Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood and the Prison of Belief

Thanks to the Foxx for hosting BC. It was such a lovely evening that we will even forgive her for being an SP (see below). We started out with Salsa di Parmigiano, a ridiculously savory blend of chunks of parmesan and Asiago pureed in olive oil with scallions, garlic and red pepper flakes, to be slathered atop crostini (it was almost embarrassing how many of these El Jefe inhaled in the first two minutes upon arrival). Next, a hearty, healthy and delicious stew of kale, cannellini beans and turkey sausage with cornbread to dunk, and brownies with salted caramel sauce a la' mode.  Deee lish.

Michael Chiarellos' Salsa di Parmigiano

On to Lawrence Wright's Going Clear, which garnered a 7.4 rating. In the Scientology world, this is a truly impressive score. After all, OT VII is the second highest level on the Bridge to Total Freedom--well beyond Preclear, and rapidly progressing from Clear to Operating Thetan.  

Not that a suppressive person such as the Foxx would appreciate that.  She described this book as "creepy," "crazy" and "nutty"-- stark evidence of antisocial pathology. Logan's Run, also an SP, compared the devout souls depicted in this book to the real nut jobs in The 19th Wife and Under the Banner of Heaven. Red--another SP--simply put it:  "cray cray!" Finally, the Doctor, in a kind of paranoid twist on the SP, became afraid of getting snatched off her bed while reading the book. Ok, so there was an across the board consensus that Scientology is a cult:  the terminology, the way it sucked in the vulnerable and destroyed their lives, the all-absorbing focus on a single charismatic individual... the way people get snatched off their beds? But let's turn to the book itself. Clearly (ha ha) the author researched this book to the nitty gritty end, as attested to by the dozens of pages of footnotes. However, as is often the case with non-fiction, it's difficult to walk that line between thoroughness and, well, boring your reader to tears. Despite the wacky theology and the star-studded cast of characters, Going Clear could be painfully boring at times, with one person commenting that the subject matter could have been adequately covered in half the pages. After all, this book is being marketed to the public for their reading pleasure, not as a scholarly treatise. Even the Highlander thought there was too much detail on the celebrities. (Wait, surely that sequence of words has never before been typed together, nor will it ever be in the future.) Yet this book raised some interesting questions for discussion. Such as, how could LRH, who was a wife beater and overall horrible man, become the central figure of a worldwide movement whose followers adored and emulated him? How and why is Scientology different from established religions, particularly Catholicism, which is all about mysteries, hierarchy and awesome outfits? To this last question, our group gave a lot of weight to the fact that Catholicism (and Judaism and Islam, etc.) is old (not to mention the Pope-- he is always old, too). Those religions pre-date modern means of communication, or really, almost any means of communication other than oral storytelling and writing on scrolls, and thus it's understandable that the religions' adherents could have accepted the religions' "truths"--whereas today it seems preposterous for some guy to try and convince people that he can multiply loaves and fishes. In any event, the IRS does not agree with our book club, and El Jefe's not going to argue with that.

See you mañana at Ms. K's house to discuss Wool!  xoej

A Passage to India

Thanks to the Maharani for hosting a marvelous BC last month, and a full house to boot (no surprise, given the culinary expectations!). We dove right into the theme with samosas and two kinds of chutney for dipping, followed by the Maharani's family recipe for chicken curry, saag paneer, naan-- plus, some sort of gluten-free options (how trendy that will seem by next year) and it was all lish! (And re-created last week in Sun Valley--still lish!) Then, thanks to a minor scheduling snafu, we feasted on two kinds of dessert, never a bad thing... cheesecake and homemade ginger cookies.  So excited for another feast tomorrow.

A Passage to India, by E.M. Forster, is such a venerable classic that El Jefe almost-- with an emphasis on "almost"-- hesitates to post a rating. But in the interest of not pulling a J.P., let's fess up and admit that the book scored a 6. Cringe! In a truly surprising display of cultural disloyalty, the Maharani led the charge with a "5," soon to be followed by a cascade of other "5s" by Ms. K., Logan's Run, and Red. El Jefe and the Doctor (rarely do they break ranks) salvaged a bit of dignity for Mr. Forster's masterpiece by bringing the rating up a notch. Lying at the heart of these lackluster numbers is the simple truth that A Passage to India was written in another time and place, with the pacing and languor of another time and place. It just couldn't keep readers' interest in (so cliche El Jefe can barely type) "today's fast paced world," where attention spans are short(er), there are a lot of entertaining books to choose from (funny we can't seem to find any lately) and people expect more easily accessible content. This book took patience. You had to suspend your skepticism and initial boredom and just roll with it. Very hard to do when, 150 pages in, still nothing has happened, it's unclear who the main characters are, and the whole thing is just, well, all narrative and no plot. Yet clearly this novel would not have found a place in the pantheon of literature if that were the end of it. The alternative viewpoint is that this is a poignant, colorful and beautifully-rendered story about nothing less than humanity itself. Yes, it portrays Anglo-India in a particular moment in history, yes it provides an insider's view on another culture, but beyond (or maybe underneath) all that, this was a story about individuals striving to figure out their existence relative to each other. It's too bad the Maharani's mom couldn't be there, as it would have been interesting to get her take on Forster's portrayal of English colonization and, as was pointed out, its lasting effects on Indian culture and behavior (such as a tendency to be overly deferential or purposefully simplistic). We saw some of these traits in Aziz, who alternatively came across as inadvertently bumbling and intentionally deceitful (such as inviting people to his home when he had no intention of hosting them, or telling lies regarding things he knew weren't true just because he wished they were). But overall, the group thought Aziz was a worthy character and El Jefe would defend the worthiness of this book as well, despite the poor rating. Patience, dear readers!  

Our next meeting is, ahem, later today at Chez Fox. Until next time, read early and often. xoej

 Movie adaptation directed by David Lean (1984), L to R: Judy Davis, Victor Banerjee, Peggy Ashcroft (a.k.a. Esmiss Esmoor), James Fox

 The Marabar Caves

This is what we're used to nowadays

Let the Great World Spin

Thanks to the Doctor for hosting a fabulously delish BC.  In back-to-back meetings (gasp), we started with the Barefoot Contessa's tomato and whipped feta crostini (what's wrong with back-to-back deliciousness?) and then followed with what may have catapulted into the top 5 BC entrees of all time:  lamb tagine with chickpeas and apricots over steamed cous cous.  Mouth watering just to think about it.

And then, just in case anyone had forgotten:

Thank goodness for the cake, because some of us actually needed a little reminder given the pretty weak completion rate for Let the Great World Spin, by Colum McCann.  After all, delivering the message via chocolate and frosting is much more persuasive (and palatable) than El Jefe's alternative idea, namely, that whoever didn't read would be the next host.  But in all fairness--and then we'll get to the book--if we don't hit on a popular book selection prontissimo we'll have to change the name to The Club of Torture. Anyone loving A Passage to India?!

Unfortunately, El Jefe, in her lamb tagine-fueled stupor, forgot her copious notes at Chez Doctor and thus the rating is subject to fuzzy memory:  let's say 6.5-ish.  Lots of us just couldn't get engaged in this novel. That the author made the Irish chapter the longest one in the book and stuck it in front just to daunt the weak of heart is, well, super Irish. (The 10th Member--now the 9th Member?--just leaned over and asked why El Jefe hates the Irish so much.  Hmmmm.)  Even for those who made it through all that Irish, there wasn't necessarily an instant connection. This was yet another book that didn't have a linear story. Clearly the whole "I've come up with a dozen stories that overlap and converge" is a popular convention in the literary world right now, however, this group of readers is weary of always having to stitch clever plot lines together in retrospect.  But wait, ultimately, perseverance was rewarded:  those who finished the book liked it very much in the end.  The story, once all the pieces fit together, was remarkably creative and heartbreaking.  So many characters were developed with love and detail, from Tillie and Jazzlyn in the Bronx to Claire Soderberg on Park Avenue to poor, doomed Corrigan in his apartment in the projects--all revealed to their core. At the same time, the novel was punctuated by one-off vignettes like the early tech-geeks hacking into phone lines on the morning of Philippe Petit's high wire walk, or the subway grafitti photographer; these were funky, pleasantly intriguing intermissions in this otherwise heavy novel. The result was a truly unique mix of chapters that left the reader deeply moved but also pondering the deeper meaning of the book. One final note (no names named): watching the movie Man on Wire was not a substitute for reading the book!

El Jefe is certain that at our March 12 meeting the food will make up for whatever suffering the book inflicts. So, pretend this is written on a cake:  make an effort, until next time, read early and often, and for God sakes bring some good book suggestions. xoej

That is one crazy mo fo.

Ms. Hempel Chronicles

2013 got rolling with Book Club at Chez Jefe.  One would think we were all ready to dry out after the holidays.  Au contraire.  We bellied up to the bar and noshed on bruschetta from the new Contessa cookbook, a medley of baby heirloom tomatoes, fresh basil and pine nuts over whipped feta.  Ina, you never disappoint! Then, an experimental (ahem) foray into a winter gratin of white beans, butternut squash, sage and garlic and an arugula salad, with cake for dessert.  Lish!

Our book was Ms. Hempel Chronicles, by, steady now, deep breath, Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum. 

This petit little novel scored a 7.  The story comprises a series of vignettes, not in chronological order, from the life of elementary school teacher "Ms. Hempel."  Clearly SSLB is a talented writer.  She dips in and out of Ms. Hempel's psyche, rendering the emotions so clearly that the reader almost experiences them for herself, whether it's the rush of an unexpected kiss, or the sinking dread of watching children play a dangerous game that could lead to disaster.  The prose was well-chosen:  delicate, sensitive and interesting with a touch of humor. Those who liked this book thought it was whimsical and full of charming discoveries throughout--like realizing more than half way through that Ms. Hempel is part Asian, or being suddenly deflated to find out, in hindsight, that her engagement broke off.  It also was fun to reminisce and put into context just how young some of our teachers were (mere kids in their 20's!) although at the time, of course, we never would have thought of it that way. On the other hand, there was a tinge of sadness in this book that some of us found depressing.  For example, how Ms. Hempel grew up being told by her father how extraordinary she was--but then wasn't after all-- or how her love life became so misdirected.  The other comment that came up, once again, is that the story didn't go anywhere and was too random.  It's time (although with El Jefe's vision into the future she can tell it won't be next month!) for a good meaty, linear novel that tells a story start to finish with characters you can sink your teeth into.  Let's beef up that list o' death!

Until next time, read early and often!  xoej

Fooling Houdini

Thanks to the Highlander for hosting the 10th annual Holiday BC!  Hard to believe, but true.  Love that it's become such a tradish, even down to the menu:  hot artichoke dip (the low calorie one), bruschetta, beef bourguignon over garlic mashed potatoes, LOTS of kale salad, haricots verts, brownies and blondies and those famous Heath Bar cookies from Logan's Run. Lots of champers. Lots.  Thank goodness we had enough food. 

Well, it looks like Alex Stone couldn't pull a high rating out of a hat for our December book, Fooling Houdini.

The book on average scored a 5.3.  From the critics, two main themes were repeated:  first, that the book was too "thin"--in other words, not enough tricks in the bag to fill 300+ pages (in fact, the 10th Member said the entire book should have been an 8-page article in Vanity Fair:  snap!)-- and second, the story didn't flow well, skipping around from physics to street hustlers to the author trying to pick up girls in bars using card tricks. While these readers found certain individual elements among this melange of topics to be intriguing (in particular, learning about New York's magic "underground" was a favorite), there wasn't enough overall continuity to keep the audience engaged. Others in our group (haters, all of them) said they just didn't care about the author and that the book got overly technical. This last point is ironic considering how much heat the author took for "revealing" magic tricks in his writing.  It would seem that your average reader doesn't really want that level of detail and certainly isn't going home and trying to replicate the Ambitious Card Routine. On the flip side, the non-haters appreciated the insights into the history of magic, the tie-ins to math and science, the play-by-play instructions on how to run The Monte, and the theory that Jesus Christ himself might have been a magician. Abracadabra, so much for miracles. One thing we all could agree on: the dork factor here was super high. Super. High. Magic Olympics, anyone?

Dai Vernon, a.k.a "the Professor"

Richard Turner, card manipulation expert (and blind!)

 Jim McBride.  Oh so Vegas

Not sexy, right?

Sexy

In related news, check out this blast from the past!  Our next meeting is at Chez Jefe on Tuesday.  We are reading Ms. Hempel Chronicles.  See you there and then.  xoej

Cloud Atlas

Thanks to the Maharani for jumping right in to host the November BC.  We caught up on the month's gossip over wine and a cheese platter, followed by the perfect fall meal:  Ina Garten's beef short ribs (falling off the bone!) with potatoes and, heavens, some delish dessert that is escaping poor El Jefe's overtaxed memory at the moment.  El Jefe does recall, however, the stunning arrangement of seasonal branches and leaves in the center of the Maharani's kitchen island!  Beautiful!  Maharani, you can host BC any time!

On to the book, as, given the late hour, El Jefe needs to keep this short (unlike Sloosha's Crossing, which was anything but...)

David Mitchell's tour de force Cloud Atlas scored a 7.3.  Let's break this down a bit further.  Now, this was an extremely difficult piece of literature to sink one's teeth into, and indeed there were two of our fearless band who did not make it to the main course and therefore abstained from rating.  A lowball 3 from the Maharani was paired with 8s and even a 9 from the rest of us.  An interesting dichotomy.  This book was comprised of six separate stories that shared certain thematic connections and were organized for the first half of the book in chronological order, and for the second half in reverse chronological order--with Sloosha's Crossing at the apex (or nadir).  The characters, plots and linguistic styles ranged from a Melvillian sailing expedition from the 1800s featuring questionable physicians and aboriginal stowaways, to the modern day rise and fall of a British book publisher cum old folks home prisoner, to a heart-wrenching tale of violence and survival set in post-Apocalyptic Hawaii and written entirely in a made-up pidgin dialect.  Phew!  So what did we make of all this?  Clearly Mitchell was not entirely successful in interweaving these tales.  The low rating was given on account of the stories failing to relate to each other in a coherent way and a lack of payoff (understandable that one would be looking for a payoff given how difficult it was to get through this book!).  On the other hand, high marks were given for the sheer literary achievement of Cloud Atlas and its many inventive features.  True, not everything was spelled out (in fact, most things weren't).  For example, what the heck was going on with those comet-shaped birthmarks sported by one character in each story?  To some, the birthmarks were an annoying and unsatisfactory gimmick.  However, as Ms. K. insightfully noted, even though they were not fully explained, the birthmarks might have symbolized death and reincarnation, a central theme of the book.  Overall, it seemed like the amount of enjoyment taken from this book was influenced by the reader's expectation, and perhaps the best way to read Cloud Atlas is with no expectation at all, just a willingness to go to whatever time and place the author takes you.

Interestingly, the motion picture feature was released the same week, to mixed reviews.  How about the casting?

Tom Hanks as a goatherd survivalist;  he also plays the nuclear physicist Isaac Sachs

 Halle Berry as Luisa Rey;  she also plays Meronym in the Sloosha chapter

Ben Whishaw as the composer Robert Frobisher;  also plays the record store clerk who helps Louisa Rey find a copy of the Cloud Atlas Sextet

 Jim Broadbent, playing Timothy Cavendish the book publisher;  also plays the composer who takes Robert Frobisher as his apprentice

Still confused?  Here's a guide to all the characters!

Our next meeting is, oops, today, that is, in 18 short hours.  It's the annual holiday BC at the Highlander's house.  Hopefully everyone knows their dinner assignments and has practiced their magic tricks (and, of course, read the book--we never said this wasn't a high maintenance book club!).  See you very, very soon.  xoej

Beautiful Ruins

Thanks to Red for hosting what may be the last ever BC in The 'Dena.  The night started out like a skit from The Californians, with at least the first half hour devoted to "How did you get hearre?"  Be it The 10 to The 110 to The 5, or The 405 to The 101 to The 134, it just goes to show our DEDICATION to discussing a good book among friends over lots and lots of wine.  We started off with pepadew peppers stuffed with chevre and a platter of spinach and feta spanikopita, followed by a hearty vegetarian bean chili (with a kick!) out of the Once Upon a Tart cookbook, accompanied by corn bread and jalapeno jelly, followed by French cookies and petits fours to finish off the evening.  Lish!

Once Upon a Tart in NYC... probably underwater now

Welcome to the Maharani!  We're delighted and excited to have you on board (even if you did get a bit of a break the first month since you already read the book)! 

Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter scored roughly a 6.  Forget the relative merits or detractions in the story, the Maharani brought the hammer down right out of the starting gate with a criticism of the cover!  That's right, we're talking about the book jacket.  El Jefe thinks this is a BC first, but, hey, what's the point of a new member if they don't bring fresh commentary to the table?!  Specifically (sorry, just can't resist), one can't judge a book by its cover after all.  If you thought you were picking up a sophisticated, subtle tale of love and loss, nostalgically set in the Cinque Terre circa 1950--well, you were, that is until you flip to the chapter about the cheesy movie producer and the even cheesier dude with the tattoo hawking his Donner Party movie script.  Say what?  Exactly.  It's not that this book was terrible.  It was really two books, one of which most people liked (the one about broken hearts on the Italian coastline and Richard Burton and Liz Taylor) and the other of which was more or less lame.  (This is how El Jefe is remembering the consensus opinion three weeks later, however, admittedly it may just be El Jefe's opinion.)  But really, this story was not all bad, or even half bad.  Certainly there was humor in this book, from the madcap hijinx that unfolded on the set of Cleopatra, to the descriptions of the producer Michael Deane's plastic surgery, to the charmingly named Hotel Adequate View.  The way the book mixed in real life personalities from 1950's Hollywood also was fun, and there were a number of likable characters from Pasquale the innkeeper to Alvis Bender the novel writer to the drunk fisherman on the beach in Porto Vergogna.  Although Beautiful Ruins won't go down in BC history as a fine piece of literature, it was an easy and enjoyable enough read, and (in retrospect) a breath of fresh air in comparison to next month's beast!!

 Cinque Terre, Italia

Those lips! No wonder she fell for him!

Our next meeting is on Monday at the Maharani's house.  El Jefe is on apps and Red on dessert.  Come with your note pads to review the propositions and your calendars to pick a date for Holiday BC.  Hope you've been reading early and often.  xoej