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By Bryan, March 1, 2010

Man In the High Castle
By Philip K Dick

Blade Runner (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?)
By Philip K. Dick

With the success of his recent novel Chronic City Jonathan Lethem seems everywhere these days. A huge influence on Lethem was novelist Philip K. Dick. Lethem edited Library of America’s  Dick reissues which became the best selling titles in the popular imprint .  It is a good time to find out what the fuss is all about and check out where Lethem got a lot of his inspiration. I want to talk about audio versions of two of Philip K. Dick’s most well known novels Man in the High Castle and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. The latter being the basis for the film Blade Runner.

Man in the High Castle is set in a speculative future where the Axis powers have won World War II and the USA has been divvied up by her enemies. Japan occupies the West coast and Germany occupies the East. Set within the occupied Pacific states, the novel presents a cross section of the post war population: a high level Japanese bureaucrat with a taste for American antiques;  an antique dealer who tries hard to please his Japanese rulers; a working class counterfeiter of said antiques; and the counterfeiter’s ex-wife who lives off the grid in the small  rocky mountains towns. Through hints from a metafictional novel within the novel and use the Chinese I Ching oracle all the characters have slow revelations about not only the veracity of the antiques, but reality itself. By the end some characters can’t deny there must be another world where the Allies have won the war. It’s a complex book that will have you thinking until your brain sprouts new wrinkles.

It is also a short book and Dick packs far too much conceptual content inside such a meager page count (or disc count as the case may be). I’ve only listed about half the characters and ignored a number of subplots. None of the characters are really developed fully, and subtle philosophically ideas fly at you like tennis balls shot from a machine. It’s hard to keep up.

If ever there was a book that did not lend itself to audio version said book is Man in the High Castle. The reader Tom Weiner does his best, but really the material he has to work with is raw. Especially awkward is his rendition of Robert Childan, the conflicted antique dealer, who is constantly second guessing the social implications of his every action in the stilted phrasing of someone thinking to himself in a second language. Credit to Weiner to for capturing Childan’s false consciousness though.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is a seemingly more straight forward affair. Weary, working class bounty hunter Rick Deckard must “retire” six Nexus One androids. He must do this because his electric sheep has ceased to function. He needs a load of cash to buy a real life animal to cure his wife’s depression and restore their place in the social hierarchy of their run down apartment complex. What we get is a hardboiled detective story that also causes us to question the role of television and religion in our lives, not to mention what we are willing to sacrifice or deny to remain happy, to ensure those we love remain happy.

What makes a good spouse? What makes a good lover? Deckard himself might be an android. God might be an android. If yourself and God and the lead character in the book you’re reading all androids what’s the difference between an android and a human?  What separates us from animals? What separates us from God? What separates us from… each other. This is a profound novel. It contains the best pitch for owning a pet goat I’ve ever heard.

Despite that characterization the plot is straight forward. Deckard goes after his androids one by one. Its a harrowing adventure that makes him question himself in very literal ways. The reader is forced to ask themselves the same questions. Having a single narrator lets us identify with Deckard more and it lets Dick flesh out the character far more than any of the cast of Man in High Castle. There is a moment in most Dick novels when reality falls apart. By making Deckard so real (forgive the pun), when this moment hits it is all the more effective. Similar moments in High Castle fall flat.

The book’s emotional resonance is helped by a tremendous reading by Scott Brick. Brick is kind  of the Matt Damon of American audiobook readers. He nails the haggard, arguably misguided, Deckard perfectly.  Brick’s Deckard is far more fragile than the Marlboro man portrayed by Harrison Ford in Ridley Scott’s film. Also spot on is Brick’s interpretation of the “special” J.R. Isidore, a man so lonely he’ll let himself he used by heartless robots just for a wee bit of friendship, or something like friendship. Brick  has narrated hundreds of novels and when asked what his favorite was he responded Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?.

It is strange a book as disjointed and uneven as Man in the High Castle won the Hugo Award in 1963. Even then an alternative history novel in which Nazis win WWII was old hat. It was Dick’s epistemological acid hit that blew readers minds. Written four years later, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is a far better read. I often wondered if Do Androids Dream was so popular because of its association with Blade Runner. Now I know it is one of Philip K. Dick’s best books. I highly recommend it in print form and CD read by Scott Brick. Man is High Castle is intellectually stimulating enough to check out, but I only recommend the CD version owned by the library to hardcore Dick fans.

- Bryan

[Editor's note: since the release of the film Blade Runner most editions of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? have been published using both titles printer on the cover, as does the version reviewed by Bryan. Searching the library catalog for either Blade Runner or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? will retrieve the audio book.]

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By Bryan, January 4, 2010

Home
By Marilynne Robinson

Home was only the third novel by Marilyn Robinson in thirty years. It was definitely worth the wait. Home chronicles the return of prodigal son Jack Boughton to the family farm in Gilead, Iowa. His aged father Robert, and Glory, Jack’s baby sister, now middle aged, anxiously await Jack’s return after twenty years of non-communication. Glory, a former school teacher, who by chance or unconscious design has slowly crashed back to Gilead to care for her fading father. That father, the Reverend Robert Boughton, spiritual lighthouse to the town of Gilead for much of his life, is now a wisp of his former self. He clings to life in the small hope he will once again meet  his estranged son. The Lord giveth; Jack returns.

Polite but unrepentant of his past transgressions, Jack torments his father by simply being himself, the black sheep of the family, also a drunk, and maybe a coward. Glory accepts Jack wholeheartedly, hardened liver and all, while the Reverend Boughton becomes tortured by his life’s one failure: his anti-social communist sympathizing son.

In case you are thinking you’ve heard this one before, you’ve never heard it by a writer as talented as Marilynne Robinson. In her hands the sleepy Boughton household becomes a boiler engine of psycho-spiritual pressure. The tension between father and son permeates the house like sunlight. Fate, sin, free will, and the capital “eff” Fall, are all weapons in the psychic warfare. Robinson illuminates both the positive and the negative nature of piety with clear effortless prose. If you are afraid this is just a book about a bunch of churchies in need of a little grease, all the characters have secrets and there is a surprise ending. The reader, and author, always know that rural Iowa in the late 50s is a serious bubble, outside of which are horrors that don’t permit the luxury of theological angst.

Literati may recognize the Boughtons and the town the Gilead as it gave the title to Robinson’s previous novel which earned her a Pulitzer Prize. Gilead and Home are companion pieces that take place in the same town at the same time but inside different households. I can’t recommend both novels strongly enough. On a personal note, Home is the last book I will get to read with the 2nd Wednesday Book Club, a reading group I’ve led here at the library for the past two years. To all my book club members, I thank you, and apologize for all the pretentious literary crap I’ve convinced  you to read. Though it is sad to have to move on, I am happy the last book we read together was one as powerful and meaningful to me as Home.

- Bryan

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By Bryan, June 15, 2009

Lost Objects
By Bang On A Can

4 stars

What would a collaboration between an avant-garde compositional collective, a purist Baroque chamber ensemble, and one the world’s most famous DJs sound like? It sounds awesome to me. I’m speaking now of Bang on Can’s Lost Objects. Bang on a Can are a collective of composer-performers conceived by Michael Gordon, Julia Wolfe and David Lang. Bang on a Can & friends have reinterpreted much of the forward thinking classical and popular canon, on record or on stage during their eponymous Bang on a Can festival. For Lost Objects they recruited Deborah Artman to write a libretto concerning all things lost. Each section features a different lost item: lost socks, lost species, lost modes of communication (e.g., extinct languages, passenger pigeons and Morse code), lost children, and the loss of animal sacrifice in religious rituals. Vocal duties are performed by the RIAS Chamber Choir, one Berlin’s most highly regarded troupes. Bang on a Can enlisted Baroque ensemble Concerto Koln to provide instrumentation. Concerto Koln only use period specific instruments with are tuned to a lower pitch but provide a wider array of timbres. Rounding out this motley crue are the members of Bang on a Can & friends who play the accoutrements of popular music: drums, electric guitars, and keyboards. Between thematic sections DJ Spooky provides remixes of the tracks you’ve just heard. The results are minimalist, but not academic. Big clear melodies soar, and simple militaristic percussion drives it all home. What really makes Lost Objects are the rock touches: the staccato guitar and the short length of pieces. The brevity of the entire composition saves it from the doldrums where most oratorios go to die, and short length of individual sections suits Bang on Can’s minimalist approach. The melodic statements do not lose their energy or crumble under the emotional weight of libretto. Lost Objects is a rare example of postmodern art music which is listenable and emotionally engaging without pandering to folkisms.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

The Voyage of the Short Serpent
By Du Bucheron, Bernard; Velmans, Hester

This strange novella is not for the weak of heart. Set during the darkest of the dark ages, Voyage of the Short Serpent follows a Norwegian Bishop sent to the frozen wastes Greenland to reestablish Christianity (not to mention reinstate a tithe) on a colony which may or may not still exist. Equal parts historical realism and black comedy, Boucheron reveals the structural hypocrisy of the medieval church by mimicking the writing style of period. There are a lot of lists of polar horrors, many of which are laugh out loud funny. Considering Boucheron presents a dead on historical snapshot of medieval Scandinavia, flawlessly apes the literary diction of the era, and still manages to sustain a streak of rich satire throughout, it is no wonder the French Academy awarded Voyage of the Short Serpent its Grand Prix in 2004.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

The Long Dry
By Jones, Cynan

The Long Dry is an accurate rendering of the intrinsic beauty and mysticism country life. There is tragedy, but all life is tragic whether of the urban or rural variety. The rural Welsh setting just makes me like this book more. Following one day in the life of a coastal family farm, we learn the joys, secrets and conflicting motivations of each family member. Jones keenly subverts Welsh mystical stereotypes by letting the chronologically disjunctive central tragedy reverberate through the present tense of the characters, creating an atmosphere of intense sadness which borders on piety. There are no wizards and faeries but there is pain and a stoic resolution which substitutes for understanding.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

The Human Stain
By Roth, Philip

I had never read Philip Roth before but considering his reputation I had high hopes when my book club decided to read The Human Stain. On the surface the novel is an indictment of political correctness, but as we read on we discover the true subject matter of the book is how secrets shape our psyches.

Each of the four main characters has a secret which has shaped the entirety of their adult lives. Roth examines the rich interior lives of each of the quartet. These portraits are as vivid and engaging in themselves as the plot which showcases volatile results of when such psychically potent lives mix. If you missed this one when it first came out a few years back, now’s your chance to read what will surely come to be considered one of Roth’s best.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

A Glastonbury Romance
By Powys, John Cowper

Debate simmers as to whether Powys was a genius or a gasbag. I’m voting the former. Tragically he remains under read despite a scrumptious hardcover reprint campaign by Overlook Press a few years back. His contemporary Grail epic A Glastonbury Romance remains his most recognizable work. Superficially a retelling of the Grail legend set in modern day Glastonbury, the novel’s themes are so varied, its cast so vast, it transcends the schlocky King Arthur associations and represents a return to the all encompassing 19th century uber novels of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and Proust. Powys is brazen enough to tackle such themes as fate vs. free will, deism vs. revelation, youth vs. age, heck, even free markets vs. labor.

Writing while in his sixties, he’d seen nough of life not to take particularly sides on any of these matters. He dutifully elucidates them. He uses a myriad of characters’ perspectives to meld a kaleidoscopic omniscience by expounding each character’s inner world in high literary prose. My favorite is the sadomasochistic Welsh antiquarian Mr. Evans, a character unabashedly based on Powys himself. Powys’ verbosity and over-top-characterizations make him a bit too much for some readers. Given the right mood his ornate style can be a refreshing break from the realism (i.e. blandness) of most contemporary prose.

If you are looking for arduous but rewarding literary mountain to climb, I highly recommend A Glastonbury Romance.

- Bryan

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By Bryan, June 8, 2009

Louis Riel: A Comic-Strip Biography
By Brown, Chester

How many of us think graphic novel when they think historical biography? Forget Doris Kearns Goodwin, if you want a slice fascinating history check out Chester Brown’s Louis Riel: A Comic Strip Biography.

Riel was a French-speaking populist leader that led an armed rebellion against the English-dominated Canadian government. Arguably pushed into role of public spokesmen, the religiously intense (perhaps insane) Riel is the most interesting person you never learned about in school. (Did you learn anything about Canadian history in school?) In contrast to the violent tumultuous subject matter, Brown’s pages are each broken into six uniform squares. By strictly adhering to the comic strip format Brown represents visually, and simultaneously comments upon, the academic distance of the historian.

Don’t let the format turn you off – this is art and reading for thinking adults. Truth is always stranger than fiction, but you’ve never seen it presented quite this way before.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

Under the Volcano
By Lowry, Malcolm

The ubiquitous blurb associated with Malcolm Lowry’s Under the Volcano is “20th century masterpiece” but I tried to ignore this. If anything it put me off. The first few chapters struck me as pretentious. Four hundred pages dedicated to one day in lives of three characters is a bit much. (James Joyce happened already thank you very much.) Typically, I’m not into books where every drag of a cigarette is a revelation, because every drag of a cigarette is NOT a revelation. But poetry makes it a revelation, and that’s why life is a garbage heap and poetry is holy. So I ask Lowry, and others like him, why not just write poetry? Why fumble with the semblance of a plot?

Occasionally, the prose is stunning. Other times, it meanders but accurately captures the nature of daydreaming and everyday subjective monologue. Why fumble with the semblance of a plot? All these logorrhea-esque excursions are umbrella-ed under a very precise, symmetrical structure. The whole book is a poem with the Cabala as a skeleton. The initial chapters are a little tough to take because this structure is not immediately apparent. Like a difficult film, the editing slowly reveals itself, and what at first is a headache, becomes a rewarding, memorable aesthetic experience. There exist seamlessly congruent symbolic layers stacked atop one another: the over-arching Cabalistic framework, the Jungian/alchemical personal relations, and the contrasting poetic interludes of the three main characters’ internal thoughts.

So what’s this bugger really about? It is about drinking yourself to death in Mexico. It’s about the world being controlled by the Demiurge. The Consul, Hugh, and Yyonne are different aspects of the same person: ALL PERSONS. I get it. Quauhnahuac is the Center of the World. I get it. Like I said, Joyce happened already, but Lowry is far more cynical, and in the end, despite my initial impressions, the novel is more than just literature for literature’s sake. Under the Volcano was supposed to be the first of a trilogy mimicking The Divine Comedy. Volcano was the Inferno installment. Lowry prophetically fulfilled the nihilistic damnation portrayed in Volcano on a personal level, and cemented his personality cult.

Some have been critical of a lack of character development. It’s funny. By the end I was really in love with the Consul (who is largely based on Lowry himself). One thing he captures spot on is the feeling of just letting it all fall apart… on purpose. As I write this, I’m realizing the similarities between the lives’ and work of Lowry and Jack Kerouac. Of course, Under the Volcano crushes even my favorite Kerouac novels.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

Bloodchild: And Other Stories
By Butler, Octavia E.

Since I began working here in the Popular Materials department I’ve been searching for an example of the horror genre that would genuinely scare me, give me that thrill that hooked most horror junkies I know. I found such a thrill in Octavia Butler’s short form masterpiece Bloodchild.

The story expounds the tentative (and squirm inducing) symbiotic relationship formed between humans and a species of giant centipedes after humans have jettisoned Earth to find a new home. Some of us might be horrified by giant centipedes regardless, but what sets this story apart is that Butler simultaneously illuminates the emotional politics of all power relations: parasite / host, master / slave, parent / child, boss / employee. Bloodchild causes the reader to question why we do what we are told, what will we sacrifice for the tranquility of our children, and most importantly, what qualities make a person morally good. Prepare to have your skin crawl and question your own complicity in the structure of society.

Butler skillfully engages the reader, making us wonder what exactly is the relationship between the humans and the centipedes (I won’t give it away). Once it is revealed things really get juicy both literally and philosophically. Also included in this volume are a handful of Butler’s most acclaimed stories and personal essays. Each is accompanied by the author’s commentary as an added bonus.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

Nina Simone and Piano!
By Nina Simone, 2001

4 of 5 Stars

I’ve always loved sad songs the most.Nina Simone and Pianodumps ice water on your soul. But isn’t there something warm and fuzzy about feeling depressed? This is music for sipping scotch. If the album has a flaw, it is its one dimensionality. It is literally just Ms. Simone and a piano. Then again, are there two more expressive instruments in the universe besides Nina Simone’s voice and the pianoforte? Like I said, a rainy night and scotch.

Belladonna
By Daniel Lanois, 2005

4 of 5 Stars

Better know for being a high profile rock and country producer, Lanois’ solo work isn’t afraid to venture into more ethereal realms. Belladonna is a series of short, lush pedal steel guitar instrumentals – the sonic equivalent of watching flowers bloom. Bordering on avant-improv, sometimes the melodies slip apart. Other times, with the accompaniment of light keyboard and drums, it makes you feel like you’re in the perfect bar a little too early in the afternoon. For fans of Brian Eno and Angelo Badalamenti.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

Critical Beatdown
By Ultramagnetic MCs, 1988

4 of 5 Stars

Most of the tracks being cut by Ced Gee, an unheralded member of the highly influential Boogie Down Productions, Critical Beatdown is a vibrant slice new school hip hop. It is the first record to feature Kool Keith, one of my all time favorite MCs. Keith is maniac. Recorded at a time when hip hop just beginning to split off into ideologically conflicted directions, the rhymes are equal parts gansta and backpacker. Nothing explodes like an unhinged MC going off over a simple but wicked funky breakbeat. This isn’t music for earbuds. This is music to fill the room.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

Load Blown
By Black Dice, 2007

5 of 5 Stars

Load Blown weaves a psychedelic tapestry of resonant timbres. Creating most of their sounds with microphones ran through guitar effects pedals, these once fierce noise terrorists have evolved a mature intricate style. Each element equally serves a melodic and rhythmic function. (Indeed, their drummer quit two albums ago). By adding and subtracting richly textured sonic events, structures materialize only to dissolve and reoccur via permutation. This playful boundary jumping between structure and chaos is usually reserved for the best free jazz or IDM. Abstract, but brightly colorful, Black Dice are a magenta-tinted mackerel sky on the far horizon of music.

- Bryan

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By Bryan,

Fun House
By The Stooges, 1970

5 stars

It can take years before you understand a classic. I’d given The Stooges’ Fun House multiple spins in the past only to be left scratching my head. This time around, for whatever reason, the deities of rock-n-roll rang my bell, and for the first time I got Fun House, or should I say Fun House got me. Iggy Pop’s yelping mixed the Asheton brothers’ sludge pit of a rhythm section is the only punk rock you’ll ever need to know. The repeative slogging pushes the boundries between rock music and noise. Indeed, The Stooges are the living embodiment of critics’ fears about rock music. It would appear the cavemen have crashed the party, and it’s wildest one you’ve ever been too, the one you’ll talk about for years.

- Bryan

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By Bryan, May 24, 2009

Daniel Eatock: Imprint
By Bednarek, Nicola

Daniel Eatock’s art/work is a thing of whimsy and Zen insight. His self-designed retrospective Imprint will have you laughing out loud. A master wit and visual contextualizer, he’s a post-Warholian ninja. His designs and concepts will inspire you. His egotism should annoy you. He gave me a great idea for how to make a bed frame on the cheap. Message to any negative ninnies who are dismissive of Eatock’s work: quit your job and do what he does. He likely gets paid more and has more fun while he is doing it. You’ll never think about car batteries the same way again.

- Bryan