Houston Shakespeare Festival presents Othello

I saw this production on July 31st with my old BFF, Gerber. We were sad that my mother couldn’t join us at the last minute. But it was a good time, nevertheless.

I was very glad that I had reread this play before going to see it. I strongly believe that there’s no substitute for this strategy, at least with something like Shakespeare where the language of the play may be a bit foreign. To me, the beauty of a theatre company that really does its Shakespeare properly is that they speak the old English very naturally; but the companion quality, necessary to enjoy it, is the ability to hear it naturally. Having recently read the play, I was able to let the language flow through my head and get all the jokes. (To familiarize yourself, go back and read my review – or, better, go read the whole play!)

I thought the Houston Shakespeare Festival folks did a fine job. Othello was powerful. Iago was odious. Emilia was heroic, more so than in the written play, I felt. Desdemona was more powerful than in print, too: when I read the play she felt like a cowering, simpering, weakly woman, but onstage she came across as a woman with conviction. Granted, her conviction was of love and obedience to her husband, which is not so empowering as one might wish, but still, she spoke with commitment to her values.

I thought the production was wonderful. I was moved. I was also tired, which is a shame, and which I don’t mean as a criticism of the performance at all. But it was past my bedtime, and I drank some wine, and it was dark… Barrett, I guess you’re adding points to my senior card again. Sigh. I wish they could give these plays earlier in the day for us sleepy people, but then it would be too HOT.

The pace of the play was probably a bit slow for me. Maybe that’s my modern-day attention span, although I don’t consider myself to be entirely 21st-century-media-bytes-ADHD. (Can’t stand the Twitter.) Actually, the pacing bothered me a bit in print, too. Maybe it’s knowing what’s going to happen. “C’mon! Strangle her! Tell him how Cassio got the handkerchief! TELL HIM!” At any rate, I had a nice time, although I was out later than usual. And it’s a lovely, deeply tragic play, both on the page and on the stage.

the value of fiction

I want to share with you something that I wrote, oh, in 2007 or thereabouts. (I am resisting the urge to edit myself. It is a strong urge.) And then I think I will respond to myself. And hopefully you will share your thoughts, too.

My best friend is self-educated, and claims that he reads only non-fiction because he sees no value in studying fiction. He thinks that fiction’s purpose is entertainment, and he wants to learn new facts and better understandings of the world, and thus needs to read non-fiction. I like to counter with, for example, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. This book is fiction, but I think it’s pretty clear that its purpose is to teach and educate and hopefully to change minds about one of the most important issues of the last century.

One of my favorite books is Ernest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. This book is fiction, but closely based on the author’s experiences. It served an important purpose: it taught readers that the Spanish Civil War, and by extension war in general, is not one-sided and has no “right” side to it; once violence has begun, innocents on both sides will suffer and everyone finishes with blood on their hands. (I hope Hemingway will forgive me for brutally simplifying this masterly work for my purposes here.)

Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle is another great example of fiction that performed important social functions. Although Sinclair’s concerns began by centering on social issues, food safety turned out to be an enormous beneficiary of his work, as public response was enormous. Historical perspective on this book in its time helps us to understand its significance; however, just reading the novel without context would give a person new respect for the purposes of fiction.

The question of whether Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn should be taught in high schools strikes me as a parallel to my friend’s complaint about fiction. It is clear to me that this work should be taught to high school students because, while it is fiction, it brings to light some extraordinarily important and very real questions. For example, Huck’s relationship with Jim and the development of their friendship addresses the humanity of slaves and the moral rectitude of this American institution. The racial slurs need to be read by high school students – with the right guidance – to teach beyond the idea that they are wrong, to why they are wrong.

Thus, the question of whether to teach Huck Finn is the same as the larger question, why read fiction? (For that matter, if it’s not worth reading, why write it?) I find the study of literature (fiction and otherwise) to be pleasurable as well as important, so I take it upon myself to argue on its behalf. My assertion is that just because a story is not true, does not mean it can’t hold massive significance on wildly important issues. For that matter, if fiction were truly and solely for entertainment as my brother asserts, one could argue that there is value in this purpose as well. Humans need entertainment to draw their minds off of the problems of our world; to blow off steam; to relax and/or exercise our minds. If fiction served no higher purpose than these, it would still be worthwhile to write, and read, and study, fiction. However, I find that fiction can serve the purposes of, for example, bringing a nation’s and a planet’s attention to dire social issues: the enslavement of blacks by whites; the wage slavery of many white and nonwhite immigrants to the United States; the corruption and lack of hygiene in a meatpacking industry; and the damage inflicted by massive violence on a people. I continue to bring my friend works of fiction to read.

Urges to edit this piece of writing aside, I stand by my original position. On the other hand, I’ve also written before about the perils of reading historical fiction for educational purposes. While my friend has not specifically used this argument (that I recall), I think it’s an important concern. If we read really convincing, accurate, moving, memorable historical fiction, I think we run the risk of taking it as fact. Even the most discerning and aware reader (even me!) could end up with blurred lines in her subconscious about what she learned in a nonfiction vs. a fiction book. Once I learn a “fact,” it can be hard to call up its source, especially years later. This is especially concerning for someone like my friend in question, who is a highly intelligent man and who likes to have serious debates. I think he feels the importance of being able to cite one’s sources.

So I acknowledge the dangers of confusing high-quality historical fiction with fact. And even more confusing are the books that are billed as nonfiction and get questioned years after the fact (ahem, James Frey and Greg Mortenson). How’s a person to keep it all straight? Don’t even get me started on the library patron who was SURE, and could not be convinced otherwise, that John Grisham only writes nonfiction books. Everything in The Firm happened, she says. I couldn’t talk her out of it. (This is why the front of the book says, “This is a work of fiction…”)

So I do respect some of the challenges. My position hasn’t changed; if anything, I feel more strongly than ever that fiction is important. Some of the fiction I see doing good work in my day-to-day job is not even what we might call Important Fiction – it’s a lot of Louis Lamour, Danielle Steel, Debbie Macomber, and James Patterson, in fact. I work in a cancer hospital where my little library provides leisure reading for people experiencing incredible difficulties, great pain, or great fear. If reading Nora Roberts/J.D. Robb improves their day, I rate the value of even this pop/genre/fluffy/call-it-what-you-will fiction very, very high. My favorite examples are still Huck Finn, The Jungle, and the like. (Also Slaughterhouse-Five…) But it goes beyond such Important Books. Fiction can be beneficial, enlightening, world-changing, and uplifting in so many ways. Also, it can be fun. What’s so bad about that?

I’m not the first to ask this question or to try to answer it; and I’m certainly not the most eloquent, articulate, thorough, or exhaustive. Have you seen any great examples of answers to the question, “what is the value of fiction?” Do you have a great answer? I would love to hear (read) it. Do you disagree? I would be interested to read your argument on either side.

On a related note, I’m still hoping to find time to tackle Mightier than the Sword: Uncle Tom’s Cabin and the Battle for America by David S. Reynolds. Maybe I’ll have something new to contribute soon!

10 books you should have read in high school: a fresh list

Recently several of you commented on 10 books you should have read in high school. They’re back. Here is an alternate list of 10 books, leaning towards more recent, “experimental” choices. Do you like these any better? Unsurprisingly, my readership level is much lower here: only 2 of 10, as opposed to 8 of 10 in the first round.

  • Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace: No.
  • Maus, Art Spiegelman: No, but I’m interested.
  • Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy: Haven’t read. Interested, but also intimidated. Tolstoy intimidates me.
  • Swamplandia!, Karen Russell: No. But I did buy it for the library!
  • Reality Hunger, David Shields: huh?
  • The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy: No, but it was recently discussed here… I took it off the shelf :-/
  • Against Interpretation, Susan Sontag: No, but I think I’m in favor all the same!
  • Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card: I read this one! Just recently, for a reader’s advisory class. Very much enjoyed it, recommend it, and see an application for high schoolers. Think it would be well received, too.
  • The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Robert Heinlein: No, but I did read Stranger in a Strange Land as self-education while I was in high school. That recommendation came from my parents and fit into the same period, for me, as 1984 (loved) and Brave New World (didn’t really work for me but maybe I should try again?).
  • Beloved, Toni Morrison: I read this for school. Must have been high school. Enjoyed and could recommend for this purpose.

Please share your thoughts? We all like a good list, yes? (Or a list we can argue the goodness of…)

I don’t regret the books I’ve read, but those I did not read

I work in a library that focuses mostly on fiction, mostly on bestsellers, and mostly on recent releases. Recently released bestselling fiction is the big hit, although we certainly carry exceptions to each category, too. I get asked a lot about books. I get asked for advice on what a patron should read – this is the most common and the most natural and appropriate; I’ve taken courses and read books about “reader’s advisory” service, which means advising what books a person might enjoy, based on what they’ve enjoyed (or not) in the past. (I still consider myself woefully inadequate, mostly because we can’t read them all! But I try – and I’m familiar with what’s expected, with what reader’s advisory entails, even when I can’t perform.) Almost as frequently, I get asked about what I am reading, what I like to read, what I’ve read recently. This can be a tricky one. It should be easy – I should be able to answer honestly, and that should often lead to a fun, stimulating conversation, even if our reading tastes differ. (Which is fine! I like to say, how boring would it be if we all liked the same things? And how long the lines would be, too!) But sometimes I get some strange questions or strange responses. Today, when asked what the last book I read was, I answered truthfully: The Taming of the Shrew. I was rewarded with deep, uncontrollable belly laughter as the patron stumbled out wiping his eyes. I don’t entirely understand. Carry on, sir.

I also get asked difficult questions, like, “which Christian fiction author do you like to read?” The truthful answer is none; the diplomatic answer is “Jan Karon and Karen Kingsbury are very popular. What are you looking for? Who have you enjoyed in the past?” It always makes me smile bemusedly when people ask me, “do you read?” (I’m sure there is a librarian out there who doesn’t, but really.) Or another favorite, when a big batch of hot-off-the-presses, brand-new books arrive: “have you read all of these?” To which I reply, “no. I put them out for you all, first.” But sometimes I can’t resist grabbing a brand new one, I confess. The Reversal and The Paris Wife both came straight home with me, for example. And sometimes I get to read a gally before publication, as I did with Chevy Stevens’ Never Knowing (review yet to come, via Shelf Awareness). But mostly, my access to our library’s new books is limited in the same way my patrons’ access is: by availability. Also, I’m very busy, have lots of reading to do, and try to prioritize their access more highly than my own.

I do get excited about a lot of the books that I buy for the library. And I do get to read a lot of them, but I miss more than I hit. By how many? Well, I got curious. Out of 2011 book orders to date, I have read (in no particular order):

**Some of these were among the best I’ve read this year, too.

But on the other hand, I wanted to read:

  • Turn of Mind, Alice LaPlante
  • Once Upon a River, Bonnie Jo Campbell
  • County: Life, Death and Politics at Chicago’s Public Hospital, David Ansell
  • Tolstoy and the Purple Chair: My Year of Magical Reading, Nina Sankovitch
  • The Invisible Line: Three American Families and the Secret Journey from Black to White, Daniel J. Sharfstein
  • The Clamorgans: One Family’s History of Race in America, Julie Winch
  • The Story of Beautiful Girl, Rachel Simon
  • The Reading Promise: My Father and the Books We Shared, Alice Ozma
  • Ruby Red, Kerstin Gier
  • The Butterfly’s Daughter, Mary Alice Monroe
  • Claire DeWitt and the City of the Dead, Sara Gran
  • I’ll Never Get Out of This World Alive, Steve Earle
  • Mightier Than the Sword: Uncle Tom’s Cabin and the Battle for America, David S. Reynolds
  • Georgia Bottoms, Mark Childress
  • One of Our Thursdays is Missing, Jasper Fforde
  • Mr. Chartwell, Rebecca Hunt
  • Oracle of Stamboul, Michael David Lukas
  • Cleaning Nabokov’s House, Leslie Daniels
  • Crime: Stories, Ferdinand von Schirach

…that’s a lot of books. I may still make it to several of these – I have my heart set on County, for example. (I want to continue my reading of history and historical fiction in Chicago and the northeast, as in The Devil in the White City, Newspaper Titan, Around the World on Two Wheels and Clara and Mr. Tiffany.) But others will just fall off my wish list gradually for lack of attention – or move up it, if someone else raves. This is the joyful problem of the avid reader and professional librarian: so many options, so little time.

I know I’m not alone! What has passed you by this year that you’re still hoping to find time for? Or, what DID you find time for that turned out really, really well? Best of 2011? (We’re talking published in 2011 here for now. My best of 2011 [published in] are those asterisked, above.) Anything really terrible? (I found Gone with a Handsomer Man very disappointing.) Please do share. Tell me I’m not alone. 🙂

10 books you really should have read in high school

I’m a sucker for a list like this.

MSN gives us a list of 10 books you really should have read in high school.

  • Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
  • The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Nawthorne
  • The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
  • The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
  • Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
  • Siddhartha by Herman Hesse
  • Lord of the Flies by William Golding
  • The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
  • To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  • The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand

My stats on this list are pretty good: 8 out of 10. Here’s your list again with my comments.

  • Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: I found this moving and interesting; I think I read it twice in high school, and only once was required. Thumbs up.
  • The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Nawthorne: I’m pretty sure I didn’t read this book until I was back in college after my BA, taking post-bacc courses. It was required reading, then. I did find it to address some important concepts, and I think it would do well in high school, too. Thumbs up.
  • The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger: I did read this in high school, although I feel fairly sure it wasn’t for school. Although there is no end of discussion of and raving about this book, it didn’t grab me. Perhaps there’s something specifically male about the perspective. I found it dull. Because I know it’s spoken of as being important, I’ll generously give it a meh.
  • The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: Wonderful book. Was required reading for me in high school and I think it should be. Thumbs decidedly up.
  • Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen: Nobody made me read this in high school, but it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read. Funny, and relevant in any age, witty, clever, and important. Thumbs up!
  • Siddhartha by Herman Hesse: Have never read. You tell me, what am I missing?
  • Lord of the Flies by William Golding: Loved it. Read for school in high school. I think this is an important book. Thumbs up, absolutely.
  • The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain: If I had to choose just one that every high school kid should read, this would be it.
  • To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee: Another no-brainer in my book.
  • The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand: And here’s the other I’ve never read. I have heard that Ayn Rand is a) difficult and b) not, politically, for everyone. What are your thoughts? This is certainly the first I’ve heard of her as a high school required reading selection.

Please share, what are your reactions? How many have you read?

fitting it all in

This is a lovely problem to have, in the scheme of things, I think. I have too many reading materials! Here am I with a pen & paper, trying to plan & schedule how I will get all of these read in the time allotted. Sigh. Here’s what I’m up to these days…

Don Quixote, by Cervantes, trans. J.M. Cohen

I’m pleased with myself for getting into this chunky classic, and a bit surprised at what easy reading I’m finding it. Quite entertaining, in fact. But unfortunately, due to other commitments (ahem, a number of galleys and 1 scheduled readalong) I think it will have to be put down for a little while! Luckily, it reads as a series of short adventures and therefore I think it will tolerate being put down and picked up pretty well.

The Female Quixote, by Charlotte Lennox

To follow on the heels of Don Quixote, hopefully quickly. Don’t know what I’m getting into but I’ve been excited about the idea of this companion-read for quite a while.

Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

The Great Gone With the Wind Readalong is being hosted by The Heroine’s Bookshelf‘s blog. I have been meaning to read this book for the last several years (and funny that I made it that far in life without putting it on the list any earlier). I tried to resist the temptation of this readalong, but I couldn’t do it. I like Blakemore’s approach to the rest of the books in The Heroine’s Bookshelf, that I have read, and I like the idea of having companions. So here we go, kids. This is when my reading plate begins to look perhaps a bit overfull, because…

I have some galleys to review, too.

Hemingway’s Boat: Everything He Loved in Life, and Lost, 1934-1961, by Paul Hendrickson

If you’ve been reading my blog for any time at all you’re probably aware that I adore Hemingway’s writing and am fascinated by his life. I’m so excited about this one!

On Bicycles: 50 Ways the New Bike Culture Can Change Your Life, by Amy Walker (Editor)

Another based on my personal affinity, this time for bicycles. I don’t know much about this book but hope to find it wonderful.

The Barbarian Nurseries, by Héctor Tobar

A novel of multicultural Los Angeles and hidden family histories.

Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest, by Wade Davis

The product description claims, “Beautifully written and rich with detail, Into the Silence is a classic account of exploration and mountaineering, and a timeless portrait of a few iconic men.” That was enough to get me interested.

Belzoni: The Giant Archaeologists Love to Hate, by Ivor Noël Hume

A Bitter Truth: A Bess Crawford Mystery, by Charles Todd

Dancing with the Queen, Marching with King: The Memoirs of Alexander “Sam” Aldrich, by Sam Aldrich

Shambles, by Debra Monroe

On the Outskirts of Normal, by Debra Monroe

Defensive Wounds: A Novel of Suspense, by Lisa Black

…and I’m also trying to reread Othello and The Taming of the Shrew before I go see both plays in the next week and a half.

Whew! That should keep me busy! What are you reading lately? Any of these excite you?

how to build a home library

Katie over at cakes, tea and dreams published a lovely post the other day called a library of friends. She won me over by opening with a lovely quotation from Anne’s House of Dreams (one of the sequels to Anne of Green Gables, for those not in the know), which I recognized immediately – what fun. (Go read it over there.) And then she tells us about her home library, and asks, “How do you curate your library?”

Well. Unlike Katie, whose very ordered methods and selectivity I admire, I don’t have it all thought out quite that well. My home library consists of a few broad categories.

  • Classics and academic works from high school, college, and grad school. I have very few, if any, what you might call “textbooks” – they tend to be classic lit or philosophy. I confess that relatively few of these have been or will be reread, but I guess I like to have them there for reference or to remind me of what I’m supposed to know. Of course, a handful of these are among my favorite books and have enjoyed several rereads: the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Oresteia (all from high school). Others I’ve been pleased to reread, like Vanished Arizona by Martha Summerhayes, and The Courage of Their Convictions by Peter Irons (from college).
  • Classics, more generally. Shakespeare, Nabokov, Fitzgerald, Hemingway (of course), Austen, the Brontes, and Toni Morrison are all well represented, along with a number of singles. These aren’t going anywhere.

my Hemingway library

  • Genre fiction. I see no point in owning this sort of thing, really! I have very, very, very rarely purchased a mass market paperback copy of a thriller or murder mystery novel. These, in my opinion, should flow freely through the world, just as they do in the hospital where I work – share and share alike. Yes, human nature sometimes gets in the way of this. But mostly, I am happy with my mother handing me a book, or picking one up at work, and then leaving it somewhere when I finish – especially when traveling. My method of lightening the load is to carry many books at the beginning of a trip, and then leave them behind in hotels, train stations, or on trains, etc., as we go. For this reason I obviously wouldn’t take with me a book I meant to keep! But for genre fiction, I find this a good policy. I have tended to have trouble getting rid of these books (when not traveling), but working at a library has helped. I just donate them to my work library. Still have a number of genre paperbacks on my shelves, though; I think my problem is inertia. If a book has been on my shelves for long enough, it is unlikely to leave without good reason.
  • Special interest: I have books about beer and books about bikes, and just a few books about dogs. These are few, but important, and treasured.
  • ARCs? (Advanced Reader Copies – for review.) Not so much. I don’t tend to get attached to these unless they’re especially good, and generally they would have to be something other than genre fiction, too. I’m more likely to keep nonfiction/biography, because of the chance of referring back to it.
  • Good-looking older hardback books, either in beautifully good condition, or battered into an especially charming state. I have a weakness for these.
  • TBR!!! (to be read. you knew that, right?) As I’ve written before, I have a whole bookshelf of TBR books. :-/ These come from all kinds of sources. Some of them are given to me (physically) by friends (hi Fil, Amy) or my mother; many are given to me (as ideas) by friends, other book bloggers, bestseller lists, and (sigh) perhaps my greatest weakness, the book buying I do for the work-library. Also there’s my ever-expanding TBR list.

So I guess my conclusion is, I don’t have a terribly well-ordered method of deciding what to add to the library. Hypothetically, I like Katie’s plan of considering each book carefully as one that I will want to own, reread, refer to, and/or loan out. It should meet some sort of standard for inclusion on my illustrious shelves. In reality, however, I have a touch of the hoarder in me. ANY book is liable to end up on the shelf, at least until I find a good home for it. I recently purged: one book that had broken in three pieces and was only genre fiction in the first place, went into paper recycling, and I think I took another 8 or so to work to donate. How’s that for a purge? Single digits. Sigh. Of course, you could help me out by commenting on what to get rid of!

Katie makes an excellent point about bookstores and our need to support them. I don’t do very well at this. I agree with the principle, but don’t seem to get out there much. Mostly, this is because I work at a library, and have my city’s public library system at my fingertips (online). I just don’t find much reason to make new purchases, these days. When I do, I’m loyal to my local Half Price Books. Hey, it’s still a brick-and-mortar!

I think it might be a good project to try and have a more carefully curated home library. I love the idea of everything on my shelves being something I stand behind, found memorable, and could recommend. (Or, is still waiting TBR. This is why I like having a separate bookshelf. “See, these I know are good. These I’m not sure about yet.”) I have a ways to go. But this is a good project! And it would benefit my work-library, too.

How about you? How do you curate?

update: more answer to the question, what is a classic?

The other day, y’all, I was really delighted to find a new blog called Dead White Guys: An Irreverent Guide to Classic Literature. This sounds like great fun. I like her philosophy, from my explorations so far. Check it out.

I was perhaps most excited, however, to find her answer to the question: What makes a classic? (You can visit my musing attempt at an answer here.)

I find that we mostly agree. Amanda says a classic is “a book that is timeless (but not necessarily old), excellently written, and contributes to the Great Conversation of human thought (to borrow a phrase from Robert Hutchins).” (Ahem: the Great Conversation is also the name of an annual event at my alma mater. Thank you.) So. I also said timelessness was a criterion, but I am still concerned that maybe there should be some sort of wait list? What if we all LOVE this new book in 2011 and think it’s a classic – can we really know, in 2011, if it will pass the test of timelessness?

Excellently written (elsewhere she says “artistically well done”), yes, absolutely also a criterion. But this is a hairy mess of subjectivity. Taken on a case-by-case basis, and assuming I am the judge of this, okay. Excellently written. I shall judge.

Contributing to the Great Conversation a la Robert Hutchins is an excellent requirement, too. That’s one I left off of my earlier (totally inadequate) musings on the subject. Again, subjective, but I think we might be able to agree on this one a little more easily. Of course all judging of the merits of Art face this problem. Also, what if a book is timeless, and beautifully written, but doesn’t tackle the kind of difficult themes that might cause it to make Contributions? Still a classic?

Do you have any thoughts to share? I’m always interested in input on this subject; it continues to bother me. Please comment. And go check out Dead White Guys; I’ll be doing the same.

different strokes

I’m a big reader. Always have been. I’m pretty sure that our fate as readers – either joyful, voracious readers or reluctant ones – is set firmly in childhood. Those who learn to read hungrily as kids will know how to read hungrily forever – they may get too busy to do it right all their lives, but they can always return to such behavior, and I hope they will. Those who don’t learn to really love reading as children are unlikely to ever learn the same abandon in hours (and hours) of reading later. I’m sure there are exceptions (I certainly hope there are exceptions, to that second part of my theory) but I think this is generally true. I am a reader. Husband is not. He reads magazine articles, sometimes. He has read one book that I know of in our years together. But recently we discovered an ability to share an audiobook on a long drive, and I find this lovely. These days he asks for audiobooks when he’s going to fly somewhere for work. I feel so good about helping him find a way to appreciate books.

So the other night I’m on the couch, as usual, and Husband is on the loveseat, as usual, except NOT as usual, I don’t have a book in my lap to defend me from the television. Rather, I have a laptop and I’m researching a few beers that Husband has expressed an interest in: the black IPA (made by 512 brewing, as it turns out) and what I remembered as the Belgian IPA which turns out to be the BPA – Belgian pale ale – made by Ommegang (as I thought). And I look up and see this crazy whatnot that Husband has on the television and I say, what movie is this? and he says, it’s The Bone Collector. I say gasp! that’s a book! it’s a book by Jeffery Deaver.

This reminds me of that other day when I said gasp! oh boy, the Odyssey on audiobook, how wonderful. He said, Space 2001? I said, Homer!

I’ve never read any Deaver, although I certainly know of him (through the library where I work) as a genre author. I know his serial detective is Lincoln Rhyme. But I didn’t know until I caught this movie that he’s quadriplegic! The movie was quite good – I watched a good chunk of the middle part of it. All-star cast includes Denzel Washington (Rhyme himself), Angelina Jolie (of whom Husband is not a fan), Queen Latifah, and Luiz Guzmán, who I like very much. (I always remember him fondly from Punch-Drunk Love.) I think I might pick up one of Deaver’s books one of these days.

But my real point here is that while Husband and I approach books from very different starting points, we both still see books in our lives. (He’s seen a lot more books in his life since his wife became a librarian.) And I think that’s a beautiful thing. Even if my beer research and his television watching made up our route to books on this particular evening, it’s the destination that’s important.

Broadway presents Chicago

Mom and I went to see the Broadway production of Chicago play here in Houston a few weeks ago. She had seen it before, in London, and we had each seen the movie; I have the soundtrack and love it. It was neat to see a show that was so very familiar to me. I think this was a unique experience for me in a Broadway show; I guess seeing A Midsummer Night’s Dream is comparable (in my familiarity), but not much else. Certainly, if I were to see RENT again… This had me tempted to sing along, but I refrained for the good of those seated nearby. 🙂 These performers are too great for me to, ahem, help them out.

John O'Hurley as Billy Flynn

Do you know the story? Roxie Hart has been cheating on her boring husband Amos in 1920’s Chicago, when her boyfriend threatens to leave her. Not able to take this final rejection, after years of trying to make it in vaudeville, she shoots him in her rage. While imprisoned, she meets the famed vaudeville star Velma Kelly, awaiting trial for killing her sister (and partner on the stage) and her husband when she caught the two of them together. Popular culture, entertainment and stardom are mixed up with criminal infamy in Jazz-Age Chicago, and Roxie wants to be just like Velma. Step one is securing the same top-shelf lawyer, Billy Flynn, who makes a name for Roxie while getting her off on the murder rap.

But like most Broadway musical theatre, the story is secondary. This is a great story, a strong plot with hilarious characters – one of the better stories you’ll find – but still, the song and dance is the main point. I was so thrilled to see live performances of my favorite numbers, like the Cell Block Tango, When You’re Good to Mama, Mister Cellophane, and Razzle Dazzle.

Tracy Shayne as Roxie Hart

This is a great show, and I have to agree with all the promotional hype that says if you’re going to see just one, or your first, Broadway show, this is an excellent choice.

I will also say, though, that I loved the movie. For me, Roxie Hart IS Renee Zellwegger; Billy Flynn is Richard Gere, Velma Kelly is Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Mama is most definitely Queen Latifah. The woman who played Mama in Houston has an amazing voice, but Queen Latifah gave her more sass.

It was a great time all the same, and I recommend Chicago in any and all its forms – however you can get it. Thanks Pops for another great time!