellen, Larry, Lynn, Patricia, Randy and I met to discuss Randy's choice, Othello, at The Shakespeare, an eponymous pub with noise levels that, though somewhat uncomfortable, did not inhibit a single discussion involving all, sitting at an L –shaped table.

Some topics discussed, generally without discernable resolution, included the importance of the black Moor to the drama; whether the play is a tragedy; the heroic quality of Othello, the man, as someone to identify with at the beginning or the end; the extent each person had love for his or her pairing; the important role of sex (ah, yes!); whether Emilia's role with the handkerchief destroys her moral beauty and dignity; potential examples of other literary masterpieces with an unalloyed, incarnate evil character to match Iago; Iago's weaknesses; what, if anything, is known about William Shakespeare or his physical appearance, etc.

In memory of Stan Schneider

From Ken:

I must try in this summary, like Sisyphus, to second-seat Eric who was not able to attend the meeting yesterday. Carey, Alice, Lynn, Andy, Larry and I joined at a quiet Jackson Diner in a single animated discussion throughout of "A Passage to India,' E.M. Forster, Indian and British cultures, and diverse other subjects. All quite liked the book. Some themes of discussion: whether the characterization presented in this book was inferior to Forster's earlier book we read, "Howard's End"; that Forster may have had nothing positive to say about either culture or any person; the alleged profound philosophical and sociological benefits of treating as sacred, the cow; the extent that British colonization may have been, from its beginning, largely intended to help itself more than India; the stench, harassment of women and demeaning treatment of life exhibited by modern-day India; the mysterious symbolism of echos; the complicated treatment of Mrs. Moore; how this book compared to our last book touching on colonization, "A Bend in the River," etc.

Nine of us met last night on this humid 9/11 at Ponty Bistro to discuss Bob's (aka my Dad's) choice a Bend in the River. Seems opinions were the most mixed of any book I can remember us reading, from Patricia who vowed never to read Naipul again, to Ken who thought the book lacked cohesion and plot development to myself Andy and others who thought it was a good read touching on important subjects. Personally I thought of Bend in the River as a coming of age story about a person coming to the realization that his colonial world wasn't made for him but to exploit him. It was interesting how he told this, contrasting the well defined time and space of London with the abstract river locale somewhere in Africa (speculation about the Congo region?). The forces at play in the book were largely negative, but I think that is the point - that to Salim, the positive is simply an illusionary veil of oppression. I was somewhat shocked to learn of how reviled Naipul is considered as a person to many, and it seems that his antipathy to women and sentimentality is rooted in how useless they seem to him in the struggles he attempts to undertake. But perhaps what I'll remember best about this book is the ending description - a send off into the thousands of white lights signifying hope, death and the inevitable entropy of the infinite.

Last night nine of us met at Tir Na Nog to discuss Ellen's choice of Elizabeth Bowen's Death of the Heart. Must say the meeting had a remarkable middle school vibe, felt like I was sitting at the boy's end of the table barely catching the girl's chatter at the other side of the table as I remember it from so many years ago. But in focusing on the people in the book, I think what was most striking was how the characters hung together with ambivalance, empty affections, and selfish intentions. These characters were in such need of authentic connection that the diary of Portia became the foundation for their affairs. Where meaning and gospel was needed, all that existed was the intrigue of a naive teenager, a manifestation of their unfulfilled lives.

Last night on the train ride home I wrote out some notes of what to email this group about regarding our meeting. One of the first things I thought worth mentioning was the issue of race and that it never came up as far as I remember in our discussion (are we a post racial group?). In seeing Andy's post this morning I see he too had a similar impression. But the most inescapable theme in this novel is Texas, the name of the book refers to it and the dialogue peppered with character's allusions to this identity. I wonder if race and Texas are two sides to the same coin, that is thinking of one's self as part of a group bigger than ones's self for what it's worth whether positive or negative. I thought the ending was powerful in that in a sense it kind of transcends race and shows a family trying to stick together.

In anycase it was nice to meet last night. We had a small corner round table where the 7 of us Andy,Ellen,Francine,Ken, Alice,Lynn, and myself could actually hear ourselves fairly well. I thought the food was pretty good too.

from Ken:

Eric and I saw the musical version of "Giant" this weekend at the Joseph Papp Public Theater, the day before it closed, after a successful run. It gives me an added incentive to read the book. I don't yet know, of course, to what extent the musical followed the book, but I assume there are major divergences made necessary by the different medium.

On the downside, the sexual reprobate/oil mogul, Jett Rink, was somewhat monochromatic. His presence and character didn't flow in ways that I hope it does in the book. He never consummates a sexual relationship; he just shows he's always willing. The musical's plot and ideas were not well concluded or put together, I thought – the ending is unfulfilling by my lights. Again, the book may avoid that problem, we'll see. I don't yet see why the book was named, "Giant."

Finally, the musical caused me to think too often that the focus on the traditional, all-important, over-reaching, unchanging value of land in Texas was in some respects a re-worked version of Tara, in the State of Georgia, in Gone with the Wind.

The upside mostly had to do with the non-literary interest: the performers were fine; the music pleasant, though not grand. The plot hinted at potential intellectual heft, even if it never reached that level. Still, it was an enjoyable three hours of musical theater. I look forward to more hours spent in reading the novel.