Ruthless Reading

So I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been saving this one for a ripe time to post, “On the Road” being one of the most influential books I have personally read in my life.  I fell in love with Kerouac’s style immediately, a sort of rambling prose that beautifully expresses every last detail of Kerouac’s journey across America with Neal Cassady as they pioneered what would later be referred to as the “Beat Generation” of the 1950s.  I regard this lengthy work (it took me two years of off and on reading to finish the 2——pages) with the utmost respect in regards to what a new writer should aspire to achieve in the long run with their career as a contemporaneously responsible scribe.  Kerouac’s singularly authoritative representation of his position in time, through painstakingly detailed autobiographical documentation (sometimes coalescing into multiple-page-long paragraphs), distributes the traits of what I consider genuine American literary artwork.  The history involved in the actions of Kerouac and his compatriots (who include other pioneers of the “Beat Generation”; specifically William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg) as they literally insurrect the  Beat Generation through their influence, is perfectly preserved by Kerouac in a fashion that allows the reader to sit shotgun in the very vehicle that started what would later evolve into the hippie and free love movement of the 1960s.  Both radical movements (Beat Generation and Free Love) being spurred by an outpouring of disenchanted youth and their attachment to any kind of behavior considered morally unorthodox by their parents’ generation’s overwhelmingly conservative values.  Of the trends endorsed by the Beat Generation was their infamous ability for creating deadly insightful poetry and prose, they also exhibited a certain appetite for “digging” live jazz performances and partaking in the recreational use of narcotics.  Although Kerouac eventually changed all of the names of the characters in “On the Road” (and is sparsely rumored to have slightly elaborated in his genuine, and adroitly successful attempt at accurate and vivid description), a large percentage of the historically poignant personal experiences he illustrates himself participating in are legitimately “straight from the horse’s mouth” and verifiable.  Kerouac’s influence and his prominence as one of the purest voices of a generation qualify “On the Road” as an absolute must read if you want any prayer of having a respectable understanding of the generation that started what is now widely considered the counterculture.  Following I’m including my favorite line from “On the Road” to provide a significant example of Kerouac’s ingenuous writing style and disposition:

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’”

- Jack Kerouac “On the Road”(1951)

Now if you know anything of the history of this story of fiction it may seem redundant to see this title in my list, of the cult followings I’ve clutched to, the mass gathered around this grim tale is nearly top spot in numbers.  The reason for the whispered reputation of this legally battered book has a lot to do with the absolutely profane subject matter, however the story is one of the most brilliant works I’ve ever read.  The plot unfolds from the perception of the ruthless antihero Alex, who is the teenage leader of a gang in socialist England that takes sport in using narcotics, vandalizing, terrorizing, committing regular armed robbery and assault along with other unmentionable acts.  The time period is in the dystopian future which makes for an interesting read for the sole reason of being a good attempt on Burgess’s part at prognostication.  Burgess even goes as far as to create a teenage slang (from what I understand it is gleaned from Russian and English) called Nadsat that Alex communicates to the reader and his friends with.  This is an incredibly unique experience to “A Clockwork Orange”; reading a book and learning a new language out of the sheer necessity to keep up in the plot, every paragraph interspersed with words from the slang language nestled next to conversational British English can be difficult to interpret.  Resilience to wade through the prose of this book to ascertain Burgess’s overall lesson will not leave you hungry or unfulfilled whatsoever with your reading experience.

Due to an incredibly heinous crime that Alex participates in, he is subjected to an experimental method for curing violent tendencies.  The method involves strapping Alex to a chair and forcing him to watch violent scenes while inducing a nauseating drug into his system, prompting him to associate violence with negativity.  The actions of the physicians are what I think is an attempted jab by Burgess at the idea of subjecting anyone requisite of psychological treatment to a cut and dried system of efficiency, when all they need is freedom to grow.  The context of the book is dark, but there is a strange underlying electric excitement that never dwindles throughout the duration of reading this book.  I suggest “A Clockwork Orange” to anyone with an appreciation for irony and sinister creativity, but with a cautionary air because the subject matter turns simply gruesome at some points.

“The Sirens of Titan” is the second book I’ve read by Kurt Vonnegut and it follows suit quite nicely with his style.  What I’m trying to say is that this book is chock full of all the essence of Vonnegut that first pulled me through “Slaughterhouse-Five.”  His undying grasp of tying humor into his stories to help describe an incredibly profound and complex idea is always rippling beneath the surface of his words.  This particular story is probably best classified as a science fiction work, containing an invasion of Earth by Mars, Vonnegut’s made up planet of Tralfamadore (which is referenced in Slaughterhouse-Five), and vivid descriptions of Saturn’s rings and one of its moons, Titan.  The main character in the story, Malachi Constant, is the 22nd century’s most notoriously wealthy playboy and lavish party-thrower, but has never done anything significant with his life.  Constant’s affluent life, which he sponsors with the fortune of his father, is severely interrupted when he chooses to accept an invitation to Winston Niles Rumfoord’s mansion in New Jersey.  Rumfoord, who can be most accurately described as prodigious, is the only man to have ventured into space privately and to survive coming into contact with the synclastic infudibulum in the vacuums of space.  Rumfoord snatches up Constant and predenaturally places him in one of the most twisted and hilarious story lines I’ve read.  The subject matter will keep you reading this book even if the vastly detailed characters and plot do not, ranging from intergalactic exploration to self discovery, absolute spiritualism to laboratory science.  ”Siren’s of Titan” is also a short read that leaves you feeling certain that the time you spent reading it was completely worth the new outlook for your life in general that its pages provide.  Vonnegut continues to impress me more each time I read his literature and I become more convinced each time I literally laugh at loud while reading his work that he is truly one of America’s best authors.

So we’re going to switch over to one of the most entertaining and incredibly humorous authors I’ve ever read, Kurt Vonnegut.  ”Slaughterhouse-Five” is Vonnegut’s most well known work of literature, and one of two of his books that I have read.  The plot centers around Vonnegut’s involvement in World War II and his witnessing the fire-bombing of Dresden.  The main character, Billy Pilgrim (who is Vonnegut) rumbles through incarceration in a German prison camp where they’re living quarters are an old slaughterhouse, hence the title of the book.  Despite being incredible funny, it made me laugh out loud on several occasions anyway, this book is also historically poignant due to Vonnegut’s personal eye-witness of the worst mass killing in world history.  To put it in perspective, here’s a quote from Vonnegut himself regarding the matter, “You guys [British Royal Air Force and US Air Force] burnt the place down, turned it into a single column of flame.  More people died there in the firestorm, in that one big flame, than died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined.”  This unique and personal view of World War II was the first book I read of this nature and left me with a greater appreciation for the horror that surrounded the many facets of that war.  By being funny and having a kind of “I’m your buddy and I’m recounting my experiences in the war” feel to the book, Vonnegut takes the very deathly serious matter of war and makes it enjoyable to witness.  The window he creates to such a strange time in the history of our world’s relations is verifiably unique and his recreation of his experiences, self-depricating humor and all, pulls you mercilessly through the relatively short novel until imminent completion.  Sort of a whiplash experience, it’ll turn you into the worst kind of reading junkie there is.  You’ll be too involved in this story, you will lose your friends, you’ll find dark circles under your eyes, but you won’t mind because is singularly fulfilling.

Okay, so we’re back on track this time with some more Salinger.  Sorry if it seems I overrepresent his work in this publication, but with all of my reading, which I assure you isn’t just Salinger, I’ve never come across a voice such as his; one that I consider incredibly wise and pure.  ”Seymour; An Introduction” is very much akin to a dissertation on metaphysics and existentialism, simply wrapped in a more surreptitious, incredibly well-written package.  It is the second in a collection of two novellas, much like the way “Franny and Zooey” were presented, except that they don’t really share a common story aside from both being written from the perspective of Buddy Glass.  However, like I’ve seemed to reflect in these discourses due to my close study of Salinger’s writing style, “Seymour; An Introduction” is full of nearly two-hundred word sentences.  This is a constant theme in Salinger’s writing style in general, but it seems immensely more prevalent in this particular work.  However, if you can “keep pace,” as it were, with Salinger and legitimately comprehend the lessons he teaches, I can most assuredly say that you can learn more about yourself in this work than in any other I’ve ever been privy to.

The “dissertation,” as I will describe “Seymour; An Introduction” forthwith, is, as aforementioned, written from the perspective of Buddy Glass, the second eldest of the seven Glass children you’ll remember we discussed a few posts back, and his take on Seymour’s life about ten years after his suicide (which you can read about in “A Perfect Day for Banannafish”).  The themes move from Seymour’s divine grasp on Japanese and Chinese poetry, specifically the haiku, and the implications of that grasp, to an incredible life lesson that Seymour taught Buddy when they were 10 and 8 years old during a game of “curb marbles.”  There is also a lot of insight into the life of Seymour Glass, and the undertakings that he and Buddy enjoyed throughout their brotherhood, that can only be found in this short story.  Seymour Glass, although he is the root of all the intellectual, spiritual, literary, etc. accomplishments of all of his younger siblings (the “sage” of the family as he is described by Buddy), is always “present” in Salinger’s stories, but never physically.  Seymour’s physicality in all of the memories Buddy shares of he and Seymour’s lives together, really brings him as a real person (not literally of course, the Glass family is a fabrication of Salinger’s imagination) to life and proves his astounding primogeniture.  When, or probably more appropriately, if you read “Seymour; An Introduction” be sure to pay special attention to his approach to childhood gameplay as well as his adeptness as an intellectual in almost every facet of spirituality, Taoist Zen specifically.  Tread lightly here, this book is far too important to not make a legitimate study of, at least I certainly could not put it down until I had spent 36 straight hours with it.

Right, so we’re going to change direction a little bit here from covering classic literature to something a little more  modern.  “Less Than Zero” by Bret Easton Ellis is a publication that reads incredibly fast because of the darkly enrapturing subject matter.  It was published in 1985 and is the first literary achievement of Ellis, settling onto book shelves while he was only 21 years old and still in college.  The plot follows Clay, (who, rumor has it, is actually Ellis) as he returns to his wealthy life in Los Angeles for winter break from his school in the north-east.  Clay is severely involved in the Los Angeles drug-party scene of the early1980’s and is seen using a copious amount of narcotics, all the while meandering between one-night stands with both men and women.  Ellis is incredibly graphic and detailed in his descriptions of the situations in which Clay finds himself in, some of which are deeply disturbing and are not fit for reiteration here.  Clay’s friends from high-school, who, like him, are all the sons and daughters of the elite and powerfully wealthy of Los Angeles, have become more harrowingly involved in deeply twisted morale altercations, ranging from intravenous heroine injection to self-prostitution to support drug-habits.   One of the least squemish scenes I can reword is when Clay is forced to watch as his best friend Julien, who has descended too far to be recovered, sells himself to a middle-aged man.  This book is not for those with a weak stomach, for the subject-matter becomes more and more perverse as the story goes on.  However, I am suggesting this book to you because it is one of the most intricate and beautifully written insights into a culture that most of us will never experience.  Ellis’s use of the banals of self-destruction in the Los Angeles netherworld are requisite for the simple plight he is making; in the words of James Bond, sometimes “the world is not enough.”  The book concludes with Clay stricly considering never returning to Los Angeles due to the evolution of amoralism in his old friends and scene.  Ellis teaches a lesson here that is singularly difficult and very dark, but it is one I feel is best illustrated by Ellis’s style and the fact that he is not shy to the sinister aspects of the world.  The story reads from first person and moves fast, it is real and it is perfectly moving.

Onward, we’re continuing our study of J.D. Salinger once again this week with his collection of short stories “Nine Stories”.  This book is absolutely perfect for the not-so-enthusiastic reader that still has a twinkling interest in spending a few minutes of free time with some of the world’s best literature.  Because of the length of the stories, or lack thereof, this book is very easy to pick up, read for thirty minutes, then put down feeling content due to completion.  What I mean is that, at least personally, when I am daunted by reading something it is due to the fact that I don’t think I’ll have time to finish the story and subsequently have wasted my time, but with short stories the time element is practically erased and just the joy of knowing you completed a full work by J.D. Salinger reamins intact.  Additionally, some of Salinger’s absolute best work, in my opinion, is contained in this collection and I actually just got my own personal copy back from my girl-friend, it was her first roll in the hay with Salinger, who seemed to agree and immediately borrow another of his books from me.  I added that last sentence just to make myself a little less weepy and to sprinkle in a little justification for the maintenance of this blog.

So, Nine Stories, like the title so boldly suggests, is composed of…that’s right, nine stories.  Of the nine, the first and the last are the diamonds among rubies in my opinion.  The first story, “A Perfect Day for Bannanafish” is about Seymour Glass, the oldest sibling in the Glass family we’ve discussed in previous sessions.  I use the word “sessions” liberally.  Seymour is on vaction with his wife in the story, who has an incredibly amusing phone conversation about Seymour with her mother that kind of shines a light of one of Salinger’s most intersting, but least physical characters.  I can’t really tell you too much about this story because if you do actually read it I will have ruined the whole philosophical point that Salinger is trying to make by what happens at the end.  Ah, that’s right, you have to read it TO THE END to really get it.  But I will include the scene with from the elevator, where Seymour has just gotten back from the beach and is riding up to his hotel room, just for a little taste.  Seymour gets onto this elevator right and this lady is in there with him along with the elevator operator and Seymour notices that she is looking at his feet, so he says “I see you’re looking at my feet.”  The lady is taken aback and begs Seymour’s pardon so Seymour repeats then states, “If you want to look at my feet you just have to ask.  You don’t have to be such a dirty sneak about it.”  That still makes me grin way too much.

The last story I mentioned as my favorite is “Teddy,” which is another that you just have to read to get the point.  Stay focused on what Teddy, the little kid genius that falls right in to most of Salinger’s character sketches, says about the orange peels.  Its brilliant, but exactly.  “Teddy” is also incredibly interesting existentially, really. 

All Nine Stories:

“A Perfect Day for Bananafish”

“Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut”

“After the War with the Eskimos”

“The Laughing Man”-This one has one the most entertaining stories within a story within a collection of short stories I’ve read.

“Down at the Dinghy”

“For Esme-with Love and Squalor”

“Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes”

“De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period”

“Teddy”

Right, so to continue down this metaphorical yellow-brick road, you can add your own accomplices (they don’t have to be the cowardly lion, a scarecrow or a tin man), of exploring authors and their works J.D. Salinger is still our focus this week.  The Catcher in the Rye is the selection of his literature that I’ll be mumbling about, probably his most well-known work.  In fact, this book seems to fall into required reading for most high school students, which speaks to the ingenuity of the lesson it teaches if you listen hard enough.

Gladly I was not prescribed The Catcher in the Rye while in high-school, but I think this was for good reason because I certainly could not have wrapped my head around the phosphorescent concepts.  I borrowed The Cather in the Rye from the UTA library the summer I moved to Arlington in August 2008, and it was the absolute perfect book for my mind at the time.  I’d just moved from Georgia and did not know a soul in Arlington which made the reading all the more comprehensible and un-interupted.

The main character, Holden Caufield, is a foul-mouth, cynical boy of 16 who can’t seem to keep himself in a constant state of enrollment, subsequently he’s being kicked out of his third school in a row, due to an understandable lack of interest in the subject matter being taught at these different educational institutions.  The plot of Caufield’s search for his inner self is fueled by an unorthodox amount cigarettes and curse words, the commentary is hilariously shaking and Salinger’s craftsmanship as a storyteller paints a cinematic vision comparable to watching Leonardo DiVinci paint a story for you as a caveman across some limestone enclave.  The history also seems to surround you and put you right in the streets 1950s New York.

Reading this book is a must.

Okay, so this book by J.D. Salinger is one of my absolute favorites of all time.  As strange as it may seem, I consider this combination of the two short stories “Franny” and “Zooey” as the most profound metaphor for religion as it should be to date.  In fact, I can confidently, and perhaps with a little sacrilege say that I have read this book for the same reason people read the Bible, in the same manner they read the Bible. What I mean is that if I’m feeling a little awkward, and I’m stumbling a little more than usual when I walk I can infallibly read a passage in Franny and Zooey and once again regain my balance.

After I read this book, the first of Salinger’s for me, I promptly relished in all of his published work I could find until I completed every last phrase.  I found in Salinger’s writing a voice I had been looking for and could only compare in poignance to Hemingway really.  However, if you attempt any Salinger reading on your own (please don’t be frightened) there is some background on his characters that you will need to know in order for everything to align itself properly.

Salinger’s primary focus in his literature is the Glass family, which he made up, and of which consists a mother and father and their seven genius children, of which I use the word “genius” in the most literal since of having highly accelerated mental facilities.  I’ve politely stolen this Glass Family Chronology from Wikipedia because of how well they describe everyone:

The Glass family, from eldest to youngest:

• Les and Bessie Glass (née Gallagher): Retired vaudeville performers. Les is Jewish, and is in the entertainment business. He is not mentioned often in the stories, but is criticized by Seymour in “Hapworth 16, 1924.” Bessie, the matriarch, is Irish, and is characterized as consistently worried about the fact her children are talented yet largely unable to assimilate into society. They are the parents of the seven children:
• Seymour Glass (February 1917 – March 18, 1948): The eldest, Seymour is featured in Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction and Franny and Zooey. He is the author of the letter that comprises “Hapworth 16, 1924″ and is the main character in “A Perfect Day for Bananafish.” Seymour was a spiritual savant and brilliant intellectual, and became a professor at Columbia at 20. Along with his siblings he was a regular star on the radio program It’s a Wise Child. He fought in the European Theatre of World War II, and was deeply scarred by the experience. In 1941 he attempts suicide by slitting his wrists, but fails, as described in Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters. He elopes with Muriel Fedder on June 4, 1942. In “A Perfect Day for Bananafish,” he commits suicide while the couple are on a second honeymoon in Florida. Muriel is asleep on the bed beside him at the time.
• Webb Gallagher “Buddy” Glass (born 1919): The protagonist in Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction, and the narrator of Franny and Zooey. It is revealed in the latter that he wrote at least two stories collected in Nine Stories: “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” and “Teddy.” It is also suggested in Seymour that he wrote The Catcher in the Rye. Buddy is often considered to be Salinger’s alter ego. He lives in upstate New York and teaches English at a rural women’s college. He also volunteers his time to instruct some of the faculty of his college in Mahayana Buddhism. Buddy and Seymour were only two years apart, spent most of their youths living together, and were very close before Seymour’s suicide in 1948. Buddy narrates most of the Glass stories.
• Beatrice “Boo Boo” Glass Tannenbaum (born 1920): Married, mother of three children, appears centrally in “Down at the Dinghy,” is mentioned in “Hapworth 16, 1924,” and is often referenced in Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters as the “seafaring” sibling currently occupying the New York apartment where much of the story’s action takes place. She “modestly prefers to be referred to as a Tuckahoe homemaker.”
• Walter “Walt” Glass (1921 – 1945): The twin brother of Waker Glass. He was an American soldier who died in Occupied Japan in late Fall of 1945, at the age of 22, when a stove he was packaging exploded, an event that Buddy Glass refuses to address. Walt is described by his girlfriend in “Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut.” He was also described in “Franny and Zooey” as being the only truly “lighthearted” son in the family.
• Waker Glass (born 1921): The twin brother, born twelve minutes after Walter. A Roman Catholic monk of the Carthusian order. Little is known about Waker, because, though he is mentioned in many of the stories, none have been written specifically about him.
• Zachary Martin “Zooey” Glass (born 1929): Title character of Zooey, in which he is 25 years old. He is an actor, and (according to Buddy) the most attractive of all the children. Buddy also says that of the family members, Zooey and himself were “too clever” for their own good. Boo Boo describes Zooey as “the blue-eyed Jewish-Irish Mohican scout who died in your arms at the roulette table at Monte Carlo.” He is portrayed as being rather arrogant and particularly insensitive to his mother, Bessie, frequently swearing at her and calling her “fatty.” He is misanthropic, which he attributes to Seymour and Buddy’s imposition of their college-age infatuation with Eastern mysticism on him and Franny as children.
• Frances “Franny” Glass (born 1934): The title character of Franny, in which she is a 20 year old college student and actress. In Franny and Zooey, she is depicted reading The Way of a Pilgrim, an anonymous Orthodox Christian classic, which contributes to her spiritual and emotional breakdown.

The children are all precocious, and have all appeared on a fictional radio quiz show called It’s a Wise Child, which has, according to the stories, sent all seven Glass children through college. From 1927 to 1943, at least one of the children appeared on the show, beginning with Seymour and Buddy. It is mentioned in Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters that each child appeared on the show under a pseudonym.

The Glass family lives in New York City; all the children spent most of their childhood in an apartment on the Upper East Side.

For those of you unfortunate enough to have to sift through my “This I Believe” essay, you will know that this Hermann Hesse novella is very close to my spirit.  But let’s get down to the brass tacks and analyze the thing.

If you have no prior knowledge of Buddhism, or more commonly no interest in Buddhism, then you may lost at first as to what the point of reading this certain book would be.  Don’t let religious affiliations distract you from the general message that Hesse is trying to present to you.  He merely utililizes the Buddhist religion as a simple medium to enlighten you to the simple, but singularly profound idea of listening to “the river”.

But wait a minute, to find out about the “river,” the necessity of walking with Siddhartha through his different stages of life  is of the utmost importance.  If you don’t understand that Siddhartha had to experience the many variations of life before he became “enlightened,” we’ll call this the slow-rolling ecstasy of the primary story of the novel, then the absolute climax of realizing what the river is about will not electrify you like it should.

Siddhartha starts his journey by leaving his home, his father a Brahmin, to become an ascetic along with his companion, really a sidekick Govinda.  After spending a few years in the woods practicing yoga, fasting, and trying to dissolve the idea of a “self”, which Siddhartha eventually masters, he and Govinda decide to make a pilgrimage to see the Guatama Buddha.  Siddhartha respects, but is dissapointed in what the Guatama Buddha teaches him, but Govinda is not so they part ways and Siddhartha rambles into a village and falls in love with Kamala.  He finds love with Kamala and also indulges in the carnal pleasures of becoming a rich merchant, a gambler, and finally a drunk.  But hey, don’t lose faith in Siddhartha yet.

Here’s the guts, you know the vital organs that keep you from keeling over as it were.  Siddhartha eventually leaves his life in the village with Kamala and wanders back into the woods where he has some kind of nervous break down next to the river and regains consciousness only to find his old friend Govinda watching over him.  They don’t recognize each other at first, but eventually they do and Govinda is dissapointed in Siddhartha for indulging in worldly pleasures.  Salvation reaches Siddhartha, however, when he becomes the pupil of Vasudeva, the enlightened ferry-man who teaches Siddhartha to listen to the many voices of the river.  It is as a simple ferryman that Siddhartha lives out the rest of his life, with Vasudeva eventually wondering off into the woods to leave Siddhartha to mind the operation on his own when Siddhartha finally ascertains his own aescetism.

There are many other pretty allusions and metaphors in this incredible novel, but I have to leave you something to chew on yourself don’t I?