Nathan Larson - The Dewey Decimal System

I don't read many mystery novels. The ones that I have read have been outside the main footprint, like A Person of Interest, on which I commented in this blog. Nathan Larson's The Dewey Decimal System is way outside the box, and is great fun. It is a dystopian noir mystery set in a tottering New York City after coordinated unidentified terror attacks. Larson vividly creates the vibe of this world and the mind of the noir sort-of-hero, Dewey Decimal. He lives within a system of behaviors that he hopes will keep him sane and safe, and Larson really brings him alive. Decimal, a former soldier, works for the shady D.A. of NYC, doing odd jobs and dirty work. He runs afoul of the Eastern European mobs that dominate the city, as well as ruthless war criminals. They are playing a complex and dangerous chess game, with Decimal caught in the middle. The book does violate the classic noir code, as not everyone is dead at the end. Since a sequel was recently released, this observation is not a spoiler! Larson's writing is edgy without being overwrought, and the story moves quickly. As composer John Adams would say, it's "a short ride on a fast machine". Have some fun, get inside the head of Dewey Decimal.

Patrice Leconte: a wonderful two-fer

We recently watched two films, directed by Patrice Leconte, that are a delightful pairing. Both films have charm, grace & humor, and are perfectly cast. After a decade and a strong cup of coffee, I finally realized that their titles share a motif: "The Girl on the Bridge", 1999, and "The Man on the Train", 2002.

"The Girl" is the story of two lost souls plagued with bad luck, who discover, after some difficulty, that they have better luck together. Vanessa Paradis plays a promiscuous, devil may care 
woman and Daniel Auteuil plays a knife throwing carnie with some interesting ideas about luck and life. The young Paradis is a gap-toothed, wide-faced, not-pretty beauty, who is tailor made for this part. Auteuil perfectly brings to life the older, world weary, not quite sure of himself fast talker. They meet on a bridge in Paris when Paradis is about to jump off, and is saved by Auteuil, who needs another down-on-her-luck assistant for his act. After some success together, they part company, to their mutual regret. I have one caveats. The film opens with an odd setting, an interview of Paradis which I have always fast-forwarded through. Edit! . I would overlook this and  enjoy the rest of the film!

"The Train" also finds two people thrown together. In this case, a twinkle eyed poetry professor and a taciturn bank robber, who meet when the hood needs a room to stay in. Again, the casting is wonderful. Jean Rochefort plays the professor, who wonders if he has let too much life pass him by. He is a delight to watch. Pop singer Johnny Hallyday plays the craggy faced, mostly silent, bank robber. Yes, French pop music is horrid, but Hallyday is perfect here. The two men are great foils for one another, in demeanor and character. A scene in which Rochefort secretly tries on Hallyday's black leather jacket, and imagines himself a bank robber, is a gem. I mentioned a Richard Brautigan motif, in a recent post on Christopher Beha, which is also found in the ending(s) of "The Train". It works well. An English speaking version of the film was made in 2011, which I have not seen. Leconte's film is a treasure.

G. Willow Wilson - Alif the Unseen

Alif the Unseen wasn't quite what I expected. It is the story of an outsider Indian-Arab hacker-for-hire in a heavily censored Emirate, on the eve of it's own Arab Spring. This seemed to offer a potent mix that might lend itself to insights on spiritual and political aspects of moderate and radical Islam, and the collision with Internet technology. This is the case, to some extent. However, Alif is more likely described as a Muslim Harry Potter. It is complete with jinns, devious bad guys & secret police, innocent love interests, unlikely friendships, and a bit of Internet hacking. Wilson might have aimed Alif at young readers, so I can't say that it would be everyone's cup of tea. The book's most interesting aspect is the relationship between the structure of an ancient mystical text and a powerful new way of programming. Wilson converted to Islam while at Boston University, and moved to Cairo. There she wrote for several Western magazines, as well as the opposition weekly, Cairo Magazine. Her fiction genre before Alif was the graphic novel, often collaborating with artist M.K. Parker.

Sebastian Barry - On Canaan's Side

I recently cited Sebastian Barry as one of the greatest living writers of the English language today. I then realized that I had not posted on his books, my error. He's been long-listed and short-listed for the Man Booker Prize, but in my mind he's been short-changed. He deserved to win. This year's On Canaan's Side is vintage Barry: wonderful writing, great characters and a visceral story. It reminded me of his novel, The Secret Scripture, 2008, one of my faves of all time. Canaan is the reflections of an 89 year old woman, who fled Ireland in 1915 as a teenager with her boyfriend, on the run from the IRA. Much of the novel is the story of her hard scrabble life-in-hiding in Chicago. The most powerful passages are Barry's evocative telling of her terrors of assassins. One scene, in the Chicago Art Institute, is indelibly etched in my memory. Barry vividly evokes the heartbreaks of the Irish War of Independence, without blame or finger pointing. 

The Secret Scripture is also based on the memories of an elderly woman, entwined with the inquiries and observations of her doctor, who is trying to discover her story from long ago. This novel begins in the early 20th century, when the young woman, through no real fault of her own, runs afoul of the tough emotions and the black-and-white stances during The Troubles. It's easy to think of The Troubles in terms of Bobby Sands and the 1970-80's, but both of these stories were set 100 years ago! What a long, hard road.

Barry's writing is extraordinary. His prose is more spare than John Banville, another Irish author who I recently praised, and just as artful. I often paused and sighed at how perfectly a sentence or paragraph was turned. Like Banville, Barry never over writes. I recommend both of these novels.

John Banville - Ancient Light

Two of the best living writers of the English language today happen to be Irish: John Banville and Sebastian Barry. Banville's latest novel, Ancient Light, is the third in a loose trilogy which includes Eclipse, 2000, and Shroud, 2002. The novels share some characters, but each book easily stands on its own. The  triple-helix story and the characters in Ancient Light are compelling, but the delight to me is Banville's writing. This is not merely great word-smithing, this is high art. His prose is a gourmet meal, without ever being over written. If you love to read the written word, then you will enjoy Banville's works. Some books I read as fast as I can, but, Banville I read slowly, often re-reading paragraphs several times to savor them.

Much of the first half of the book is a retired actor's reflections on his teenage affair with the mother of a friend. I'm not that crazy about this setting, but it served as the basis for observations on a key part of all of our lives...His memories stand on very shaky footings, and it is wonderful to read his uncertainties about the scene and the events themselves. The season, time of day, the weather, people's emotions, all are often unclear or remembered in multiple ways. It's a delightful exploration of memory, especially for those of us having a similar experience with their own! The second strand of the helix is his pondering on the suicide ten years ago of his long troubled daughter. In the third, he is tapped to star in a film about a fraudulent academic, who was a key character in Shroud. Each strand is inter-woven with ease through the book. But, the real joy of this novel is Banville's art of writing. 

You might also try his Shroud and The Infinities.

SFCMF Commision - Aaron Jay Kernis

The third SFCMF commission I heard this season was written by Aaron Jay Kernis. In the Save-the-Best-For-Last tradition, this piece was extraordinary. At the pre-concert lecture, Kernis was very earnest and serious in his answers to questions from Marc Neikrug and the audience. He was always very modest. He talked about the process of composing, and the changes that have occurred in his approach over the course of his musical journey. Kernis started his answer with the words "As a young composer", stopped himself, and interjected, "I hate that phrase!" He continued by saying "As a composer in my 20's". This modesty told us so much about what a truly accomplished artist he is. In his 20s, he composed by planning the entire piece out, both mentally and in notes, including musical notation and words. Later in life he began to allow a composition to evolve and find it's own way. One approach is not better than the other, but it is an interesting topic for all of the arts. I have heard novelists speak of the same two techniques. From Kernis' examples, comments by Edward P. Jones and Michael Ondaatje come to mind. He made insightful observations about this piece, Perpetual Chaconne. First, he noted that when Marc approached him about the commission, Kernis asked that the commission be for clarinetist David Shifrin and the Orion String Quartet. The title refers to the structure of the piece which includes many repeats and internal references. He talked about how this structure has been frowned upon by academics, go Aaron! Speaking of which, he told us that the piece is largely tonal with some dissonance, which arises and recedes. I love this format in contemporary music and it works beautifully in Perpetual Chaconne. He was quite disarming as he spoke at length about the changes in his thinking on the tempi in the piece. He questioned the tempi used by both the OSQ and the Calder Quartet in La Jolla. He made minor changes and sounded pleased with both approaches.

This is a great piece of chamber music. It is complex, beautifully structured,  and has some gorgeous string passages that use the tonal/dissonance motif. This beauty comes without sentimentality, which of course gives it all the more impact. The wonderful tone of the Orion String Quartet and the superb playing of renowned clarinetist, David Shifrin, were perfect for it. The  piece was co-commissioned by La Jolla Music Society. I was able to chat with Kernis at intermission and encouraged him to seek a recording of this piece. He was accompanied by his wife and three young children, which I found delightful. I asked his son, a cellist perhaps 10 years old, how he liked his father's piece. "It's the best thing ever." I agree.

And, my thanks again to the SFCMF and their donors for all of these commissions!

SFCMF Commission - David Del Tredici

The next SFCMF commission I was able to hear this season was by David Del Tredici. First, he won everyone's hearts in the pre-concert lecture: charming, self-effacing, very articulate, modest, and funny. He was delightful. He was looking totally-NYC-high-fashion, dressed in an over-sized red jacket with sleeves rolled up, and desert boots! Steven Ovitsky introduced him as the Father of Neo-Romanticism, but what we are really talking about is, OMG, tonal music. He discussed his musical journey and how he started with the required dissonant phase, along with the 1970s academics who painfully ruled music for decades. At some point in his work, he said "I can't do this any more" and started writing...tonal music. This, of course, was scoffed at by many, since music that one would actually want to listen to was verboten.  He almost apologized for this indiscretion...but not quite. He remarked that it's harder to write tonal music, than atonal [no kidding, my comment]. He continued that tonal music will always be will be compared to other tonal composers, and put under a microscope, while atonal music won't be compared to anything. He added, "AND, in tonal music it's obvious when a note is missed or wrong." Steven Ovitsky, who is a musician, joked that missing a note wouldn't be noticed in dissonant music, and got a chuckle. Del Tredici's piece, String Quartet #2 is straight forward tonal music.  It is not remotely sentimental, nor did I find it particularly romantic, so his other music must have earned him the "neo" moniker he's received. More importantly, the piece is unabashedly tonal. It was beautifully played by the Orion String Quartet. Del Tredici can write for strings, that was clear. The piece was co-commissioned by South Mountain Concerts and dedicated to the OSQ.