From Murder to Lit Crit

The Walter Mosley book, When the Thrill Is Gone, was very entertaining and philosophical (for a murder mystery), as all Mosley's books are. I always enjoy them--they are fast paced but somehow also deep. The characters are flawed but noble. He's a great writer. The only problem I have with his novels (and others of that genre) is his insistence on honoring the tradition among murder mystery writers of including detailed descriptions of characters' clothing. I don't know how this sartorial motif started, but it's puzzling--and a bit annoying--to me. Ah well, it's also amusing in a way, too.

Next I decided to return to the "T" books so I could get the complete set read. Having perused a free book by Time magazine called The Making of America containing some of the old traditional stories of American history, I decided the book would just make me irritated because by now most of the old historical accounts I learned in school have been thoroughly debunked or revised. So that one's going to the library.

I have two Studs Terkel books I'm saving for later, and one literary criticism book edited by Michelle Tokarczyk and Elizabeth Fay called Working Class Women in the Academy, a volume of essays that came out about 20 years ago. I've read one or two of the articles, but decided it was time I read the rest. So that's what I've been doing this week, and much to my surprise, I'm enjoying it immensely. I'm also remembering why I was studying the subject back in my graduate school days.

So I guess it'll be a while longer before I get to the "M" books.

I'll report on my progress next time.

Into the Woods, Into the Past

I actually am enjoying Thoreau's Maine Woods the second time around. I keep trying to picture Maine more than 170 years ago.  His is a more philosophical account of travels than the average person would write, I think. He seems respectful of people and nature as well.  He makes interesting observations about the logging business and the fading trapping business.  He seems interested in the indigenous people he encounters; he asks about their words and their customs. At the end of the book there is a glossary of place names that are translated from the native language into English.  Many native place names are gone now, so it's interesting to see what they were when still being used.

He talks about tiny towns like Greenville that are now not really much bigger than they were then. I keep reflecting on my ancestors and other cousins and trying to imagine what they were doing when Thoreau was in their midst. When Thoreau sails down the Penobscot toward Bangor, for instance, he goes by my cousin's house as it is now and was then, since it was built in the 18th century. He talks about Sugar Island, where my grandfather was born about 50 years after that. In fact, my great grandparents weren't even born yet when he was passing through Greenville.  My great-great grandparents were just getting started on their lives in the United States, having migrated from Canada a few years before.

Thoreau details the plants and animals he finds as he travels; the lists are a little boring to me, but his impulse is interesting. It's as if he wants to document these phenomena before they are gone forever.  I get the sense that he knows much of the wilderness will soon be gone and he is mourning its passing.  I wonder if he would have been surprised by just how much wilderness remains in Maine, though most of it is probably regrowth from logging.

It's been a worthwhile read, I think. I recommend it to all who want a close up history of a particular region of our country, and a window into a time when the wilderness was vanishing before our eyes.

Next I'll launch into one of the "M" books, I think. I've started a Walter Mosley novel so I'll probably continue with that.

French Fun, Southern Portraits, Maine Travels

After reading French Fun, I moved on to fiction by Jean Toomer: his signature book, Cane. It has been called a novel, but is really not that organized, being made up of a variety of poems and sketches about fictional African-American people of his era, mostly women, mostly Georgian country folk. 

Toomer was born Nathan Eugene Toomer in 1894, was raised by middle-class grandparents, attended several colleges and later taught at a black college in Georgia before settling into a writing career. It was while he was teaching in Sparta, GA that he wrote the book for which he is still known. Cane was published in 1923, just in time for the Harlem Renaissance, when interest in all-things-negro was at a high. The edition of the book I have was published in 1975, but there is a new addition out with an afterword by Henry Louis Gates. Cane is no doubt still a staple of African American Studies programs, so it will probably continue to stay in print.

Jean Toomer

I'm glad I started with the introduction to the book; it was informative and helpful for understanding the unusual structure of the work.  I enjoyed reading Cane for the most part, but I must admit that although it was well written, I had to fast-forward through parts of it.  All in all, I'm glad I discovered it at last since it's been sitting on my book shelf for quite a few years having been bought while I was still a graduate student at UC Davis, back in the nineties.  I recommend it to those interested in African American literature and history, but do read the introduction first to help you get more out of it.

Next, I want to try to finish reading Henry David Thoreau's The Maine Woods, a collection of his writings about his travels in Maine in the mid-nineteenth century. I started it a while back, but didn't get very far, so I'm hoping this time it will prove more entertaining.

Until then . . .