Thursday, September 27, 2012

John Gormley's double standard

Back in June, John Gormley wrote movingly in his newspaper column about the need to "tear away the stigma" from people who "selfmedicate to try and make the pain go away." The disease that afflicts these people, Gormley writes, "is not a character flaw. It is not a weakness."
Damn, I remember thinking. Gormley finally gets it.
But it turns out Gormley doesn't get it. This week, on his radio show and his Twitter feed (maybe on his LinkedIn network as well), he's been railing against public health initiatives that are proven to save both lives and taxpayer dollars.
It's confusing. Or it was. Until I realized that Gormley's compassion when it comes to mental health and addiction issues only extends to folks like Darren Wourms or Dave Batters, who look like Gormley. People who do street drugs don't look like John, so why should he care?
Even as Saskatchewan's HIV rates soar, to the point where the province has even developed its own strain of the virus, Gormley continues argue against sane public health policy. Gormley perpetrates absolute myths about needle exchanges and demonizes the people--daughters and sons, mothers and fathers--who use them. This isn't just Gormley's usual brand of cheap, hollow political rhetoric. His deliberate dissemination of misinformation puts lives at risk. At best, it's irresponsible. At worst...


Sunday, September 09, 2012

Otto Penzler is wrong.


Last week, Publishers Weekly posted an op-ed by esteemed publisher and bookseller Otto Penzler entitled "Why the Best Mysteries Are Written in English". It is one of the most wrong-headed and detestable things I've ever read on the subject of crime or mystery fiction.

First off, let me say that I have nothing but respect for Penzler as a publisher and editor. I have been a faithful reader of his annual Best American Crime Writing (later Reporting) collections since 2002, and the creepy signpost logo of his Mysterious Press imprint is, to me, a guarantee of quality. Mysterious Press has published some of my favourite crime writers: James Crumley, Jerome Charyn, Paco Ignacio Taibo II. So when Penzler has something to say, I am damn well paying attention.

Unfortunately, what he has to say here is ridiculous, and frankly, beneath him.

He begins with a thesis and a disclaimer:

It is an inarguable fact that virtually everything of interest and significance in the history of detective fiction has been written in the English language, mainly by American and English authors.
This is not chauvinistic, racist, insular, or opinionated; it is merely reportage.

Racist? Okay, it's not racist. Chauvinistic, insular or opinionated? And how! Reportage? In a very broad sense, it is, but it's also poor reportage.
Penzler's argument starts off silly, claiming that fictional detectives can only be successful if they are based on real-life models. To me, this unqualified bunk. Fiction is, by its very definition, made-up. The factuality of its origin is entirely irrelevant. Richard Price, who describes his writing style as "photo-realistic", told Paris Review this:

Actual writing is no fun for me. Going out and hanging out and getting impressions out there on the streets, that’s fun. I was running with everybody. I was like one of those guys who jumps off the stage into the audience and gets passed around. I got myself passed around for three years. So you’ve got all these good lines in a notebook, but then what? I think it was Norman Mailer who said that the fact that something really happened is the defense of the bad novelist. At some point I got so hooked on research that after a while it seemed out of the question to make things up. Ultimately, everything in Clockers was pure fiction, but in the beginning I had to learn enough about the texture of truth out there in order to have the confidence to make up lies, responsible lies.

Penzler goes on to describe how these models of proper detective fiction can only exist in democratic societies. Very excellent books--written in English, mind you--by Dan Fesperman, Martin Cruz Smith and Philip Kerr put the lie to Penzler's weird claim that heroic police protagonists can only exist under British or American democracy. Then he brings up poor old Auguste Dupin, Edgar Allan Poe's amateur sleuth, and it becomes clear that Penzler is talking here about a very specific kind of detective story but, infuriatingly, he never really pins down what that is. Poe's "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" is the only English language story he cites.
The column devolves from there into broad generalizations about detective stories of other countries. Russians write "novels of simplistic sex and violent crime"; Asian mysteries "tended to be of the Arabian Nights variety"; Scandinavian potboilers are "depressing, with dark skies, cold winds, self-destructive alcoholic detectives, and an utter lack of humor."
"If you want to wallow in noir," Penzler writes, ScandiCrime books are "a good bet."
Whatever argument Penzler is making here reeks of whatever we're going to call the crime fiction equivalent of Rockism. He's not really arguing that the best detective stories are written in English, by Americans or Brits, he's tautologically saying--reporting, going back to his disclaimer--that detective stories in the style of American and British writers are best written by writers who are American or British. Which is a fine thing to say. You know? If he had written a column that started along the lines of "Hi, I'm Otto Penzler, one of the most important behind the scenes figures on the American crime fiction scene of the last 40 years. Here's what I like and here's why I like it." I would have read that with gusto and learned something. Instead, we've got this muddled mess of ill-got conclusions from ill-considered premises that Penzler's own work as an editor and publisher disprove.
As I mentioned before, many of Paco Ignacio Taibo's books--among them Leonardo's Bicycle, my personal favourite detective story ever--were published in English by Penzler's Mysterious Press, translated from Spanish. Granted, L's B definitely falls outside of the tradition of Poe for which Penzler seems to be claiming exclusive authenticity.  But it was because of Penzler that this book became readable to me, an act for which I am obscenely grateful. Reading Taibo opened my eyes to what sort of writer I could be, what sort of writer I wanted to be. (Read him, he's great.)
But--and this is most definitively my opinion, I make no claims of reportage here--two of the finest series that do adhere to the Anglo-American police procedural tenets were written in languages other than English. From Sweden, Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö's ten-volume Martin Beck series remains unsurpassed in the police procedural subgenre. Contrary to Penzler's accusations, the series is full of humour, as the following passage from The Fire Engine That Disappeared shows:
Ten yards away stood a lone dismal figure, a pipe in his mouth and his hands thrust deep down in his coat pockets. This was Fredrik Melander of the Murder Squad in Stockholm and a veteran of hundreds of difficult investigations. He was generally known for his logical mind, his excellent memory and unshakeable calm. Within a smaller circle, he was most famous for his remarkable capacity for always being in the toilet when anyone wanted to get hold of him. His sense of humour was not nonexistent, but very modest; he was parsimonious and dull and never had brilliant ideas or sudden inspiration. Briefly, he was a first-class policeman.
For more on the Beck series, go read Canadian critic Rohan Maitzen's excellent essay over at the Los Angeles Review of Books.
And then there's Belgian Georges Simenon and his inexhaustible Maigret novels.
By my reading, the Beck books and the Maigret books defined the contemporary crime novel and I rate them, on a whole, higher than the works of Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Ross Macdonald. And I like those guys a lot. But that's me.
I'm not nearly as well read as I'd like to be, but here's a quick rundown of a few other non-English crime writers I enjoy.
And then, if you want to go even further, dig Akashic's great international noir series, and meet really good crime writers from far-flung reaches of the globe like Barcelona, Mumbai, Haiti or Toronto.
Speaking of Toronto, Penzler made absolutely no mention of a certain crime-writing country that shares a common language with the UK and America. As my Internet friend, acclaimed Ottawa-based crime novelist Peggy Blair tweeted to me "And no mention of Canada, which has produced some pretty incredible mystery writers. Like our own award-winning Louise Penny."

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Growing Up Robin Hood

I grew up in the shadow of Robin Hood. The old 1928 Robin Hood flour mill towered over the industrial buffer between where I lived and where I went to school. Up at the top, a beacon in the foggy darkness of January mornings, the red and green Robin Hood sign was my own version of Dr. Eckleburg's eyes.
My mom held on to her childhood love of Richard Greene's TV Robin Hood. Hopefully she still does. She used to tell me about how it was one of the few places--because it was produced in Britain, I guess--where writers blacklisted in Hollywood could get work in those dark days. No doubt this contributed to a nascent image in my imagination of the Writer as Radical Hero.
--Was there a Muppet Robin Hood?--
Along with tales of TV's Robin Hood, my mom also big-upped the 1930s Errol Flynn movie. Such was the state of my childhood: TV and movies were folklore passed down in the oral tradition by elders. This is how I learned the word Swashbuckler. (My dad's preferred swashbuckler was the Scarlett Pimpernel.) Our family was friends with a family of Flynns; descended from swashbucklers, no doubt.
By the time I finally saw these live action adventures of Robin Hood, the bar had been placed impossibly high, not just by the bedtime stories my mother told, but also by repeated exposure to the high production values and rich character development of Rocket Robin Hood, seen every Saturday morning between Hercules and Spider-Man (all from the '60s) on CFQC-TV/QC8 from the time my parents finally caved and brought a (black & white) TV into our home until an geological era later when they relented and signed up for cable(our TV was colour by then), adding three American networks airing brand new cartoons to the Saturday morning mix. You have no idea the paradigm shift that led to. After years, YEARS, of the same two dozen or so episodes of Rocket Robin Hood, The Mighty Hercules and Spider-Man--along with quasi-educational interstitials like Captain Nemo of similar vintage--I could finally watch the cartoons that adorned the lunchboxes of my classmates: Thundarr the Barbarian, Blackstar, Snorkles, The Littles! Truth be told, most of these shows were awful and left little to no mark on my psyche, while here I am, waxing prosaic on the finer points of Newton the Centaur, my eyes dewy at the memory of Betty Brant's geometrically implausible coif.
Ironically, the one cartoon that did stick was even older than Rocket Robin Hood. The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Hour, piped in from Detroit on Channel 7, was the title bout of the Saturday morning fight card. After that it was Wide World of Sports or Detroit news or something else I was not interested in. After The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Hour, Saturday morning was over.
This was in contrast to the old QC8 days when the cartoon oldies block was followed by a movie of interest to a kid brain-starved by cost-conscious animation. Abbott & Costello, Pippi Longstocking, Swiss Family Robinson...the Adventures of Brian Keith in a Motorboat AKA Flipper, benign junk.
That was Saturday. Sunday had a Robin Hood of its own. That was typically the day we'd go visit my grandparents on my dad's side. Back in our pre-TV days, this was where we watched The Wonderful World of Disney and The Beachcombers (brought to you by Kraft!). At some point--after my grandparents had moved back to the city following a stint on an acreage, a stint which took pla e early enough in my life that I've always kind of considered myself part farm boy, even though I'm all city boy--when the VCR had adequately saturated Western Civ, they started playing the all-animal Disney version of Robin Hood on a constant loop at Grandpa & Grandma's. I have a lot of cousins, all of them younger than me, so there was always someone around to watch it. This is a guess, based purely on emotions, but I'd guess that movie repeated itself over and over and over from 1986 to 1991. There were pauses for Christmas specials, hockey games and Grey Cups...and I have a vague recollection of my Great-Grandfather in my grandparents living room having an opinion on the Colin Thatcher trial. But that would have to have been before the Robin Hood Era. There were also attempts at usurping Robin Hood's reign. I remember The Sword in the Stone made a valiant effort but didn't have the songs.
The songs! With Roger Miller as the troubadour rooster. Roger Miller's sublime easy listening/country soundtrack would eventually be mutilated by dancing hamsters, I shit you not.
And then there was Green Arrow.

Window Dressing

I know, I know, it's incidental. You can't judge a book based on the musical taste of its author. But I'm like, damn, how nice is it to read about detective story about a guy who can chapter-and-verse Bad Brains and Wu Tang?
Yeah, yeah, George Pelecanos name-dropped Lungfish in--which one was it? Couldn't have been King Suckerman, musta been, um, Shame The Devil?--but this is different. Dewey Decimal doesn't just happen to hear these sweet jams on the radio while casing a joint or whatever. The music matters to the plot, the character development, the book itself.

No surprise, considering the source. Nathan Larson, writer of this book I'm reading with great gusto and pleasure The Nervous System (as well as its predecessor, The Dewey Decimal System) is a stone cold musician. Used to play guitar in Shudder To Think, a band I listened to a lot in high school, currently does scores for the movies and plays in A Camp.
I've had to learn patience with the musical tastes of writers of detective stories. I threw my copy of G.M. Ford's otherwise excellent Fury across the room when the male and female leads canoodled to the tortuous strains of that horrible Santana, featuring Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20 song. I had mellowed by the time I got to my hero Paco Ignacio Taibo II's Santana obsessing in Leonardo's Bicycle. I even checked out some Santana, and though I'm still no Santana fan, I can dig it.
And, y'know, for all that I worshipped and emulated the writing style of Richard Meltzer during my rock crit salad days, I almost never liked the music he liked, or said he liked. So there's that.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Movie Time!

A list of movies I'm certain I saw in theatres up to around age 20. I'm not including movies I saw as matinees at the Broadway Theatre, because they were somehow more informal, though often better movies. Same goes for drive-ins. Same goes for the second-run theatre in downtown Saskatoon in the early 90s, the Paradise? In approximate chronological order:

The Rescuers
Fantasia
Bambi
Cinderella
Return of the Jedi (twice)
A Fine Mess
Mannequin
Moon Over Parador
Cadillac Man
Bird on a Wire
Air America
Batman
Thelma & Louise
Regarding Henry
Three Men and a Little Lady
Lionheart
Paper Mask
L.A. Story
Last of the Mohicans
Night and the City
Blade Runner
The Good Son
Dumb and Dumber
Pulp Fiction (twice--maybe three times)
Seven (or is it Se7en?)
Broken Arrow (twice)
Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud
Mission: Impossible
The Man Who Knew Too Little


Check, 1, 2...this thing on?

Ahem.
Just clearing my throat, here. Seeing if this thing still works.
They've changed the layout since I was last here, but you probably can't see that. It probably still looks like the shirt of a dude on the cover of a Louis L'Amour paperback, right? That's what I'm going for. That's what I was going for.
Honestly? Don't know what I'm going for now. We'll see.
Just figured I dust this thing off, and start up again, just to do it, just to put my hands in motion.
I've been busy. Yes, I have. If you wanna catch up, start at the top HERE and work your way back. Then, dig what I've been reading HERE. Some scattered musical mutterings HERE. I was blogging HERE for most of 2011 and did some good work, occasionally.
I've got a couple of big things on the go--and a couple of small things, too, I guess. But, um, the more I write, the more I write. So watch this space.