Southern Bookman

A Rough Ride With George Pelecanos

I'd grown aware of George Pelecanos' work as a writer on "Treme" and "The Wire" and read one of his entertaining blogs on the New York magazine site. Pelecanos on his blog made insightful comments about movies and books, and I ran across his web site upon which he had similar interesting commentary. Aware of his reputation as the author of Washington, D.C.-based crime novels, I decided to try one of his books.

In my reading life, I've largely avoided the macho two-fisted, guns and blood genres, outside of James Lee Burke's cartoonish sagas set in South Louisiana. Outside of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, I considered the mystery area a dismal swamp. The spy novels of John LeCarre bored me, and I disdained series such as Lee Child's Jack Reacher splatterfests. A couple of Elmore Leonards were OK, but I didn't consider him as wonderful as all the accolades I'd read.

But, deciding I had been too squeamish and that Pelecanos offer literary virtues, I chose his "Hard Revolution," which takes place before and after the black riots in the nation's capital following the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968. I bought "Hard Revolution" on my Nook and found the book compulsively readable, despite a few technical glitches that all too often mar the e-reading experience.

Still, I was bothered by Pelecanos' contrived and exploitative violence. The long descriptions of the Washington riots were instructive in reminding how racially and socially polarized the country was when I was young, but the passages about the burning and looting of businesses detracted from the characters' stories. The brutish thugs seemed one-dimensional, cynically reflecting racial stereotypes. While his dialogue is a strength, Pelecanos at times hit off-key notes in his rendition of the terse, pithy crime style.

Overall, "Hard Revolution's" weaknesses outweighed its strengths. The violence gave me an unresolved sense of disgust and revulsion. I thought I would want to read a few more of Pelecanos' books, but one taste might be quite enough.

Wall Street Journal's Book Reviews a Daily Treat

An unexpected pleasure of the Wall Street Journal is the daily book review that appears on the right hand column of the opinion page, next to the newspaper's conservative columnists and Karl Rove's latest ravings.

The reviews look at more specialized and academic books than found in The New York Times. A variety of writers do the WSJ's reviews, giving broader viewpoints than the Times' predictable staffers.

On Thursday, the WSJ ran a review of "The Selected Letters of Anthony Hecht," the eminent poet who died several years ago. The review, by David Yezzi, the poet and executive editor of the New Criterion, gives a thorough summary of Hecht's personality and significant poems. Those somewhat familiar with Hecht's work will want to read his letters, and those who have not read him will want to discover his work, one of the major achievements of American poetry. Johns Hopkins published the selection of Hecht's letters, edited by Jonathan F. S. Post.

Known as a business newspaper, the WSJ is a significant cultural force with its daily reviews, excellent music and art coverage in the four-day-a-week Personal Journal and weekly culture sections Friday and Saturday.

One step back for the WSJ: It used to have one liberal columnist, but after the leaving of Thomas Frank, that concept has been abandoned. Can't the newspaper find one liberal voice to counter its conservative columns and editorials?

A New Day for Charles Dickens House

Dickens, like Shakespeare, is a towering cultural figure whose characters and stories are like friends and family in our shared consciousness. As with Lincoln, new books roll out about Dickens. Recently, I have read reviews about several Dickens studies and biographical slices, including one from former New Yorker editor and famed book editor Robert Gottlieb about Dickens' children.

I've also read several news reports about the reopening of the Dickens house in the Bloomsbury section of London after a renovation. The articles say that the museum was previously "dusty" or "shabby." Reading these accounts was quite amusing, because my wife and I visited the old Dickens house a few years ago and that was one of the highlights of our trip. Located on a quiet street of stately row houses, the place where Dickens lived with his family for several years after he first found fame was somewhat difficult to find. No sign announced its presence, and I recall that we had to knock to gain entrance. After that, we were left alone to wander on our own through the fascinating collection of Dickens artifacts. In short, the Dickens house appeared totally unaware of 21st century marketing and "branding" techniques. According to the recent articles, the museum is now as tourism-friendly as the most media-savvy theme park.

With another Christmas here, Dickens references rise once more. His "A Christmas Carol," published in 1843, remains a touchstone for the season. Wherever Christmas is heralded, Dickens' "God Bless Us, Every One" will echo.

Farewell, Larry L. King

Larry L. King, a name from my idealistic past, has died at age 83, according to a New York Times obituary. The Texas writer and creator of "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas" was once one of my favorite literary figures.

Known for his work for Harper's and other magazines, King was one of the masters of long-form journalism that reached its peak in the 1960s and early '70s. Nurtured by Harper's editor Willie Morris, King wrote self-referential essays on Texas and Southern culture and was one of the masters of the blended reporting and novelistic technique known as New Journalism. A few writers keep up the tradition today, but the great days of the craft practiced by King and others seems long past.

I despised "The Best Little Whorehouse," which for me killed King as a writer. It shows my prudishness, I suppose, but I found little in prostitution to laugh about. The production also showed all of the worst aspects of the Broadway musical, phony songs, vacuous music and dubious choreography.

Instead, I'll remember King for "The Old Man and Other Stories," one of the classics of 1960s journalism.

"Billy Lynn's Long Walk Home" Worth the Walk

Ben Fountain's "Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk's" strong finish achieves the imaginative fulfillment not attained earlier in the novel.

The book's promising narrative plan, a company of American soldiers feted at a Dallas Cowboys game for their heroism in Iraq, falls short in its execution until that Hail Mary finish scores a touchdown. The satirical views of ultra-patriotic ugly Americans with little knowledge beyond Fox News are safe and predictable. Fountain sets up a number of comic situations that he doesn't push far enough. At the end, though, he achieves a stunning vision of the conflicting forces pummeling American life. He depicts sudden bewildering violence, the worship of love, money and celebrity and the battered endurance of love, commitment and sacrifice.

In earlier sections, Fountain aims for the comic power of Joseph Heller, Norman Mailer, Hunter S. Thompson or Kurt Vonnegut without reaching their wild originality. Most of the book's events are seen through the eyes of 19-year-old soldier Billy Lynn, a Silver Star winner for a heroic action in battle captured by Fox News. Lynn, a native Texan, is an engaging character who makes a journey of self-discovery, gaining awareness of the hollowness at the center of American culture, the redemptive power of love and the true meaning of heroism. In the weakest sections of the book, Fountain uses Lynn as an unconvincing mouthpiece for long editorial-like digressions on pro football, American capitalism, politics and sensational media. The book functions best when Lynn is seen in action.

The other members of Bravo company veer close to ethnic stereotype, although a couple, such as the cynical yet caring Sgt. Dime, have depths of personality. Norm, the flamboyant Cowboys owner, appears based on the real-life Jerry Jones, a satirical portrait that hits high gear as a catalyst for the book's surprising finish.

The book sets up a possible sequel about Billy Lynn, a book I'll look forward to seeing. Fountain's "Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk, while flawed, shows promise of more fully realized novels in the future. Fountain is undoubtedly a writer to follow throughout a career.

So Many Books, So Little Wine

What was I thinking? At the library the other day, I checked out Anne Applebaum's "Iron Curtain, The Crushing of Eastern Europe, 1944-56." I'll try to read the National Book Award nominee, but thinking about the grim subject matter makes me doubt I'll persist. I'll also nibble at Mark Helprin's "Sunlight and Shadow."

Meanwhile, on the ebook Nook front, I'm making progress with Ben Fountain's "Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk," which is pretty good. A full report later. I recently finished Pete Hamill's information loaded Valentine to New York, "Downtown, My Manhattan."

So, I'm making progress on the books sitting on the virtual shelves on my Nook virtual library. After finishing a book, I enjoy sending it to my archives, an ever filling record of my reading.

50 Luminaries Tell WSJ Their Favorite Books

The Wall Street Journal in its Review section over the weekend asked 50 well-known people about their favorite books of the year.

The broad array of respondents ranged from "Downton Abbey's" Dan Stevens to Jim DeMint, Tea Party loving senator who will lead the Heritage Foundation. Stevens showed himself a witty book lover - he was a Man Booker Prize judge - while DeMint's singular selection of Marco Rubio's autobiography appeared politically motivated. Rubio's book might be great, but I suspect it doesn't rise to the level of other books discussed.

Some of the writers of books frequently mentioned, such as Hilary Mantel, author of "Bringing Up the Bodies," gave the enterprise a circular quality. With replies from CEOs to chefs, historians to novelists, I found that reading the chosen 50 was like eavesdropping on conversations at an extraordinarily bookish cocktail party. The replies also provided useful capsule summaries of books I hadn't read or even heard of, well-arming me for any parties I may attend.

The Times Literary Supplement has been publishing such an end of the year sampling for years, and the WSJ is clever to bring it to the U.S. The TLS roster is usually heavy with Oxford dons and London intellectuals, resulting in some esoteric selections. The WSJ list, supplemented by the newspaper's own selections of the 10 best fiction and nonfiction books of the year, seemed more accessible to the general reader, if such still exists.

The frequent mention of Robert Caro's "The Passage of Power" made me realize that I'd forgotten the book in my own survey of the best books of the year. The newest volume in Caro's massive biography of Lyndon Johnson tells of Johnson's lost days as vice president and his ascension to the presidency after John F. Kennedy's assassination. Caro masterfully details Johnson's transition from despised outcast to consummate leader in the aftermath of that horrible Friday in Dallas.

In fiction, I'll mention one more book I enjoyed in 2012, although it was published the year before, Jennifer Egan's "A Visit From the Goon Squad."

Marisa Silver's "Creatures" a New Yorker Classic

Nothing I like better than discovering a writer whom I didn't know before, and I made such a find with Marisa Silver's short story "Creatures," in the current New Yorker. Although I was unaware of her work, Silver has been a successful writer, publishing two novels and two short story collections. A new novel, "Mary Coin," comes out in March.

A Google search revealed that Silver before changing to fiction writing directed several movies. With the increasing dominance of visual culture, I was pleased to see that the written word had claimed such an artist.

"Creatures" displays the traditional strengths of the short story, a compelling narrative full of unexpected twists and a fusion of intertwined themes. The work artfully blends several narrative threads, all of which could stand as separate stories. Each character is well-realized and memorable. I keep thinking about the story's scenes and its array of messages.

An interview with Silver on the magazine's web page explores how she conceived the story, giving deep insights into the creative process. Writers can gain practical knowledge and inspiration from her comments.

Silver is a writer whose work I'll look forward to exploring further. "Creatures" is the standout of a fine issue, which includes Zadie Smith's reflections on Joni Mitchell, a revealing profile of the Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor and Dexter Filkins' look at disgraced Gen. Davis Petraeus, the best analysis of his career I've seen. Several of the magazine's all-star critics are also in fine form.

T.S. Eliot's Turning Point

The Sandy Springs library at times places recent acquisitions directly in the regular shelves, without a stay on the new book racks. The other day, browsing in the British literature section, I came upon Volume 3 of T.S. Eliot's letters, released only this year. Unless I missed it, the collection was never displayed in the all too skimpy new books section at the front of the library. This seems to especially occur with books on poetry and literature, so I have gotten used to hunting among the shelves of older books for new treasures such as the Eliot letters.

The letters cover 1926-27, when Eliot's first wife, Vivien, was sinking further into madness. "The Wasteland" was already a sensation, and most of Eliot's energies are devoted to editing The Criterion, a literary journal that never received wide readership. In these years, Eliot is also acquiring British citizenship and joining the Anglican church.

Many of the letters concern his editorial duties at the literary journal, which shifts from quarterly to monthly publication. In the early part of the book, he's concerned with Vivien's illness; later, after she's committed to an institution, she virtually disappears. He writes to a dizzying variety of the era's literary figures, many of them forgotten. Of interest is his friendship with the flamboyantly gay Jean Cocteau, who makes a brief early appearance, and his flirty tone with Virginia Woolf.

Vivien's letters are heartbreaking; Eliot's often dry and rigid. He himself is in poor mental health; an anecdote from Aldous Huxley mentions a pale and haunted Eliot downing six gins at lunch. Like a bad odor in the drawing room, many of the letters, especially those to close male chums, display a dismaying anti-Semitism and racism expressed with crude jests about black people.

The letters reveal a witty, cosmopolitan man who despite his problems enjoys the swirl of lunches and teas, literary gossip and frequent trips to the continent. Although the letters rarely reveal his poetic and critical principles in depth, they through his mind give a reading of the era's literary culture, with its anxieties, preoccupations and appalling prejudices.

In his role as Criterion editor, his rejection notices are direct, pungent and barbed with constructive criticism. Here's a jab from one to Allen Tate refusing some poems, "you are a little tied up in your own tail at present, but I am sure it will get straightened out in time."

Eliot's second wife, Valerie, with whom he found great happiness, was the editor of the first three volumes of the letters, along with John Haffenden. Valerie Eliot died earlier this year, with many decades of letters to come. Haffenden will likely carry on for the rest of Eliot's life through World War II, his winning the Noble Prize and his progression as a critic and playwright.

One stylistic note; the British edition of Volume 3 of Eliot's letters has a full length photo of him in a classic double-breasted suit, wearing a bowler and leaning jauntingly on an umbrella. The American edition has a sober portrait of him, perhaps taken at his office. The two photos together present two sides of the writer, one free-spirited and engaged with life's pleasures; the other brittlely serious and crippingly earnest. Both are well-represented here.

The collection shows a man journeying from the despair that brought forth "The Wasteland" to the religious serenity shown later in "The Four Quartets." That Vivien was left behind on that journey raises our sympathy, along with the realization that his self-preservation resulted from her abandonment.

Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell onstage

Playwright Sarah Ruhl has fashioned a play from the letters of Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop. The production, given a mixed review by The New York Times' Charles Isherwood, is playing at the Yale Repertory Theater in New Haven.

The play for some reason is titled "Dear Elizabeth" rather than "Dear Elizabeth; Dear Cal," or "Dear Cal." The one-sided title perhaps reflects the rise in Bishop's reputation as a poet and Lowell's decline since their deaths. The letters were collected in a 2008 book, "Words in Air."

The performances by Mary Beth Foster as Bishop and Jefferson Mays as Lowell sound flawed. Throwing them together on stage would be difficult; each of them would make for intriguing one-person performances.