Nickel and Dimed

Barbara Ehrenreich is such a great journalist, I'd read her on anything, even if I wasn't particularly interested in the subject. But in Nickel and Dimed - On (Not) Getting By in America - her subject is the struggle on the fringes of affluent Western culture, and those who struggle it. Having struggled on a few fringes myself (oh to be an Artist in this benighted place) I was moved by those among whom Ehrenreich lived & worked while researching this book. Acknowledging her priveleged middle class background, and knowing she couldn't really 'experience' poverty, nonetheless she steps away from her safety nets & tries to make do on her minimum wage jobs - finding accommodation, health care, food, petrol. Finding support and unexpected kindness. But also finding deeply ingrained desperation, no hope that anything will improve, and an unfightable undertow in the struggle of the working poor.

Many of my fellow Australians would recognise this clawed existence (although we do have universal free health care here). I earlier spoke of my "struggle". But I come from the robust lower middle class, had good health care as a child, which set me up physically, lived in a house with two parents until I was 17, speak this language English well, and have always been encouraged to strive for goals beyond the daily need for food and shelter. Reading of the people in Ehrenreich's stories gave me pause, and made me angry. And made me vow never to again to say "Oh I'm so broke".

What Makes Sammy Run?

Budd Schulberg, who would go on to write the novel Waterfront & the screenplay from it On The Waterfront, shocked Hollywood in 1941 with this novel. It concerns the rise and rise of unscrupulous, out-for-himself Sammy Glick as he makes his way from copy-boy at a New York newspaper, clambering over bodies, to become a big-shot Hollywood producer. The pithy prose & vivid characters, along with a rolicking plot, make this novel a "read it all on one go" book.

The New York Times named it "best first-novel of the year". Schulberg's father, the legendary producer B.P. Schulberg, told him "You'll never work in this town again. How will you live?". He was fired by a purple-with-rage Sam Goldwyn, Hedda Hopper accosted him to harrumph "How dare you", and Louis Mayer wanted to "deport" him. He was attacked simultaneously by the Communist Party and John Wayne. In fact, even in the mid-sixties, Wayne tried to strangle Schulberg at a party, then challenged him to a duel.

Of great interest, though sobering, is Schulberg's Afterword, written in 1989. He laments "The book I had written as an attack on antisocial behavior has become a how-to book on Looking Out for Number 1."

Lean Mean Thirteen

Stephanie Plum rampages through another reckless romp. Threatened by flame-throwers, menaced by thugs, attacked by exploding beavers, it's just another day in the Burg for our intrepid bail enforcer. Surrounded, supported and thwarted by her motley crew - handsome cop Morelli, lithe dangerman Ranger, spandex decked ex 'ho Lula, hideous Joyce Barnhardt, gun-toting Grandma Mazur, and fed my her long suffering mother - Stephanie finds herself prime suspect in the murder of her ex-husband (and Joyce-plougher) Dickie Orr. She must solve the crime, collar bond skippers, eat pizza, lasagne, cake and macaroni cheese, all while juggling the manly lusts of Morelli & Ranger, and facing her fears in a midnight cemetary. Oh, and she wrecks another car.

Lovers of Janet Evanovich's cool & messy broad will be thouroughly satisfied. And if you haven't met Stephanie yet - go and do it right now.

Blindsight

Maurice Gee is one of new Zealand's best writers of fiction. In Blindsight he achingly unravels the entwined family relationships of the Ferrys, in particular the brother and sister, as narrated by the now old Alice. An unknown young man arrives on her doorstep and his soft insistence breaks open her carapace, and reveals the darkness at the heart of her family. "Father taught us how not to love" is the first line of this novel, and by the time it is repeated as the ending I felt wrenched by this story, yet strangely calm. Gee's prose is incisive and unsentimental - as is his protagonist. He has the ability to involve the reader with his characters, who scarcely seem to be characters but living beings with all their faults and regrets, yet all their painful ability to - yes - love.

Lost For Words

We need a bit of joy today, wouldn't you say? The marvelous Hugh Lunn gives us these words to live by.

Whack oh the diddley-oh! (my late father John used this expression & the alternate Whack oh the duck!)

When things were going along swimmingly, everything is tickety-boo or everything's hunky-dory.

He's happy as a sand boy, she's over the moon, I'm pleased as Punch (that well known wife- crocodile- & cop-beater)

When a man was tickled pink at the sight of a woman, he would report to his mates "My word she was beaut" or "By crickey she was a looker" or "My word she was good-oh."

So my feiends, I wish for you a day that is crackerjack, a real doozey, and that soon we're all be living the life of Riley.

Noise, The Proposition, Look Both Ways

For some reason this week I haven't been reading my books at all. Lots of newspapers & magazines (I am a magazine fiend) and of course the interwebs.

I have also been watching a lot of Australian films on DVD. I try to see them in the cinema, but a few have gotten past me for various reasons, so I'm having a fest at home.

See these:

Noise, written and directed by Matt Saville. This has just been released, and I saw it at the cinema. It is a wonderful brooding meditation, compelling, wrenching, ambiguous as our lives are.

The Propostion, written by Nick Cave (yes, that Nick Cave) and directed by John Hillcoat. I was reluctant to see this film for a long time because I knew it was extrememly violent. But the evocation of Australia & Australianess elevated this "Western" to a more thoughtful realm. Though set Back Then, the film talks of the Australian character today, and our uneasy relationship to the land we inhabit.

Look Both Ways, written and directed by Sarah Watt. This is a quiet and compelling film, treating grief, inarticulacy, and the strange ways of strange loves. Beautiful.

The Restraint of Beasts

If you're after bone-dry wit, writing of surpassing economy, and all you need to know about burying bodies standing up in post holes, this is the book for you. Set in the cut-throat world of professional fencing, and featuring Magnus Mills' trademark odd shaggy specimens of Modern Man as characters, this book is a chilling joy, a creepy treat, an hilarious tragedy.

Then read All Quiet On The Orient Express. You won't be sorry.