Two Massive Tomes

My sister Lydia usually reads several books at a time.  I may have a book of poetry on my coffeetable that I'll read to break up a long novel or book, but I usually just concentrate on one book, preferring to lose myself in that one world and give it my full attention.

For a change, though, I decided to tackle both the 1200+-page history Gotham by Burrows and Wallace, and the 800+-page novel NewYork by Edward Rutherfurd.  I'm coordinating the chapters by date, i.e., I'll read the history of New York through a certain date, and then the novel through that same time span.  It's easy to link the two because Rutherfurd's chapters are subtitled by date, and the massive history can easily be stopped when I reach the stopping end of an era, so to speak.  Gotham ends in 1898, while the novel takes us through the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center.

What's interesting about doing the reading this way is seeing how the novelist makes the historical record come alive (although Gotham wasn't his only source).  We care about these characters.  What made one man or woman a Loyalist and others Patriots?  The fictional characters interact with historical ones like Ben Franklin and George Washington.

We follow several families through the generations, with certain talismans being passed down from one to the next.  The most poignant thread was that of the wampum belt, which we encounter toward the beginning of the novel, and which ends up being worn (and disintegrates) during the World Trade Center attacks.

Burrows and Wallace's writing, although like a textbook, is not dry.  The biggest difficulty I had with it was the weight of the book itself - how to hold it without making dents in my legs or ending up with aching wrists! 

I discovered many facts about New York City that were unknown to me before this reading, such as the fact that NYC was one of the largest slaveholding sites, fighting long and hard against abolition, and that NYC was our first capitol.  Of great interest to me was reading about the history of the publishing industry, how it began and evolved.  The footnotes were as interesting as the text - here's a sample, regarding the sewing industry:

"Singer introduced a family machine in 1856.  Home sales were sluggish at first, until Singer offered them at half price to ministers' wives and to sewing societies connected with churches, after which sales to "respectable" women picked up. . ."

The Draft Riots of 1863 detail the lynching and burning of blacks.  This is but one of the horrifyingly violent episodes in NYC's history, and one of Rutherford's characters, whose family we've come to care about, is a victim of this horror.

There's so much here - women's history, mercantile history, wars and battles and greed and generosity, writers and artists, plagues and inventions, common sense and blindness.  As I love the intensity, excitement, bustle and uniqueness of our most exciting city, it was a pleasure to discover its history.  I was touched that Rutherfurd ended his novel shortly after one of his characters visits Strawberry Fields, and then finds out that a Freedom Tower is to be erected at Ground Zero.  His character says: 

"That Strawberry Fields garden he'd come from, and the Freedom Tower he'd been thinking of:  taken together, didn't they contain the two words that said it all about this city, the two words that really mattered?  It seemed to him that they did.  Two words:  the one an invitation, the other an ideal, an adventure, a necessity.  'Imagine' said the garden.  'Freedom' said the tower.  Imagine freedom.  That was the spirit, the message of this city he loved."

It was an interesting experiment on my part, tackling these two books this way, and I'm glad I did it.  I'd recommend this method to anyone, but you may want to purchase a lapdesk first. . .

Please Go to "Please Give"

My Aunt Moogs conscientiously made small donations to many different charities; my mom does the same; I continue to do so despite being unemployed.  The desire to support causes we believe in (and believing that our doing so helps) runs in the family.  So I could identify with Kate's (Catherine Keener's) guilt and angst in Nicole Holofcener's Please Give, now playing at the 19th Street (Civic Little) Theatre in Allentown, at 7:30 tonight through Thursday.

The question is:  Where does it stop?  Do our small donations make a dent in the suffering all around us?  Are our assumptions about charities valid?  Once we start giving, the pleas quickly become a deluge.  Are we better off making one lump-sum donation to a single cause?  Do we stop giving and worry about ourselves?  Or do we just do what we can and try not to lose sleep over all that's undone?

In this film, Kate (Catherine Keener) wonders how to justify a purchase of expensive jeans for her daughter when people on the street below her (lovely and amazing) apartment freeze and go hungry.  And how does she justify making a profit re-selling old furniture at a huge mark-up, purchased from sellers ignorant as to its value -- does she tell them, and watch her own livelihood disappear?  Or learn to live with the guilt?

Nichole Holofcener has an ear for the way real people talk and act, especially women experiencing various degrees of crisis or stasis.  She presents her characters as they are, leaving us to judge them, as she does not.  Some scenes are uncomfortable to watch, as when Kate's daughter Abby receives a facial and her pimples are literally squeezed, but we cringe as well when Kate attempts to give her restaurant leftovers to an elderly gentleman outside a restaurant.  He's waiting in line to be seated, and Kate's and her family's embarrassment at her mistaking him for homeless is palpable.  This kind of discomfort -- the recognition it sparks and the questions it raises -- is one of the reasons film can have such power to move us.

The well-to-do vintage furniture store owners Kate (Catherine Keener) and Alex (Oliver Platt) have arrangements to purchase (or have already purchased) the apartment next-door.  This apartment is presently occupied by an elderly woman (Ann Morgan Guilbert as Andra), grandmother to Mary (callous) and Rebecca (kind and dutiful, played by Rebecca Hall, so beautiful in Vicky Christina Barcelona).  Kate and Alex can't expand into the apartment next door until Andra dies.  They wonder and worry how this agreed-upon transaction appears to Andra and her granddaughters, and how their friendly (and sometimes calculated) overtures appear.  The granddaughters don't seem bothered by the arrangement.  And crotchety Andra?  There are indications that she may not be too batty to be unoffended. 

The acting is splendid all around.  Sarah Steele deserves a Supporting Actress nomination for her role as Abby, accurately and perceptively capturing the surface concerns (the desire for expensive jeans), the backtalk, and the depth of a smart 15-year-old girl.  During the facial scene mentioned above, her complexion and expression minutely change as she listens to offhand news from Mary (Amanda Peet) that she realizes holds more import than her young heart can bear.  I was happily surprised to see Sarah Vowell in a small part as one of Kate's store patrons. 

The Roches "No Shoes" perfectly opened the film, a perfect fit in tone and content -- "I complained that I had nothing left to lose/And then I met a manWho had no shoes... "

Rah Rah for the Ri Ra Pub!

Why is the Tropicana casino in Atlantic City such a maze?  My brother says casinos are deliberately designed that way so that you're enticed to gamble at every turn.  We all surely got our exercise over the few days we were there.  After winding our way past the fountain and the ceiling palm fans, we found the Ri Ra (sorry, can't seem to add accents to this font) to get something more substantial than Boardwalk food.

There was a soccer game in progress on several big-TV screens in this Irish pub, the fans openly expressing their enthusiasm with cheers and moans when one of the players got kicked in the nose.  My brother used to play soccer, so was into it.  Despite some annoying distractions, I relished my lunch.

Everyone was pleased with their food here, from kids to parents to grandmother.  I ordered a Reuben (yes, I know, I had one in an earlier blog, but I love them) and it was, I think, the best one I've ever had, due in large part to the delicious thick bread that was used to enclose lots of lean corned beef and the Ri Ra special sauce.  I didn't feel guilty, as I knew I'd make up for the ingestion of so many calories with plenty of walking later.  Plus, aren't vacations made for guilt-free indulging?

A friend had recommended the Fiesta buffet, which we tried on a later night (I would have foregone the mediocre seafood there for the melt-in-your-mouth pot roast once I discovered it on second go-round). I think it was unanimous that we enjoyed the Ri Ra more; in fact, most of us returned there before we left for home and had another delicious lunch.

So if you're in Atlantic City and near the Tropicana, try the Ri Ra.  It's on the second floor in the Havana Tower.  I had hoped to try the Cuban restaurant also, but couldn't get anyone else to accompany me.

Now I'm home again, with food in the house, and tried a new curried chicken recipe last night that turned out great, from the Penzey's Spices catalogue.  This week:  a BBQ'd brisket, which makes lots of leftovers.  It always feels good to be cooking again after vacation food.  Since I ignored the temptations to gambleat every turn of the maze, I came home able to afford food despite the continuing unemployment situation.  I must eat, musn't  I?  So must we all, and enjoy it as much as we can.