We had some nice conversation (and productively divergent opinions) about Melissa's selection for August. Let's continue the good and work towards picking up more momentum with my selection for October, James Agee's Let Us Now Praise Famous Men.
It is hard to say what this book is; it is not a novel. It is not journalism. It is not an essay. It is not history. It is not poetry. It is not a drama. Yet it is somehow all of these things at once. It is a book of many different and disparate parts, but, like the many different and disparate parts in a symphony, they all work together.
I will warn you: it is not a short book, yet it is not particularly difficult to read. But, it demands that you take it slowly, that you chew each morsel fully before you swallow it and, even after that, you still are left wondering sometimes what it was you just ate, what flavour you just tasted. It is an immensely sad book. It is a book full of liberal white guilt, yet also a book full of pride and power and strength. I come from white trash, and thus it is my book, yet it also deeply foreign to me. It is respectful and exploitative, it is a book of the artist as teller of truth and lies.
Let us read it together, and discuss it together the first week of October.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Almost Moon
Our first discussion! Hooroo! As a reminder, just add a comment to get things rolling. Feel free to ask questions (I’ve got a few) make comments, or even ask about stuff that confuses you.
I just reread The Almost Moon, and it really drew out the scholar in me. It just makes me want to think. I find it remarkably compelling. It seems that for every statement I make about the novel, there are three questions, and they just keep forming. And so to begin this discussion, I present to you a number of statements and questions. Let the discussion unfold.
Most of the time, writers do not kill a main character in the first chapter. Were you surprised? What else surprised you?
What inspired me to choose this novel was the dynamic of ugly/grotesque with the beautiful/rapturous. It makes a reader uncomfortable. There is a liminality (definition below) of the two states and between the two states. What do you make of these characters on the brink?
Speaking of being on the brink, Helen doesn’t know where she’s going (either literally or metaphorically) – all she knows is where she doesn’t want to be. What does this state entail for her?
One thing I noticed was a distinct separation of roles within one character, e.g., Clair is not seen as an intellectual person by her daughter, only a “broken mother.” She is only seen as an intellectual, and (coincidentally?) as a mentally ill person, by her friend the neighbor. When Helen sees Clair’s intellectual persona, it appears as an aberration – something her mother does, occasionally, but not part of who her mother is. How does this splitting affect Helen? Clair?
It’s often joked that most women become their mothers. Is Helen becoming her mother? In what ways are they similar? How are they different? Has Helen shaped her adult self in response to her mother?
Let’s talk about relationships. What do you see in the relationships in the novel? Mother and daughter, female friendships, male-female friendships, husband and wife, daughter and father. What’s missing?
Dichotomies (such as the dynamic between weak and strong, and the argument between crazy and sane) really only function in opposition, and there is a lot of opposition in this novel. Who functions in opposition? To whom? How?
How do gender roles (i.e., traditional male-female roles and dynamics) come into play in the novel? Who is weak? Who is strong? Who is crazy? Who is sane? Who is beautiful? Who is ugly?
While discussing Clair and Helen, let’s not forget her other parent – how did Helen’s father impact the lives of his wife and daughter?
On our facebook page, Jason mentioned the situation Clair is in. What do you make of the elderly character(s) in the novel.
Liminality, a good working definition from Wikipedia: “a psychological, neurological, or metaphysical subjective, conscious state of being on the "threshold" of or between two different existential planes . . . The liminal state is characterized by ambiguity, openness, and indeterminacy. One's sense of identity dissolves to some extent, bringing about disorientation. Liminality is a period of transition where normal limits to thought, self-understanding, and behavior are relaxed - a situation which can lead to new perspectives. People, places, or things may not complete a transition, or a transition between two states may not be fully possible. Those who remain in a state between two other states may become permanently liminal.” From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality)
I just reread The Almost Moon, and it really drew out the scholar in me. It just makes me want to think. I find it remarkably compelling. It seems that for every statement I make about the novel, there are three questions, and they just keep forming. And so to begin this discussion, I present to you a number of statements and questions. Let the discussion unfold.
Most of the time, writers do not kill a main character in the first chapter. Were you surprised? What else surprised you?
What inspired me to choose this novel was the dynamic of ugly/grotesque with the beautiful/rapturous. It makes a reader uncomfortable. There is a liminality (definition below) of the two states and between the two states. What do you make of these characters on the brink?
Speaking of being on the brink, Helen doesn’t know where she’s going (either literally or metaphorically) – all she knows is where she doesn’t want to be. What does this state entail for her?
One thing I noticed was a distinct separation of roles within one character, e.g., Clair is not seen as an intellectual person by her daughter, only a “broken mother.” She is only seen as an intellectual, and (coincidentally?) as a mentally ill person, by her friend the neighbor. When Helen sees Clair’s intellectual persona, it appears as an aberration – something her mother does, occasionally, but not part of who her mother is. How does this splitting affect Helen? Clair?
It’s often joked that most women become their mothers. Is Helen becoming her mother? In what ways are they similar? How are they different? Has Helen shaped her adult self in response to her mother?
Let’s talk about relationships. What do you see in the relationships in the novel? Mother and daughter, female friendships, male-female friendships, husband and wife, daughter and father. What’s missing?
Dichotomies (such as the dynamic between weak and strong, and the argument between crazy and sane) really only function in opposition, and there is a lot of opposition in this novel. Who functions in opposition? To whom? How?
How do gender roles (i.e., traditional male-female roles and dynamics) come into play in the novel? Who is weak? Who is strong? Who is crazy? Who is sane? Who is beautiful? Who is ugly?
While discussing Clair and Helen, let’s not forget her other parent – how did Helen’s father impact the lives of his wife and daughter?
On our facebook page, Jason mentioned the situation Clair is in. What do you make of the elderly character(s) in the novel.
Liminality, a good working definition from Wikipedia: “a psychological, neurological, or metaphysical subjective, conscious state of being on the "threshold" of or between two different existential planes . . . The liminal state is characterized by ambiguity, openness, and indeterminacy. One's sense of identity dissolves to some extent, bringing about disorientation. Liminality is a period of transition where normal limits to thought, self-understanding, and behavior are relaxed - a situation which can lead to new perspectives. People, places, or things may not complete a transition, or a transition between two states may not be fully possible. Those who remain in a state between two other states may become permanently liminal.” From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)