BEWARE OF SURVEY CONCLUSIONS

Relying on survey results alone can be dangerous. One paper I worked for launched a very successful Sunday edition after a survey had told them, Don’t do it, it will be a disaster. Instead, the publisher trusted her gut – and won.

Around the same time, when Doonesbury was the hottest comic strip across the country, another paper’s survey told them it was the most hated item in the paper. Fortunately, another survey found that it was also the most popular.

I’ve learned to regard an intensity factor – not just whether something is popular, but how high in ranks on a scale. Yes, in those days, everybody read Peanuts, when you were looking at your top ten comics, but when you weighted for top-three intensity, it was easily topped by Garfield, Far Side, and Cathy.

So when it comes down to most hated or most loved, if you listen to the complaints, you turn boring and bland. There’s nothing to excite anyone.

I can look to symphonic programming with the same message. Yes, works by living composers upset a lot of listeners. But when you rely on the chestnut classics, you quickly turn stale.

EARLIER OWNERS AND THEIR IMPRINT

Every time we undertake another repair or remodeling project with our old house, I’m reminded why I don’t do it myself. Yes, I’ll assist our carpenter/electrician or even keep an eyeball on the plumbers, but the earlier work we encounter always presents something inexplicable.

When we were stripping the walls and ceiling of the kitchen, for instance, Rick looked up and said, “I don’t like that.”

“Don’t like what?” I replied, looking at the weird angles of the two-by-fours running to the ridgeline. I could have as easily said, “Now what?”

“The roof’s not attached to the walls,” he replied. Oh? We both calculated it had been that way eighty years or so, however miraculously. “I’ll do what I can to strap it down.”

It’s a long list, actually, of guys who thought they knew how to fix things. But they weren’t pros or even skilled. Makes me wonder about a lot of the construction guys at work today. So I’ve become ever so grateful to turn to people who are truly capable. The best ones are worth every penny.

BEWARE OF UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES

Reporters and editors live in dread of accidentally publishing a lewd expression. It’s not just the list of four-letter words themselves or the inevitable typographical errors. (You know, the embarrassing “pubic” for “public.”) The innocent double-meaning can be the worst. The famous “Colonel Screws guest at banquet” headline that went through five or six editions before getting caught. Or the caption for the Supreme Court justice about to climb the staircase to a second-floor dinner: “Justice Douglas prepares to mount women” instead of “mount stairs with women.”

As one of our colleagues would remind us, quoting one of his mentors, “It takes a dirty mind to put out a clean newspaper.”

(Oh, the stories we could tell.)

BOBHOUSES

100_6739

Alton Bay on Lake Winnipesaukee is a popular site for bobhouses each winter.
Alton Bay on Lake Winnipesaukee is a popular site for bobhouses each winter.

When they lived way up in Maine, with a large lake just down their road, I remember hearing Eric tell about the morning he looked out the window and saw a traffic jam. Miles and miles from the nearest traffic light, here were bumper to bumper pickup trucks heading to and from the lake. Soon, he realized they were removing their bobhouses before the ice melted.

Bobhouses, of course, are part of the male culture of northern New England and many other frozen parts of the world. Since I don’t fish, no matter how much I admire fly fishermen and their skills, I really don’t appreciate the special savvy of landing one’s meal from under the ice. You can do it, of course, by drilling a hole in the thickness underfoot and then sitting or standing out in the cold. But the really serious guys build or buy their own little houses for the tradition – some are quite basic, while others, I’m told, come with TVs and Web connections. Still, I’m curious about what draws men from their warm homes to spend long days or evenings in a very cold environment. One of the answers is that it’s an excuse to drink with your buddies. Another is that it’s just to get away from the women. Except that it turns out some very adventurous women join in on the expedition. Are the fresh fish really worth this much effort?

Even so, that afternoon, Eric looked out again and saw another traffic jam, this time with trailers hauling their boats to the water. Presumably for more fishing.

How did they know this was the day the ice would go? What clues am I missing?

DEAREST MADAMOISELLE, LOVELY AND EVER CHARMING

As I said at the time: Hey! Somewhere along the line, the Postal Service lost a letter, it seems. At any rate, I’ve been wondering about you, how you’re doing, whether you decided to run off to New Mexico or Arizona and start having babies one-two-three or whatever. Even whether I’d said something that offended terribly. (So much for self-esteem, right?)

At least, thanks to the wonders of Computer Era (or, too often, Computer Error) I be able (that, I’m told, reflects Chicago schooling regarding the conjugation of the verb to be) to resurrect my last letter to you. Is this the one you responded to, meaning I never got your last letter? Or did you not get this one? And the poems in the new Indigo, um,  are they the two you didn’t know you had or, surprise, are they the ones I sent in July? Mysteries, mysteries!

At any rate, I’m anxiously awaiting the new issue – and all the news – and maybe even the missing letter!

On this end, to update from what’s there: Am still waiting for the chapbook … the usual unexpected delays and complications; in this case, a near-fatal blood clot suffered by the editor’s wife.

As you can see, I’m in the midst of a major computer conversion – from a fourteen-year-old XPC II system and nearly 300 five-and-a-quarter-inch floppy disks (Word Perfect 4.1) to a 6.4-gigabyte Pentium II Windows 98 Word 97 unit with both HP scanner and inkjet printer. It’s taking much longer than I anticipated; am still not on-line (one step at a time!) It’s like household he-man repairs and remodeling: everything takes three times longer than you believe it will, should, or can. Just ask your Italian father: if he’s anything like my ex-father-in-law, the one I miss greatly, these jobs are just that. (One of Sam’s great lessons to me, by the way: be sure to leave something undone for tomorrow!)

So I built, from kits, a new credenza and hutch, plus a “utilities cart,” projects that proved the timing theory: the credenza that took the salesman two hours to assemble took me six or eight, in part because the instructions are written in three languages but proficient, from what I could determine, in none. Ditto for the printed illustrations. Then, when the electronic goodies came, there were all the boxes to unpack and the new wiring to figure out (and whatever you need for the big rebates seems to get lost with the trash). Guess I’ll never purchase again where there’s a rebate involved! Just give me the discount, now! To say nothing of the software to install, nearly wrecking my Windows 98 in the process. (A Sunday morning phone call to Hewlett Packard nearly averted that!) At least much of the software installation is so much easier than it was a decade ago! My computer guru, the one I’ve “hired” for a bottle of Jim Beam or Jack Daniels, has been a big help, dropping on me a stack of magazines that could be used instead as the coffee table; his real challenge is in rigging the system that will allow me to convert and transfer a dozen or so novels and tons of other writings from the old system to the new. All this must seem foreign to you, who appear so much at ease with stylish desktop publishing! (So when did you first delve into cyberland – and desktop and all of the great touches you display?)

Hmm, that’s interesting, the date on the page break and all. One more thing to figure out, eventually – modifying these damn templates to my own style! (Spent a couple of hours a few weeks ago trying to do that, only to finally learn I couldn’t do it – see now there are other ways to go about it, thanks to a $40 book that tells me what Microsoft’s can’t.)

Did get away for a week in a small cabin in the Maine woods – no heat and no glass in the windows, but there was a fireplace as well as sliding shutters across the screened windows: good thing, too, with the nights getting down to freezing! Snuggled in with a stack of novels to read, learned to canoe solo on the five-mile-long lake and winding river, and even drafted some decent poetry.

*   *   *

How long ago all that seems! Well, it does come from a few years before I acquired the barn and everything that’s gone with it … including a great wife and family. Which makes it ancient history, indeed, even without the computer updates.

ANOTHER PROMISCUOUS READER

I had thought the phrase “promiscuous reader” originated with Virginia Woolf to describe someone who reads widely and passionately – even the sides of breakfast cereal boxes – but now fail to find it. (So much for relying on memory.) Instead, she left us The Common Reader, itself drawing on Dr. Samuel Johnson’s phrase in his “Life of Gray,” where he bellows, “I rejoice to concur with the common reader; for by the common sense of readers, uncorrupted by literary prejudices, after all the refinements of subtlety and the dogmatism of learning, must be finally decided all claim to poetical honors.” Woolf, of course, takes Johnson to task as she peruses her own wide range of literature, while Johnson, in that cruel twist of fate, exists almost exclusively in the realm of university English literature departments.

I think, too, of a girlfriend’s reaction the first time she entered my apartment and saw the rows of peach lugs displaying my collected books along one wall: “Wow, you’ve read all these?” Well, mostly, I probably replied, silently realizing there would be some serious differences here. Looking back, I see how many more volumes had slipped away – in the divorce, to other lovers – or simply been borrowed and never returned. (The lugs, by the way, were inspired by a description in Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums – the orchard no longer used apple crates, but the wooden peach lugs were still available.)

On the other hand, you may be one of those who enters a home and immediately heads for the shelves to see what the host reads – or even plays on the CD or phonograph. As my ledger of readings demonstrates, the spines of the volumes can say a lot about a person. Besides, the paradox of books and magazines is that they dwell in our private experiences, yet also engage in a dialogue, often across decades or even centuries. Sometimes we even find others whose readings overlap and can speak together of our travels. At the moment, I’m beginning to feel like an open book.

All the same, here’s hoping you enjoy my shelves, such as they are. And thanks to those of you who have already weighed in.

100_6810

FROM ONCE UPON A TIME TO HAPPILY EVER AFTER

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Maria Tatar, ed.: The Annotated Brothers Grimm. As one who’s come to treasure the grittier sides of both Native American mythology and Biblical texts, I’ve long wondered about the earlier versions of the stories collected by the Grimm brothers and, as the notes to this volume also discuss, their French parallel Charles Perrault, especially with his Mother Goose. At last we’re getting glimpses into those unsanitized roots, in large part thanks to the work of Tatar and others. The introductory pages by her and A.S. Byatt make the volume worthwhile on their own, as they examine the fine line between folktales and mythology and recognize that these are really wonder tales, full of magic and harsh reality, a kaleidoscope of rapid presentation where fairies rarely have a role. The mentions of versions having Gretel as a trickster, Rampunzel as not realizing her weight gain is pregnancy, Little Red Riding Hood performing a seductive striptease, Snow White’s pricked finger blood as her menstruating or deflowering all add powerfully, as does the sense of polyphony in the overlapping voices. Although reading all of these close together can be a bit much, it does allow the patterns to emerge: sibling rivalries where the youngest and seemingly dumbest child is in reality blessed, and so on. As for the surrounding forest, where is it in the urban reality? The ghetto? The cellar under the apartment house? The subway?  Another volume I’ll be returning to frequently.
  • Philip Pullman: Fairy Tales From the Brothers Grimm. Reading Pullman second gives the astute reader a sense of what a translator can add or omit. As a famed writer himself, he admits to taking liberties at times, drawing on similar tales and the like. You can see the differences from the very outset, with “The Frog King, or Iron Heinrich,” which Tatar begins, “Once upon a time, when wishes still came true,” versus Pullman’s “In olden times, when wishing still worked …” His translation is often more direct and less tradition-bound, and often has a deft detail or insight that is simply brilliant.
  • Nicholson Baker: The Size of Thoughts, U and I, and A Box of Matches. Back in high school, hearing a teacher proclaim that all fiction is based on conflict, set a challenge for me: can a novel work without any essential conflict? Baker comes close here with his Box of Matches, set as daily reflections before sunrise one January, as he lights a fire in his fireplace (hence the matches) and drinks coffee — the closest he comes to conflict, in fact, may be the struggle of making coffee in the dark, a consequence of his decision to keep the lights off. Lovely meanderings through the minutia of daily living. U and I is his notorious paean to John Updike, full of deliberate misquotes that reflect the ways of time on the memory and wonderful confessions on the joys of reading and the trials of writing. (I’m happy to see I’m not the only writer who has a lifelong admiration for a great model, or at least an adult lifelong admiration.) The Size of Thoughts, meanwhile, is the perfect volume to end this month’s collection of readings. Each of its quite varied essays follows a topic through a wandering net based on thinking itself. Of special importance are his pieces on the loss of learning that occurred when university libraries junked their card catalogs and his 148-page investigation of the other meanings of “lumber” as they evolved in the antiquity of English poetry. As the second essay begins, “Each thought has a size, and most are about three feet tall, with the level of complexity of a lawnmower engine, or a cigarette lighter, or those tubes of toothpaste that, by mingling several hidden pastes and gels, create a pleasantly striped product.” If you’ve sensed something similar emerging through this month’s discussion, just remember, The Size of Thoughts mentions many, many fine books in passing. Just in case you’re ready to read more.

100_6973

OF SPRAWLING SYMPHONIES AND MUDDLING

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries. OK, the first one’s not a book, apart from the liner notes. But it’s still a major undertaking:

  • Gunter Wand conducts Bruckner, the nine symphonies: Listening to these in sequence close together discloses how little the composer grew from the first to last work. They become bombastic fanfares over wavering strings, and heavy footed. Only in No. 8 does he use harps, and then three of them. Despite all of the religious impulse others find in these works, I find them postured, with a vengeful, magisterial deity rather than the blissful radiance I feel in worship. While I have 3, 7, and 9 on vinyl, I am surprised how much of the others I recognize, at least in certain passages. So this has been an instructive exercise, especially in its unintended conjunction with Augustine.
  • Warren Johnson: Meddling Toward Frugality. An interesting 1978 volume from Sierra Club Books that is in many ways dated, especially in its expectations of decentralization and increasing local control, much of his overall thesis remains intriguing. His failure to anticipate the impact of globalization, computerization, and the wealth shift to the wealthiest Americans skewers his predictions, yet his expectations of lower worker income is bearing out (despite higher productivity!). His interpretation of muddling as positive, and demonstrated in both corporate and political decision-making, is illuminating. On a more personal note, I appreciate his interpretation of the Eden story as yet one more layer of wisdom: “The Biblical legend of the expulsion from the Garden of Eden seems clearly to describe the invention of agriculture. The tree of knowledge was the knowledge of agriculture: ‘The tree was good for food,’ and the woman took the first step – ‘She took the fruit thereof and did eat’ (Genesis 3:60). The penalty was the expulsion from the Garden [of the hunter-gatherer society] and ‘In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread’ (Genesis 3:19). Most important, it was irreducible. Once the knowledge had been gained and populations had risen above the carrying capacity of the hunter and gatherer, there was no turning back. The expulsion from the Garden was final. … Mankind would henceforth live in an intimate relationship with the soil.”

100_6960

FROM SHERHERAZADE TO THE PARTHENON AND COYOTE

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Fatema Mernissi: Scheherazade Goes West: Different Cultures, Different Harems. Puzzled by the smirks of Western men whenever she mentioned harem, this Moroccan Islamic feminist launches into an attempt to understand the differences between Islamic male-female dynamics and those of the West. She draws heavily on the stories of Scheherazade and painting, noting what is emphasized East or West. Along the way, she presents interesting insights into Muslim life, including the “secret” side of the feminine, often rural, traditions where forbidden teachings continue. I find this a provocative book, good for launching further discourse. Where I think she misses the mark is in her failure to comprehend the harem as pure fantasy, one that may be more about power and wealth – and pure leisure – than about sex. In the West, multiple sexual partners (other than prostitutes) was essentially limited to the upper (ruling) class – a mistress, at that, rather than a panoply; sex itself, according to Roman Catholic teaching, was not for pleasure, unlike that of the harem fantasy (Mernissi does write of the pleasures of the public bath, noting how often bathing was proscribed through European history); furthermore, for many Western men, having sufficient freedom of time and wealth to indulge in a harem would be foreign to their thinking – work before pleasure. Not until Hugh Hefner do we see anything remotely resembling the harem fantasy, and he and his empire have always been somewhat outside propriety. I sense that major difficulties arise in the fallacy of trying to compare a powerful male with a harem to an average male anywhere; this is paralleled by trying to celebrate the heroic wife among many, rather than the average wife trapped within the system. More telling, as she reflects, would be the insights of artists’ wives, knowing their husbands were painting nudes.
  • Barbara Jane Reyes: Poeta en San Francisco (poems). A blazing collection of mostly prose-poems by a Filipina-American, often seemingly free-association, often multilingual, often Catholic-anti-Catholic (blasphemous within faith?), often addressing the aftermath of war, racism, sexism from ghetto streets, often full of blame for the other. All the same, full of juice. Passionate. Inflammatory, priming me with a desire to write, as well.
  • Ellen Cooney: Gum Ball Hill. This novel attempts to recreate the tensions in a Maine community just outside York during leading up to and through the Revolutionary War. It has had me looking up some of the York and Dover experiences during the King Phillip’s War period, and considering this place as frontier through a difficult century.
  • Damon D. Hickey: The Cross of Plainness: A Century of Conservative Quakerism in North Carolina (issue of The Southern Friend, 2005). Excellent presentation of Wilburite Quakerism focused on a single Meeting, now laid down. Solid quotations and material for future writing.
  • Robert Bowie Johnson Jr.: The Parthenon Code. Examining the friezes of the Parthenon, the author argues that they present the other side of the Genesis story – one focusing on the Serpent and the line of Cain/Kain, having the Creator pushed out of the scene entirely, and showing Noah/Nereus being overcome by the human will of Poseidon and his kin. The work of an impassioned amateur, lacking in footnoted documentation, is nonetheless provocative and intriguing. I wish he had acknowledged that the Genesis stories themselves are drawn from widespread Middle Eastern mythology, which means that the Greeks might also be showing themselves overcoming Babylonian might, rather than a small and insignificant Hebrew philosophy per se. On the other hand, if the Greek account celebrates the victorious and conquering human, the Jewish account also seems to side with the underdog! Our God favors the powerless!
  • Grandfather Duncan Sings-Alone: Sprinting Backwards to God. Part Coyote tales, mostly memoir, an easy-to-read and often humorous account of a Cherokee half-breed’s spiritual journey from preacher kid to Disciples of Christ pastor to Native healer and pipe-carrier. Candid insights into the failure of his four marriages. (His father was Scottish background.) Includes some embarrassingly purple verse by his current wife. Helpful glossary.
  • Howard Norman: The Northern Lights. In this, his inaugural novel, Norman follows a young boy through his trials in the Canadian North and finally with his mother running The Northern Lights movie house in Toronto. Some interesting insights along the way, but not altogether satisfying from my perspective. The structure, for instance, seems flimsy and the conclusions don’t really fit … too much deus et machina for me.
  • John Canaday: Invisible World. Poems drawn from the year he spent in Jordan, tutoring the children of King Hussein and Queen Noor. I wouldn’t have known, however, from the poems themselves his reason for living in an Islamic nation, only that these reflect his attempt to understand the place and culture.
  • Melissa Jayne Fawcett: Medicine Trail: The Life and Lessons of Gladys Tantaquidgeon. A small, beautiful volume that includes telling blocks of quotations from the Mohegan matriarch responsible for bringing many of her people’s old ways into the twenty-first century. As the author notes, less is known about the New England Indians than about those anywhere else – and this is a valuable piece in that gaping puzzle.

100_6801

FROM BIRDING BY EAR TO GROWING OLDER, WITH OR WITHOUT CHOPSTICKS

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Peterson Field Guides: Birding by Ear (booklet and audio tapes). Tweet! (OK, I still can’t identify most birds by their singing. Maybe I just don’t know the words?)
  • Stephan Yafa: Big Cotton. Exploration of the impact of another major commodity on world economies and politics. In line with Salt, Cod, Honey, even the fur and tusks that Farley Mowett has pursued.
  • E. Digby Baltzell: Puritan Boston and Quaker Philadelphia. A disturbing comparison of the legacy of two Colonial cities founded on faith. Baltzell’s reliance on High Society and family dynasties gives the work its own twist, so that families that moved away from either city vanish from sight, no matter their continuing contributions to society. Still, many of his conclusions are also disturbing, especially from a Friends’ perspective.
  • Henry David Thoreau: A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. A surprising amount of bad poetry here, as well as very little observation of what’s right before him. I find myself dismissing Thoreau as a suburban naturalist, more an antecedent to Kerouac than, say, Snyder.
  • Tom Montag: Kissing Poetry’s Sister. Includes looks at creative nonfiction as a genre. He’s another middle-aged poet who has continued to write in relative obscurity while being employed in non-teaching positions.
  • Elizabeth Lyon: The Sell Your Novel Toolkit. Had this one sitting on my shelf all along, thinking it was another self-marketing guide for once the work was published. Instead, it turns out to have in-depth sections on query letters, synopsis/outline presentations, landing an agent, and the like. As a result, I have reworked all of my materials for the three novels I’m pitching – even renaming two of them. Now, let’s see if it does the trick.
  • Victoria Abbott Riccard: Untangling Chopsticks. A young woman from New England moves to Kyoto to master the cooking and presentation of food that accompanies tea-ceremony. Along the way, she becomes adept in a culture where she would always be an outsider, even after a lifetime. Includes recipes.
  • Tom Plummer: Second Wind, Variations on a Theme of Growing Older. Pleasant essays more appropriate to newspaper or magazine columns, by an understated Mormon.

100_6790