Shiny Things
Books
By BOP Staff
August 30, 2004
1) A Heart at Fire's Center: The Life and Music of Bernard Herrmann (Steven C. Smith)
Filled with fascinating insights on a compositional genius with an ego to match, Heart at Fire's Center mixes biography, musicology and cinematic study to produce a balanced and nuanced study of Herrmann's life and career. Smith avoids both idol worship and idle gossip in piecing together the oft-conflicting personality of arguably one of the top three composers for film of all time. Beginning with Herrmann's upbringing and music training, through his early work in radio, to his cinema debut (partnered with fellow freshman Orson Welles) in scoring Citizen Kane, on to his most notable phase - his six historic scores for Alfred Hitchcock (plus a seventh that Hitch unceremoniously dumped), and finishing by jazzing it up with Martin Scorsese in Taxi Driver, Smith covers all of the bases in a pleasant, readable style. Highly recommended.
2) Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
War is hell. Surviving war can be too. Maybe you read Heller's masterpiece in high school; maybe like me you were supposed to but skipped it. Regardless, Catch-22 is worth discovering as an adult. It is a superlative novel. I mean that literally, by the way; it is the most ______ book I've ever read. Fill in the blank with brilliant, or cynical, or outrageous, or challenging, or read it and choose your own superlatives - you're sure to find some. Singularly unique in its style, scathingly uncompromising in its opinions, mind-bendingly, bitingly, wretchedly amusing. Heller's words don't so much advance the plot as paint a tapestry, unveiling the book's world in vignettes that mainly focus on the characters and the lunacy of their interactions. As you are absorbed into the landscape, you're only vaguely aware of the swirling, looping plot. If you don't mind a challenging read, it is well worth your time. And certainly, a novel that examines the sensibility of armed conflict and finds none is as topical today as it was when Heller used it to comment on Vietnam.
3) Bring on the Empty Horses (David Niven)
When most people think of David Niven, they see the sort of quintessential Englishman immortalized in Hollywood: Acerbic, wry wit; charming demeanor; bemused, somewhat detached air as he views and comments upon the goings-on around him. It was a role he played to greater and lesser degree in most of his films, and based upon both this and his previous book, The Moon's a Balloon, it certainly seems to be quite close to his off-screen persona as well. But the one thing one would not get from Niven's cinema resume that comes through quite clearly in his writing is that he was a raconteur extraordinaire, and a damned funny one, too. Bring on the Empty Horses is filled with amusing anecdotes about Hollywood's A- and B-list players in the '40s, '50s and '60s charmingly told by one of their own. These are not the tales of a bitter has-been or never-was, though; it is clear that Niven not only thoroughly enjoyed his time in the movies and those with whom he worked, but wants his readers to share his enjoyment. The book's title, by the way, comes from the misuse of a film term regarding equine cleanliness; I'll leave it to Niven to regale you with its meaning.
4) Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs (Chuck Klosterman)
America's most successful pop culture critic/commentator addresses such topics as Fonzie's virginity, the homeless, MTV's The Real World, Saved By The Bell, and Pamela Anderson. It's any pop culture fan's dream: to spend time telling everyone else what you think of pop culture and get paid for it. In fact, BOP is attempting to live that dream everyday. Unfortunately for us, we aren't all Chuck Klosterman. Klosterman's unique sense of timing and impressive writing makes him the pop culture equivalent of David Sedaris: smart, funny and self-aware. For a taste, try out Klosterman's e-mail exchange with ESPN.com Page 2's Bill "The Sports Guy" Simmons. And while you're at it, pop culture fans, if you like sports, surf around on Simmons' site.
5) Alexander Hamilton (Ron Chernow)
Ron Chernow is an award-winning biographer (Titan, his book on John D. Rockefeller is outstanding as well). With Alexander Hamilton, he sets out to set the record straight on the life and career of one of the most maligned, yet most influential founding fathers. In this exhaustively researched and detailed book, Chernow recounts Hamilton's rise from orphaned bastard Virgin Islands teenager to 22-year-old chief aide to George Washington in the Revolutionary War. He was founding father, shaper of the United States government and constitution, our nation's first Secretary of the Treasury, and finally, met his tragic end in a duel. Hamilton himself is relentlessly interesting; Chernow considers him one of the great minds in United States history.
6) Join Me (Danny Wallace)
"The true story of how one man started a cult…by accident" reads the cover of Danny Wallace's Join Me. Wallace, a BBC comedy writer prone to actually following through on the odd ideas he and his friends have, placed an ad in a London weekly paper with the words "Join Me" and directions to send a passport photo to a post office box. Thousands of passport photos and a book later, it's a full-fledged cult (or collective, if you prefer Wallace's definition) - the Karma Army, that does good deeds every Friday (on "Good Fridays", naturally). Well-written and funny, Join Me is a must for every Bill Bryson fan. Future members of the Karma Army can take a look around the Join Me Web site and interact with Joinees. The book, however, is all you need to have a good time. There's no joining requirement to read.
7) The West End Horror: A Posthumous Memoir of John H. Watson, M.D. (Nicholas Meyer)
Subtitled "A Posthumous Memoir of John H Watson, MD", The West End Horror is the second Sherlock Holmes pastiche written by Nicholas Meyer, who has gone on since to become a well-known writer and director for the big screen, most notably with the Star Trek: The Original Series film franchise. But Meyer started with his Holmes pastiches, and West End Horror is, frankly, the better of the two. Not bogged down with the heavy themes found in his first Holmes novel, The Seven Percent Solution, West End Horror has a much more lively pace, and a central mystery that is every bit as knotted and riveting as any that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ever produced. Meyers certainly knows his Canon well - he was, in fact, at one time a member of the LA scion of the Baker Street Irregulars - and he employs the conceit used in Irregulars circles that Holmes and Watson were real, and that Conan Doyle was simply Watson's Literary Agent. This allows Meyers to draw in historical figures from the era, lending an air of credibility that some pedantic types may find annoying, but which will almost certainly find favor with any Sherlockian. In The West End Horror, Meyers crafts an intricate puzzle that, as in the Canon, provides the reader with all the clues yet still manages to keep said soul in the dark until the great detective himself provides the solution. The West End Horror is every bit the equal of the best Holmes stories that Conan Doyle himself produced, and I would go so far as to say that it is actually better than some tales in the Canon. And even if you know little or nothing about Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, The West End Horror is still a ripping great mystery, and an engrossing read.
8) Modernism Rediscovered (Pierluigi Serraino and Julius Shulman)
This one’s mostly for architecture and design mavens, especially those who have more than a passing interest in the International Style and the way it manifested itself in America. The buildings on display in these pages represent some of the greatest works of the nation’s modernism and here look their finest, thanks to the high-style photography of Julius Shulman. While this tome would be a worthy document for the pictures alone, the sometimes cursory text offers enough historical background and informational filler to accent the visual beauty of these fantastic houses and various edifices. A steal at the price.
9) Day of the Triffids (John Wyndham)
One of the most underrated of older science fiction writers is John Wyndham, whose classic British novels have never really garnered the acclaim that they deserve. Probably best known for The Midwich Cuckoos — which has twice been transmitted to film under the title Village of the Damned — nearly all of Wyndham’s writings are worth a read for their intelligent plotting and engaging style. Triffids (which itself has been made into a film as well as having a pair of television incarnations) is the best of the lot, however, and though its alien invasion tale has dated a bit, the book still remains a worthwhile read. Best of all, this fine outing was reissued during 2003 as a part of the Modern Library’s 20th Century Rediscovery series, thus allowing readers new access to this neglected piece of fantastic fiction.
10) Powers: Who Killed Retro Girl? (Brian Michael Bendis/Michael Avon Oeming)
Some of the finest writing currently being published also comes with highly detailed artwork. Brian Michael Bendis, one of the true superstars in modern comic books, is a terrific example of this craft. Working with artist Michael Avon Oeming, Bendis' Powers series is a terrific example of what the medium can be: funny, smart, exciting and beautiful to look at (with a lot of curse words). Focusing on two police officers that investigate "Powers-related" crimes (crimes perpetrated by and on people with super powers), the series is consistently outstanding. Available in trade paperback/graphic novel format, there are actually six collections on shelves, but start from the beginning: Powers: Who Killed Retro Girl is the foundation of the series.
11) The Big Year: A Tale of Man, Nature, and Fowl Obsession (Mark Obmascik)
Good writers can make any subject interesting, particularly to those not familiar with it. In The Big Year: A Tale of Man, Nature, and Fowl Obsession, Mark Obmascik follows three men working on a "Big Year." For amateur bird-watchers, a "Big Year" means spending as much time as possible attempting to see as many different species of birds as possible. For the three men detailed in The Big Year, this means traveling all over the country, balancing checkbooks and personal lives, encounters with wild animals, and many, many hours of looking through binoculars. Birding - particularly competitive birding - is a subculture of its own, and Obmascik captures it well, describing the methodology of searching for the bird missing from your list. By the end of the book, one of the bird-watchers has seen a record 745 different species of birds, more than two per day, and traveled nearly 270,000 miles (nearly 740 per day) for his Big Year.
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