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Showing posts with label Catcher in the Rye. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Catcher in the Rye. Show all posts

Friday, April 1, 2016

'In Cold Blood' Without Even Blinkin'

In Cold BloodIn Cold Blood by Truman Capote

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Tru, Nelle, and I Have a Bonding Moment

If you were to see me on the street, you’d see the semblance of a typical person who is not obsessed with 20th century American literature. This impression would be false. I’m utterly fascinated with Nelle Harper Lee and Truman Capote. Go Set a Watchman only aroused my appetite without bedding her down again. Watching the late, brilliant Philip Seymous Hoffman in Capote made it much worse.

I decided it was a shame there wasn’t more Harper Lee to read…such as her unfinished Alabama project, for example. Then I decided the closest thing to reading another Harper Lee novel was to “read” In Cold Blood, so I borrowed the audio book from the library.


The Clutters Were Genuinely Lovely People

I did fear the true story of four gruesome murders would be distressing. I had already seen Capote, though, and I found Truman Capote’s writing style to be beautiful and gentle, easing the reader into the harrowing story. It’s helpful to know that while Perry Smith and Richard (Dick) Hickok are central to the story, and I certainly wouldn’t want to romanticize them, there are a number of sympathetic people, or “characters,” in Capote’s presentation of his and Lee’s research. The Clutters themselves were genuinely good people.

According to the Wikipedia entry on In Cold Blood, some people who knew the Clutters didn’t think Capote’s portrayals of them were entirely accurate. They argued, for example, that he exaggerated the extent of Bonnie Clutter’s mental health problems. She’s still portrayed as a decent and loving person, despite her allegedly poor health. Perhaps part of the problem was that in the 1960s, and perhaps especially in more rural areas like Western Kansas, people were still apt to judge mental health illnesses as character flaws rather than psychological conditions analogous to physical health conditions.

That is to say, Mrs. Clutter wasn’t a bad person if she was struggling with clinical depression. Having depression isn’t voluntary, any more than Perry Smith’s childhood bed-wetting was voluntary. He didn’t deserve to be beaten for it, and Mrs. Clutter doesn’t deserve to be looked down upon whether she had a depressive illness or not.

All four of the Clutters who were in the household on November 15, 1959 were lovely people. For me, the two most interesting and personable ones were Herb and Nancy, the father and daughter. Nancy was a vibrant, intelligent, extraordinarily kind and accomplished 16-year-old.

Nancy Clutter and her friend Susan Kidwell dreamed of studying art at Kansas State University. This detail makes Nancy seem especially real and contemporary to me, since I have been to the art museum at Kansas State. If she had lived, her art might have resided there.

Kansas Bureau of Investigations investigator Alvin Dewey and his family are also sympathetic characters. In Capote, Mr. Dewey is played by the great character actor Chris Cooper. You may remember him from such films as A Time to Kill (based on the John Grisham novel), American Beauty (he kissed, and then murdered, Kevin Spacey’s character), and more recently the miniseries adaptation of Stephen King’s 11.22.63 (which I will blog about another day). His character comes off as a bit gruff, but in the novel, Alvin Dewey is a multifaceted man who’s actually quite human and likable.


The Smith Family

Perry's sister Barbara (“Bobo”) Johnson (“Mrs. Fred Johnson”) is good people. I hope her children had/have happy lives. Willie J (Perry’s fellow prisoner, a thief)’s response to Barbara's letter, quoted in its entirety, is condescending and possibly sexist. He looks down on Barbara because she's "just a housewife and mother." Her letter to Perry is actually both sympathetic and wise. That her primary occupation was raising three children should not be seen as a negative.

Their family history is fascinating and sad. John (“Tex”) and Florence Smith were the stars of an old-fashioned Wild West show. He was a red-haired Irish-American and she was Native American. She was a rodeo horseback rider, but her talent was eventually overshadowed by her alcoholism. The family lived a nomadic life before the couple split, and after the divorce Perry spent time in a group home run by Catholic nuns, where he was physically and emotionally abused. Neither parent seemed able to care for him properly.

The Smiths had four children, two boys and two girls. The older son, named Tex Jr. but later calling himself Jimmy, committed suicide after finding his wife dead in their bed, also a suicide victim. Perry’s sister Fern inherited her mother’s alcoholism and died by falling from a window, either by drunken accident or by suicide. The instability and suicide in the family cause me to suspect, in my unprofessional opinion, that bipolar disorder may have run in the Smith family. Perry showed signs of having bipolar disorder, possibly with psychotic features.

In addition to Herb, Nancy, Barbara, and Alvin Dewey, one of the more likable beings in this book is the Deweys' cat. First he defeated a cocker spaniel in dubious battle on the plains of Kansas, and then he hopped up on Mrs. Dewey's fancy buffet and helped himself to the crab meat. You go, kitty.


American Literature Allusions

The sheet music on the family's piano was "Comin' Thro' the Rye," the Robert Burns favorite and the titular allusion of 'The Catcher in the Rye.' It’s just an unfortunate synchronicity*, no doubt, but as we explored in a Banned Books Week post, Catcher in the Rye often seems to pop up around infamous crimes.

Other references to American literature have included Nancy's school play performance as Becky Thatcher, and Dick and Perry's duets of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"—the titular allusion of The Grapes of Wrath.

*That which we call synchronicity is often, instead, a type of cognitive error in logic called a Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, as I learned from this Fangs, Wands and Fairy Dust post.

Word Nerd

I never heard the term voir dire before and had to look it up. Ultimately derived from the Latin term for “tell the truth,” it describes the process by which potential jurors are vetted by the prosecution and the defense.


Hickok and Smith

An abusive childhood and possible bipolar disorder didn’t in and of themselves make Perry Smith a bad person, but according to some accounts, he was the one who shot all four of the Clutters and the one who cut Herb’s throat. (It’s a bit confusing because the investigators thought, based on the varying temperatures of the bodies, that Herb had been killed last, but Perry’s story was that Herb was killed first.) Clearly, though, Dick Hickok planned the crime, including murdering all the family members so as to leave no witnesses, before he enlisted Perry.

Dick Hickok was a textbook sociopath. He didn’t have normal empathetic or sympathetic feelings toward normal people. (Perry may also have met the definition, although some of his actions showed signs of empathy and guilt, if not actual remorse). He was also sexually attracted to pubescent girls by his own admission. His execution by the state of Kansas, rather than a sentence of life with the possibility of parole (since Kansas did not have “life without parole” sentences at that time), possibly saved girls and very young women from falling victim to him.

These were not good people who were denied justice. They were intelligent and sometimes charming, but they were also violent, unrepentant criminals. It would be wrong to overly romanticize them, and I don’t think Capote did. I think he balanced his personal relationship with Hickok and Smith, such as it was, with journalistic-type objectivity about the crimes, and a caring eye toward the people who were affected by it.

Clifton Collins, Jr.

It's probably not that terrible, however, if you or I romanticize the actor who played Perry, Clifton Collins Jr., a little bit. The American actor of German and Mexican descent is unreasonably beautiful. His grandfather, Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez, was an Old Hollywood character actor who appeared as "comic relief" characters in some John Wayne movies. He was also a handsome man, but the grandson is dreamy.

Mark Pellegrino is pretty, too.  Blond and blue-eyed like Dick Hickok but, one presumes, without the homicidal tendencies, he's part Italian and part Russian and various kinds of Northern European. I don't quite understand his fascination with Ayn Rand, but still, he's a pretty one.

Nonetheless, Collins is the one with the brown eyes so deep and dark, I'm almost angry at him for being so attractive. I have a boy crush.

This review represents my own honest opinion. This was a library book. I was not obligated in any way to review it.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Review: 'The Casual Vacancy' By J.K. Rowling


I recently finished The Casual Vacancy, the first novel J.K. Rowling wrote specifically for adults and her first post-Harry Potter release. If you have not read it, please look away now, as this post is not spoiler-free.

I didn't know whether or not I would like this book before I started reading. I'd read a few reviews, and they were mixed. Some people didn't like the characters, saying they were horrible people and therefore made bad protagonists.

It's true there are some conniving, cowardly, malicious, misguided, and unkind deeds afoot in Rowling's fictional town of Pagford and its neighbor, The Fields. With a variety of selfish motives, people commit crimes and misdemeanors against their fellows. A few times, compassion and humanity shine through.


Some of the residents of Pagford and the surrounding area are:

- Howard Mollison, the obese 64-year-old owner of the town's deli, and his wife Shirley
- Howard and Shirley's son Miles Mollison, a lawyer
- Samantha Mollison, owner of a boutique lingerie business and highly unsatisfied wife of Miles
- Gavin Hughes, an insurance agent
- Kay Bowden, a social worker and mother of 16-year-old Gaia. The Bowdens are transplants from London.
- Parminder Jawanda, the local general practitioner and the mom of three teenagers
- Vikram Jawanda, Parminder's impossibly gorgeous husband, a heart surgeon
- Sukhvinder Jawanda, the youngest of the Jawanda children, teased at school for being overweight and having more facial hair than is considered typically feminine. Suhkvinder feels inferior to her older brother and sister because she has a learning disability and doesn't do as well in school as them. Because she's bullied by her peers and criticized by her parents, she cuts herself to try to relieve the pain and stress.
- Andrew Price, also sixteen, one of two sons of crooked, verbally and physically abusive Simon Price and nurse Ruth Price. Andrew has a crush on Gaia Bowden.
- Stuart "Fats" Wall, a thin middle-class boy who's been Andrew's best friend since they were four years old. Fats' favorite pastimes include smoking marijuana, opposing his parents at every turn, and obsessing over "authenticity" in a Holden Caulfield-like fashion.
- Colin "Cubby" Wall, deputy headmaster at the school Fats, Andrew, Gaia, Sukhvinder and the other teens attend. A nervous, fussy man with a large, balding forehead, Colin has a hidden illness.
- Tessa Wall, the diabetic school guidance counselor, wife of Colin and adoptive mother of Stuart
- Barry Fairbrother, the town councilor, a substitute teacher, and coach of the high school rowing team whose unexpected death from a brain aneurysm kicks off the plot of the novel
- Mary Fairbrother, Barry's grieving widow and the mother of their son and twin daughters
- Krystal Weedon, the girl from The Fields, Barry's favorite rower, and the daughter of a heroin addict

Okay, so the cast of characters is as large and complicated as that of Middlemarch. Barry Fairbrother dies in the first few pages, and much of the main plot centers on Miles, Simon, Parminder, and Colin all competing to fill the empty seat - the casual vacancy of the title - on the town council created by Barry's death.


I really enjoyed this book. For one thing, it's nice to see that J.K. Rowling's spellbinding storytelling skills carry beyond the Harry Potter novels. The author is witty, she's a powerful observer of human behavior, and she writes with such intensity I get wrapped up in her fictional world to the exclusion of reality.

None of the characters are perfect by any stretch, but I did bond with some of them. Krystal and Sukhvinder are my favorites. Krystal's swaggering bravado disguised her inner vulnerability, including the fierceness with which she loved her loved ones, her ultimate undoing. In many ways she was a victim of circumstance - as was her mother, although Terri Weedon's soul-crushing mistakes seem much less excusable given that she's an adult, she should know better, and she keeps making the same stupid mistake over and over...as addicts will do.

Sukhvinder seems to be falling apart, both from her own point of view and in the eyes of others. She doesn't seem to have much going for her, and yet she's a hidden well of strength. Through the events of the novel, Sukhvinder finds her voice and inspires her mother to become a better person.

Kudos to Rowling for writing complex, multidimensional characters who aren't stereotypes and who interact in complex ways. I'm now exciting to read the two mysteries Rowling wrote under the pseudonym Robert Galbraith. (Sigh - knock one book off my TBR list, add two more. Story of my literary life.) Apparently this book is being made into a miniseries as a collaboration between the BBC and HBO, and I look forward to seeing it.

P.S. If I were to fantasy-cast this movie, I would want Vikram to be played by the beautiful and talented Naveen Andrews, an Englishman best known to American audiences as Sayid Jarrah on Lost. (Fans self.)

It's not a great picture because we cant see his eyes, but it is Creative Commons. Image by Kanaka's Paradise Life of Honolulu, Hawaii

I purchased this book with my own funds via Amazon.com and was not obligated to review it in any way. My copy is a used book that came from a library sale, specifically from the Pikes Peak Library District of Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

A-Z Book Challenge (Nicked From The Book Chewers)

On Tuesday, I participated in the A-Z Book Survey. Then I stumbled across the A-Z Book Challenge, which is slightly different. This blog prompt, initiated by The Book Chewers, asks participants to list one book they've read from for each letter of the alphabet.



A - The Art of Disappearing
B - The Book Thief
C - The Catcher in the Rye
D - Dandelion Wine
E - Every Demon Has His Day 
F - Frankenstein
G - Go, Mutants!
H - The Hobbit
I - Isis (Douglas Clegg)
J - Juliet Immortal
K - Kiss Crush Collide
L - Lord of the Flies
M - The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat and Other Clinical Tales
N - Nine Stories (J.D. Salinger)
O - On the Road
P - Pretty Birds
Q - Quidditch Through the Ages
R - The Reptile Room (A Series of Unfortunate Events)
S - The Scarlet Letter
T - To Kill a Mockingbird
U - Ultimate Blogs: Masterworks from the World Wide Web
V - Violin (Anne Rice)
W - Walden
X
Y 
Z - Zen Guitar (Philip Toshio Sudo) 



I couldn't think of any for X or Y. 

Friday, August 17, 2012

The Tennessee Williams Play That Freaks Me Out

I haven't been reading for pleasure lately, stopping in the middles of The Amber Spyglass and The Thin Red Line to study up on the U.S. Constitution, presidents, Supreme Court justices, bodies of water, Canadian provinces et al. for my upcoming Jeopardy! try-out. I've also been dusting and reorganizing my bookshelves, and when I came across Who the Hell is Pansy O'Hara? The Fascinating Stories Behind 50 of the World's Best-Loved Books by Jenny Bond and Chris Sheedy, I couldn't resist flipping it open.



From Here to Eternity is on page 131. I'm pretty sure I read this section before, but I didn't mean as much to  me before I finished FHTE. I learned (or re-learned) that James Jones is like Robert E. Lee Prewitt in the following ways: Jones' father was an alcoholic, which was part of the reason Jones left the family home as a teen, and he was also a boxer in a unit renowned for its Golden Gloves participants. I also learned that the book FHTE beat out when it won the National Book Award was The Catcher in the Rye.

Catcher in the Rye is a favorite subject of the conspiracy theory bloggers, by the way. See this post at MK Culture, for example, or this post at Pseudo-Occult Media implicating the cartoon Family Guy (a cartoon I personally dislike, for the record). The Wikipedia entry on the book mentions that it's been linked to John Hinckley Jr.'s attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan, Mark David Chapman's shooting of John Lennon and Robert John Bardo's shooting of Rebecca Shaeffer.

Anyway, another book I came across was Famous American Plays of the 1940s, edited  by Henry Hewes, which was one of my school books from my freshman year of high school. The first play is Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth, and it includes the cast of the first production (November 18, 1942). It included Tallulah Bankhead as Sabina (P.S. that was my maternal grandpa's mom's name) and Montgomery Clift (then aged 22) as young Henry.



I've been borrowing Montgomery Clift films from Netflix, and after reading Tennessee Williams' rather catty quote about Marilyn Monroe via D.R. Haney's Salon.com article on Marilyn's death anniversary, I somehow came to the conclusion that I should watch the Williams adaptation Suddenly Last Summer, which features Montgomery Clift. I was imagining it would be a family drama along the lines of Streetcar,  with Elizabeth Taylor doing a turn as a Blanche Dubois-esque Southern Belle, probably with some tragic result. I had no idea it would be so creepy and disturb me so much.

The screenplay, by the way, was written by the recently deceased Gore Vidal.



(Vidal is on the right, next to Tom Wolfe.)

At the beginning of the movie, Montgomery Clift's character, psychiatrist Dr. Cukrowitz (from the Polish word for sugar, cukro), is performing a lobotomy at a former school made into a mental health hospital; the building is literally falling apart. He's from Chicago, but recently moved his practice to this state-run hospital in New Orleans. Later that same day, he meets a potential benefactor in Mrs. Violet Venable (Katherine Hepburn). 

Mrs. Venable, who arrives to greet Dr. Cukrowitz via an elevator that makes her look like a goddess descending in an ancient Greek drama, is deeply in grief over the death of her son Sebastian. Sebastian (explicitly named for the saint who was martyred after being shot with arrows) supposedly died of a heart attack in Spain the previous summer, and his death was witnessed by his cousin, Catherine Holly (Taylor). Catherine suffered a mental break because of her cousin's death and is now confined to a Catholic mental health hospital.



Mrs. Venable, who is widowed, shows the doctor around Sebastian's jungle-like garden, where she feeds her Venus fly-trap. The garden contains a statue of the angel of death, which resembles the alleged "angel skeleton" on The Simpsons. 



Violet was unusually devoted to her son, even going to so far as to say the mother-son pair was regarded as a couple. Sebastian and Violet's relationship was overly entangled, if not outright incestuous.  

Mrs. Venable's deeply offended by the "babblings" of Catherine in her "madness," which impugns Sebastian's "moral character." Violet wants Catherine to have a lobotomy, supposedly for her own good. When we first meet Catherine, she has intentionally burned a nun's hand with a cigarette, and stands accused of molesting a 60-year-old male gardener and then claiming the man attempted to rape her. Is Catherine really mentally ill, or is she a sane woman who suffered a terrible trauma and is now chafing under the restraints of an overly restrictive hospital where she does not belong? 

At that first meeting between Catherine and Dr. Cukrowicz, she kisses him. He does nothing to discourage her, dismissing this inappropriate interaction as "a friendly kiss." They're going to have major transference issues. 

However, the much larger danger to Catherine is that Violet's money, power and influence will induce the state hospital (to which Catherine is moved; the nuns have a hard time controlling her) to perform a lobotomy on Catherine. Tennessee Williams had a sister on whom a lobotomy was performed, and he appears to have been deeply traumatized by his parents' decision to allow this. 

Dr. Cukrowicz is reluctant to perform the surgery, at least until he can get from Catherine the true story of how Sebastian died in Spain. When Catherine does finally tell the story at the film's climax, it is very disturbing. We can assume from Catherine's narrative that Sebastian has used her to attract attention, then propositioned the men who swarmed around her. Before Violet got "too old," this was Violet's function for Sebastian as well. There's a suggestion - although nothing this explicit could have been stated in a 1950s film - that Sebastian may have taken advantage of underage boys, who are so poor he can coerce them with money.

For whatever reason, the mob of boys and young men turns against Sebastian, chase him through the streets and kill him in a manner most gruesome - they tear him apart, and some of them eat bits of his flesh. Since his previous play was titled Orpheus Descending, it's not too far-fetched to imagine that Williams may have been thinking of classical Greek and Roman mythology, with its fiercely violent followers of Dionysus and Bacchus - a theme also used by Charlaine Harris. Barbara Walker's Woman's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets will be happy to tell you that St. Sebastian is a mythological figure linked to the Gaulish version of the Annually Dying God, who is sacrificed each year. The website CatholicOnline says of St. Sebastian, "He is also commonly referred to as a homosexual icon, which remains an on-going controversial tie between  the gay community and the Roman Catholic Church." 



This is a much grislier fate than befalls the typical Tennessee Williams character; The New York Public Library Literature Companion says of the one-act play on which the film is based, "Even for Williams, the play is unusually bleak." Critics have suggested that according to the moral code of the 1950s, gay men were "monsters" who, like Frankenstein's monster, were to be dealt with by chasing them down with pitchforks and torches. If Mrs. Venable, in some aspects, represented Williams' mother, he may have identified with the refined, shy, sensitive poet Sebastian, and he may have felt he was being cruelly punished by society for being gay. Even if Williams identified with Sebastian, though, the film paints the character in a negative light. 

Katherine Hepburn's character, Mrs. Venable, is truly a villain, willing to destroy her young niece in defense of her dead son's reputation and to avoid facing the truth. 

Sebastian is disturbing. Mrs. Venable is disturbing. The relationship between Dr. Cukrowitz and Catherine - following the tried-and-true Hollywood trope that the hero must always get the girl at the end of the picture - is also disturbing. Dear Gore Vidal in gay heaven, this is such an inappropriate story onto which to tack a love story.  Yes, Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift were BFFs, but turning Catherine - who told the doctor about an experience of being sexually assaulted before she told him about her traumatic experience of witnessing Sebastian's death, and had also recently attempted suicide - into a romantic heroine is just bizarre.  She's far too vulnerable to be able to have an equal relationship (other than a professional relationship, that is) with her doctor, and he has totally forgotten his Hippocratic oath.



I'm not the only one disturbed by this fascinating, well-acted but problematic and strange melodrama. For further reading: