And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks - Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs

And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks is the great lost book based upon the event that provided the stimulus to launch the careers of the most influential American writers of the latter half of the 20th century, the Beats. Anyone who is a fan of the Beats and is aware of the Paris Review interview features on their website may have noticed that this book is mentioned in both Burroughs's and Kerouac's interview with that esteemed publication. At first it seems like a novelty to me--a collaboration between WSB and JK--it might be interesting but it couldn't be anywhere near as great as the books they were famous for. My sister gave it to me for Christmas, and I was excited to read it, but I was more eager to read The Magic Mountain (since I knew it would take a while). After I began it, I almost didn't want to read it because I was enjoying it so much and wanted to savor every single one of its 200 pages.

It is a fast-paced read and it is quite different from any books by either author. They alternate (pretty much) from chapter to chapter, with two different narrators--Will Dennison (for Burroughs) and Mike Ryko (for Kerouac). They do keep with their habit of barely fictionalizing their work. But this was written in 1944 or 1945, when Kerouac was only 23 and Burroughs was just 30. The two of them would not become famous for twelve or more years. Their styles are not quite exactly what they would become--but they are not that far off. Kerouac's style is not as "poetic" as it would later be, and is more imitative of Burroughs dry, stark, noir-style diction, which is not far off from Queer or Junky. Forced to pick between the two writers in this text, I would lean in the direction of Burroughs. His chapters seem slightly more precise--but that is not a dig at Kerouac. On the whole, this is a truly excellent novel that demands to be read along with all of the other classic Beat Generation books like Naked Lunch, Queer, On the Road, The Dharma Bums, Desolation Angels, and Howl.

The story is a thinly-veiled account of the story about Lucien Carr and David Kammerer, who are named Phillip Tourian and Ramsey Allen (called Al throughout the book). Tourian is 17 and Al is 40 or so and smitten with him. This is not really that far off from Queer. There are not as many prevalent drug themes, and the setting is New York City, mostly around Greenwich Village. Tourian is about to join the Merchant Marines with Mike Ryko, but certain things seem to keep getting in their way of shipping out. Meanwhile, Al hangs out with Will Dennison, Mike Ryko, Phil, a few girls named Barbara (Phil's girlfriend), Janie (Mike's girlfriend), and Agnes. Their parties are very much in the same vein as those frequently described by Kerouac in his books. Eventually, something very serious happens--more serious than anything in any of the other books. The proximity that Kerouac and Burroughs had to this event makes for a truly shocking tale, and it is not hard to understand why they wrote about this scenario so often.

The afterword by James Grauerholz is an excellent piece of literary biography. That will explain everything about this book that you need to know, but you should read the book first. Just trust me--it's a significant work of art that hasn't seen the light of day due to very serious issues of privacy and public image. More shocking and to the point--Grauerholz wrote the afterword in June of 2008--only 8 months ago! I had just finished my post on Desolation Angels on this very blog and was about to dip into Buddenbrooks! So, along with Snuff and How Fiction Works and Dead Boys, ATHWBITT is one of my most "immediate" reviews on this blog, purely by chance.

I don't want to find any quotations to give a sense of the style. Most of this book is dialogue and eschews long-winded description or poetic diversions. You just have to trust me, this book is a fantastic document. If anything, it just goes to show how work that is rejected for publication can hold great, truly significant, value. I feel like this book was rejected more for its at times hardcore language (though it has nothing on Naked Lunch, for sure!) than its lack of literary merit. Just another reason to hate the publishing industry for going after stuff that "works" and "sells" when there are much more important books being written that don't "deserve" to see the light of day because the public at large (generally held to be, ahem, a bit closed-minded about certain matters) will not provide a profitable enough audience. Excuse me while I go puke with that thought in my mind.

Bands I Would See if I were going to Coachella this year

In my post about the Merge Records stuff, I briefly mentioned that I would not be able to attend Coachella this year, much to my dismay as the lineup was rumored to be quite good, and as it landed rather serendipitously over my birthday weekend. Disneyworld it is, for better or worse, and all along my last day there, I will be thinking about how I could be having much more age-appropriate fun for a significantly better value than expensive theme parks, expensive hotels, expensive dining--but then again I am not paying for this trip, so I shouldn't complain. If I were still in California, I would be in the desert this weekend without question, and I nearly want to kill myself for the impossibility of making the trip from the midwest. The only thing that keeps me from tearing my hair out is the promise of another Pitchfork festival, which will hopefully continue to provide excellent lineups--I don't see why it would not. Still, you cannot beat the Woodstock-y atmosphere of everyone needing to camp in the same location, somewhere in the middle between L.A. and Las Vegas.

These are all the sets I would try to see if I were going:

Paul McCartney (just because)
Morrissey (undoubtedly)
Franz Ferdinand (because I've never seen them live and like them okay)
Leonard Cohen (because he is legendary)
Girl Talk (if there was nothing else on and if I wanted to try to pick someone up)
Silversun Pickups (just because I lived right by the plaza they named their band after)
Crystal Castles (because I am listening to them right now and they are cool)
M. Ward (if there was nothing better on)
The Hold Steady (because they're an awesome band, particularly live)
A Place to Bury Strangers (because I've wanted to see them a little bit)
---nobody else the first day---
TV on the Radio (would be very nice to see in that atmosphere)
Fleet Foxes (just to see what all the fuss is about)
Amy Winehouse (ditto--more interesting than the Killers at least IMO)
Henry Rollins (yes! now get offered gobs of money for a Black Flag reunion next year!)
Hercules and the Love Affair (are supposed to be good)
Superchunk (because they might be my favorite band-one of the highlights of the lineup)
Liars (awesome!)
Bob Mould Band (because it's the next best thing to Husker Du)
---nobody else on the second day---
My Bloody Valentine (one of the best live experiences of my life--too bad they're almost last)
The Cure (I've always wanted to see them, they rule)
Yeah Yeah Yeahs (debuting new material--are always fun)
Paul Weller (because I really like the Jam)
X (another huge highlight--been dying to see them for years)
Fucked Up (are really sweet--I predict they will play P4K though)
No Age (not the most exciting band live, but still wonderful)
Throbbing Gristle (just because)

OK, so 26 bands I really want to see for the hefty price tag of $269+fees. If I weren't going to Disneyworld, I would drop the cash (that I really don't have) on this. To me, it would be worth it. Coachella in 2004 was a wonderful experience--even if I did it totally the wrong way--and because of that I would love to go back and do it the right way now that I know what it's like. For anybody who hasn't been--you should go! And if you need any advice on how to prepare, drop me a line and I will give you a few tips.

The Magic Mountain - Thomas Mann

How to begin. I had stated in my review of Buddenbrooks that I wanted to go out and buy The Magic Mountain from a local bookstore in L.A. last June, or July, whenever it was, immediately after finishing that masterpiece. An interesting review might compare these two novels--these two works, along with "Death in Venice," that are most responsible for Mann's Nobel Prize in Literature. It is clearly stated in several instances to be awarded specifically for the feat of Buddenbrooks, but students of great literature will recognize that these three works comprise the bulk of this great author's contribution to the canon of Great Books. That is not to say that I will not be reading The Confessions of Felix Krull sometime soon, nor many other shorter works, but I do seriously question whether I will ever have the courage to attempt Joseph and His Brothers.

Which is better--Buddenbrooks or Magic Mountain? Oh, that is hard. As for a "typical" novel, Buddenbrooks is more easily enjoyed. It certainly is no typical novel, but it presents the typical elements of literature in a more digestible form. It is slightly more "safe" than this novel, but there are more heartbreaking elements that might cause one to weep amidst reading. There are many death scenes as well, and most of them quite memorable. Not as many death scenes in Magic Mountain--three major ones. Enough with the comparison.

Published in 1924, The Magic Mountain concerns one Hans Castorp, 24, but soon to be confused about his actual age, even shortly after his arrival at the eponymous locale, a.k.a. Sanatorium Berghof, presided over by the melancholic, amateur painter of oils, Director Behrens, and his assistant given to "psychic dissection," Dr. Krokowski. Hans travels to the town of Davos-Dorf by train in order to visit his cousin, Joachim Ziemssen, a soldier recently afflicted with tuberculosis, dutifully following the rules of the house in order to recover as quickly as possible. But that is more difficult than it seems. Indeed, the doctors in charge of the sanatorium are quite possessive of their patients, and often extend their length-of-stay for three months or six months at a time, into what soon seems an endless illness. Hans Castorp feels left out the first few times the doctors and nurses visit all of the other patients in their rooms and pass his over, and soon he is examined by Director Behrens and diagnosed as anemic, and as having a "moist spot" on his lung. Originally intending to visit Joachim for three weeks, he is soon told that he should stay confined to his bed for the next three weeks, and should stay for at least another three months.

But he soon realizes that life is not so bad at the Berghof. There are five exquisitely prepared meals a day, and a splendid lounge chair on the balcony off his room, where he observes the house rules of the "rest cure," which is instrumental in clearing the body of toxins through the immaculate purity of the alpine air. He soon meets an Italian literary scholar, Lodovico Settembrini, who never changes his clothes and always talks about how he is a humanist, and who initially annoys Castorp, seeing him as an "organ grinder" in a dream, but who eventually grows on him and becomes his mentor and one of his best friends. A variety of other fellow patients are introduced. There is Frau Stohr, a table mate of Castorp, who is constantly mixing up words and is regarded as one of the lesser intellects (to put it kindly) at the sanatorium--also probably the source of the greatest humor in the novel. There is Herr Albin, who receives his own "mini-chapter" but who never figures prominently in the novel, despite longevity. Castorp first becomes aware of him when he is causing a ruckus, playing show-and-tell with his revolver on the common lounging area, which Castorp can hear from his balcony during rest cure:

"'But why? Why do you have it, then?' several trembling voices asked with foreboding. 'How horrible!' one voice suddenly cried--and Herr Albin nodded.
'I see you're beginning to understand,' he said. 'And in fact, that is why I keep it handy,' he went on lightly, after first inhaling and then exhaling a great quantity of smoke, despite his recent bout with pneumonia. 'I keep it at the ready for the day when all this malarkey here gets too boring and I shall have the honor of paying my final regards. It really is very simple. I've studied the matter at some length, and I have a very clear idea about how to pull it off.' (Another shriek in response to the words 'pull it off.') 'The region of the heart is out of the question--it's rather awkward to aim there. And besides, I prefer snuffing out the conscious mind on the spot, and can do so by applying one of these pretty little foreign objects to this interesting organ...' And Herr Albin pointed with his index finger to his close-cropped blond head. 'One aims here'--Herr Albin pulled the nickel-plated revolver from his pocket again and tapped the barrel against one temple--'here, just above the artery. Slick as a whistle, even without a mirror.' (93)

There are several others as well, but none more mysterious and disquieting than Frau Clavdia Chauchat, a Russian that slams the door every time she arrives for a meal. Hans is initially put off by her unrefined manners, but eventually cannot stop looking at her, until they carry on a very subtle relationship strictly governed by eye contact at meals, and perfunctory greetings in the hallway. The manner in which his obsession grows, and finally reaches its manifestation in language, after a coincidental appointment in the house X-ray room and the lightened spirit of a Mardi Gras party, is truly an exercise in anticipatory tension--a very tactful method that all those amateur writers unacquainted with Mann would be well-served to observe--economy being the unsettling virtue of contemporary literature that it is, giving sway to unrealistic situations of slapdash romance. Perhaps more intriguing is the germ of Castorp's longing for Clavdia, unveiled in the "Hippe" mini-chapter, whence it has already been mentioned that Hans dreamt of a day in the schoolyard and a person he saw there that reminded him of Clavdia on some indefinite level, and where Hans derives the connection in his mind of his former schoolmate, Pribislav Hippe, whom he knew when he was 13 and once quite meaningfully asked to borrow a pencil from. His attraction to Pribislav is rendered almost unthinkably, but is not far off from the opening segment of Mann's other great short story, "Tonio Kroger":

"The thing was that Hans Castorp had his eye on young Pribislav for a long time, had chosen him from among all the boys in the bustling schoolyard, those he knew and those he didn't know, had been interested in him, had followed him with his glances--should one say, admired him?--in any case, observed him with ever-growing sympathy. Even when walking to and from school, he looked forward to to spotting him among the other boys, to watching him talk and laugh, to picking out his voice from a good distance--that husky, opaque, slightly gruff voice. Granted, there was no sufficient reason for this sympathy--particularly if one disregarded such things as his heathen name, his status as a model pupil (which, indeed, could have played no role whatsoever), or those Kirghiz eyes, which from time to time, in certain sidelong glances, when gazing at nothing in particular, could darken, almost melt, to a veiled dusky look--but whatever the reason, Hans Castorp did not worry about the intellectual or emotional basis of his reaction, or even what name he would give it if he had to. It could not be called friendship, because he didn't really "know" Hippe. But from the start, there was not the least reason to give it a name; the furthest thing from his mind was ever to talk about the matter--that would have been most unlike him and he felt no need to do so. Besides, to give it a name would have meant, if not to judge it, at least to define it, to classify it as one of life's familiar, commonplace items, whereas Hans Castorp was thoroughly convinced at some subconscious level that anything so personal should always be shielded from definition and classification." (142)

When later Clavdia is asked for a pencil in order to attempt the drawing of a pig with his eyes closed, one is almost caught off guard by the fact that the same gesture is made to these two separate entities which become so tied in Castorp's mind that he even later tells Clavdia that he knew her before. Regardless, they do not have their hotly-anticipated tete-a-tete until page 400, and with Clavdia leaving the next day, only to return a couple years later with a traveling companion, Mynheer Peeperkorn. One would expect this personality to take up the role of villain, but Mann recognizes this trope, even spells out that expectation in the text, and instead reveals him to be a "brother" to Castorp.

So this novel is mainly about two things: Castorp's pursuit of Chauchat and his education under the tutelage of Settembrini, and later, Herr Naptha. Much is made of these two characters in all scholarly studies of this work, and indeed if one were to write a paper on this book, several of their exchanges would be prime fodder for interpretation. At its most surreal level, this novel is an allegory of the European situation in the seven years leading up to World War I. To take it even a step further, one could almost sense the growing totalitarian urge of Germany, even though it was published nine years before Hitler would ascend to chancellor of the country. In one of his philosophical duets with Settembrini, Naptha hits upon a few unsettling phrases:

"Whereupon 'youth in search of light' was forced to watch as Naphta took each argument, one after the other, and wrung its neck. He ridiculed the philanthropist's reluctance to shed blood, his reverence for life, claimed that such a reverence for life belonged to only the most banal rubbers-and-umbrellas bourgeois periods, but that the moment history took a more passionate turn, the moment a single idea, something that transcended mere 'security,' was at work, something suprapersonal, something greater than the individual--and since that alone was a state worthy of mankind, it was, on a higher plane, the normal state of affairs--at that moment, then, individual life would always be sacrificed without further ado to that higher idea, and not only that, but individuals would also unhesitatingly and gladly risk their own lives for it. His good adversary's philanthropy, he said, was aimed at robbing life of all its difficult and deadly serious aspects; its goal was the castration of life, and the same went for the determinism of its so-called science. The truth was, however, that determinism could never abolish the concept of guilt--indeed it could only add to its terrible gravity." (546)

In the introduction to the text A.S. Byatt states, "Naphta, Jew, Jesuit, connoisseur of the irrational, the anarchic, the nihilistic, is closer to Mann's own vision, which itself is closer to Nietzsche's strong pessimism than to the hopefulness of the Age of Reason," (xii) and so I expected Naphta to lend greater excitement to the pedagogic sections with Settembrini, but truth be told, these were not the most compelling portions of the work to me. Whether by the prospect of my own intellectual limitations, or those of our age, the majority of the words spoken by these two characters flew clear over my head. Only Settembrini's intended contribution to an encyclopedia where he has been commissioned to summarize all of the examples of human suffering portrayed in the history of literature captured my attention, but that is more of a tangent than a central storyline. The final scene with Naphta and Settembrini is certainly compelling, however, one of the best scenes in the novel, but I do not want to spoil it. Instead, there was one particular notion spoken by Naphta that did provide me with great catharsis, following a mention of Rousseau's notion of man in his primal state:

"'--we, for our part,' Naptha continued, 'are perhaps no less revolutionary than you, but we have always deduced, first and foremost, the supremacy of the Church over the secular state. For even if the state's ungodliness were not branded on its brow, one need only note a simple historical fact--that its origins can be traced to the will of the people and not, like those of the Church, to divine decree--and thereby prove that the state is, if not exactly a manifestation of evil, then at least a manifestation of dire necessity and sinful shortcomings.'

'The state, my dear sir--'

'I know what you think of the nation-state. 'Above all else, a love of the fatherland and a boundless hunger for glory.' That is Virgil. You amend him with a little liberal individualism, and call it democracy; but your fundamental relationship to the state remains completely untouched. You are apparently not disturbed by the fact that money is its soul. Or would you contest that? Antiquity was capitalist because it idolized the state. The Christian Middle Ages clearly saw that the secular state was inherently capitalist. 'Money will become our emperor'--that is a prophecy from the eleventh century. Do you deny that it has literally come true, making life itself a veritable hell?'" (475-476)

Indeed I am hard-pressed to consider any other work of literature that may hold more manifold philosophical inquiries than this one. Perhaps The Republic may be a more intimidating work on the whole. I am sure that works of pure philosophy by Hegel or Nietzsche or Heidegger or Schopenhauer are far more difficult to read than this text. As far as novels go, with a regular plot and storyline, comic and tragic elements, "beautiful characters" and "beautiful words" as Settembrini and brewer-patient Herr Magnus mock, conflict and resolution, rising action, falling action, etc., this work may contain more pure genius than any other single item in that category. How does one classify it--the dust jacket says something about Hans Castorp spending seven years at a sanatorium where he "succumbs to the lure of eros and the intoxication of ideas." What is the conflict? How to get out? He does not want to get out--until a rather abrupt thunderbolt strikes, so to speak. What is the rising action? Arriving, the first several pages of the book? Or rather, the painstakingly slow seduction of Frau Chauchat? I would love to read a query letter that Thomas Mann might compose for this book.

There are still greater pleasures yet to be discussed. The mini-chapter "Snow" (the book is separated in 7 larger chapters and perhaps two dozen mini-chapters) is a remarkable account of nearly freezing to death after an exploration of the alpine region on skis, complete with one of the more superlative dream sequences ever captured in literature. The trilogy of Mynheer Peeperkorn mini-chapters, not counting the "Vingt et Un" mini-chapter which recounts a raucous evening party, fit the tone near the end of the novel almost perfectly. Peeperkorn can barely speak. He speaks, he is a "personality" of great import, but he never seems to say anything, his words have no meaning. And yet what opportunities there are to talk about drugs:

"Hans Castorp smoked. Frau Chauchat likewise indulged in filter-tipped cigarettes that she took from a Russian enameled box decorated with a speeding troika, which she had laid within easy reach on the table; nor did Peeperkorn scold his neighbor for yielding to the pleasure, though he did not smoke himself, never had. If they understood him correctly, the consumption of tobacco was, in his opinion, one of those over-refined pleasures, the cultivation of which meant robbing the simpler gifts of life of their majesty--gifts and claims to which our emotional vigor scarcely did justice as it was. 'Young man,' he said to Hans Castorp, fixing him with his pale gaze and subduing him with a cultured gesture, 'young man--whatever is simple! Whatever is holy! Fine, you understand me. A bottle of wine, a steaming dish of eggs, pure grain spirits--let us first measure up to and enjoy such things before we--absolutely, my dear sir. Settled. I have known people, men and women, cocaine-sniffers, hashish-smokers, morphine addicts. Fine, my dear friend. Agreed. Let them. We should not reprove or judge. And yet for what should come first, for what is simple, grand, direct from the hand of God, for such things these people were all--settled, my friend. Condemned. Cast out. They failed to give such things their due. Whatever your name may be, young man--fine, I knew it, but have since forgotten--depravity lies not in cocaine, not in opium, not in vice as such. The unforgivable sin lies in--" (670)

Aside from Peeperkorn's jumbled thoughts on intoxicating pleasures, early on there is a mention of Hans Castorp's own feelings on smoking, which should be used in some magazine advertisement nowadays:

"'I don't understand,' Hans Castorp said. 'I don't understand how someone can not be a smoker--why it's like robbing oneself of the best part of life, so to speak, or at least of an absolutely first-rate pleasure. When I wake up I look forward to being able to smoke all day, and when I eat, I look forward to it again, in fact I can honestly say that I actually only eat so that I can smoke, although that's an exaggeration, of course. But a day without tobacco--that would be absolutely insipid, a dull, totally wasted day. And if some morning I had to tell myself: there's nothing left to smoke today, why I don't think I'd find courage to get up, I swear I'd stay in bed. You see, if a man has a cigar that burns well--and obviously it can't have any breaks or draw badly, that's really terribly annoying--what I'm saying is, that if a man has a good cigar, then he's home safe, nothing, literally nothing, can happen to him. It's the same as when you're lying on the beach, because there you lie on the beach, you know? and you don't need anything else--no work, no other amusements. Thank God, people smoke all over the world, there's nowhere you could possibly end up, as far as I know, where tobacco's unknown. Even polar explorers lay in a good supply of smokes to get them over their hardships--that's always struck a sympathetic chord in me whenever I've read about it. Because things can go very badly--let's assume, for instance, that things would go miserably for me--but as long as I had my cigar, I'd carry on, that much I know, it could bring me through anything.'

'All the same, it's a sign of a rather weak will,' Joachim said, 'to be so dependent on tobacco...'"(55-56)

Though this is quite a serious book taken as a whole, when each scene is scrutinized down to its most basic elements, it is quite comic and absurd. Take for instance, one of the final mini-chapters, "Highly Questionable," which features Ellen Brand, a new patient with supernatural powers, who is called upon to contact ghosts in two different scenes. By the time that you have made it this far into the book, you may be compelled to believe anything that is written in it, and a scene which demands such unreasonable suspension of disbelief is temporarily rendered profound. That is ultimately the effect of reading The Magic Mountain--the reader becomes "one of us up here" and distances themselves from the real world, forgetting their former prejudices and adopting a tableau of renewed convictions. Sprinkled throughout, there are little utterances which cannot fail to capture one's sympathies. One particularly broken character, Herr Wehsal, who shares Castorp's obsession with Chauchat in an even more pathetic condition, reminded this reader too much of himself and inspired a moment of self-reflection:

"'Did you see,' he asked, 'how she was making fun of you, because you had to ride alone with me? Yes, yes, that's her way of adding insult to injury. Does it annoy and disgust you all that much to have to sit beside me?'

'Pull yourself together, Wehsal, and refrain from such ugly comments,' Hans Castorp rebuked him. 'Women smile on all sorts of occasions, just to smile. It is pointless to worry about it every time. Why are you forever cringing and writhing? Like all of us, you have your good points and your bad. For example, you play the music of Summer Night's Dream very prettily, and not everyone can do that. You must play it again soon.'

'Yes, there you sit offering me your condescending advice,' the wretched man replied, 'and have no idea how much insult is in your consolation, that you only humiliate me all the more with it. It's easy for you to offer comfort from your high horse, because even if you look rather silly at the moment, at least you had your chance once, and were in seventh heaven, good God, and felt her arms around your neck--good God, just to think of it burns at my gut and tears at my heart--and, then, knowing full well all that was granted you, you look down on me in my wretched torment...'" (732-733)

As we come to the close of this lengthy review, I urge you all to find some time in your busy lifetime to seek out this text and experience it for yourself. It took me nearly a month to read it from start to finish and it was certainly the highlight of this particular January. As the cold dawdles and the responsibilities of life continue to squeeze one in its vise, it is quite an escape and a relief to enter a world where rest cures are the rule and the cultivation of the body and mind are the loftiest goals. It would be hard to name this the single greatest book I had ever read, but it certainly makes for a strong case.

Merge Records Anniversary Box Set Deadline & Festival

I felt that I would take a brief respite from my hiatus to point out that tomorrow, January 11, 2009 is the deadline for signing up for the SCORE! Merge Records 20th Anniversary Box Set. The cost is $199 and if I had that kind of disposable income, I would buy this in a second. That said, if anyone wants to give me a late-breaking Christmas or early-breaking birthday present, this would be it. It is cool that they give you a box so that you have a place to store all of the stuff they give you, which totals these goodies:
-14 "best of Merge artists" mix CDs by various celebrities
-1 remix CD
-1 covers CD
-1 comedy CD
-1 coffee table book of all Merge album covers
-1 box to hold all of this stuff
-also downloadable content, such as the latest Superchunk bootleg show in their "clambake" series.

The only thing missing is a Merge t-shirt.

I don't expect any rich person to swoop in and ask me what my mailing address is for no good reason, but I wanted to write about this because I believe that Merge is, pretty consistently, one of the greatest record labels ever. They are right alongside Matador and Sub Pop and Touch & Go, and they perhaps eclipse K, Dischord, and SST. They are holding a festival the same way that Touch & Go and Sub Pop have for their anniversary years. For those of you unaware of who may play this festival, I will offer my dream line-up for this event. It promises to be one of the premiere musical gatherings of 2009. It is from July 22-26, 2009, so hardcore indie rockers will probably be able to go to the Pitchfork Festival (assuming it will happen again this year, and I would be shocked and disappointed if it didn't) and then return to Chicago for Lollapalooza right after. Then a month later they could go to New York for All Tomorrow's Parties. This, of course, is way later than Coachella, and who knows whether that gathering will prove more appealing than last year. I might just have to return to L.A. if it does. (Ed. Sadly, though Coachella will happen to take place over my birthday weekend, and would make for a wonderful gift to myself--particularly since both Morrissey and a Pavement reunion are rumored as headliners--I will be spending my 26th birthday in Disneyworld with my parents and little sister. This would not be such a cause for complaint if I had not gone to Disneyland twice in 2008.)

So, a 5-day festival in North Carolina should include between 30 and 50 bands. I don't know 30 bands on Merge Records, but here are all of the ones I would pray to sign-up:

Superchunk
The Arcade Fire
Spoon
Dinosaur Jr.
Polvo
Robert Pollard
Trail of the Dead
East River Pipe
Caribou
Camera Obscura
Lambchop
The Magnetic Fields
Conor Oberst
Buzzcocks
The Clean
Teenage Fanclub
Volcano Suns
M. Ward/She & Him
Portastatic

and finally the band that could make the festival an absolute must for all of its die-hards:
Neutral Milk Hotel

I like NMH but nowhere near as much as MBV, so their reunion would not be enough for me to make the trek to NC. However, people seem to be very obsessed with them, and their reunion would certainly make for quite the story. Superchunk playing anywhere will always make me think twice about where I should be, but I'm not in the sort of financial condition I was in a year-and-a-half ago when I saw them play in Chicago and then saw them play in New York a few days later in the course of the same week. I would also assume that other bands not necessarily on Merge might be asked to play, since this festival is so long. But there are a lot of bands on the label that I didn't list, so who knows what's going to happen. I just think it's great that they are putting together such an extravagant celebration for the whole year of 2009. Okay, hiatus resumed.

Multiple Bles8ings - Jon & Kate Gosselin and Beth Carson

This is a guest blog post by my little sister.

Since Jack is on hiatus until he finishes his next book, I've decided to update his blog for him. One of the presents I received over the holidays was Multiple Bles8ings, by Jon and Kate Gosselin. Some of you may have seen their show while flipping channels on TV. I think that the show is entertaining. Basically, it is about a very different sort of family. They have two sets of multiple children-twins and sextuplets. There are two eight-year-olds and six four-year-olds. I began watching this show over the summer. The various tales of grocery shopping and taking day trips to amusement parks oddly fascinated me, and every Monday I recorded the new episodes on DVR. One day, I was at the local CostCo grocery shopping, and I was looking over the book section, as I usually do. I had watched the episode about Jon and Kate publicizing their new book, Multiple Bles8ings. I had wanted to read the book, and as soon as I saw it on the shelf at Costco, I put it in the cart. However, my mom didn't allow me to buy it, but then I got it on Christmas morning. The book has been on the bestseller list for quite awhile, and I heard it was well written from a few sources. I wasn't prepared for what I was about to read. From the first chapter I was entranced. I thought that their book would pretty much retell every thing that I already knew from their TV series, Jon and Kate Plus 8. I was definitely wrong. The book went into much more detail then I ever thought possible. My favorite part was the story of Kate almost adopting a little boy. Before Kate became pregnant with the sextuplets via infertility treatments, she longed for just one more child. Kate, by profession, was a nurse before she quit her job. She was monitoring a teenage girl's health before she was to have her first baby. The girl's mother did not want to adopt the baby once he was born because the father was a different race then they were. The mother begged Kate to adopt her grandson once he was born. After pondering their answer to this question for over twenty four hours, Jon and Kate declined, for fear that they would accidentally isolate the boy once he was older because he would be "different". Here is an excerpt from the text-the reasons that they want/do not want to adopt.



"Throughout the night we weighed the pros and cons. Pros-the baby would have two big sisters to spoil him, I would not have to suffer through possibly another difficult pregnancy, and we would be giving this little boy a comfortable, godly upbringing where he would always feel wanted and valued. Cons-we hadn't even thought through this situation for even a full twenty-four hours. What if, even after adopting this baby, I still felt a longing to birth my own child? Would Mady and Cara [their twins] adjust to this abrupt life-changing decision?
And then there was family. I learned later in the day that our families were less than thrilled with the possibility of us choosing this unexpected detour in our future. While not outwardly discouraging it, my mother acted as spokesperson as she encouraged us not to take one step forward with this adoption until we received a clear, concise, peace-in-our heart response from God. Jon's mother, speaking with unabashed honesty, was a bit more resistant. She adored our girls, cherishing their angelic faces and hair like shiny black corn silk. They were her blood, and by all outward appearance, that was more than obvious. Jon and I were concerned that any baby who was not our own would be forever separate, set aside, different. I was not sure if we, in this case would be acting in the child's best interest." (24)



I disagree with their beliefs in this situation. This is the choice that many families have to make that choose to adopt every year. I think that adopting a child who is different just makes them more special and different, but that makes them more interesting. This book would be an ideal purchase for anyone who is interested in the show. Adults and kids alike would enjoy the book, although some parts about the pregnancy are intensely detailed, which would confuse or bore younger kids. If you haven't seen the show before, definitely watch it before buying the book. Ultimately, I recommend this book to anyone! It is an interesting read and different than any other book!

Hiatus / Best of 2008 List

This post is to signify that Flying Houses will be going on hiatus for an indefinite length. Don't worry, the reasons for it are not serious. The fact is I have started The Magic Mountain today and it is 851 pages and I do not know how long it will take to read. So do not think me lazy and realize that I am hard at work, whether it turns profits or not.

In recompense, I would like to offer a Best of 2008 List offered up in the Pitchfork style, as if I were a celebrity they wanted to query. Complete with a biographical profile.

Welcome to the first and only edition (for now) of Flying Houses Year-End Guest List. Each year we poll one blog author about his favorite things that happened that year in music, other various applied arts, and general living. This year, 2008, it's Christopher J. "Jack" Knorps, who is responding to us from a supine position on his bed in his parent's house, with his laptop sitting on a little tray which prevents extreme heat from irritating the groin area. This year Mr. Knorps wrote his second novel and accepted a temporary assignment as a proofreader!

Favorite New Songs of the Past Year:

Pretty much whatever songs are on the top 10 albums list I intend to include somewhere in this "interview." If I had to make a top 10 singles list, I would put "Nothing Ever Happened" by Deerhunter at the top of the list. I would also put "Ativan" by Atlas Sound up there. I enjoy "Flashing Lights" by Kanye West. That is a song that is on my iPod shuffle that I listen to though I rarely listen to Graduation. I thought "The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters was a pretty cool song, especially when I saw the video totally randomly on a motel TV the first and only time. I think that is from 2007 though. I haven't consumed enough in 2008, that's my problem. The song "The Lucky Ones" by Mudhoney was a great classic track to come out as if it were in a time capsule from 1992.

Favorite Older Songs at the Moment:

The Germs, because of the previous post here. I am very intrigued by all things Darby Crash. This past year though, I don't know. I seemed to have listened to a lot of Smiths this year, but that is probably true for the last three or four years now. I also listen to New Order a lot and a few of those reissues--like Technique--I really wanted to get but ended up passing on because I didn't want to drop $20 on a CD. The same goes for the new Cure album, whose critical reception didn't excite me enough to make me want to seek it out. That is true for the new Of Montreal album as well. I have listened to Liars a lot this year. All of their albums are better than they seem at first, and I really want to get Drum's Not Dead. I also went through a huge Black Flag phase where I had to get all of their albums while I was living in L.A. One friend in particular hooked me up with In My Head, Loose Nut, Live '84, and Family Man. I always enjoy listening to Sonic Youth and it seems like they haven't put out an album in a while, but two years isn't really that long of a time at all, especially since Thurston put out a solo album and Kim put out a Free Kitten album this year. I have gotten around to realizing why the Slits Cut album is so awesome. I also really got into !!! this year and can't wait to see what they do next, though I really wonder if they can top their previous highs. I think "Me and Giuliani Down By the Schoolyard (Based on a True Story)" may be the best single of the 00's decade, but others may disagree.

Favorite New Band:

I would say Be Your Own Pet but they aren't exactly new and they aren't exactly still extant. I thought These New Puritans were pretty cool. I haven't listened to Fleet Foxes and I might say them if I had.

Favorite Song Ever:

That's a really hard question to answer. There's very few songs I don't get sick of after hearing so many times. Maybe some old long classic song, like David Bowie's "Station to Station" or Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray."

Best Recent Concert:

I didn't go to many shows in 2008, and though the Deerhunter set I saw at the Metro in November was highly notable, nothing compares to seeing My Bloody Valentine live in person. That was at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago at the end of September. "You Made Me Realise" was everything I hoped it would be. Their setlist may not have been my ideal MBV setlist but it was hardly unsatisfying. And the mystique, the way the show was carried out, totally didn't make me feel like I was being put on, or that MBV were selling out doing a reunion tour, even if it cost me $50 to see it.

Last Great Film I saw:

Also, not many movies in 2008. Many On-Demand and on cable and even a few rented on DVD, but in the theaters, it would have to be Synecdoche, NY. A very bizarre movie that I'm not sure I would watch again. Okay I might watch it again under the influence of particular chemicals. Obviously it is a great script from Charlie Kaufman, though there has been some question about his directorial skill, as this is his debut in that field. This film is not a classic masterpiece, but it is great for being things that all other movies never try to be. It is completely original and there is nothing else like it. Philip Seymour Hoffman totally carries the film, though I would be lying if I didn't admit I got a little bored towards the end.

Last Great Book I read:

Well, Lexicon Devil really moved me more than anything recently. Of all the books reviewed on this blog, I will have to say that in 2008, obviously the two big Thomas Mann books astounded me entirely--Doctor Faustus and Buddenbrooks. Dead Boys by Richard Lange was the best recommendation from a friend, the best thing I borrowed, the best "discovery" I made. It had been a long time since a book of short stories had captivated me. Desolation Angels reminded me of how great Keroauc could be. I was surprised to find that it might be my favorite book by him, so far at least.

Favorite Piece of Musical Equipment:

My $75 guitar and $25 amp. My guitar has been restrung by a bunch of random music store employees because I don't know how to do that, and has probably cost about $50-$75 in the process. But I have had these for over four years now and they supposedly still work, even though they are sitting in my garage and I haven't played them in about five months. It was great to have my little bungalow-type studio in Silverlake where my neighbors were almost entirely cool with me practicing whenever I wanted. But I'm really bad about trying to bring my guitar playing up to an ability where I can say, "I actually know how to play." I may never know actually how to play, but making noise for the sake of it is an unique pleasure that many others may not understand. I still wish I could be in a band somehow though. It's just as hard as trying to make it as a novelist, though. But I think your individuality is able to stand out more in music.

Favorite Record Shop:

Tie. Amoeba Records in L.A. and Reckless Records in Chicago. Amoeba is like the Disneyland of record stores. You go there and you just know you're going to have fun. Reckless is not as fun but you still feel very cool whenever you go into any of their 3 locations in the city. I like the Wicker Park one best for feeling cool. I am not sure which branch inspired the film High Fidelity, but probably that one.

Best Purchase of this Past Year:

Nothing. I really cannot think of a single purchase that was useful or worthwhile or made me particularly happy. Probably some clothes or something. My most recent haircut. This laptop tray. My new pair of headphones. My new replacement cell phone which was supposedly free but which they charged me $10 for anyways.

Best Thing I did this Year:

Went to Las Vegas for the first time. That may not be the best but the first night I spent there was very eye-opening in ways I was not expecting. I went to the beach in Malibu one day in July after living in L.A. for about nine months. That was a worthwile and good thing to do. You cannot complain about beaches in Malibu. I also went to a Cubs spring-training game in Scottsdale, AZ, and though I have problems with a particular bar there, seeing a Cubs game at a home venue outside of Wrigley Field reminds me just how great the Cubs fans are, and how no matter where they play, they will always be the most beloved team in sports. Their choke in 2008 was not the best thing, but it was exciting to see them get to the point where they choked. I'm also glad I saw Dodgers, Angels, and Lakers games while in L.A.

Favorite Music Venue:

Spaceland in L.A. because I could walk there from my apartment and because they had this weird fishbowl type room where you could smoke inside (even though it's usually not so bad to have to go outside in that climate). The Echo and Echoplex were also pretty much comparably cool though.

Favorite TV Show at the Moment:

Intervention on A & E because I like the reality aspect of it and I like seeing people talk about why they need to do drugs. It is helpful from a rehabilitative standpoint, but I have to admit there is a bit of a perverse vicarious thrill in watching them fulfill their need, and that probably doesn't necessarily want to make the viewer stop doing drugs. It's always interesting when there's a new episode, they're rarely disappointing. But aside from that....Family Feud or Who Wants to be a Millionaire? or Jeopardy! Or weird cable shows about people running from the cops--I saw this show called "Why I Ran" once and that was pretty sweet.

Favorite Video Game at the Moment:

Zelda: The Twilight Princess on Wii, which I am still in the midst of and have been playing for the last several months very rarely. It's an amazing game, but it gets harder and more frustrating as you go on, and that maybe contributes to me not wanting to play as much. I really like the Wii News Network--I like doing the slideshow.

Favorite Radio Station:

Indie 103 in L.A. I also like Chicago Public Radio on 91.5. XRT in Chicago (93.1?) is pretty cool too. I bought the new TV on the Radio album when I heard them play a song from it on that station.

My Ringtone:

Is the annoying basic Verizon one on my new phone. I should change it to something cooler. There are a few soothing ones. I wanted to get a real song for my ringtone but I was too cheap to buy the LG Chocolate. I think "Blindness" by the Fall would be a cool ringtone.

Top 10 Records of 2008:

10) These New Puritans - Beat Pyramid
9) Fucked Up - The Chemistry of Common Life
8) REM - Accelerate
7) Atlas Sound - Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel
6) Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks - Real Emotional Trash
5) Portishead - Third
4) Be Your Own Pet - Get Awkward
3) TV on the Radio - Dear Science
2) No Age - Nouns
1) Deerhunter - Microcastle/Weird Era Cont.

Honorable Mention goes to Scarlett Johansson. While her album was not necessarily revelatory, it is probably one of the best albums to be put out by an actress, and was therefore "surprisingly good." Zooey Deschanel does not count as her album with M. Ward is probably much better.

The Breeders also deserve a nod for "Mountain Battles."
Wolf Parade deserve a few props for "At Mount Zoomer."
Silver Jews "Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea" is surprisingly strong, though admittedly not as appealing as "Tanglewood Numbers" or "American Water."
Islands' "Arm's Way" is front-loaded like crazy, but ambitious and worthwhile.
The Hold Steady's "Stay Positive" continues their trend of albums steadily decreasing in quality, though still being very excellent on the whole.
Vampire Weekend is bigger than Arcade Fire. I think.
Times New Viking "Rip it Off" is not the #39 album of the year (as it is according to Pitchfork) but they are a better live band than a treble-y recorded one. See them live, wait until they release their "Do the Collapse" to spend money on an album by them.
I really want to hear Fleet Foxes and Titus Andronicus. And I also want to get the new Of Montreal album.

And as for 2009, the new Animal Collective will probably be the first purchase.

Lexicon Devil: The Fast Times and Short Life of Darby Crash and the Germs - Brendan Mullen with Don Bolles and Adam Parfrey

I got Lexicon Devil for Christmas and just finished reading it an hour ago (6:00 PM, December 26, if I don't finish this and post it until tomorrow, the truth must be told). That means I was only in possession of it for about 30 hours before finishing it. That time includes a holiday gathering with cousins, nine or so hours of sleep, a couple hours at a mall, and a couple hours watching The Dark Knight on DVD, another Christmas gift. Basically all the other time was spent reading this book, and few other times in my life have I been so utterly thrilled by what I was reading that all other outside time became secondary. That is when literature is taken to new heights and the reason for my wanting to get involved in it reveals itself. This is the best book about music since Our Band Could Be Your Life, though it has been out for six years now, which is only another year or so more than that other thoroughly enjoyable volume. But make no mistake: Lexicon Devil is the height of the oral history genre, surpassing Please Kill Me and even the ridiculously exhaustive Nirvana text by Everett True. Darby Crash and Kurt Cobain have a few things in common, but as elusive and mysterious as Cobain may seem, Crash is ultimately even more legendary for the simple fact that he was not as famous. But they both killed themselves, they both loved heroin, they both loved Queen, and they both played with Pat Smear.

Anecdote #1: I almost bought Lexicon Devil from Circus of Books in Silverlake right after I first moved there. It was my first day touring the "Sunset strip" of the neighborhood on foot and this was the only interesting book I could find in that store. I decided against it and I was a fucking idiot for doing so! If I had read this book while living in L.A., it might have changed my life. I at least would have taken a few tourist side-trips.

Anecdote #2: When this book was referenced at the beginning of Palahniuk's Rant, I instantly wanted to read it again. There are a couple similarities between the protagonist of Rant and Crash. #1--both are begged to leave by their high schools, and are awarded diplomas the same way, and #2--both like to stick their arms down holes. In one interview Crash is asked "what was your first sexual experience?" and he answers, "When I stuck my arm down a garbage disposal."

That said Palahniuk does not borrow any more characteristics from this real-life icon. I really want to see What We Do is Secret now--which is I think a fictional re-creation of the story of his life--and I've always wanted to see The Decline of Western Civilization and have not been lucky enough to do so yet. This book is absolutely wonderful and if you are at all intrigued by the Germs, or punk bands in general, you will love this book.

The easiest place to start is with the Germs music itself. I only have "MIA" on my iPod, and truthfully it was not the easiest batch of songs to get into. At times they just sound awful and unlistenable, such as on the very poorly recorded "Sex Boy." However, there were more compelling moments. The song "Lexicon Devil" itself is probably their most famous single. "Circle One" and "No God" are great songs. "Forming" is iconic for being their first song and most self-fulfilling. Looking at the track listing of their album G.I., I would recommend that people get it. "What We Do is Secret" and "Communist Eyes" and "Richie Dagger's Crime" are all very good too. But that is about it. There are really not very many songs in their catalog.

It is difficult to situate them into their proper place in their influence of the American punk rock movement. They came after the New York punk bands like the Ramones and Television and Richard Hell, but only by a couple years. They did not like those bands as much as other people. They started in 1977 and finished in 1980. They came up around the same time as X, and throughout this book X are held up as their older, more mature mentors. They cared much more about sounding clean and crisp. They were much more professional.

The Germs came before Black Flag and the book does a good job of explaining the difference between the South Bay scene and the Hollywood scene which the Germs were a part of. There are many interesting and memorable characters in this book, but none more than Crash himself. Some of the anecdotes offered are really twisted and some are the most hilarious things I've ever read. But Crash is undeniable as a superstar performer.

He was born in 1958 and died in 1980 on the same day as John Lennon. He was raised as a Scientologist and attended an experimental high school where he started doing acid when he was 14 or so. He was friends with Pat Smear from about that age and started up the band more as a gang than as a musical entity. They made up their own t-shirts for the band before they ever rehearsed. Belinda Carlisle was their first drummer, though she never even really sat behind a drum kit for them, and I was wondering why her name sounded so familiar and later I realized it was because she was the only person in the scene to get truly mega-famous as the lead singer of the Go Go's. Joan Jett also figures somewhat heavily in the story as the producer of G.I. and as a maker of "piss-sicles." But they do finally start playing music and at the beginning their shows are more about the spectacle of Crash's onstage unpredictability, but later they do actually earn rave reviews for their first LP. One review says that it is the best album to come out of L.A. since the Doors did "L.A. Woman." Personally, I feel Los Angeles by X is a stronger statement than G.I. by the Germs, but the Germs are clearly trying to take their art to a higher and more surreal and less explicable level.

This book is mostly about playing shows and getting kicked out of places and vandalizing things and living a punk lifestyle. Darby Crash never had any money and would always ask people to give things to him, and they would. He also steadily got into heavier and heavier drugs. The stories about his last couple weeks of life are incredibly moving. The biggest bombshell that gets dropped in this book is about Crash's homosexuality that he felt he needed to hide due to the attitude of the L.A. punk scene at the time. Some of the discussions about this topic make up the most compelling portions of the book. I certainly had never heard anything about that before, but then again I didn't know much about Darby Crash beyond, "He killed himself when he was really young."

Although it may sound like this book is kind of dumb, Crash is actually the author of some very poetic lyrics, and many of the intellectual undercurrents of the music are discussed in very clear terms. One of the segments I found particularly trenchant was this offering:

Rik L. Rik: Darby found Spengler's Decline of the West interesting because of his theory that there is no ad infinitum chronological progression with cultures. In the West people think of culture in terms of each century building on the last and becoming more and more advanced, but Spengler disagreed. He saw each culture living a cycle and then dying. Then the next culture comes along and has exactly the same kind of cycle and dies. Each culture has three phases...where it starts out primitive followed by a glorious epoch...then it goes into decline and finally dies after a period of crazed decadence and general degeneracy of the masses. (127)

From there, the story goes to Darby's love of fascism, which may or may not be influenced by Bowie's pronounced love of that same concept. To be sure, it is weird, but it is bold to state and interesting to think about. Darby Crash is super obsessed with David Bowie. One of the funniest parts is when he is talking to his friend Will Amato about how he cracked the code of the album title Diamond Dogs. He says, "What are a girl's best friend?" And then he says, "What is man's best friend?" Little parts like that are what make this book great.

I don't even know what else I want to talk about in this book! I guess just that I read it super fast, faster than anything else I can ever remember reading that was this long (294 pages), and it's a great book for anyone that wants to be in a band and it's a great book for anyone that wants to spread true anarchy. Crash is an icon and this book perfectly captures every reason why. An absolute pleasure and an absolute treasure.