September song

And so ends my first week of grad school. I have a little better understanding of what my work load will be, and I think I can handle it. Of course I’m only taking three credits this semester. The plan is to take six per semester starting next spring.

And there are the imponderables. Will my professors hate me because I’m a conservative? Will my fellow students hate me for the same reason? Would I do better to sound off on my opinions, or try to keep my head down? Will I live long enough to finish this thing?

Ah well. If you want to give me moral support, and are in the area, I’ll be with the Vikings at the Nordic Music Festival in Chanhassen, MN tomorrow. The weather is supposed to be hot.

Henry Wood: Time and Again, by Brian Meeks


I reviewed Brian Meeks’ first Henry Wood novel, Henry Wood Detective Agency, not long ago, telling you that I enjoyed it very much in spite of some stylistic flaws. Henry Wood: Time and Again affected me the same way. I liked it a lot, and I suspect you will too.
Henry Wood, New York private eye in 1955, is a quiet man who occasionally gets gifts from the future, deposited inexplicably in a closet in his basement. When he gets word that his former partner and mentor, Mickey Moore, has been murdered, he sets about going through his friend’s notes in search of clues leading to a motive. Meanwhile, a beautiful woman from his past has come back into his life. She involves him in a quest for a mysterious, ancient device by means of which, the legend goes, one may speak to God.
There’s more than a hint of The Maltese Falcon in Henry Wood: Time and Again, but it’s a very different world. I tried to express, in my last review, the remarkably quiet and peaceful atmosphere that pervades these books. Even when the tension rises, there’s serenity here. I can’t explain it. Even occasional infelicities, like not knowing the difference between “part” and “depart,” don’t shake it for me. Meeks continues his odd habit, in dialogue, of avoiding contractions. I didn’t care. I also noticed that the writing, when it was good, was better than I remembered. I particularly enjoyed an idiosyncratic scene where one character, formerly a complete monster and bully, decides to turn his life around and starts acting differently. Such things do happen occasionally in real life, but you rarely see them in books.
Mild cautions for language and sexual situations. I recommend the Henry Wood books, thus far.

Enlighten me not

I’m just dipping my toe into the boundless sea that is online graduate study, and I got involved in a discussion the other day that I thought I’d post something about. The instructor wanted us to share our feelings about the Enlightenment.

The Enlightenment, in case you haven’t brushed up your history in a while, was an intellectual movement that flourished in the 18th Century. Thinkers like Rousseau and Voltaire were leading lights. It was a reaction against the religious passions that had caused so much death and suffering through religious wars like the Thirty Years’ War. We religious types had made ourselves look pretty bad, and decent people began to think we’d all be better off if we jettisoned God entirely. But on what would we base our morality, without a God?

Oddly enough, Isaac Newton (himself a devout, if unorthodox, Christian) gave them their answer. Newton discovered what looked like absolute, immutable laws in the universe. Everything could be explained in terms of mathematics. Ultimate truth, for the fervid Newtonian, was mechanical, impersonal. Obviously morality was also a matter of eternal rules. Identify those rules and that was all the revelation you needed. Human nature was ultimately simple too, and soon we would know how it worked. Then we’d be able to establish a rational government which would permit everyone’s natural goodness to blossom like a flower.

The problem with the Enlightenment was that it was over-simple. Human beings just aren’t that neat (neither is the universe, as we’ve learned since). Human beings, and the universe, are like Doctor Who’s Tardis, bigger inside than outside. As you go deeper in, you discover new levels of complexity.

This, I think, explains the horrors of ideology in the centuries since the Enlightenment. Every tyrant thinks he’s found, at last, the simple key to human nature. It’s economics (Marx). It’s frustrated sex (Freud). It’s race (Hitler). Despot after despot tries to impose his simple solution on the people he rules, and the people stubbornly refuse to respond in a scientific way. So he’s forced to kill them, and to try to find some better people.

The difference between post-Enlightenment horrors and pre-Enlightenment horrors, it seems to me, is the industrialization of evil. The religious fanatic may kill you because he considers you evil, a tool of Satan. But the statist kills you without caring who you are. You’re just in the way, like a tree in a building zone.

Bill Watterson's Advice Illustrated by Gavin Aung Than

Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare acheivement,” said cartooning giant Bill Watterson back in 1990. Those words are wonderfully illustrated by Zen Pencils’ Gavin Aung Than. It’s stirring. I don’t know how I could follow this advice, but Watterson’s personal example makes some sense.

What do you think?

Jill the Reckless, by P.G. Wodehouse

I just finished a free ebook version (functional formatting and scattered erroneous letters) of P.G. Wodehouse’s trans-Atlantic rom-com Jill the Reckless. It was published in 1921 in the United Kingdom after a couple serializations, under the name, The Little Warrior, in American and Canadian magazines the year before. To cut to the chase, I enjoyed it overall, but I can’t say I lapped it up.

Jill, a delightful young lady with far more impetuous bravado than ladies usually indulge at her age, is the focus on Sir Derek Underhill’s affections and anxiety. He loves her, but he’s worried his mother will not accept her. Derek’s close friend and life-long admirer, Freddie Rooke, understands the unyielding terror that Derek’s mother is and hopes to rally round his friend to support him against this maternal fiend. No, it doesn’t go well. Well is precisely how it doesn’t go, but that isn’t the event that turns Lady Underhill against Jill. That event occurs later that evening when a theatre burns to the ground and Jill, becoming separated from the Underhills, ends up dining with another man a couple tables away from her finance.

That’s the first half of act one, so there’s a lot more to love. In acts two and three, Wodehouse draws us into the world of musical theater, where most managers are human and no one expects to be treated fairly. Wodehouse worked in this world with some famous names, so I can’t help thinking he is revealing some of his personal experiences. His description of the office boy species sounds informed by an explorer’s chronicle.

I say I didn’t lap it all up, because this work doesn’t carry the light-hearted air consistently throughout. At a couple points, it gets rather serious. I can’t say I have any favorite scenes, though Bill the Parrot’s Big Adventure comes to mind. Still it’s as charming reading as I’m sure Jill is herself. If you don’t mind paying for it, I recommend the print version for ease of use.

The Return, by James D. Best


I’ve read, and reviewed, one previous Steve Dancy western adventure/mystery by James D. Best – Murder at Thumb Butte. I found it a well-written tale with good, but somewhat irritating, characters.
The Return, another Dancy story, is another well-written tale. But it turned me off the series, not because of the writing, but because of one of the themes.
Although technically a western, The Return is actually set mostly in New York City. In the first, shorter section of the story, Steve and his friend Jeff Sharp are closing out their business in Leadville, Colorado. They’ve made a lot of money, and now they want to go east to see their friend Edison, hoping to secure distribution rights for his electric lights for use in mining. They have a little trouble – the kind you handle with a gun – before they go, but they take care of that with the help of Virginia Baker, a storekeeper with whom Steve finds himself, unexpectedly, in love.
Going home, they find that Edison is having some trouble with sabotage in his project to electrify a section of New York City. With the help of Virginia and their old Pinkerton friend, McAllen, they start investigating, and soon find themselves in danger.
It was a subplot of The Return that irritated me. Dancy is the son of a wealthy New York family, and his surviving parent, his mother, is a tremendous snob on top of being deeply involved in political corruption. She is shocked that Steve is sharing a hotel room with Virginia, and the author devotes a fair amount of time to making sure we know how hypocritical and judgmental her attitude is. Steve’s ability to defy her through premarital cohabitation is presented as a sort of moral triumph.
I’m too old-fashioned for that kind of newfangled, Victorian morality.

Returning to the Joy in Writing

In The Rabbit Room, Jeffrey Overstreet talks about quitting his dream jobs in order to make time to telling good stories. “It was surprising and disillusioning to discover that, even if you publish a four-book epic fantasy series and earn a spotlight on Barnes and Noble’s ‘Notable Fiction’ displays, you’re not going to find the bills much easier to pay,” he says.

“It’s time to clean the slate and start over. I need to “go back to Square One” and rediscover the ability to dream.”

Film review: Whit Stillman's 'Damsels in Distress'

The first time I watched Damsels in Distress, Whit Stillman’s most recent (after a twelve-year hiatus) film, I thought it was very funny and full of great, surreal dialogue (Stillman’s characters talk like people in books, but then so do I, so I feel right at home), but I wasn’t sure it succeeded as a total work of art. After a second viewing, and a third with the commentary track on, I’m now convinced that it actually works very well, taken on its own terms. In fact, it’s now my favorite of Stillman’s movies.

The film (set, like much of Stillman’s work, in a universe a little loosely moored in time) starts with Lily (Analeigh Tipton), a transfer student, enrolling at Seven Oaks College in New York State. She meets the Girls With Flower Names, and accepts their offer to let her move in with them. Their leader is Violet (Greta Gerwig), who speaks with great conviction and eloquence, and is wrong in almost every factual statement she makes. But she has a great heart, and has devoted her life to helping others. She and her friends run a campus suicide prevention center, where they offer donuts and tap dancing lessons to the clinically depressed. Her great dream is to benefit mankind by starting a dance craze, like the Charleston or the Twist. She prefers to date guys who are neither especially good looking nor especially bright, feeling she can help them achieve their potential, if any. Continue reading Film review: Whit Stillman's 'Damsels in Distress'