(Really) Big Love: "Shattered Dreams"

Our book club is preparing to discuss former polygamist wife Irene Spencer's "Shattered Dreams," and for the first time in forever, everyone has read the whole thing. I gotta give it up to my fellow club member, B., for suggesting the book. It's addictive — equal parts legitimately thought-provoking and tawdry.

I love learning about fringe cultures, and the world of polygamy certainly qualifies. Spencer, who was raised a fundamentalist Mormon, was the second of her husband's 10 wives, and she gave birth to 13 of his children before she was 35 years old. That would be wacky enough, but Spencer and her fellow sister-wives lived miserable, destitute existences in Central America, struggling to feed all their children and maintain their sanity. As a reader, I was torn between feeling great sympathy for Spencer and wondering when she was finally going to wise the &@#* up and leave her clueless husband, Verlan.

Verlan doesn't come across as a bad guy so much as dim and insensitive. It's clear that his wives' happiness is not his first priority, and though he appears to care about his kids, he can't possibly be present for all of them, let alone provide an acceptable quality of life. He's often away working in the states while his brood lives without running water, electricity, enough food or basic health care. The book is full of WTF moments, like Verlan praying before sex because he believes getting it on for reasons other than procreation — with your own spouse — is sinful. One night during a move, Irene and a dozen of her children have to crowd into the cab of a broken-down truck during a thunderstorm. When she begs for permission to have (finally) her tubes tied, Verlan spins some nonsense about how doing so would prevent or "trap" unborn souls from entering the kingdom.

The book's title really ought to be "Why Fundamentalism is Ridiculous." Whenever Irene questions the rules, she is simply chastised for putting her soul in jeopardy or not having enough faith to adhere to God's teachings. Never mind that polygamy is a bum rap for women or that having multiple children you can't afford to support is irresponsible at best. This sect is told constantly that if people fail at polygamy, they are the problem.

I'm really looking forward to the discussion next week, and reading "Shattered Dreams" makes me want to learn more about the history of polygamy in America and where it stands today. Oh, and I've gotta rent "Big Love" now.

Sedaris Rocks

At the risk of gushing, I have to say that David Sedaris really is one of the funniest men on the planet. He's also incredibly charming, pocket-sized and quirky, and he seems to genuinely enjoy interacting with his readers. While signing my copy of "Always Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim," we chatted about Valdosta (my hometown) and the sad quality of outlet malls. He gave the young lady in front of my one of his travel-sized bottles of hand lotion.

I can't believe I missed this, but a friend who was with him in the elevator said that after some heavily primped, busty sorority girls exited, Sedaris quipped: "Are they prostitutes?"

As far as his reading went, the guy killed. One of the more memorable moments was Sedaris' description of American air travelers who don't seem to give a damn: "It's as if someone had been scrubbing shoe polish off a pig, then said, 'Fuck this. I'm going to Los Angeles.' " He discussed a news story about owls that had been trained to fly across the room at weddings, land on the groom's gloved arm and deliver the rings: "For the first time, I wanted to get married for all the right reasons." I'm still giggling at his rebuke of his partner, Hugh, for referring to some food-poaching pigeons as "assholes."

Unlike Junot Diaz, Sedaris seemed happy to be at FSU and answered a LOT of questions. Afterward, he signed more books and encouraged the audience to stick around and ask some more questions. "I've heard people say, 'I was afraid to ask you a question because I thought you might be mean to me.' Why would I be mean to you? I mean, I could see if Dick Cheney was doing a book reading."

Well, That Was Quick

To say that Junot Diaz's talk Monday night was short would be an understatement. It may have taken me longer to park, find the restroom and scope out a decent seat than it took him to make his 7 Days of Opening Nights appearance. Even more strange was the fact that he took only three questions — two of them from a woman who wanted to know about his appearance on "The Colbert Report." Diaz seemed fairly down to earth from where I was sitting, but ... I dunno, it just seemed like something was going on behind the scenes that the audience wasn't privy to. Writers. What are you gonna do?

Anyway, Diaz did have some very interesting things to say about writing, most notably the idea that the reader should approach reading with some level of humility. In other words, it's OK if you don't understand everything immediately or have to ask someone else for help. He made this point after Colbert Woman asked him if the use of Spanish words in "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" might be a stumbling block for some readers.

"This is a book written by somebody who never forgot how they learned to read. There's always something that you don't know. There's always something that you don't understand. It's honoring the deep structure of reading," Diaz said. "As adults ... we've forgotten how reading works. The reading is not about you knowing every goddamn word."

He also talked about the book's relentless footnotes as a literary device. He likened their constant interruption to a kid who starts jabbering the minute their mom or dad makes a phone call. Diaz said that literature can function as a sort of dictatorship when only one person is allowed to speak.

"The person in the footnotes was trying to fuck the whole thing up," he said. "I wasn't trying to blend it. I wanted the two narratives to fight."

He ended the talk with a brief reading, and that was it. Band, horns down. A long line promptly formed for a book signing, but it seemed like the best thing to do was call it a night and continue enjoying the book on my own. On to David Sedaris in April.

Diaz Speaks Tonight

OK, it looks like I won't finish "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" in time for author Junot Diaz's 7 Days of Opening Nights appearance. But based solely on his salty, rambling, funny interviews (which he did not grant the Democrat for some reason) I'm looking forward to hearing him talk tonight. I'm not even 100 pages in, and I'm already convinced that Diaz is some kind of genius. (Duh. The book won a Pulitzer.) A few choice lines:

"You really want to know what being an X-Man feels like? Just be a smart bookish boy of color in a contemporary U.S. ghetto. Mamma Mia! Like having bat wings or a pair of tentacles growing out of your chest."

"Sucks to be left out of adolescence, sort of like getting locked in the closet on Venus when the sun appears for the first time in a hundred years."

"For Oscar, high school was the equivalent of a medieval spectacle, like being put in the stocks and forced to endure the peltings and outrages of a mob of deranged half-wits, an experience from which he supposed he should have emerged a better person, but that's not really what happened."

For the first time since I moved to Tallahassee, I am genuinely excited about the 7 Days of Opening Nights lineup — especially David Sedaris on April 16. I mean, I couldn't pretend I was interested in seeing Art Garfunkel last year or Kris Kristofferson the year before that. It seems like there's a little something for everybody this time, not just the boomers.

Anyway, I'll take notes tonight and try to cobble together a coherent report.

Good Read: 'Revolutionary Road'

I just read "Revolutionary Road," (1961) which is as beautifully written as it is draining. In other words, very. Richard Yates' novel about a young married couple in the 1950s is difficult stuff, and anyone who has been married for a few years will find some of his themes uncomfortably close to home. Even if your marriage is good, it probably requires far more compromise and work than you imagined - especially if you have children. There's a reason that this book holds up almost 50 years later.

April and Frank Wheeler are not sympathetic characters, and yet, I felt great compassion for both of them at certain times. Trapped by circumstances and limited (by 2008 standards) options, they're both struggling with the disconnect between the life they imagined and the one they actually have. Suffice to say that they do not handle the creeping despair well. Grasping at a vague idea of manhood, Frank indulges in alcohol and young women in the office typing pool. April is either emotionally distant or radioactive with contempt. The ending? Crushing. When I finished the book on the way back from Atlanta, the look on my face prompted my husband to say, "That bad?"

The above may not sound like a ringing endorsement, but "Revolutionary Road" is a lyrical masterpiece - that rare book that I want to re-read. As soon as I recover.

Another Lennon Biography

I’ve only read two books about the Beatles, but it seems like that number should be much, much higher. Maybe that’s because I’ve soaked up so much information about them over the last 20 years and spent countless hours enjoying their music. My friend C. and I saw the Cirque du Soleil “Love” production in Las Vegas last year, and it was phenomenal. I’d go see it again in a heartbeat, and I loathe Vegas.

So I feel like I should run out and buy the new John Lennon biography by Philip Norman, especially since I have a 40-percent off coupon. It’s getting good reviews, and at 851(!) pages, the book obviously has a lot to say about the late musician. I just have a hard time believing Norman has anything new or revelatory to add to such a well-known story. Then again, that didn’t stop me from reading Bob Spitz’s equally gigantic (and quite good) Beatles biography.

Norman managed to get in-depth interviews with Yoko Ono (who later withdrew her support), Sean Lennon and Paul McCartney, so that gives the book a good measure of credibility. Reviews suggest that the author found the right balance between hagiography and demonization, which is another plus. Everything I’ve read about Lennon suggests that he was a complicated, often deeply unpleasant man who happened to be a gifted artist.

Still — 851 pages?

I’ll probably wind up buying it, if for no other reason that it’s a fascinating story with so many interesting players. The ending, however, is a real shame.

Bad Sex ... In Fiction

When I was in junior high, my best friend and I used to scope out racy romance novels at discount stores and read the introductory passages aloud. At 12 or 13, we didn't have a clue about sex, but we knew overwrought writing when we saw it. I only wish I could remember some of the howlers we unearthed back in the day.

Many a fiction writer/writing coach has talked about the difficulty of writing about sex well. Much like the act itself, it can be a risky enterprise — and there are so many ways it can go wrong. When I encounter a cringe-worthy passage in an otherwise decent book, I tend to skip past it because I'm so embarrassed for the writer, the characters, and myself.

We have the U.K.-based Literary Review to thank for shedding light on this important topic with its annual Bad Sex in Fiction award. According to the Guardian, the award is designed "to draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it."

These passages were among the 2007 nominees, and they range from "Ew" to "WTF?" My favorite line: "But inter-species sex is illegal."

By the way, the late Norman Mailer won.

Crimes of Literature: 'Flowers in the Attic'

Our book club is reading "Twilight," the first book in Stephanie Meyers' series of the same name, and it's not bad. My friend and fellow member S. teaches middle school English, and she wanted to see what all her students were raving about. What I've read so far suggests that Meyers has a keen awareness of what high school and adolescence is really like. In any case, it's nice to know that a decent book aimed at young readers is doing well. It's much better than a certain series that was popular when I was an impressionable teenager.

When I was 14, every girl I knew was obsessed with V.C. Andrews' "Flowers in the Attic" series. I was always reading something, so my mom never asked me what that particular set of books was about, thank God. I was thus spared the humiliation of explaining that "Flowers in the Attic" was essentially a love story — about a brother and a sister. "Their evil grandma locked them and their siblings in an attic. So they went through puberty up there, right? And even though they knew it was wrong, they were really in love!"

I've leafed through the books once or twice as an adult, and frankly, they're indefensible. Aside from their absurd plot twists (Wait, Catherine was stuck in an attic for a few years but somehow kept up her dance training to become a prima ballerina?), the writing is horrible. Eyes are not merely blue, but "cornflower blue." The only black people are kindly mammy/butler types. There seems to be a lot of sex, but only the kind that would fascinate someone who hadn't had any. I also noticed that the characters say "for" instead of "because," which comes up surprisngly often. As in: "I cannot forget you, Catherine, for you have captured my heart."

Seriously, what was I on? Because it's not like I stopped with "Flowers in the Attic." There was "Petals on the Wind," followed by "If There Be Thorns," "Seeds of Yesterday" and "Garden of Shadows." I read a few other V.C. Andrews books before I figured out that all of them had an icky edge of incest and were marinated in cliches. Like any respectable teenaged girl, I was a sucker for yarns about forbidden love. But I soon discovered others that actually had some literary merit ("The Thornbirds," "The Far Pavillions," etc.).

I know a few moms with teen girls, and whenever I tell them about "Flowers in the Attic," they're a) clueless and b) totally freaked out. Maybe they shouldn't be. Kids of a certain age are always going to find access to tasteless crap, but if you've done your job as a parent, they'll (probably) process it appropriately.

But if they start saying "for" instead of "because," you've been warned.