The Moviegoer by Walker Percy (47 down 53 to go)

I awake in the grip of everydayness. Everydayness is the enemy. ~ Binx Bolling

 

This is the first time I’ve read The Moviegoer or Walker Percy. The novel is an existential tale told through the first-person narrative of John Bickerson (Binx) Bolling, an upper middle-class bachelor, securities trader, and Korean War veteran living in New Orleans in the mid-1950s.

 

I give it 3 1/2 Stars

This novel satisfies square I2 of 2015Classics Bingo: New to me author

 

In the beginning, I liked this story quite a bit. Binx is a decent fellow, successful, responsible, clearly going through some inner turmoil, but not so self-obsessed that he doesn’t step up to familial obligations or societal concerns. He explains early that he has begun a “search” though he is never explicit as to what he is searching for. Over the course of the novel it becomes clear, as clear as these sort of searches can be, that he is searching for meaning, purpose, fulfillment – some way to avoid everydayness.

 

I’m usually not too fond of these characters, ala Holden Caulfield, but Binx is far less angsty. I’d call him a high functioning searcher. I respect that. I’m all for self-actualization, finding the purpose of life, all that – but I have little patience for those who spend so much energy questioning life, that they fail to live it. Everydayness is a fact of life. Binx seems to get that.

 

He finds some satisfaction in making money for himself and his clients and in wooing his secretaries. He seems to be good at both. He also likes going to movies, but this is less of the central plot than you would expect from the title. He does often frame life’s experiences, places, and people in reference to some movie.

 

Besides Binx, there are only two other main characters: his Aunt Emily who raised him after his father died, and Aunt Emily’s step-daughter Kate. Aunt Emily understandably holds some sway over Binx, and although she seems to have genuine affection for him, she is also mildly disappointed and schemes to send him to medical school. Kate is almost like a sister to Binx, but there are hints of affections not so brotherly/sisterly. (discovered siblingly is not a word.) Kate is also searching, but is not quite so high functioning as Binx, definitely more angsty. Aunt Emily of course, is rightly concerned for both and by no means intends to stay out of it and merely hope for the best.

 

I said I liked this story in the beginning, but I was a little disappointed in the end, just a little. Kate’s search reaches a crisis, which brings Binx into it. Aunt Emily is disappointed with both of them, though one more than the other, and the two searchers are confronted with the reality of everydayness. I’ll let you read the story to discover if they stand firm, sell out, give up, or compromise. I was not disappointed in the outcome, but felt there was insufficient stimulus. It was a little anti-climactic.

 

Still an enjoyable, and easy read, a novella by most standards. My e-book was only 180 pages.

 

Binx' commentary about himself:

Me, it is my fortune and misfortune to know how the spirit-presence of a strange place can enrich a man or rob a man but never leave him alone, how, if a man travels lightly to a hundred strange cities and cares nothing for the risk he takes, he may find himself No one and Nowhere.

 

There are numerous allusions to Classic Literature within this novel:

 

Binx claims to: read only “fundamental” books, that is, key books on key subjects, such as War and Peace, the novel of novels…

 

Binx says: Tolstoy and St Exupery were right about war, etc.

 

Binx observes a man on a train reading The Charterhouse of Parma.

 

Binx makes reference to Robinson Crusoe, and at another time to Scarlett and Rhett.

 

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The Love Bird (original poem by The Once Lost Wanderer)

April is Poetry Month

You are probably familiar with Edgar Allan Poe's most famous poem The Raven.

I've always been fascinated by that poem, and the unique meter. I've also always been a little depressed by its...depressing message.

So, once upon an evening idle...I decided to emulate Poe's meter, but with a more hopeful message. And therefore with all due courtesy to the inimitable poet Poe, I offer my own creation.

The Lovebird by J.E. Fountain

Once upon a day break brilliant, when my soul was still resilient,

To the fates and follies of my life and what it held in store,

That I idled haply reading, signs and seasons all unheeding, 

As the night was fast receding, came soft knocking on my door.

‘Who will this be' I wondered, ‘so early knocking on my door?’

Earlier than I'd known before.

Vaguely through the mist and motion, of my memory’s stormy ocean,

I recall with clearer notion how day dawned upon my shore.

For I’d slept and sweetly slumbered, with my conscience unencumbered

And so many joys unnumbered, for love of one that I adore.

Radiant beauty, heaven ordained, mine alone on earth to adore.

I scarce could e’er hope for more.

When the silence interrupted, and my solitude corrupted,

By the sound of slightest knocking that I've mentioned heretofore.

‘Twas the eve of fair midsummer, I resolve to meet this comer  

Ready, steady like a drummer, they keep knocking on my door.

Leaving me still to wonder who could be knocking on my door

Or if they’d come e’er before.

Curious now with nothing fearing, but some weary soul appearing,

Comes seeking respite, yes it was this and likely nothing more.

‘Wait' said I, ‘I am succumbing; you may now desist your drumming

Rest ye now for I am coming, to fair greet you at my door.

Be at ease, enter, join me’ said as I opened wide my door

Sunlight there and nothing more.

Long into the sunlight squinting, as my mind was gently hinting,

Golden rays came glancing, glinting, dancing bright upon my floor.

Nothing there, I was mistaken, blinking dumbly I awaken,

From idle dreams I’m shaken, and thoughts of one that I adore.

Charming word I smiled and whispered to the nothing there ‘adore’

Only this and nothing more.

Turning to my previous pleasure, tending to resume my leisure,

Once again I heard the measure of the drumming as before.

What can be this source of knocking, all my intellect it’s mocking

‘Tis nothing at all shocking, I simply renew my explore.

If not at my doorstep, there are other portals to explore

Than those I'd searched before.

From my window comes the clatter, I resolve to test the matter,

And at last the mystery shatter, of what seemed once at my door.

Could it be I mused and muddled, just a little bit befuddled

Some lost soul is huddled, at my window and not my door?

I hear ‘tis most clearly coming from my window not my door

‘Tis but this and nothing more.

Sitting there a rapturous songbird, likely all the noise that I heard,

Was his flit and flutter lighting on my pane and nothing more.

Thinking he would soon be winging, I’d regret to miss his singing,

And the simple joy that bringing, but he sat to look me o’er.

Curious that such a creature would be content to look me o’er

Unlike any known before.

And for reasons beyond reason, save perhaps the Orphic season,

I asked the winged visitor his name, indeed I did implore.

Expecting no satisfaction, nor any hope of interaction,

I quite reeled at his reaction, when he stated ‘Evermore.’

Extraordinary name for bird or beast was this Evermore

Now I must my wits restore.

Stoic sat he quite contented as my faculties invented

Some reason for this visitor and the message that he bore.

Whence to me comes this chimera, from some long forgotten era,

Or some mystic high sierra, where such birds are lost in lore?

I recalled a winged omen in volume of forgotten lore

‘Twas but legend nothing more.

Still it was so clearly spoken, could it not be some small token,

From the fates to guide and show me what my life still held in store?

Or held it no greater meaning, no cosmic force intervening,

Only circumstance convening, thoughts upon my mind galore?

Wild and fanciful illusions racing through my mind galore

Now I pray my wits restore.

Still he seemed so true and forthright, speaking plain at dawn’s first fair light,

That I deemed it would not do to doubt his mission anymore.

Rendered with such perfect diction, and expressed with pure conviction

I could not believe it fiction, but some message that he bore.

No doubt remained it was some prophetic message that he bore

I must ask him now for more.

Ah to but divine the meaning, all my consciousness was screening,

To discern the mystic message that had struck me to my core.

What indeed could be implicit, by this single word explicit,

Uttered by this fowl complicit, was the matter to explore.

Fearing all would evade me if I did not at once explore

Again he spoke ‘Evermore.’

Then, I thought the air grew lighter, and the day seemed dawning brighter,

As Shekinah beams descended from the heights where angels soar.

Blessed be this bird and sender and the message they did render,

Of the love I held so tender for the one I do adore.

‘Will love return to me from the only one I do adore?’

Quoth the songbird, ‘Evermore.’

‘Herald!’ said I, ‘vow of pleasure, whose one word I'll ever treasure,

Are you sent to grant love of the only one that I adore?

Messenger of favor bless me, does the grace of God caress me

For no word will e’er distress me, only this do I implore 

How long can true love last? I pray thee, again do I implore!’

Quoth the songbird ‘Evermore.’

‘Herald!’ said I ‘vow of pleasure, whose one word I'll ever treasure,

For joy without measure, you have promised this and so much more.

Nothing in you seems unruly, and I deem you tell it truly,

And you are appointed duly, to tell of one I adore.

Once more tell how long shall love endure with the one I adore?’

Quoth the lovebird ‘Evermore.’

‘Be that word our sign of greeting, if again our ways find meeting,

Should you e’er again return to take your rest upon my shore.’

Then he flew and left no token save the promise he had spoken

That my love should be unbroken all of time and evermore.

I shall ever bless the day I first heard him speak Evermore

Only this and nothing more.

As he flew so fly the seasons, leaving me no rhymes or reasons,

For his visitation and the glorious message that he bore.

Save sweet words to e’er remind me, that true love that once did find me,

Would with cords forever bind me, to the soul that I adore.

Blessed to share a joyful life with the true love that I adore.

Love abides forevermore!

© 2015 Joseph E. Fountain

Gravity's Rainbow by Robert Pynchon

Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

After reading one-third of the book, and for reasons that seem good to me, I've decided to eliminate this from my reading list (see rule #6). I will skip to the next novel which now becomes number 47, and all others shift up, and I'll add an alternate to the end of the list.

Teaser Tuesdays (April 14, 2015)

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of A Daily Rhythm. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

• Grab your current read

• Open to a random page

• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

My Teaser: No kidding either. The routine of snore, get belted with pillow, wake up, say hmm, fall back to sleep, goes on well into the morning. “Come on.” Finally, “cut it out.”

From Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon, chapter 1. Beyond the Zero

The Trial by Franz Kafka (46 down 54 to go)

This is the first time I’ve read The Trial or Franz Kafka. It is a modernist era novel, allegorical, existential, and I'd say somewhat satirical. A precise time or place is never set, but a few clues suggest Northern Europe, early 20th century. Other elements are similarly vague such as the main character, Josef K., whom the omniscient narrator refers to simply as K. The lack of detail is probably an intentional device of the author to make the underlying meaning of the allegory relevant in any generation or culture

My rating: 3 1/2 of 5 Stars

This novel satisfies square I4 of 2015 Classics Bingo: Translated Classic

Several factors tempered my experience. First, I didn’t realize it was an allegory (it is not universally believed to be so, but I am convinced) until well into the story and this left me confused in the beginning. Second, I’d read a synopsis about a man arrested by agents of an unknown jurisdiction who is brought to trial on unspecified charges by a mysterious and aloof authority. I was expecting a mystery, crime drama, maybe magical realism, but of course my expectations were never met. To be fair, I need to reread The Trial, and I will someday. I think a better understanding at the beginning will lead to a better overall experience. Finally, certain portions are incomplete. One chapter ends with the publisher’s note: “this chapter was left unfinished.” No reread will ever solve that.

The story is compelling from the very beginning. Josef K. is arrested, but the charges, proceedings, rules of evidence, etc. are all very vague. For instance, K. is told he must not fail to appear in court, but he is not given the precise time or place. This is all confusing, but what was maddening was K.’s resignation to the process as if it was all quite normal. That all made better sense when I realized the story is an allegory.

I think the major theme is fairly obvious: guilt, and ultimate responsibility for that guilt to an unseen authority. That’s probably not a very popular message today, but I thought it was an astute and telling commentary on the human experience. The story is rife with symbolism and caricature. In spite of what many would call a religious message, there is very little reference to any specific organized religion.

At one point, a court insider asks K. what type of acquittal he wants, and explains there are three types: absolute acquittal, apparent acquittal, and deferment. He explains that the only way to get absolute acquittal is to be innocent and that 

"Only the highest judge" can give absolute acquittal, but his court is "quite out of reach for you, for me and for all of us."

Apparent acquittal gets the defendant off the hook temporarily by the assertion of innocence of influential persons, but the defendant will one day assuredly be brought up on new charges. Deferment, is the process of unceasing motions and procedures simply meant to put off judgement indefinitely.

Of course, these circumstances are ludicrous on the temporal plane, but in an eternal and spiritual context have more meaningful implications.

I have not studied Kafka’s personal life in any detail and it would be grossly unfair of me to attempt to explain his world view, though I believe The Trial gives the reader a glimpse. On certain points, it certainly resonates with me, while on others…particularly the conclusion of the matter, my own belief is as different from Kafka’s as hope is from despair.

Film Rendition: The 1962 film starring Anthony Perkins as Joseph K is a pretty faithful rendering. If anything it was even more maddening. I think if I had watched it without reading the book I would have been completely lost.

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