Need for Lighter Literary Entrees

Just as we are what we eat, what is ingested intellectually (and let's face it, often on a spiritual level) can color one's outlook. Neither a "good" or "bad" thing, depending on the nature of what is being read, the experience can lead into some dark, though not wholly unsavory, places. This reality is further enhanced in the winter months of perceptibly shorter days and longer periods of darkness...

As a result of recent wear-and-tear that has kept me from running, I have more time. In an effort to fill this gap constructively, I have been reading quite a bit, perhaps more than usual. Though not part of some New Year's literacy resolution, since the start of the new calendar year I have been taking in numerous titles in rapid succession including The Southern Reach Trilogy (Annihilation, Authority and Acceptance) and Borne by Jeff VanderMeer, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Roadside Picnic by Boris Strugatsky and Arkady Strugatsky, Monsters Among Us: An Exploration of Otherworldly Bigfoots, Wolfmen, Portals, Phantoms, and Odd Phenomena by Linda S. Godfrey, March Book One by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell, and Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.

As is always the case with new menu items, in some case I have taken one or two bites and walked away. The Breach by Patrick Lee, for example, just didn't offer enough nutritious value to warrant a full commitment. My personal reading, as has been the case for going on 35 years(!), is always supplemented by a healthy diet of 6-17 comic book titles weekly ranging from the familiar (Action Comics, Detective Comics, The Walking Dead, Black Panther) to "smaller" titles (Evolution, Atomic Robo, Saga, Hack/Slash or Bloodshot).

Each of the literary dishes on this reconstituted diet plan contained some very satisfying flavors in the moments of their enjoyment. In retrospect, however, the majority also possessed some dark and bitter tones. There is a valid argument to be made that much good reading, when considered beyond the superficial, does. Of course, this type of diet does not come without consequences, especially to a body (or mind--trying to stick to my metaphor!) already deficient in certain nutrients. Just as a lack of sunlight in one's day may require adding a Vitamin D supplement to any gustatory regimen, at some point, lighter, more uplifting literature becomes a necessity.

This is where I am at today--in dire need of some light, airy, new reading! While I have a number of books of poetry I turn to for warmth, and more than enough long boxes of past favorites from a "friendlier" time in comic books, filling this requirement in traditional longer-form narrative literature is always a challenge. Interestingly, two recent titles I have enjoyed in the past deal with anthropomorphic animals--a pattern I am unsure as to why it exists it my personal reading tastes (especially as I no longer literally "eat" animals). The first came from a recommendation made on NPR Radio. A few summers ago I read a wonderful piece of historical fiction entitled The Sage of Waterloo by Leona Francombe. It remains the rare book that is neither insultingly silly or immature, that tells a compelling story with weight in a manner that suggests joy and warmth. It also serves as a reminder of the value of expanding one's book choice as it was purchased on a lark, but was significantly rewarding. The second was first read ten years ago and (brainstorming as I write this) may very well get reread soon for purposes of sharing with my current high school juniors, Benjamin Hoff's The Tao of Pooh.

With these two titles (and a few others) in mind, the search for lighter literary entrees continues as I attempt to cleanse my intellectual and spiritual palette of some darker (albeit delicious) flavors...

Read It: The Lone Ranger Rides North (1946)

This edition includes the erroneous character creator credit of the Lone Ranger 

to radio station manager George Trendle. Some of the basic ideas were his,

but were fleshed out to great success by Fran Striker.

Recently, I spent nearly six hours in a hospital waiting room as my mother underwent back surgery. With all the class papers graded, I turned to the pile of books I have been periodically reading on-and-off for (what turns out to be) a ve-e-e-ry long time. One book in particular provided an opportunity to escape the waiting room and travel back to those thrilling days of yesteryear...

This volume is easy to find online

at a very affordable price, though I

went to Berkeley, CA, to get mine.

Three summers ago, while visiting my best friend in California, we found ourselves in an independent used bookstore in Berkeley. There I came across an old volume entitled The Lone Ranger Rides North written by Fran Striker. Despite being a Western New Yorker myself, I had little prior understanding that Striker was not only from nearby Buffalo, New York, but was also the creator of both the Lone Ranger and the Green Hornet. Given the volume's slight price, and as a fan of both the character's classic Clayton Moore iteration (the one I, like most, are best acquainted with) as well as it's modern Dynamite comicbooks' version, it was a purchase that could not be resisted.

Published in 1946, The Lone Ranger Rides North is comprised of thirty chapters in which are developed three storylines, which when combined, read very much like one of the Clayton Moore's 169 episodes (or the 52 made with replacement Ranger John Hart). It is easy to envision these stories as some that were ultimately serialized for either radio or television. Present in the story are the familiar plot points of traditional Hollywood cowboy heroics: slick, smooth talking criminals, kind-hearted regular folk put in danger and in need of rescue, and our masked hero needing to clear his own name from the nefarious deeds committed by another.

The interesting reveal in this novel for fans is the introduction of a young boy named Danny who idolizes and feels a connection to the Lone Ranger. Long time Lone Ranger fans will recall that "Danny" is actually Dan Reid, the Ranger's long lost nephew whom he believed dead. In modern Ranger stories, including the recent box-office failure Gore Verbinski's The Lone Ranger (2013), Danny is such an integral part of our hero's origin that the reader likely connects the dots earlier than the novel's original audience. This Lone Ranger is much more mysterious here with only the most common characterization traits, including his faithful companion Tonto and their trusty steeds, in tact. Freed of the contemporary necessity for explanation of every single, minute facet of a character's background, the hero of The Lone Ranger Rides North draws much of his strength from his mysterious background. Here, he is a force of good who does not need the humanizing relationship of extended family to elicit the support of the reader.

Given Striker's professional training as a radio theater writer, the storytelling approach is dialogue heavy with most exposition taking place at the beginning of each chapter. Our narrator is so extremely third person omniscient that he frequently (and with language bordering on melo-drama) takes the reader into each character's head to reveal feelings that might otherwise be reflected in the voices of actors delivering the lines. For example, maudlin lines such as the one below saying of Danny that "there were tears in his eyes--tears of pride and gratitude" would be cringe worthy if not for the proper historical context. In 1946, in a story about the heroic Lone Ranger, this time of syrupy language seems somehow appropriate in a tale of "the resourceful masked rider of the plains."

The Lone Ranger Rides North (1946) by Fran Striker is readily available online for less than $10, a more-than-worthwhile purchase for Ranger and fans of Americana alike.

Extraterrestrial Encounters of the Literary Kind

I miss good used book stores. Not the shops that tear half of the covers off or only carry titles  that no one ever purchased in the first place (after all we still have the Dollar Store for those), but stores that sold previously read (and loved) books that were unusual or long out of print. I recently came across some books that had been purchased at a long closed used book store in my neighborhood, the Brown Bag Bookshop. They would carry all genres of unique and hard-to-find titles, some that were of great (intellectual) value. Among those books was one that may may prove very valuable in the alien-invasion-end-days-to-come, Barlowe's Guide to Extraterrestrials: Great Aliens from Science Fiction Literature.

Illustrated by Wayne Douglas Barlow ("the John James Audubon of otherworld creatures," or so the inside cover announces) and written by Ian Summers and Beth Meacham, Barlowe's Guide a comprehensive text and image of fifty alien creatures and worlds from science fiction literature. Drawing from the witting of prominent sci-fi authors such as Alan Dean Foster  and Ursula  K. LeGuin, the trio have crafted a beautiful collection of detailed illustrations and biographical info for a variety of literary alien species. With all the information one would find in a traditional field guide, including a gate-fold "Comparative Size Chart," this collection is a fantastic resource for fans of sci-fi literature as the drawings are based on the source documents from which they spring.

Sadly, this copy had been on my shelf during the time I actually read (or re-read) a number of the novels referenced within, and in some cases the visual would have helped by early comprehension. In other cases, the artist's visual interpretation based on his reading of the boo or story varied from my own, but it was interesting to consider just why that may have been. Looking back, there is a pretty huge spoiler for one of the novel's on the cover which I am glad not to have seen before reaching that point in my reading.With so many class pieces of science-fiction literature represented, and iconic creatures, it was a challenge to choose only of a select few favorites to share here.

Barlowe's Guide, page 68.

Barlowe's Guide, page 70.

Barlowe's Guide, page 98.

Published in 1979 by Workman Publishing, the copy I bought was only $8 in beautiful condition only six or seven years ago. A quick search online reveals that there are quite a few copies of this classic book available at the usual places, for not very much money at all, and many of the images can now be seen on the Interwebs, and a more detailed listing of the species included (along with source documents) within are viewable at it's Wikipedia entry.

Sci-Friday: The Quotable Dune

It would appear that I am once again late to the party, but better late than never.

While waiting for my stepson to get out of work this afternoon, I turned on the radio to catch the last few minutes of NPR Science Friday. Though I rarely have the opportunity to listen for as long as I'd like to, the news is timely and the stories are often about subjects of which I have little background knowledge. It continues to be exciting to learn new things, and as someone who laments having not paid more attention in high school and college science classes, Science Friday feels like a joyful penance.

The few minutes that I did catch consisted in part of host Ira Flatow reminding the audience that the summer read was going to be concluding next week. Though I have not been part of (nor was I even aware of its existence) the NPR Science Friday Book Club had the past three weeks been focusing on one of my all-time favorites, Frank Herbert's classic Dune.

I immediately regretted having missed the opportunity to follow the conversation, and quickly made a note in my pocket notebook to tune in next week when Ira, Kim Stanley Robinson, Sara Imari Walker, and Annie Minoff wrap up the discussion. At the conclusion of this past Friday's broadcast, Ira also reminded listeners to head to the Sci-Fri Blog and "Record yourself reading your favorite quote from Dune." Upon hearing this prompt, my mind immediately went to the slim volume on my bookshelf picked up at a used bookstore over ten years ago, The Notebooks of Frank Herbert's Dune.

Published in July 1988 by Perigree Trade,
with atmospheric cover by Raquel Jaramillo.

Not really a notebook at all, The Notebooks is a collection of excerpts and lines culled from Herbert's six highly quotable completed novels. Edited by his son, Brian, this 63 page paperback offers quotes in both standard font as well as key "ancient quotes" and "historical documents" from the Dune Universe elegantly illustrated by Raquel Jaramillo.

I've posted previously about the similarities between the modern media phenom that is George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones and Dune. While one series of novels intentionally touches on environmental and social issues, and the other has a stronger predilection with sex and violence (you guess which is which), and series both are chock-full of intriguing characters. Fortunately for the reader, these characters are given numerous memorable lines of dialogue which are easily isolated for use as witty sayings or intellectual-sounding observations by the reader with a sharp memory for such things. (Of course, the same observation could easily be made regarding J.R.R. Tolkien's Middle Earth novels--as evidenced by the myriad twitter feeds that regularly share the author's lines--but that is a post for another time.)

The majority of the memorable lines from the A Song of Fire and Ice novels primarily reflect the characterization and wit (or lack thereof) of the specific characters, most notably Tyrion. (Not surprisingly, Tyrion's lines have also been collected into a single volume!) In contrast, lines from the Dune series have an additional weight given the political perspectives of both the characters and (by extension) the author which they communicate.

After reading through The Notebooks of Frank Herbert's Dune, choosing a single quote would be challenging, given that the books are an embarrassment of riches when it comes to such excerpts, and it would be tough not to go with perhaps the most well know, the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear:

In preparation for next week's final book club meeting, I'm going to make the effort to catch up with the conversation before Friday at 2 p.m. To do so, I plan to spend time this coming week with my well-worn copy of Hebert's Dune and reading through RebelMouse blog online. Fortunately digital bread crumbs have been left behind so even those, like myself, who are late to the party, can catch up or at the very least make up ground!

Summer Reading: Life of Pi

Though summer break doesn't officially begin for me until June 29, I began my annual summer reading a little early this year, by completing a book I have been "reading" for nearly two years now. Let me explain: I usually have anywhere from 4-6 different novels that I'm working on between pre- or re-reading works that I teach in my classes. Additionally, I read anywhere from 3-10 comic books weekly, as well as assorted graphic novels, newspapers, and magazines.

Some novels grab me instantly and they're read straight through in a few days (Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry or Che: A Revolutionary Life by Jon Lee Anderson being the two most recent) while some take a while to catch fire for me. Yann Martel's tremendously successful novel Life of Pi has long been on my bookshelf, begun only in fits and starts. For whatever reason, I picked it up once about a week ago and it clicked. A fictional survivalist-adventure (with a healthy dose of spirituality), Life of Pi recounts the now familiar fictitious story of Piscene "Pi" Molitor Patel's  227 days at sea following a shipwreck with only two survivors, Pi and a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker.

Though not often the case with popular (translation: financially successful) novels, Life of Pi's greatest attribute, in addition to the ability to move over 10 million copies, is its multiple layers of potential reading value: for the recreational/book club reader there is much to consider, discuss, and entertain. For those seeking opportunities for deeper literary analysis, Pi's narrative structure and unusual character development and conflict also leave much open to reasonable analysis. Modern in its use of a varying storytelling strategies (Martel plays with a number of points-of-view and typographical approaches), Pi offers the reader the choice as to whether or not they wish to dig deeply. Failing to do so, sometimes one just wants to read a book rather than dissect it along the way, Pi still delivers some surprising twists.

I'm not entirely sure why I failed to connect with Martel's novel until recently, except to say that sometimes books reveal themselves to you when you need them. I was looking for some escapist reading with an engaging structure and approach and--wallah!--there was Life of Pi! In the spirit of one of the novels's key themes, when I needed an entertainment, Pi was the either the story I chose, or that chose me, to kick of a summer of stimulating (fingers crossed!) reading.