Cynthia Freeman. Portraits (1979)

    Cynthia Freeman. Portraits (1979) A Family Saga Romance. A Jewish family emigrates to the USA in the early 1900s. The story follows their fortunes, etc to the present day, when one of the last survivors starts writing this story.
     A bad book, relying on incident (eg, a vicious beating of the hero) and plot (most of which is signalled well ahead of time, just in case your attention wanders), with cursory attempts at socio-economic description. Much telling, very little showing, stereotypical characters and incidents. The story is “realistic,” in that the characters are not saints by any means; but they have moments of insight which bring them round, so that their bad feelings and attitudes don’t last very long. The book has Hollywood and TV rights written all over it; in the right hands it would make a Serious Dramatic miniseries. In other words, light weight trash. I read about 1/4 of it, and had enough. Fay got this book at Books and Stuff, for light summer reading; which it is, but not the best example of its genre.
     Freeman started writing at age 55, and had some success. She explains a lot, which makes for easy reading. She aims at the middle, that kind of reader who doesn’t want to figure things out, doesn’t want to get too involved with the characters, doesn’t want too much intellectual or moral shock, in fact wants to have her prejudices and opinions confirmed, especially the progressive ones. In this, Freeman succeeds. But I don’t like it. * (2002)

Gordon R. Dickson. Mindspan (1986)

     Gordon R. Dickson. Mindspan (1986) Collection of stories about human-alien encounters. Several of the stories form short series, one about Harry Shallo, and one about Tim and Lucy Parent. In all the stories, human (i.e., American) orneriness, cunning, and sheer irrational savvy are shown to be a match for any mere alien. Which raises the question of whether we can imagine an alien of truly superior skill and intelligence. Apparently not. Entertaining, well plotted, nicely written, and swift moving, so that one doesn’t notice the holes in the logic or the thinness of the characters while enjoying these tales. Dickson wrote them for Galaxy and similar 1950s-60s pulps. The editors’ stinginess forced low word counts, which I’m sure contributed to the compressed and often elegant style of tale telling. ** to ***. (2002)

J. Thurber. and E. B. White. Is Sex Necessary? (1929, 1950)

     J. Thurber. and E. B. White. Is Sex Necessary? (1929, 1950) Somewhat dated in its coy humour, but stylish and amusing. Thurber’s analysis of “pedestalism” still stands. The fact that this book was considered screamingly funny when it first appeared tells us a lot about the American obsession with sex, and Americans’ false assumption that other, more sophisticated, societies (e.g. Europe) don’t have the same neuroses as they do. Thurber’s drawings are wonderful. He can put more expression in a single line than some more skillful draftsmen put into a whole picture. **-½ (2002)

Robert Campbell. Plugged Nickel (1988)

     Robert Campbell. Plugged Nickel (1988) Bought at Value Village because it’s set on a train, and obviously a remaindered copy, never read. Jake Hatch is the P.I., he’s a railroad cop working for the Burlington Northern. A severed body is found on the tracks, but the two parts turn out to be from different bodies. And so what might be a gruesome accident turns out to be murder. The puzzle is competently handled, although the denouement is somewhat perfunctory. The characters and atmosphere are pleasant, and we learn a little bit about gypsies. Not the best such entertainment, and not the worst either. Campbell doesn’t get the railroady bits quite right, which may be the reason this didn’t turn into a series as planned. Or maybe it did. The next book was to be titled Red Cent. I haven’t seen it, but I will look for it. ** (2002)

Barton J. Bernstein. Towards a New Past (1969)

     Barton J. Bernstein. Towards a New Past (1969) A collection of “dissenting essays in American History,” and as such containing interesting points of view based in some cases on new data. Many of these points of view would be considered subversive right now. The trouble is, it’s an academic book, put together for undergraduate history courses. I pity the people who had to read this book for credit. The style for the most part is clotted and obscurantist, often written to an audience that presumably has the same knowledge base as the writer. The most readable essay is Christopher Lasch’s, in which he lambastes the “liberals” that allied themselves with right-wing anti-communist paranoia.
      The date of the book suggests reasons for its publication: the 60s were a brief resurgence of the liberal tradition in American society, a tradition that is once again under attack, since it represents what used to be called conservative attitudes: respect for the individual; the view that the state exists to protect the weak from the powerful (which entails redistribution of wealth); a belief that government should promote the general good and not arbitrate between competing interests (for such arbitration inevitably results in co-option by one or another of those interests); and so on.
     Much of its material is, as the academics say, “valuable,” but the academic tone and attitudes put off the people who most need a corrective to their myths of the American past: the ordinary Jane and Joe who believe what is mostly a rickety structure of lies and conscience-salving myths. The heirs of the dissenting tradition, the ultra-sensitive would-be reformers of racist, sexist, classist attitudes, are themselves as guilty of misreading the past as those whom they attack. Since their misreadings for the most part have no political or economic consequences, they are happily included in current TV and movies. The real issues, which are misunderstanding of money and power, and hence mistaken analysis of how they work in our society, are ignored in favour of attempts to avoid affronting those who feel they have a historical grievance of one kind or another.
     Clearly a book that provokes responses. But, oh, how tedious to read! ** (2002)

E. J. West Shaw on Theatre (1958)

     E. J. West Shaw on Theatre (1958) Collection of essays, and public and private letters, therefore somewhat repetitive. The last few pieces, written when Shaw had outlived everybody who ever mattered to him, could have been left out, but in fact are the best summaries of his views and knowledge, and should be first reading for any student of GBS. His claim that he went back to earlier modes of drama is one I can’t check, but from what I know of Shakespeare and the Greeks, I think it’s exaggerated. His claim that the declamatory style of acting is the main tradition, and that he wrote for it, is easier to check: one simply goes to a modern production. And guess what: his plays work just as well done in the low-key naturalistic style that is now once again in vogue. Which means that his scripts are largely director- and actor-proof, just as Shakespeare’s are.
     GBS's contempt for what he calls police magazine stories and petty adulteries as the stuff of theatre gets shriller as he ages. From what we now know about his sex life, it appears he protests too much. As some other cynic said, as sexual capability and interest diminish with age, sexual disgust increases. I read this book as much for the style as for the information. Pretty good, and quotable. *** (2002)

Norman Thelwell. Penelope Rides Again (1991)

     Norman Thelwell. Penelope Rides Again (1991) Cartoons of Penelope and her friends and their ponies. Bought at a yard sale for possible gift to one of our nieces. Like all cartoon books, hard to take in one gulp. Thelwell’s girl and pony cartoons were first published in Punch and some  British kids’ comics. The Telegraph picked him up as a regular, and this book (and many others, according to the flyleaf list) is the result. Thelwell's fat little ponies and the little girls that bounce around on them have a certain charm, but I suspect it’s a specialised taste. **