Mouth Sounds and Movie Quotes

I have several friends who can make amazing noises come out of their mouths. I’ve also got a bunch of friends who occasionally live life through the lens of movie quotes or TV quotes.

Why do men do these things?

Many of my friends quote liberally from the Simpsons. Now, I think the Simpsons are funny. But I’ve never found it to be the cultural barometer that my friends have. Just different tastes, I suppose. But I’m guilty of this too. I love to bring out a quote from Fletch or Blues Brothers or Animal House when appropriate. I have stolen words from a variety of people from Robin Williams to Steve Martin to Steven Wright to The Famous Mysterious Actor and adjusted them to make them my own.

One of my friends can make extremely accurate animal sounds; monkeys and even a bear. To see him do this is frightening as the bear sound is very physical. Another friend makes super realistic bird sounds and phone sounds. So much so that when you’re out at a crowded restaurant he’ll send out a ring and people all around check their cell phones. It’s super harmless fun. I, of course, will roar like a Wookiee from time to time. Go figure.

But why do we do these things?

There’s a theory that men and women seek out different things from media: books and movies. The theory goes that women read to discover the dynamics of relationships. How people communicate and relate. The theory also states that men seek out role models and heroes. They’re looking for a guide to life and how to live it.

As I’ve thought about this I don’t disagree with it. Just about every guy I know watches a movie or reads and tries to identify with the character. If they find something appealing in the character they like the book or movie. If they don’t find some redeeming quality then they’ll likely have a poorer opinion, even if the other elements we’re fine.

I think that’s why I struggled with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. I did not find anything to absorb from the main character.

But I’m pretty sure it’s why we quote from movies. We want to be that funny guy. That heroic guy. Using their words allows us to live their life, just a little bit.

I’m not sure why we make the sounds, though. Or even why I associate the two.

B!

The Next Book...

Several days ago I asked my readers to pick a number between one and eight. I received six entries with an average of 4.33. That rounds to four for our use here.

I inserted a small card with numbers ranging from one to eight inside the cover of each of the remaining books. These were randomized and I had no knowledge of which book contained which number until just now.

Book number four is....

A History Of The World In 10 1/2 Chapters by Julian Barnes. Recommended by Trask.

I'll continue to do this until I've read all the books on the list. I may choose to insert one of my own from time to time (see Steve Martin) but I hope to complete all eight before too many months conclude.

Happy reading.

B!

BORN STANDING UP by Steve Martin

I love Steve Martin. He was a significant influence on me as a kid. He had a strange, goofy style wrapped up in a clean white gabardine suit. He was all about the contradiction like that. He was one of the first comedians where I heard curse words that were funny rather than said in anger. Somehow that made them more acceptable.

I’ve just finished his (auto)biography. He doesn’t refer to it as a true autobiography because he perceives his stand-up persona as someone else. Someone he outgrew. The book is all about the growth of his act. The dedication to it. The work. The fears. The highs and the lows. What made him want to be a magician, then a comic, then an actor.

It doesn’t involve his acting and writing career much at all, its focus is on his stand up career. Which, both directly and indirectly, is about his father.

The book is a quick read at 204 not very cluttered pages. It’s funny and nostalgic and made me feel good while it also allowed me to feel Martin’s pain. Especially the final chapters about his parents. The book itself is structured like a good joke. Set up, set up, set up and then the punchline. Except the punchline isn’t funny. It’s poignant and compelling.

Because of this the book is uneven at first read. But knowing the revelations at the end I imagine that a second read will provide greater understanding of Steve Martin the man, as well as the comic.

I highly recommend this book for anybody who has or had a father. Um. That means you.

B!

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

It’s been a long time since I wrote any sort of book review/book report. I’m currently procrastinating between exercising and cleaning the house so how better to justify such delay than by writing and being productive in some fashion.

Plus, I finished the book this morning about 6:30am so it’s still fresh in my mind.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is an adventure in writing if not always in reading. It’s translated from Japanese so some of its oddities might be a function of that but it maintains an ethereal quality. The words float through their existence on the page. Many reviewers describe it as dreamlike and that’s not an unacceptable term, but it may not be the best description.

I liked this novel. It’s not a typical story, that’s for sure. The hero, if you can call him that, Toru Okada is at a crossroads in his life. He’s unemployed. His marriage is about to surprisingly fail. His cat is missing. When the story starts to unfold it gets murky among a cast of unusual, mysterious people and influences on Okada. I wanted to like Okada, but he’s not a hero in the classical sense. He allows far too much to happen to him, never exerting control or his own influence. So, I had a hard time finding sympathy for him or even any level of genuine interest. So, I have to say this part of the novel left me wanting.

But the weave of plots (or lack of plots), historical perspectives on war, mystery of dreams and the nature of existence are worth the read. This is where Murakami hits it. It’s a decent sized novel at over 600 pages and by the time you are 100 pages in you have no idea what is real and what is fantasy. And that appears to be the real point of the book: perspective, power, dreams, reality, pain, loss and shame. The topics that sit beneath the story are more compelling than the characters.

Part of this is that we get very little into the actual motivations of the characters. Their actions don’t always coincide with what we do know of them. It is probably my own predisposition for character driven stories that makes me want more here. But too many mysteries are left unexplained or even unexplored. That’s too bad, because I think there are interesting stories there. The few details that we do get of the strange cast of characters are fascinating bits but they are just too short and fleeting.

Regardless, I can recommend this novel. I think Murakami achieves what he wanted and, in the end, that’s the reason for him to write it. Some people will love it (and do love it) and others, like me, will appreciate a good portion of it but wish there were a few more answers rather than so many remaining questions.

B!

"Hello Insomnia, Can't Say I'm Pleased To Meet You."

I can’t sleep.

I’ve never been an eight-hours a night kind of guy. I function pretty well on six hours or so. But, and this has been ongoing for a good long time, I can’t seem to sleep more than three or four hours straight anymore. Maybe I’m too light of a sleeper. Maybe I snore and wake myself up. Not sure. But it’s just past 2:00 am, rest seems distant, net-surfing has left me cold, my iPod is circling through Matthew Sweet, XTC, Elliott Smith, Bob Mould and The Who, and I’m now up reading.

Reading.

I’m almost done with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. I still don’t know what to make of it. Comparisons to Pynchon (I’ve read one or two of his works) seem pretty accurate. There’s a detachment from reality that pervades the majority of this novel. It’s referred to as dream like but that’s too simple a term. It’s bizarre without being off-putting. I’m not convinced that anything in this is meant to be real. It has fleetingly interesting characters. But it’s not a page turner. It doesn’t make me leap to the next chapter wondering what is going to happen to our hero next. Well, because he’s no hero. He barely exists. Maybe that’s the point.

Regardless, reading is a good thing. I think it helps my writing. It certainly gives my mind plenty to think about and work through. This actually may not be good for the insomnia. Might have to re-think that. It’s a good thing I don’t have to work tomorrow/today.

But, what this really means is that I’ll need to start on a new book. This one has taken me much longer to complete than I originally expected, but it’s the second longest of the books on the list. The next should go quicker. Unless it’s that gigantic sci-fi tome on the shelf. Why are sci-fi and fantasy books almost always 900-plus pages? And my brother wonders why I don’t choose to read those…

So, dear readers, I need each of you to comment on this post with a number from 1-8. This will help determine which book is next.

It’s up to you.

B!

From the Original Japanese

So, I've started on the first book of the triple trilogy recommended to me by my loyal readers.

With a double-blind random selection I am now toting around The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami. This novel is translated from Japanese which means it is not eligible to be the great American novel. I wonder if that makes it sad?

It got me thinking. I've read lots of translated masterpieces. Camus. Sartre. Homer. Dante. I tried to read all but Dante in their original language. Even as one who was pretty good at speaking French and understanding spoken French I was horrible in the area of reading French. I was a functionally French illiterate.

Now I'm working on this novel. Honestly, I'm not sure I've ever read anything translated from Japanese before. But, I will admit, even just two chapters in I am hooked. And I think part of it is the translation. Part of it is the rave reviews. But the novel has a nice flow to it and I can tell that I will enjoy it. I also have no idea where it is really heading. Also good to get me hooked.

If it had been up to me I would've probably started with a shorter novel. This one's 607 pages. But I think it will go quickly.

If the wind and rain continues tonight like it did last night I'll make some real headway on this novel. It was impossible to get any real sleep during Sunday night as the weather was severe enough to shake, rattle and roll right outside my window. Unreal amounts of water.

B!

Literary Update

Today I went to Powell's.

I used the morning hours to plan my attack at the city of books. I know that a list of books and authors isn't always preparation enough to tackle Powell's. So, I visited their website. I found each of the eight books I planned to purchase and cleverly located them in the proper Powell's room under the proper Powell's category. Once at the store I made very efficient use of my time with only the Roger Angell book being difficult to locate. But even it could not escape me and my Batman like detective skills.

Speaking of Batman. I owe the caped crusader some thanks. The 60's camp TV show was a staple of after-school viewing in my family. Stu and I would watch intently almost every day. I loved Batman. But when we would play act I never got to be Batman, rather I was Robin, the boy Wonder, and Stu donned the blue cape. But Batman's name was Bruce and he and I always had a connection that my brother and he never could. Cue evil laugh.

Bruce Wayne had a massive library at Wayne Manor. And within that library there was a bust of William Shakespeare. Stay with me here. Y'see, that bust's head was on a hinge and when lifted it would reveal the button that in turn revealed the batpoles behind the bookcases. Huge bookcases. So every afternoon as we were staring at the boob tube I was looking at the bard himself and staring at book, after book, after book.

My favorite book of all-time is my Riverside Shakespeare. It's the one enormous college text that I kept. It's not that I couldn't put it down or anything like that, it just feels like an important validation of my college experience. In some ways, it represents more to me than my diploma. In addition to being vital for anyone studying Shakespeare it is also a great desk, drafting table and doorstop. And it was Batman who introduced me to Shakespeare. Hence, the thanks.

I'm not the avid reader that I should be. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy great books. Even good books. But I have always had a difficult time making time for them. This has to change. In fact, if I'm going to tackle this literacy project it will change. I now have all nine of the books listed in the Literary thread from November. I bought all but Confederacy of Dunces as my housemate David had that on his shelf.

I've yet to decide which one to start with. How do you choose? Will one of the books take offense and shred the last of its pages so I never know the resolution? Jealousy could happen. I may just draw names from the hat. Fairer than a Presidential election if you ask me.

I bought the books today based almost entirely on price. While I prefer hardbound books they are vastly more expensive. Trade paperbacks are superior to a standard paperback so I did splurge a bit on The Floating Opera so I could have the more substantial heft. Paperbacks make me a bit sad, actually. There's just no way for a paperback to avoid having it's spine creased and curled. It instantly becomes damaged goods.

Some facts about the books:

Longest: 988 Pages, Pandora's Star

Shortest: 244 Pages, The Dharma Bums

Least expensive: $1.95, The Ginger Man

Most expensive: $24.95, The World Without Us

Oldest: 1955 The Ginger Man (also the oldest physical book-printed in 1979)

Newest: 2007 The World Without Us

Used: 6

New: 2

Not for sale in Canada: A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters

I love books. The feel of a book. The weight. Turning pages is such a satisfaction. They're all numbered. It gives you a reminder of your progress with every turn. I wish the feedback in some of my relationships was as clear. Yet, I know that every book has been at the sacrifice of a tree. It's the curse of the environmentalist. Every tree hugger I know makes huge sacrifices to live responsibly. But each of them loves books and has a massive library. Sort of like Batman. Ironic.

I also love Powell's. It's a bit crowded these days for my tastes, with a few too many of the self-absorbed wandering its stacks. But it is where the books are. The staff are very friendly and helpful. It just feels like Portland to me. I like that feeling. I also get a kick out of seeing people play with 'POD', the sculpture across Burnside. My friend, Pete Beeman, designed and built this massive thing of steel, springs and iron. It even has wheels. It's very shiny. Those are Pete's rules: Make it big. If you can't make it big make it shiny. If you can't make it shiny let it bleed. Or something like that. But I digress. The books.

So. Here we are. I am a bit intimidated by the pile, but I plan to start the first one on Monday during my lunch break. I'll try to keep you up to date on my progress. But not one page at a time.

B!

The Literary List

Here is the list so far.

The Ginger Man - Donleavy (Dave)
The Dharma Bums - Kerouac (NBorders)
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle - Murakami (Devlyn)
Pandora's Star - Hamilton (Ralph)
The World Without Us - Weisman (Whitney)
A History of The World in 10 1/2 Chapters - Barnes (Trask)
Let Me Finish - Angell (Pops)
A Confederacy of Dunces - Kennedy Toole (John Locke's Moron Cousin)
The Floating Opera - Barth (Lucas)

I'm going to Powell's next week. Feel free to make a suggestion of a book you've read in the last five years. I'll add it to my sparse library.

Start Making A Reader Today

SMART is a great program and I'm happy to say that my company supports it strongly. But this isn't about SMART, it's about me.

I need some books.

I am always impressed by my friends who read every piece of literature published (or seemingly do) and can remember the details and nuances with great clarity. Even quote eloquently at times. I can't seem to do that. It's a shame really.

See, I was an English Lit major in college. Granted, it was my fourth or fifth major, but it was still my major. And while I got decent grades I basically sucked at it. My classmates ran circles around me in understanding and clarity and depth of thought. But I fought on. Against the tide. I suppose a bit more application and study would've produced better results but I saved that for art class apparently. I once made a 16 panel piece of a banana done in 16 different mediums. My favorite was using a hole punch on black and yellow construction paper and gluing them in place. It ended up 3-D. I felt rather clever. But I digress.

I need some books.

I moved into a new house in July. My friend David had it built. It's a great house and we're having a blast being roommates and better friends again. Plus it's nice to be back in the actual city. But I don't have any books. My entire library, which consists mainly of a lot of pop fiction, crappy sci-fi, American Lit and comic books are in storage. I need some stories.

So, my challenge to you dear readers is to recommend me one book. A single tome that you've read in the last five years that will change my life. Change my outlook. Offer perspective. Or just entertain me. One book. Don't make me choose.

Once I've got your short list I'll hit Powell's (what a great way to occupy an afternoon) and start to fill the barren shelves.

We can do this. Together.

B!