CBR5 #6: Role Models by John Waters

(I've been really out of the blogging game this year. Not sure why, but I just WAS NOT FEELING IT. I've been reading at my usual pace, but the effort needed to get online and write up a blog and then copy it to the other blog and blah blah blah was not making the top of my priority list. So I thought "Well, that's it for book blogging, I guess." Then one day, I discovered that as I was finishing books, I was feeling inspired to add a little review blurb over at Goodreads (where I diligently keep track of all my book activities). Nothing major or in-depth, but just a little something to let people know what I thought. As time went on, I thought "Maybe I could copy these little blurbs on my blog? They're obviously not great criticism, but they're SOMETHING at least." So that's what I'm doing. Take it or leave it, people.)

I find John Waters totally adorable. His gleeful enthusiasm for all things tacky, crude, and macabre makes me think that we would probably get along famously. Role Models is a series of essays, loosely gathered under the theme of "role models" but it's mostly musings on his twisted way of seeing the world. Whether it's a heartfelt explanation of his friendship with former Manson girl Leslie Van Houten or an in-depth investigation of the lives of underground gay porn filmmakers, Waters brings a boundless curiosity and a certain amount of sweet affection to all his subjects. He's unapologetic about his own quirks and flaws, which makes him very understanding of the neuroses of others (unless they don't read, in which case, "don't fuck them").

Although a few of his essays can seem a bit endless (the one about his favorite clothing designer reads a bit like the chapter of American Psycho when Patrick Bateman describes in detail each item of clothing and skin care product he owns) most were glorious little blobs of cheerful crudity and giggling chaos. It's not for everyone, but if you love his movies, you'll probably love his books too.

CBR4 #38: Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manfesto by Chuck Klosterman

I suspect that Chuck Klosterman (much like fellow Chuck, Palahniuk) is one of those authors that you either love or hate. Either you love him--because the thoughts that he's writing down mesh perfectly with the things that you have already been thinking, and the conversations he's having are things that you either already discuss or wish you could, and the connections he's making are connections you've either already made or at least understand completely--or you hate him--you find him a whiny first-world hipster who wastes entirely too much time thinking about 90s sitcoms, soft rock, and Axl Rose.

I fall into the first category.

People have been recommending Klosterman to me off and on for years, but somehow I never got around to reading him before. (Sometimes, when a whole bunch of people recommend a book and tell me "Oh, this is SO YOU!" I find that reading the book turns out to be a disappointing experience which just makes me think my friends don't know me very well.) It turns out that he's exactly what I've been looking for in the "non-fiction essay" genre. I mean, I like David Foster Wallace, but he can frankly be a bit heavy for me. Klosterman, on the other hand, is definitely fluff...but well-written, INTERESTING fluff.

The essays in this book run the gamut through pop culture. My particular favorites included his take on how a comparison between Marilyn Monroe and Pamela Anderson is not only apt, but a reflection of the way society has changed since the 1950s, how you are either a Celtics person or a Lakers person and why this influences your world view, and the one documenting his travels with a Guns n' Roses cover band. I found the writing to be both funny and intelligent, and his wide grasp of both pop-culture and general culture remarkable.

To sum up, Chuck Klosterman is like the friend I've always wanted but never had--a sharp, witty misanthrope willing to spend hours eating cereal and discussing the cultural ramifications of Saved By the Bell. As a person who once wrote a paper comparing Hester Prynne and Rizzo from Grease, I can relate totally. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, best to just move on to something else.

Cannonball Read #1: Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell

Greetings!

I have decided (since my life has become a stagnant spiral of crime shows and bad VH1 reality television) to attempt this. I feel like perhaps if I were reading more books, my brain would stop feeling quite so mushy and I might be able to pronounce entire coherent sentences or keep a thought in my head for more than 30 seconds. It's worth a shot, anyway.

For my first book, I read Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell. I'd been hearing about her work from various trusted sources for a while (while I do not personally listen to NPR because it makes me sleepy, I have some very intelligent and cultured insomniac friends who do) so I decided to give her a spin, although I am not always fond of essayists. And oh, what a spin it was.

The basic premise of Assassination Vacation is that Vowell is a militant history buff who is particularly attracted to locations and memorabilia related to presidential assassinations, specifically Lincoln, Arthur, and McKinley. This immediately struck a chord with me because as a child, I was totally OBSESSED with the Lincoln assassination for years. (Sidenote: In retrospect, I was a rather disturbingly morbid but strangely focused child. I would become fixated on some icky event/era in history--civil war prison camps, the Holocaust, the Lincoln assassination, Benedict Arnold, the black plague, serial killers--and then read everything I could get my hands on about the subject until my interest waned. I suppose my parents figured an interest in disturbing history was better than no interest at all.) I actually dragged my parents to some of the locations Vowell drags her bemused family and friends, so I knew more intimately than most what she was talking about. I too have sweated through the narrow hallways of "The House Where Lincoln Died." It immediately made me feel a certain kinship with the author, since she too knew the strange looks one receives after insisting that you just HAVE to go seek out an out of the way, dusty museum room because they have LINCOLN SKULL PIECES!

The book is divided into three sections (Lincoln, Arthur, McKinley) and deals with the idea of obsession, of minutiae, and of how current popular culture both entwines and crashes up against the past. Vowell has obviously done an amazing amount of research and easily weaves together her journey to find the facts and the facts themselves. She has a strong voice--she is upfront with her intense nerdiness, truthful about how much joy she gets out of history. That "historic" joy is contagious--as soon as I finished this I wanted to run out find a plaque to read somewhere. It's also a very informative book--I mean, how much do YOU really know about William McKinley?--but her humorous tone keeps the reader from getting totally bogged down in fact after fact, which in a format like this is certainly possible. I enjoyed Vowell's winding tangents, although if you're a person who is bothered by tangents I'd recommend you skip right by this book.

On the whole, this was both entertaining and informative, and I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys humor and history.