I Want To Read: Deadwood

Summer is in full swing, and I think we all know the effect that has on good television: for the most part, it's gone. I unashamedly love TV*, but I appreciate getting a breather from watching a series on a weekly basis. Instead, summer is the time to...turn off the idiot box? Nah. Summer is the time to catch up on DVDs!

And I have had more time than usual to catch up this summer, given that I've been laid up with my broken leg rather than run ragged at summer camp. The best discovery I've made, by far, is Deadwood.

I've almost finished the second season of the HBO series, which ran from 2004 until its abrupt end in 2006. I was immediately enthralled with the Wild West in a way I'd never been before, drawn in by vivid, complicated, yet sympathetic characters** and by the day-to-day realities of a world I was wholly unfamiliar with. It's maybe hard to say, given that I haven't finished watching yet, but right now I'd call Deadwood my second favorite show ever. (It's hard to beat The Wire.)

I'm already looking toward the end of the series and realizing that it's not going to last long enough to suit me. I was excited to find that Pete Dexter's novel Deadwood covers the same period of the town's history. A little research informs me that despite having many of the same characters, there are a fair amount of dissimilarities between the book and the show. All the same, I know I'm going to want to spend a little more time in the town of Deadwood once I'm done watching. Although I have many, many books on my to-read list, I'm hoping I can get a hold of a copy of Deadwood sharpish. Until then, I'm happily devouring Jo Nesbø's The Devil's Star. Bookstore gift cards are the best, no?

*Though I do love books more, naturally.

**I've amused myself by trying to order my top 5 Deadwood characters. It's tough. As of this moment I'd go: 1. Doc Cochran (Brad Dourif) 2. Calamity Jane (Robin Weigart) 3. Sol Star (John Hawkes) 4. Al Swearengen (Ian McShane) 5. Seth Bullock (Timothy Olyphant). But then what about Charlie Utter (Dayton Callie) and Joanie Stubbs (Kim Dickens)? Or the characters I love to hate, like the slimy E.B. Farnum (William Sanderson) and the sociopathic yet dapper Francis Wolcott (Garret Dillahunt)?

A Touch of Dead by Charlaine Harris

"Have you ever seen It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown?"

I stopped in my tracks. "Sure," I said. "Have you?'

"Oh, yes," Pam said calmly. "Many times." She gave me a minute to absorb that. "Eric is like that on Dracula Night."

-A Touch of Dead

A Touch of Dead is a small collection of short stories by Charlaine Harris, all centered around her most famous heroine, Sookie Stackhouse. These stories fill in gaps in Harris's novels, providing us with background information and some important plot detail, along with a fair amount of fluff.

There are only five stories, which makes this quite a quick read. In "Fairy Dust," we learn more about the fairy siblings Claude and Claudine as Sookie is brought in to investigate their triplet Claudette's death. "Dracula Night," which I quoted from above, describes Fangtasia's annual celebration of Dracula's birth. The third story of the collection, "One Word Answer," was the most interesting one in terms of its impact on Sookie. In my review of Definitely Dead, I wondered if there was a story that dealt with Sookie learning of the death of her cousin, Hadley, as well as her introduction to Queen Sophie-Ann Leclerq. "One Word Answer" is that story.

"Lucky" gives Sookie a chance to team up with her witchy roommate Amelia to solve a mystery, and "Gift Wrap" details an interesting Christmastime adventure for Sookie. Both stories are amusing, and the latter provides more insight into the supernatural world—for us, though interestingly not for Sookie.

In general, the stories are diverting, and worth reading for a Sookie Stackhouse fan—particularly "One Word Answer." I think it would probably be best to read them in between the novels in the order they were written —Harris indicates the proper sequence in her introduction—but I assume most readers, like me, will read these stories after finishing the rest of the series (save one, in my case). In any case, they're enjoyable, but I didn't get quite the satisfaction I've gotten from the novels, probably because there simply isn't so much space for dramatic arcs or character development in this format. Still, it was a pleasant way to spend an hour or so.

Up next: I think The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan, but that could change.

Kraken by China Miéville

"Now, Mr. Harrow," Baron said. He shook his head, friendly. "I told you. All those whys is not a helpful way of looking at things. And blimey, there's plenty of stuff you've not even seen yet. How could you possibly understand what's going on? If you even wanted to. Which, as I say, dot dot dot.

"So. Rather than trying to get to grips with things you can't possibly, I'd just say wait. Wait and see. Because you will see. There's more to come. Good-bye now."

-Kraken

A few months ago I went to the Museum of Natural History in New York, which is home to Milstein Hall of Ocean Life. One of the most dramatic dioramas in the hall portrays a struggle between a giant squid and a sperm whale. That so little is known about the giant squid certainly makes it more compelling, and I would guess that this diorama has captured the imagination of many an impressionable visitor.

In Kraken, China Miéville takes the mystery of the giant squid a step further: what if it were worshiped as a god? What if a giant squid, something holy to its worshipers, were pickled and put on display at a natural history museum? And what if one day it just...disappeared?

Such is the mystery faced by Billy Harrow, a curator at London's Natural History Museum. Billy is the man who worked most closely on the preservation of the squid, and he is the one who finds it missing. It's not as if a giant squid in a tank can up and vanish, leaving behind not a shred of evidence—except that's exactly what this one did.

Billy is soon embroiled in events that involve a number of players from a magical side of London hitherto unknown to him. There's the krakenists, of course, those devout worshipers of Architeuthis dux. The FSRC, a police force dedicated to crimes that are out of the ordinary. The Londonmancers, able to tap into the magic of London and—more interestingly to some—to predict the future. The Tattoo, who is as dangerous as he sounds; Goss and Subby, who are far, far worse.

It's a scary, complicated world out there, and Billy has a steep learning curve. With all of those factions and their various, often inscrutable, motivations, it can be difficult to keep up. Miéville, as I learned when reading his novel Un Lun Dun, is fantastically creative. Kraken, if anything, is packed with too many characters and ideas. Good characters and ideas, all of them, but there are just so many that the story became slightly overstuffed. I have to flat-out admit that I'm not sure I understand everything that happened. I do appreciate a story in which not everything is laid out for you, but it can be a fine line. On the plus side, I do look forward to discussing Kraken...once I've found someone else who's read it. I'm also planning on delving further in Miéville's back catalog, as he is certainly one of the most interesting authors I've become familiar with in the last few years.

Up next: A Touch of Dead, the collection of Sookie Stackhouse stories, which I imagine I'll race through pretty quickly.

Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane

"Since the schoolyard," Naehring said, "I would bet neither of you has ever walked away from physical conflict. That's not to suggest you enjoyed it, only that retreat wasn't something you considered an option. Yes?"

Teddy looked over at Chuck. Chuck gave him a small smile, slightly abashed.

Chuck said, "Wasn't raised to run, Doc."

"Ah, yes—raised. And who did raise you?"

"Bears," Teddy said.

-Shutter Island

I saw the film adaptation of Shutter Island back in February. I was reeled in by the moody, atmospheric ads that promised a satisfying level of creepiness. I read some mixed reviews, most of which took the trouble to note a plot twist. No particulars, just that there was one.

I love plot twists. I think they're dandy. I just don't like knowing about plot twists. I think it spoils half the fun. If you go into a movie, or a book, knowing there will be a twist, it's only natural to speculate on what it could be—and in many cases you'll uncover it. No fun.*

So I walked into the movie with a fair idea of where it was going to go, which I thought made it a weaker film than it could have been, but I mostly enjoyed it all the same. And obviously I then began reading the book with a fairly thorough grounding in the plot, though I'd forgotten some of the particulars in the intervening months. I was hoping that in reading the book, I'd clarify some of the more ambiguous points in the film and gain a better understanding of the characters' motivations. On both points, the book was very helpful. It's also a pretty absorbing read.

The plot, you say? Oh yes, there's plenty of that. Teddy Daniels and his new partner, Chuck Aule, are federal marshals assigned to an unusual case on Shutter Island, a psychiatric institution for the criminally insane. A woman named Rachel Solando has disappeared without a trace, which is quite a feat in a place crawling with guards and orderlies. As the marshals investigate the case, they run into more and more peculiarities, all the while battling the effects of a developing hurricane that has cut them off from the outside world.

Poor Teddy. I probably thought that a thousand times while reading. Chuck doesn't have a great time of it either, but Teddy is different. Not only is he our protagonist, Teddy is also a man with a Past. The kind of past that you wouldn't wish on anyone. The kind of past you just can't get past, as it were. He's enormously sympathetic, even though his own behavior is not beyond reproach—far from it. You just want things to start going right for him. That's not really how this kind of book works, though. Poor Teddy.

Poor Teddy, indeed.

In the film, Teddy was played by Leonardo DiCaprio, whom I couldn't help but picture while reading the book. His acting in Shutter Island is among his best work, and I think he was the best part of the film as well. His Teddy was both devastated and utterly devastating, which made the end of the film (quite true to the book) hit even harder. Shout-out to Mark Ruffalo as well for his flawless portrayal of Chuck, whom I also pictured quite clearly when I read. On the whole, it was a visually striking film, so perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that I relied on Scorcese's vision of the island while reading.

All in all, fairly entertaining, and if you've seen (and enjoyed) the film I'd definitely recommend it, just to help you tie up any loose ends.

Up next: Kraken by China Miéville, which I'm very excited about!

*In fact, I certainly wouldn't mention the twist in Shutter Island unless I were sure that it was already a pretty widely known idea among people who keep up with that sort of thing. (A Google search of "Shutter Island" and "twist" returns almost 300,000 results.)

A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick

Catherine groped blindly. The reins whipped in the wind, but she found them, took them in her hands. The carriage rocked in the pitted field, but she held on. Her foolish cloak was streaming in the wind, choking her, and she ripped it from her neck and it flew out behind, a momentary ghost in the swirling snow.

She knew enough to let the horses run. She knew enough to hope in their natural instincts. Her strength was no match for the terror she felt pulsing from the horses' black rumps. She held on. She did the only thing she could.

The horses raced on in a frenzy. They galloped down a small bank, skimmed onto the frozen river, the carriage arcing dangerously, so that the horses were spun in a circle, leaving crazy black trails on the powdered ice, really frightened now, aware, suddenly, of how far they were from safety. One of the horses slipped, lost its footing and collapsed onto the ice, which cracked and shimmered but held. Catherine sat mute with fear, with the idea of death in the frigid water, drowning, tangled in dying horses.

The river held.

-A Reliable Wife

In the interview with author Robert Goolrick included in my edition of A Reliable Wife, he states, "These characters are not good people. They have lived mistaken and cruel lives, done despicable things."

He's speaking of Ralph Truitt, for one, a wealthy man of industry living in rural Wisconsin just after the turn of the century. As a young man, Ralph reveled in luxury, first in the city and later abroad, spending his father's money on the finest of everything: wines, wares, and women. His first marriage ended tragically, and he's spent twenty years in sober, gut-wrenching loneliness. He places a discreet ad in the newspaper, in search of the titular reliable wife.

The ad brings Catherine Land to him. Catherine has known her fair share of debauchery as well, but she's left that life behind her. She tells Ralph that she is a missionary's daughter. It's not remotely the truth, but it's the part she's chosen to play. Catherine has a plan, you see, a plan that hinges on an absolute semblance of propriety. That, and a tiny blue bottle of arsenic.

Goolrick slowly reveals what drives these characters: the man haunted by his past and terrified by the prospect of his eternal damnation; the woman who has gotten more that she could have ever imagined, and yet is not quite done. They do things that it's incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to sympathize with. Yet they remain vulnerable and, despite their behavior, Goolrick keeps the reader from turning on his flawed, struggling characters. I've certainly read stories with characters to whom I could relate far better, but I never ended up disliking Ralph or Catherine, even when I stopped understanding them.

In the same interview I mentioned above, Goolrick mentions his interest in following the characters' chances of redemption. I certainly can understand his interest, but I find it somewhat hard to reconcile with the melodramatic denouement. Still, the book was interesting enough that I couldn't help but mentally cast a potential movie while I was reading. I never came up with a definitive cast, but the complicated characters and the cinematic nature of the book seem to ensure a film adaptation (indeed, Sony already has the rights). I'll be very intrigued to see how it comes out.

Next up: I'm thinking Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane.

Commencement by J. Courtney Sullivan

The train rolled past Thirty-fourth Street, where tourist families with fanny packs and matching smiles piled into the car. Their blond children held on to the poles, swaying this way and that, thrilled by every jolt and bump of the train. Celia thought for a moment how strange it felt to simply live—to work, and go to the gym, and buy groceries, and wait for trains—in a place where so many people were visiting and in awe of their surroundings.

-Commencement

Commencement, as its name suggests, is a novel about beginnings. One beginning is the first day at Smith College for four young women: headstrong Celia, radical April, sheltered Bree, and seemingly flawless Sally. They form the kind of friendships it seems you can only form when you're young, when you can devote all your spare time to getting to know people. They go to wild parties and get their hearts broken and sing into their hairbrushes. They become each other's family.

Much of the action of Commencement takes place four years after their graduation. Graduation, of course, is an end and beginning unto itself, but that entire post-college period is marked by the possibility of many beginnings. (I should know, I'm still in the thick of it.) It's a time of finding your footing in the world, and the women of Commencement choose different paths. Celia lives in Brooklyn and dreams of being a writer. April is ready to embark on a dangerous endeavor to bring awareness to women in need. Bree is wrestling with the end of a long-term relationship. And Sally's getting married, which provides the perfect excuse to get the four of them back together—although they soon discover that picking up where they left off isn't as easy as they would like.

I didn't particularly identify with any one character in Commencement, but I think J. Courtney Sullivan created four realistic young women. It seems clear that Sullivan, a Smith alumna herself, has drawn on her own experience in writing. It's certainly interesting to take a peek behind the curtain of a women's college, a place which seems subject to so much speculation and stereotyping. Although the college experience of the women of Commencement was fairly dissimilar from my own, I couldn't help but feel a touch nostalgic.

I also keenly understood the transitional period that the women were in, four years after graduation. Commencement really came at a great time for me, since I am navigating my own transition right now, one that is far more complicated than anticipated. It certainly helped me to understand what the characters were going through, even though their individual circumstances were different from my own. I also appreciated that, although Commencement dealt with very serious issues, Sullivan wrote with a deftly light touch that prevented the book from getting too dense or preachy. It would be a fantastic beach or traveling read.

Up next: I have many choices at my disposal right now, but I think I'm going to go with A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick.