Three non-baseball books I recently read with my eyes

True North, by Jim Harrison

It occurs to me that a lot of male authors really like to write about the virtues of fishing (especially fly fishing). And they are usually much better at writing than they actually are at fishing. Harrison likes to write about fishing and young women. As far as themes go, the latter gets a little disturbing at times.

            Harrison’s main male characters tend to be benign and pathetic womanizers, heavy drinkers who try to wash away the sin by fishing. They also tend to be writers or liberal arts types, thinkers who are looking for an escape. In addition to True North, I have read The English Major. In both, the main character is more or less free to pursue his hollow desires, only to reach the inevitable conclusion that the only thing that matters is finding a familiar place to rest, preferably with a dog who likes to go fishing. Sounds about right to me.

            In True North, the main character is David Burkett, who, it seems, wants nothing more than to kill his father. (Nothing is said about wanting to sleep with his mother.) The Burketts live off of an inherited fortune that was accumulated on the backs of loggers who cleared the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. David’s father is the living patriarch, an alcoholic (like nearly everyone in the novel) who spends lavishly and indulges in pedophilia (young girls) as a birthright. David doesn’t want to be associated with his family name – in fact, he wants the family to be exposed for its crimes against nature. He alternates time between the family mansion and living in shacks in what’s left of the woods near Lake Superior. Since he doesn’t have to work for a living, David dabbles in religion but mostly takes long walks, goes fishing, and entertains thoughts of women. He spends the entire novel (covering a period of decades) working on his “project,” which is never quite defined but has something to do with painstakingly describing all of the places in certain areas of the U.P. where trees have been harvested. Harrison uses lengthy passages to detail the present geography while ruminating on the past. In the end, I guess, the novel itself is the project, which still makes no sense. The story concludes when David goes to Mexico (long story), where he manages to play a role in finalizing his father’s destiny, setting both of them free, more or less.

            I liked True North, but I can certainly see why many people would not. I would now like to go to the U.P. I like the idea of living in a shack with my dog and my projects, with plenty of money and nothing pressing to do but read and think and complain. I embrace the fictional notion of going into town to find a female companion when solitude and fishing get boring, which they rarely do. I like the thought of a long winter. 

           

When the Ground Turns in Its Sleep, by Sylvia Sellers-Garcia

I went to the library looking for a good book on the Guatemalan Civil War. I came home with a novel. When the Ground Turns in Its Sleep is the story of a young man, Nitido Aman, who travels to the country of his birth in search of himself. Nitido’s father has died in the U.S. after suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, taking untold stories to the grave.

            In Rio Roto, Nitido is mistaken for a priest. He assumes the role and uses it as leverage in an attempt to discover his family’s past. But stories and identities don’t reveal themselves easily in Guatemala. Although he speaks Spanish very well, there is a barrier that must be broken down slowly. Father Aman must learn how to listen all over again if he hopes to gain trust and uncover any truths. The poor villagers in Rio Roto and elsewhere are deeply scarred by the long guerrilla war that left thousands and thousands without family members – who were murdered or just disappeared. It’s hard to tell who’s on whose side. In the end, Nitido finds a way to trace his roots in the jungle.    

            When the Ground Turns in Its Sleep is a good fictional account of what Guatemala is like. The country is still feeling strong aftershocks, unnoticeable to many oblivious outsiders, from the savage civil war – which is a war that has been impossible for reporters and historians to describe in full. Sellers-Garcia manages to capture a glimpse of Guatemala, in the only way possible, through magic and realism.

Note: In an email, Sellers-Garcia told me that a good non-fiction book on the subject is The Art of Political Murder by Francisco Goldman.

Too Bright to Hear Too Loud to See, by Juliann Garey

This is a book I want to own. It could be a case of recency bias, but I think Too Bright to Hear Too Loud to See might be one of the best novels I’ve ever read.

Garey probably made her main character a man because Greyson Todd is an asshole and assholes are usually men. Greyson is also crazy. It’s easier for me to relate to a crazy asshole if that crazy asshole happens to be a man.

            Greyson is a rich Hollywood executive. He is bipolar. He leaves his wife and young daughter and travels the world, trying to outrun his insanity, trying to disappear and not disappear at the same time. Garey, who has had to deal with the debilitating results – high anxiety and low or manic depression – of being bipolar in real life, tells the story through the haphazard viewpoints of Greyson, who has finally ended up in a mental hospital, where he is undergoing electric shock treatment. During the ECT episodes, Greyson recalls vivid scenes from his childhood, his life in Los Angeles with his wife and daughter, and his time on the run, all flashing by in his unreliable memory for your reading pleasure. To his brain, the electric shock therapy is like radiation or chemotherapy is to a cancerous organ – like Napalm. The idea is to kill the enemy and salvage what’s left.

            In Rome, Greyson decides to do something touristy. He goes to see what is purported to be Jesus’ foreskin. There is a long line. “Jesus Christ, how long does it take to look at a fucking foreskin?” Greyson mutters under his breath to a group of Catholic schoolgirls.

            In Bangkok, he goes to grotesque sex shows. In Uganda, he pays a guide to take him to dangerous places. In Kenya, he marries a young widowed mother who, he knows, will soon be dying of AIDS. He gets arrested in Nairobi for freaking out in public. He hides out in Hell’s Kitchen. He does lots of mean things. He assumes multiple identities (including Lee Majors). He drinks heavily. He thinks he sees his daughter in cities all over the world. He sleeps with lots of women. He doesn’t sleep. He panics. He gets worse. He tries to get assistance to commit suicide but is turned down. You, meanwhile, cringe at him, laugh at him, feel sorry for him, and learn to root for him as his world closes shut. Everything is too bright, too loud. As a person who has had bouts with mental illness, you are thinking: Yes, Right, Nailed It.

            (Disclaimer: I think some people imagine that going crazy might be kind of fun; it is not. Others assume you are not in touch with reality. In many cases, you are too much in touch with reality.)

            Once the shock treatments start to wear off, Greyson, still crazy after all these years (but also still sharp as a tack), comes to terms with his disappearing acts. Because, after all, he wanted a Hollywood ending. And this novel will most definitely be made into a movie, one that should be great for crazy assholes and other people. I will buy tickets. I hope it’s really good.

P.S. I put a hold at the library on the Art of Scouting, by Art Stewart and Sam Mellinger. Looking forward to that.