Prince Caspian by C. S. Lewis

Then, at Aslan’s command, Peter bestowed the Knighthood of the Order of the Lion on Caspian, and Caspian, as soon as he was knighted, himself bestowed it on Trufflehunter and Trumpkin and Reepicheep, and made Doctor Cornelius his Lord Chancellor, and confirmed the Bulgy Bear in his hereditary office of Marshal of the Lists. And there was great applause.

Prince Caspian by C. S. Lewis is #3 in the “old school” order of publication (the way I read them as a kid), #2 in the movie tie-in editions (the movies from the 2000’s) and #4 in the chronological (rearranged) editions.

I love the premise of the novel in which Caspian lives with his Uncle and Aunt who are the King and Queen of Narnia. Caspian hears stories of a time when Narnia was inhabited by talking animals and all things magic abounded. However, his Uncle and most “normal” people of Narnia consider this nonsense. This loss of innocence that Caspian doesn’t quite realize is lost provides the perfect backdrop to another Narnia adventure.

Dire situations require the four Pevensie children be called back to Narnia to help Caspian regain his rightful place as King of Narnia.

Through sheer bravery, High King Peter (or former High King Peter) defeats Caspian’s uncle in a duel for the ages.

As the magical beings and the talking animals re-establish themselves in the enchanted version of Narnia, they march through the towns with all the joy of childhood and all the glory of innocence found.

This story is delightful in all the best ways.

kaddish.com by Nathan Englander

Oh, how used to staring up at ceilings Shuli had become. Here, camping out in the lovely chill of a Jerusalem night, Shuli looks up and muses his nocturnal musings with nothing to impede them. Without a roof above, his gaze bears on and on into a star-backed sky.

In the middle of Nathan Englander’s kaddish.com, fifty year-old Reb Shuli sits on a bench outside the “principle’s” office with his 12 year-old student, Gavriel. Both are in trouble. Gavriel gets suspended one day while Shuli gets suspended for two weeks. Gavriel has been helping Shuli find the location, via IPS addresses, of a yeshiva that Shuli had contacted twenty years earlier, during his atheist phase, to find someone to say kaddish, the mourner’s prayer, for his dead father.

We don’t completely know why Shuli converted back to his Orthodox Judaism and became a rabbi, but it makes this scene all the more comical. The rabbi’s constant removal of Gavriel from his classes and the extra recesses adds up to farcical brilliance. As Shuli’s admiration for Gavriel’s computer skills grows, he eventually heads off to Jerusalem to find the man who actually said kaddish for his father.

With some more non-computerized sleuthing and some surreal dreams, the story moves from farce to Shuli’s coming to terms with himself, his past, his faith, his family and his father’s death.

The interactions between Shuli and Gavriel gave the book its laughs and its charm; but overall, it’s a sweet story of a man’s personal and spiritual growth.

The Horse and His Boy by C. S. Lewis

The Horse and His Boy is what I consider to be the second book in C. S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia mainly because it’s how I read them when I was a kid. On goodreads.com, I found editions that are considered #3 because The Magician’s Nephew got moved from #7 to #1. I’ve also found editions that are placed at #5. Perhaps that’s because the movies that came out in the mid 2000’s started with The Lion , The Witch and The Wardrobe, which was already #2 in the books, with Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader as next. The movies never got any farther and also skipped The Horse and His Boy. Maybe some movie related publications moved it to #5.

I do remember that as a kid, this was the most difficult of the books to get through. I’m not sure why other than the entire book takes place in the Narnia realm at a time when the four Pevensie children were Kings and Queens. There isn’t any moving between the “real world” and the Narnia world – which as a kid was the fun part of the stories and took place in all of the other books.

As an adult, though, I found it just as rewarding. Shasta runs away from his “father” when he meets a Talking Horse, Bree, from Narnia. This sets him on great adventures in which he figures out who he really is – both biologically and personally. Aslan, of course, makes important contributions to Shasta’s maturing although Aslan isn’t in the novel as much as I thought he might be.

And the Pevensie children are adults as King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmond and Queen Lucy. This could also be the reason a child might not enjoy this book as much if they are used to these Royal adults being kids.

I found to be especially touching an interaction between Aslan the Lion and Hwin, Bree’s lady horse friend:

Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little neigh and trotted across to the Lion.

‘Please,’ she said, ‘you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.’

‘Dearest daughter,’ said Aslan, planting a lion’s kiss on her twitching, velvet nose, ‘I knew you would not be long in coming to me. Joy shall be yours.’

A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines

In Ernest J. Gaines’ A Lesson Before Dying, Jefferson is falsely accused of murder, found guilty and sentenced to death. The narrator, Grant Wiggins, teaches on a plantation school in 1940’s Louisiana and, against his will, is strongly encouraged by his aunt to visit Jefferson and be his friend until execution day.

Grant has gotten a teaching degree and becomes the African American community’s hope – again, against his will. Nobody has expectations that Jefferson’s execution will be stayed but many feel Grant can find some sort of dignity for Jefferson.

Gaines’ style is deceivingly simple; however, instead of describing it with the iceberg analogy so many use for Ernest Hemingway, it’s more of a volcano analogy. The simplicity has a lot bubbling under the surface ready to erupt.

The tension between Grant, the agnostic, and the small town preacher, Reverend Ambrose, brings out one of several powerful moments:

‘And that’s the difference between me and you, boy; that make me the educated one, and you the gump. I know my people. I know what they gone through. I know they done cheated themself, lied to themself – hoping that one they all love and trust can come back and help relieve the pain.’

That this tension between the preacher’s concern for Jefferson’s soul and Grant’s concern for Jefferson’s dignity never gets resolved absolutely continues to keep everything bubbling under the surface even after the novel ends.

C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe

This is the third time I’ve read C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. The first time was when I was a kid and the second time was when my kids were kids. Now my kids are all grown up and reading it the third time brought back fond memories from both of the other times I’ve read it.

I’ll make one hopefully brief comment about the order in which the Chronicles of Narnia are now published. The first time I read them, The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe was considered the first in the series and I believe it was the first one to be originally published. The Magician’s Nephew was considered the seventh in the series and was the last one to be originally published; however, The Magician’s Nephew is the first story chronologically so it was more of a prequel when it was first published. At some point, I’m not sure exactly when, The Magician’s Nephew began being published as the first in the series. When I read them as a kid, The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe was the first in the series so this is how I always think of them. I’m not really that much in to picking a side; however, there are those that are very passionate about which way they should be ordered.

But moving on to the story itself. I know there have been many posts about these books and lots have been said about them. I love this series and this book is probably my favorite. The one line that always stands out to me is Mr. Beaver’s explanation of Aslan the Lion:

‘Safe?…Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.

A story aimed at children with a good moral doesn’t have to be boring. Being good doesn’t have to be boring. Maybe true goodness is more like an adventure.

Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie: Book Three

Book Three of Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children ends the novel in a messy, convoluted delight.

This section starts with Saleem not knowing his name, being called “buddha” by army friends as he travels into the jungle like Heart of Darkness or Apocalypse Now. I’m not sure why I keep comparing this novel to other novels or authors. They just seem to jump out at me. At the same time, Rushdie does put all of this together on his own with his own style.

As Saleem gets his memory back, he continues to narrate in the present. We finally meet his wife Padma in his story – we’ve already met her in the present. Through snake charmers and green chutney, Saleem tells us what happens to midnight’s children and their relationship to India’s history during the 1970’s.

In what might seem odd but actually is just right, Saleem ends his history in a pickle factory. Pickling appears to remind him of what he’s doing – preserving history:

To pickle is to give immortality, after all: fish, vegetables, fruit hang embalmed is spice-and-vinegar; a certain alteration, a slight intensification of taste, is a small matter, surely? The art is to change the flavor in degree, but not in kind; and above all…to give it shape and form – that is to say, meaning. (I have mentioned my fear of absurdity.)

One day, perhaps, the world may taste the pickles of history. They may be too strong for some palates, their smell may be overpowering, tears may rise to eyes; I hope nevertheless that it will be possible to say of them that they possess the authentic taste of truth…that they are, despite everything, acts of love.

Sally Benson: Apartment Hotel

Mr. and Mrs. Morrison lived in an apartment hotel in the East Thirties. They had moved there from an apartment hotel in the East Twenties that had been torn down to make an office building.

The marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Morrison in Sally Benson’s “Apartment Hotel” mingles both heartbreak and comfort. It’s a very short story and much of it deals with implications. We know their baby dies just before they move to an apartment hotel which provided them a reason to not keep house. They continued to live in one for thirty years. So we know they are not necessarily young.

In the middle of the story, Mrs. Morrison overhears some younger people on a bus discuss their previous evening of partying which includes an address that she mistakenly thinks is an Italian restaurant. She and Mr. Morrison realize its a mistake when they try to go there. Again, it’s heartbreaking – with a little humor.

Before and after the restaurant incident, the Morrison’s lives get described in small details of what could be considered hum-drum. One gets the idea that the restaurant visit is an attempt to liven things up. But the small and hum-drum can also be interpreted as resilient. The Morrisons seem to have survived and don’t need the life of the young and partying.

This is another story in Wonderful Town: New York Stories from the New Yorker edited by David Remnick.

Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie: Book Two

Book Two of Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children took me a little longer than anticipated but I found it worth the time.

I compared Rushdie to Kurt Vonnegut in my post about Book One. In Book Two, the Vonnegut twinkle is still there but something about all the details of the plot reminded me also of Charles Dickens – specifically David Copperfield.

As Saleem Sinai continues to tell his life story after he was born on India’s Independence Day from Great Britain, he now realizes he has extra sensory perception (mind-reading) with many of his fellow children born just after midnight on that day. Eventually this turns into an extra sensory ability to smell – not just regular smells but other smells – like the smell of emotions.

This sort of magical realism doesn’t always occur in Dickens’ novels but the plot driven narrative always makes me wonder if Dickens knew how his story was going to end or whether he made it up as he went along. I found myself asking the same question of Rushdie as he narrates Saleem’s childhood.

However, Rushdie gives his narrator a different spin in that he is less reliable than Dickens’ narrator (at least in David Copperfield). In fact, numerous times Saleem just flat out tells the reader that he’s unreliable – at which I have to at least chuckle. As far as knowing how its going to end, Saleem will also frequently hint at something and then say “that’s for later” – giving a sense that Rushdie did know how everything turns out as he was writing it – provided his narrator can be relied upon, of course.

The plot itself revolves around Saleem’s family as they become involved with Indian and Pakistani politics and culture during the 1950’s and 1960’s (at least so far – who knows where Book Three will take us). My post about Book Two can end with this quotation that seems ever so applicable to today:

…in a country where the truth is what it is instructed to be, reality quite literally ceases to exist, so that everything becomes possible except what we are told is the case; and maybe this was the difference between my Indian childhood and Pakistani adolescence – that in the first I was beset by an infinity of alternative realities, while in the second I was adrift, disoriented, amid an equally infinite number of falsenesses, unrealities and lies.

Just for reference, Midnight’s Children was published in 1981.

Tama Janowitz: Physics

Now, I am a word person and have never been good with mathematical problems – how many miles a train can travel in five hours if its speed is forty miles per hour, and so forth. I always think, What if a cow gets in the way?

In looking through some of my short story collections, I realized that I only have five stories left in Wonderful Town: New York Stories from The New Yorker edited by David Remnick. Between now and the end of the the year, I figure I might as well knock these out then I can count it as a book I finished this year.

First up of the not-read stories is “Physics” by Tama Janowitz. It starts with Eleanor, the narrator, getting hit by a car. It’s not a major accident. In fact she leaves the scene to go have pizza. But I would say that getting hit by a car is still significant regardless to what degree.

Eleanor then narrates her story as she goes home to her artist boyfriend Stash, they have a fight over the refrigerator and then go out to a fancy dinner being thrown for a group of artists including Stash.

By this time, based on the narration, its not surprising that Eleanor feels out of place – no matter where she goes. A lot of inner dialogue takes place as Eleanor walks about her life. A lot of angst, insecurity – the things that exist in quite a few of these New York stories. The humor in the minute details of life pops up frequently. She decides she wants to have a baby – all of a sudden.

Ultimately, she compares life to a “Dodg’em car in an amusement park, where the sign says ‘Proceed at Own Risk’. On the one hand it’s very believable that Eleanor would come up with this lame metaphor. On the other hand, it’s a lame metaphor.

Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie: Book One

…I must interrupt myself. I wasn’t going to today, because Padma has started getting irritated whenever my narration becomes self-conscious, whenever, like an incompetent puppeteer, I reveal the hands holding the strings…

Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children makes great use of the metanarrative concept – at least so far in Book One. In fact, the quotation above practically defines metanarrative in a way that’s hidden and unless the reader is looking closely, it just seems a part of the story.

I’m not revealing anything that isn’t at the very start of the novel and that isn’t included in the goodreads description. The birth of the narrator takes place at midnight on August 15, 1947 – the exact moment that India breaks free from the British. While the reader understands this to be significant, by the end of Book One, they still don’t know the details of this significance. Actually, the narrator races toward this event as it occurs right at the end of Book One along with a slight twist.

At least in this first section, one might also consider the narrator unreliable as everything he’s telling is before he was born. The question about how he knows all this is there while the answer isn’t – but it doesn’t seem to matter. There seems to be a lot left for him to tell.

In completing Book One, I find many similarities between Rushdie and Kurt Vonnegut. Rushdie is the wordier of the two with this novel running about 530 pages but both look at life with that wonderful twinkle in their eyes. One can’t help but enjoy the way they acknowledge the absurdity and amusement they find as they observe and write about life.

Check out next week and I’ll (hopefully) post about Book Two. There are three Books in case anyone is wondering.