Ask the Dust

A while back, while discussing my affection for the writings of Charles Bukowski, a friend of mine, and I forget exactly who, mentioned that I should check out John Fante's "Ask the Dust." Back in the spring time, this conversation crossed my mind while I wandered the shops at the LA Times Festival of Books, where, lo and behold, I found a copy - complete with an introduction and ringing endorsement written by Charles Bukowski.

The novel itself is filled with tales of Arturo Bandini, a struggling writer in Los Angeles. He lives off a few meager dollars, stolen milk, and the hope that a few more stories will lead him to fame and fortune. Alas, even in his meager state, he falls madly in love (emphasize the madly) with the Mexican waitress at the local bar. Their love-hate relationship goes on-again-off-again through most of the book while Bandini desperately tries to put together his next great story and scrounge up his next meal. The emotional climax of the story takes place during the Long Beach earthquake of 1933.

Overall, I don't have that much to say about this book. It was good, mainly because it reminded me of Bukowski's work. It was clear, after merely a chapter or two, how much of an influence Fante was on Bukowski. Although Fante lacks Bukowski's brutal and stark prose, he definitely led the way on telling crisp true stories. I might pick up another Fante book, if I ever get tired of re-reading the Bukowski books.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Directed by: Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones

Written by: Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Michael Palin

To say that "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" is a classic would be an understatement. The film is a cultural asteroid which destroyed the world of comedy that came before it and reshaped the landscape of cinematic humor forever. (Alright, maybe I exaggerate a bit. But only slightly, in this case.)

For weeks, I anticipated seeing this movie as part of the Classic Film Wednesday series at my local theater. I originally saw it when I was far to young to understand most of the cruder jokes, but could repeat many of the slapstick gags and scenes ad nauseam. It remained a staple of semi-annual viewing all the way through high school, but I hadn't seen it since I went to college and realize that just about everyone I knew had already seen it and could also repeat just about the entire movie. At that point, my special edition DVD (with all the deleted scenes and extras) became a bookshelf decoration and I moved on to experiencing different pop cultural mainstays.

All this to say - the time had come to re-see the film I had memorized by heart, rehearsed a million times, and filed away in the back of my brain.

The good news is that my memory is pretty darn good. I managed to remember just about every line in the film, perhaps fumbling a bit with a few of the words and phrasings.

It was nice to appreciate the film on the big screen for once, having seen it hundreds of times on my parents' postage-stamp television.

For the first time, I was able to appreciate some of the technical aspects of the film, such as the ability of the Monty Python actors to play multiple roles - sometimes even within the same scene. Some of the meta-film features made more sense than before, too. ("Look! It's the old man from Scene 24!") I won't even get into all dirty jokes which went over my head as a kid (and even a few that I missed as a teenager).

I was afraid that I wasn't going to enjoy this film, having never actually seen it in years. I was not disappointed, though.

Skippy Dies

Occasionally, but not frequently, a book comes along that blows me out of the water. Even more rarely, this book is a contemporary novel. But when the stars align just right, a book like "Skippy Dies" appears, and I briefly feel that literature has a future.

The death of Daniel 'Skippy' Juster via donut, and the events preceding and proceeding the event, make up the narrative of the novel. More importantly, though are the characters and circumstances that lead to his final words - written in jelly on the floor of the donut shop - and the impact his death has on the world around him, from his friends to his enemies, and even his history teacher.

I can honestly say that the author - Paul Murray - captures life at an Irish boarding school perfectly (at least as far as I'm concerned, based on my experiences as an American middle school teacher). The drama and conflict between the characters is perfectly portrayed as both mundane (in the big picture) and life-changing (in their small world).

It is hard to put into words how amazing I find this novel, even (now) months after I finished reading it.

The key to this novel is its balance. It is at times laugh-out-loud-funny, but edge-of-your-seat-thrilling at others, and even kinda-makes-you-think-deep at others. None of these features diminishes the others in this book, which is often a flaw in other novels. Instead, they all build upon each other to a fantastic piece of literary artwork.

Murray effectively shows the teenage angst of trying to find meaning, purpose, and connection in life through the character of Ruprecht, whose obsession with an obscure physics concept known as M-Theory leads him to believe that he might be able to communicate with his dead roommate. Meanwhile, Murray also shows how those same struggles play out in adult life through the history teacher Howard Fallon. Though Ruprecht and Fallon - whose lives are connected, though they don't realize it - may have different symbols for their dreams, their ultimate desire remains the same.

The plot and characters and themes of this novel are powerful, in and of themselves. Topped off with Murray's prose - which can only be described as masterful and elegant - this book is as near to perfect as any contemporary novel can be, in my opinion.

Go read it. Now.