The Interestings

We had a great meeting Chez Jefe last week, getting together over a mega cheese and charcuterie platter, duck liver and all, followed by Prune Restaurant's lamb-chuck burgers with parsley butter on English muffins, and finally Sweet Rose Creamery ice cream sandwiches. Like bears hoarding calories in preparation for winter hibernation.

The Only Cheeseburger Recipe You'll Ever Need

The Interestings, by Meg Wolitzer, may or may not have deserved its title. 

The book scored a respectable 7.6, partially the result of a 10 dragged down by a few 6's. OK, admittedly the 10 came from a once-every-few-years El Jefe rave review, and disappointingly the Doctor broke ranks. So much for loyalty en la familia. Starting with the praise: the book was exceptionally well written and had excellent character development, a la Jeffrey Eugenides (who wrote the book jacket quote). There was a little of everything in this story-- some drama, primarily around Goodman's alleged rape of "Cathy Kiplinger" and his subsequent flight to Iceland, a bit of humor, a bit of romance, and plentiful references to current or recent historical events, such as the AIDS epidemic, the "Moonies" cult and the obvious reference in Ethan's character to Matt Groening, creator of The Simpsons. Also, the sheer breadth of this story was impressive, in that it deeply explored social, emotional and career-related themes involving characters with widely varied personalities and over a long period of time, from the early teen years through adulthood. Finally, for at least one of us the book resonated on a personal level with reaching an age where you look both backwards and forwards at the trajectory of your life, partially with nostalgia and partially with adult objectivity, reassessing long-held perceptions of friends and family in light of the way they, or you, have changed. 

And then, of course, the irony-- that these fabulous youngsters riding atop the world, profoundly impressed by their own ideas and opportunities, poised for greatness and yearning to conquer New York, were at the end of the day not all that interesting. While this undoubtedly was part of the book's message, and in fact the author expressly acknowledged it on the last page, it didn't necessarily make for good reading according to several in our group. Boring, self-indulgent, young, lacking in forward trajectory. The characters were stereotypical (in fact, several people disliked Jules, the main character, finding her weak and annoying), certain of the writing conventions were obvious and the whole thing was just, well, uninteresting. 

Our next meeting is on Tuesday, November 5. The Doctor is hosting (in her new (temporary) house!), the Highlander is on apps and the Foxx on dessert. Having read ahead, El Jefe can guarantee that the November book, A Hundred Summers, will be a fun and pulpy change of pace. Highlander, don't miss this one, it's right up your alley!

 Ethan... fo' sho'

Mass wedding performed by the Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity under Rev. Sun Myung Moon

1980s. We have come a long way.

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.

The Poisoner's Handbook

What a kick off to 2012!  Welcome to Miss Georgia and the Saint, we are deeelighted to have you aboard!  We got acquainted over fromage et charcuterie, Chez Chateau, followed by pasta with Italian tuna, roasted bell peppers and pancetta and a tricolore salad, and then chocolatey mini-brownies in individual ramekins with vanilla ice cream and fruit compote for dessert.  So cozy--so delish!--the perfect winter BC.

The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum scored a 6.5, and would have been higher were it not for a dramatic, lowball "3" by Red.  We endeavored to explain the art and science of the BC rating system to Miss Georgia and the Saint, but, like the scores themselves, the discussion was fraught with disagreement.  Only a few clear rules were delineated:  don't wimp out and refuse to rate, no fractions less than 0.5, and always, always, change your score on an ad hoc basis as a result of the opinions of those who rated before you!  But El Jefe digresses...there were a lot of criticisms of this book.  Several of us were unimpressed by our jazz age protagonists, the incorruptible Charles Norris (New York's Chief Medical Examiner) and his trusty sidekick Alexander Gettler (Chief Toxicologist).  According to our group, they were lacking in character (or, at least the author lacked in describing their characters) and their disgusting toils were repetitive and tedious to read about.  No sympathy for these stalwart men, valiantly laboring away under preposterous working conditions (no car service!) and for too little pay in a corrupt and violent city.  Bah!  Others expressed the opinion that although the author tried to create an integrated narrative, the story nevertheless was disjointed, and reading the book felt like taking a chemistry lesson (assuming that's a bad thing).  But on the other hand, there was unanimous recognition that one learned a lot from this book, which illuminated fascinating and little-known historical facts about a time and place that has been endlessly romanticized, dramatized, and made to seem better than the godawful s*&#hole that it actually was.  The book also raised some interesting socio-political questions as we observed how the most poisonous wood alcohol was consumed by New York's poorest residents, while the uptown population somehow managed to score decent hooch--an obvious comparison to how crack cocaine and other lethal street drugs wreak havoc in poor communities today but are not used by affluent people who can afford "safer" drugs.  Finally, we talked about whether, after reading this book, we felt more or less optimistic about modern health and safety and exposure to chemical substances in daily life.  Sadly, while the understanding of industrial poisons has come a long way since the 1920s, most of us feel that there are new and unknown poisons lurking in consumer goods all around us, and science will just never catch up with detecting or monitoring the substances that find their way into food, cosmetics, the environment and our bodies every day.

Charles Norris and Alexander Gettler

"Radium Girls," painting watch dials at U.S. Radium Corp. circa 1917.

Cyanide.  Just a teaspoon can kill.

Moonshine

 Our next meeting is at Logan's Run's house on February 8.  We are reading Eat, Drink and Be Married, and author Rebecca Bloom will be there to discuss the book.  The Highlander is bringing apps and Miss Georgia is bringing dessert.  Until next time, read early and often, especially because the author is coming!