Damned by Chuck Palahniuk [Book]

Madison is the thirteen-year-old daughter of a narcissistic film star and a billionaire. Abandoned at her Swiss boarding school over Christmas, she dies over the holiday, presumably of a marijuana overdose. The last thing she remembers is getting into a town car and falling asleep. Then she’s waking up in Hell. Literally. Madison soon finds that she shares a cell with a motley crew of young sinners: a cheerleader, a jock, a nerd, and a punk rocker, united by their doomed fate, like an afterschool detention for the damned. Together they form an odd coalition and march across the unspeakable landscape of Hell–full of used diapers, dandruff, WiFi blackout spots, evil historical figures, and one horrific call center–to confront the Devil himself.

– AMAZON

My thoughts:

I must begin this piece by clearly stating this:  There is absolutely so much to love about this book.  It is clever, original, and absolutely brilliant.  And though it may rank at the bottom of my favorites from Mr. Palahniuk, that is still sort of like being the least kind deed done by Gandhi or Dr. Martin Luther King among a plethora of amazing things done, right?

I originally intended for this line to be at the end of this piece, but decided that it must be made clear that I, like critics, readers and Portlanders alike, absolutely adore what Palahniuk has done, and even if a book is not “my favorite from him”, in no way makes this a bad book at all.  I’ve read some pretty shitty books.  But this is definitely not one of them.  I find it sort of ironic that I managed to read a Hemingway and Palahniuk book, one after another, and found them both to be my least favorite of their works.  In the simplest terms, and most convenient definitions (get it?), reading the words of folks like Hemingway or Palahniuk is like the old saying about pizza or sex: even if it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.  So, there I said it.  I can now continue on bashing the work of a legend who I could never even dream of being compared to, what with my constant grammatical errors and studious love for ending sentences with prepositions.

That being said, as if it hasn’t already, Damned wasn’t one of my favorite Palahniuk books.  That being said, again, I must also admit that I have never read Fight Club.  I know, it seems as though it is a must, as every book cover of one of his works states “author of Fight Club”, and it spawned the brilliant film directed by David Fincher and stars Mr. Angelina Jolie, Edward Furlong’s brother from American History X, the super hot, moody dude with really cool hair from My So Called Life, and Mr. Paradise By the Dashboard Light himself.  But, I simply have not gotten around to it.  But I have read much of Palahniuk’s work, enough to discover that the proverbial dick sucking that the critics give him every time he moves or blinks is all highly deserved.  The man is a genius with them words, and is obviously one of the finest novelists of our time.

But, Damned just wasn’t what I was expecting to hear from Chuck.  Sure it is clever and littered with a wonderfully new concept of what hell must look like, involves a brilliant cohesion of John Hughes and Dante in one, and evokes the idea that all sugar laced treats belong in hell (a theory in which I a can jump on board with).  There are so many beautiful things about this book, and as you would expect, it is highly controversial.  But, my major complaint is that Mr. Palahniuk seemed to be more focused on the controversy he is known to provoke, rather than emphasizing on the brilliant writing he is also widely known for.  I mean, this is the guy who once wrote a book about a former porn star who is beset upon the idea of setting the record for having the most dicks inserted in to her in one concurrent setting, and managed to make it a beautiful tale that was also sorrowful and almost tear jerking.  Therefore, the concept of a thirteen year old girl being sent to hell and going on an adventure should have been easy, right?  I don’t put the blame on Chuck himself, entirely.  The concept of “what is hell like” is one that has been played out time and time again.  Even as I look back on one of my favorite depictions of Hell, from Woody Allen’s film Deconstructing Harry, I find the concept of Billy Crystal being the devil and using air conditioning to “fuck up the ozone layer”, is now pretty corny, but hey, it was the 90’s!

I believe my real issue here is just how non-specific Palahniuk’s topic was in this book.  Specificity is his fucking gold mine.  His works are so strangely bizarre and original that a reader may find themselves thinking aloud, “How does he come up with this shit.  This is the man who came up with the concept of groups of average joe’s getting together to beat the shit out of each other and the idea of a man pretending to choke on his food in restaurants only to be saved by a patron saint who feels obliged to send the poor fool money for the rest of his life.  In fact, the only “typical” concepts I can imagine coming from Palahniuk in days passed would probably be in Tell All and Survivor.  Bitchy old actresses and plane crashes being the norm in the literary world that is.  Yet, he manages to put a science ficitony type twist to the end of all of these tales that is absolutely mind blowing.

Maybe that is the problem here.  The concept of living in hell is an open ended discussion that could go on for hours, which may have left our dear writer with far too much space to move around, when he is used to a more specific and cramp space to create.  And perhaps this is a reasonable explanation as to why there is actually a sequel to this book already on the shelves entitled Doomed.  I know that I will ultimately read this book as well despite my dissertation here about how I did not like this book.  I will read it not for the sake of redemption by Chuck that I’m certain he doesn’t feel he needs, but more for a continuation of his own unique and hilarious interpretation of the world of Hell.  As I previously stated, there just may have been too much space for Chuck to move around with using such an age old concept as Hell.  Therefore, a creative mind like Palahniuk could probably write more volumes about living in Hell than one person could enjoy in a lifetime.  Shit, when I consider the fact that Hell is as real as a place as Narnia or The Place of Dead Roads, the possibilities actually seem endless.  It is an empty canvas just waiting for Palahniuk to splash with paint made from the blood of the wicked.  And I will continue to respect his decisions to follow this path.  But, I might be waiting for him to move back to his old ways and means.

Note: 2014 is the first year for book reviews at Trainwreck’d Society.  We will be making a valiant effort to read and review at least 100 books.  This is review #3.  Be sure to stay in touch and be on the lookout for further reviews throughout 2014.  Be sure to let us know if we are falling behind.  For a complete list of book reviews, click HERE.  Enjoy!

Death in the Afternoon by Ernest Hemingway [Book]

Still considered one of the best books ever written about bullfighting, “Death in the Afternoon” is an impassioned look at the sport by one of its true aficionados. It reflects Hemingway’s conviction that bullfighting was more than mere sport and reveals a rich source of inspiration for his art. The unrivaled drama of bullfighting, with its rigorous combination of athleticism and artistry, and its requisite display of grace under pressure, ignited Hemingway’s imagination. Here he describes and explains the technical aspects of this dangerous ritual and “the emotional and spiritual intensity and pure classic beauty that can be produced by a man, an animal, and a piece of scarlet serge draped on a stick.” Seen through his eyes, bullfighting becomes a richly choreographed ballet, with performers who range from awkward amateurs to masters of great elegance and cunning.

A fascinating look at the history and grandeur of bullfighting, “Death in the Afternoon” is also a deeper contemplation of the nature of cowardice and bravery, sport and tragedy, and is enlivened throughout by Hemingway’s sharp commentary on life and literature.

– GOODREADS.COM

My thoughts:

If I had to choose three descriptive terms for Ernest Hemingway, it would be easy and they would be the following:  Genius, dignitary, and…..cocksman.  Undoubtedly, Hemingway is one of the greatest American figures in history.  His life and actions during his time have secured him a covenant spot in history as one of the most brilliant men to, frankly, ever exist.  And more importantly, he still personally remains to be the finest pen man of books that kids are forced to read in the public school system.  That is quite the statement for me, considering how much I fucking hated some of the books they chose for us to read.  (Seriously, of all the classic Steinbeck novels, we read The Pearl?)

That being said, Ernest Hemingway seemed to know everything there was to know about being a man.  Sexists as it might seem, that is what he was.  He was a man.  I know that when I read his words, I always seem to develop a desire for a good scotch (even though I don’t really know what “good scotch” is) and a massive flank steak of buffalo meat.  And at the same time, the man was an artist.  Like the Kerouacs and Keseys that would follow in his footsteps, he wrote about how he lived.  Therefore, it is no surprise that old Papa would know everything there is to know about bullfighting, which he has featured predominately in some of his earlier works, and that we would write a mostly instructional book about the subject that is still as relevant today as it was when it was written 80 years ago.

I don’t know anything about bullfighting.  I don’t know much about Spain.  Hell, I didn’t even know that this book existed until I found a copy of it in the audiobook section of my local library here in Spain.  But when I did find it, I was obviously intrigued.  I have been living in Spain just over a month now, and bullfights are definitely on my list of “things I just HAVE to see while in Spain”.  The concept of the sport is absolutely majestic.  And just as most majestic things tend to be, there is also stigma, backlash, and corruption.  And nobody tells it better than Hemingway does in Death in the Afternoon.  Seriously, every nook and cranny about the bullfight world is covered with the type of grace and elegance you would expect from one of the greatest writers in history.  From the detailing maneuvering of a matador or picador, to the sexual exploits that sadly brought so many of them to their graves.  The fears and triumphs of precisely examined and explained in this wonderful and extremely informative narrative.  If you are at all interested in the world of bullfighting, this is the tell all book you simply must read.

That being said, I really didn’t care for it.  Let me explain.  Hemingway has always been one of my favorite writers of all time, and I know I am not alone in these thoughts.  The Sun Also Rises still holds the spot as my favorite book of all time, and the only book I have read more than 3 times.  I didn’t care much for The Old Man and the Sea when I read it at 13 years old, but when I digested it 10 years later, I found it absolutely incredible, and worthy of the praise I once refused to give it.  But, Death in the Afternoon is different.  To be quite honest, if it wasn’t a book by Hemingway, I would probably never have even considered giving it a shot.  In fact, I didn’t even know what the hell the book was about when I picked it up.  I simply saw the name Ernest Hemingway, and a title I had never heard of before, and know that it most be read.  It was a surprise to realize that it was about bullfighting.  And even more surprising that it is about bullfighting in the country I recently moved to (although Spain and bullfighting is as obvious of a collaboration as peas and carrots or peanut butter and jelly).  So my interest was grabbed.  But it just didn’t seem to have the zest and zeal I usually come to expect when reading any sort of story from Papa.  It truly is an instructional piece of non-fiction.  It is as informative as all hell, but not nearly as inspiring as the likes of Men Without Women, or other classic stories he has written.

There is definitely something very personal about this book.  You might think I could appreciate that. I should be able to appreciate the fact that this book was written by a man who yearned to speak his mind, and write about whatever he damn well pleased.  But, I am a selfish man at times.  I respect the legacy of this man more than I respect most anybody.  Still, I can not help but figure that there is a reason that this book managed to escape my knowledge of Mr. Hemingway having ever written it until now.  It isn’t a bad book.  It is written with absolute beauty and grace.  It was pretty much impossible for Ernest not to do so.  It really just isn’t that interesting.  That is unless you are curious about the sport of bullfighting, and especially if you believe yourself to be knowledgable in the sport.  I knew the equivalent of dick before reading this book, and now I feel as though I could tell you whatever you need to know, without even as much as a Google search!

Yes, overall Death in the Afternoon seems to be simply another title to add to the “Also By Ernest Hemingway” at the beginning of 187th edition of A Farewell to Arms.  I would recommend it to everybody, simply because it is Ernest Hemingway.  For even the worst work by this man is vastly superior to just about anybody else in history in my opinion.

Note: 2014 is the first year for book reviews at Trainwreck’d Society.  We will be making a valiant effort to read and review at least 100 books.  This is review #2.  Be sure to stay in touch and be on the lookout for further reviews throughout 2014.  Be sure to let us know if we are falling behind.  For a complete list of book reviews, click HERE.  Enjoy!

Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Book Store by Robin Sloan [Book]

The Great Recession has shuffled Clay Jannon away from life as a San Francisco web-design drone and into the aisles of Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. But after a few days on the job, Clay discovers that the store is more curious than either its name or its gnomic owner might suggest. The customers are few, and they never seem to buy anything—instead, they “check out” large, obscure volumes from strange corners of the store. Suspicious, Clay engineers an analysis of the clientele’s behavior, seeking help from his variously talented friends. But when they bring their findings to Mr. Penumbra, they discover the bookstore’s secrets extend far beyond its walls. Rendered with irresistible brio and dazzling intelligence, Robin Sloan’s Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore is exactly what it sounds like: an establishment you have to enter and will never want to leave.I had no real intention of every reading a story like Mr. Panumbra’s 24 Hour Book Store when I found it sitting in the audio book section of the Rota Naval Station library.  I also had no intention of falling in love with it.  But alas, I did both.  Robin Sloan offers up a beautiful slice of life that matches the far too realistic nature of mankind in the age of knowing anything we want in a few on line searches and the mystery of what may lie in the outer surfaces of existence. – AMAZON.COM

My Thoughts:

The story kicks off with what would seem to be a tired and storied series of events leading to the eventual employment of our main character.  An arts major turned web designer who is out of work.  Oh, if only we could go back to the early years of this century and let all these people know that it just wasn’t going to work out, imagine the place we would be in now.  Thankfully, Sloan doesn’t dwell on this subject too much, and the story starts somewhat quickly, although he does seem to dwell on a few major character quirks that don’t seem to resignate to much need as the story moves forward, but are entertaining nonetheless.  The story takes place in the great city of San Francisco, a city that is a character in itself.  Google is definitely involved in a triumphant manner, as one would assume.  Our hero lands a gig as a bookstore clerk/night watchmen at Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Book Store rather quickly in the tale, but things don’t really start happening until late into Act 2 of the story.

We meet a wide array of characters who would eventually shape the foundation of the story.  There is the rich friend, the hot Googler girlfriend (who always wears a read shirt, which I envisioned to be the same as Sheldon Cooper’s in The Big Bang Theory, but envision as you like), the weird model building roommate, the attractive yet robot-like roommate (who doesn’t really need to exist, if I were to be frank), and, of course, Mr. Penumbra, the eccentric book store owner who is a whimsical old fellow who really made the story for me.  Although I must admit, I read this book in merely an audible sense, and so much credit must be given to Ari Fliakos who did an amazing job throughout the book, but excelled at capturing just how delightful the character of Mr. Penumbra could be.

Author, Robin Sloan

The series of events that occur throughout the novel are almost so entirely site specific that I fear that I may give away much of the mystery and detail that shall arise should you decide to go on the adventure yourself.  But it is suffice to say that this is a fun little book that genuinely asks the new age old questions like: Do we know too much?  Is there any limit to what we as human beings should truly understand?  Is it okay that the amount of mystery in our lives is being shrunk to almost nothing?  Questions like this may not arise as you are reading this tale about a loss of fortitude in society, and the gaining of the greater knowledge that we will all die one day, and maybe a (failed?) quest for the key to eternal life is not such a bad way to commute through the very life you have already been given even with it’s restrictions of time.  But, when you are finished, if these questions do not arise, you might want to see a doctor to ensure that you are indeed a human being after all.

Note: 2014 is the first year for book reviews at Trainwreck’d Society.  We will be making a valiant effort to read and review at least 100 books.  This is review #1.  Be sure to stay in touch and be on the lookout for further reviews throughout 2014.  Be sure to let us know if we are falling behind.  Enjoy!

Bobby Joe Ebola & The Children MacNuggits present Meal Deal with the Devil & The Bobby Joe Ebola Songbook [Book/EP]

So, last night I finally got a beautiful presentation of a couple of wonderful projects that I have been meaning to share with you fine readers for quite sometime.  It was in a back corner of Portland, Oregon’s beloved Powell’s Books (the one on Hawthorne, for the locals out there) on a delightfully chilly Monday night when two of my favorite players in the world of independent music made their way up from their beloved Bay Area and joined some of their wonderful artist friends to tell a few folks about what they have had up their sleeves in the last year or so.  It was a wonderful intimate performance that I am always going to remember as being one of my favorite hours in live music watching history.  In fact, I recommend that all shows be acoustic and take place in book stores.  But, I digress…..

Corbett Redford and Dan Abbott, better known to many of you as Bobby Joe Ebola & The Children MacNuggits, are no strangers to the Trainwreck’d Society.  We’ve covered them various times in the past, and I have been a fan of this wonderful duo, and sometimes full out band, since I was a young lad trying to figure out where all these hairs were coming from as they appeared in my nether regions.  Their creativity and ingenuity has always been an undeniable force in the world of indie music.  And their amazing DIY attitude and mannerisms that have led them to be what I consider America’s premiere blue collar band are at the very least commendable and worthy of the praise of every creature and low rent music blogger on the face of the earth.  Honestly, I could continue on with another 10,000 words on how much I am in absolute man love with these guys, and how grateful I am that they still walk the earth to this day strumming funny little ditties that look at the world in the brightest of light even if the shading is a bit off-putting and stirred with realism that scares the shit out of all of us.  Seriously, after twenty years of performing in some aspect or another, this is one of the finest groups to exist in our day and age.

Alright, now that the hypothetical dick sucking is well under way, I am so excited to tell you even more about how fucking fantastic these cats are.  As I stated before, balls deep of course, BJE’s creativity is by far one of their finest attributes.  Hilarity is often a common centerpiece around their work.  But it is always hilarity within reason, the type of funny stuff that makes you think a bit more than you ever would have before.  Think John Stewart and Stephen Colbert in a folk/punk duo, but with more fart jokes (if that is possible).

And on their latest efforts, these fine gentlemen have created…..a listen along kid’s book?  Well, maybe not exactly.  It is billed as a “Horrible Little Listen-Along Book”, and depending on how apt you may be to teaching your kids about the horrors of livelihood, it could be a wonderful “kid’s book”.  But, thing is for sure, this wonderful book and accompanying EP, Meal Deal with the Devil, is a delightful bit of comedy intermingled with some hints of perversion and sympathy for the not so righteous.  The 5 track EP contains three awesome new unreleased cuts (“Punk, You Let Me Down” definitely has a very strong message, but the Huffington Post already covered that in a far more elegant manner than we ever could.  They never claimed to hypothetically blow they band.  But, of course they probably would).  And when you get to the final two tracks, this is where the fun begins.  This is where we enter the Listen Along section, and the wonderfully illustrated and delightfully hilarious tails “Down at the Jamboree” and “The Town With No Beer”.  Corbett Redford narrates the whole bit as we follow along to the brilliant pictures and amazingly detailed drawings orchestrated by Portland’s very own Jason Chandler (big dog behind Horrible Comics, and esteemed member of the awesome punk band The Frustrators).  The stories are funny, delightful, and just a down right good bit of fun.  There are so many great aspects to this fun little book, but I think a passage describing the book in the book itself states it best:

“Meal Deal with the Devil has been expertly designed and crafted to provide many wonderful years of being lost in a closet at your Mom’s house after you move out, and that poor woman has suffered enough already, with all of your crap.”

Well said, if you ask me.

And of course, in BJE’s own well deserved narcissistic manner, releasing a single book and accompanying EP just isn’t enough.  No, the band decided that after all of these years, and hundreds of songs written between the two of them, it was time to release to the world, the Bobby Joe Ebola Songbook.  190 pages, continuing over 98 songs spanning the life and times of BJE since the band began (which I would learn was all in an attempt to get laid.  And seriously, what other reason is there to start a band?).  And in the fashionable duality of man, BJE offsets any negativity of being narcissistic (I see none, though) with a generous and extremely selfless act of not simply releasing a book with a bunch of lyrics and chords and maybe a quick introduction begging you to give them 16 dollars to continue playing music.  No, this is another beautiful piece of art.  Once again, Jason Chandler joined the team to edit (and release through Microcosm Publishing) as well as dozens of other wonderful illustrators, artists, and manic fools creating some wonderful art to accompany the words.  Folks like Petr Sofra, who did a perfect rendition of characters from one of my favorite old school BJE tracks, “Freshman Philsophy”.  And the list goes on and on.  And further more, there are little tidbits of history and fun facts that are fascinating as well!  In fact, there are so many tidbits of information about the band’s hometown of Pinole, California, that I might have decided to take a trip through there some day!

All of this being said, there simply isn’t enough digital space on the inter webs to truly state just how wonderful Bobby Joe Ebola & The Children MacNuggits truly are.  The magnetism towards a group like this should be bloody obvious, and with great reason.  The band has withstood the tyrannical test of time for such a long time, and have proven that they have the illustrious fortitude to continue rocking on until the dawn’s early light sends them packing on to another plain of existence.  What surprises me the most about BJE releasing a sing a long book and songbook at the same time (with efforts that almost drew them lifeless during production), is how surprised I actually WASN’T by these fine folks doing such a thing.  If it is innovative and original, Corbett and Dan will fucking go there.  If it is delightful and brings joy to others, these guys will go out of their way and slay the dragons of impossibility to make it happen.  These are some cats who care about their work and the joy it brings to their fans, the old and and the new.  I have never been more serious in my life when I say that Bobby Joe Ebola and the Children MacNuggits is one of  the finest acts to exist today.

And on that note, I’m going to need a Kleenex and a toothbrush.  Goodnight Everybody!

You can pick up anything BJE related at the band’s awesome WEBSITE.  You can also pick up Meal Deal with the Devil and Bobby Joe Ebola Songbook right now from MICROCOSM PUBLISHING.

Also, it would behoove you to support the great Jason Chandler, who was instrumental in making this project happen.  Check out his band The Frustrators and definitely check out Horrible Comics, “drawings for immature adults and unsupervised children”.