#343 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Thursday May 5)
Good morning,
BOOKS I MISSED FOR THE FIFTIES AND SIXTIES
We are now well into the “best books” of the century. You can catch them, decade by decade, each Monday. When they’re done, I’ll add a link to the entire list. Already people have pointed out some of my lapses in judgment.
Peter Bain insists that The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, by Tom Wolfe, captures the zeitgeist of the 60s in the same way as On the Road spoke to the beat generation. It’s hard to argue with that; although Mr. Wolfe appears in my list of books in the 70s and 80s. He is a master of capturing a time and a type.
Russ Chittenden maintains that Pale Fire, by Vladimir Nabokov, belongs. He also suggests National Book Award finalist, A Fan’s Notes by Frederick Exley. The latter is a contemplation of celebrity, masculinity, sports, and mental illness and its treatment. Exley’s introduction reads, “Though the events in this book bear similarity to those of that long malaise, my life…I have drawn freely from the imagination and adhered only loosely to the pattern of my past life…”
There are two noticeable absences from the list. The first is The Martian Chronicles, by Ray Bradbury. It also is hard not to add The Illustrated Man. The second is anything by Saul Bellow. Bellow won the Pulitzer Price and the Nobel Prize for Literature for his Humboldt’s Gift, Mr. Sammler’s Planet, and Herzog. Lesson learned and mea culpa. They both belong.
As for Bradbury, I had the pleasure of meeting this giant of modern literature. He began his career writing short stories and is well known within that genre. He maintained that his literature was fantasy (and not science fiction). Here is what some other people have said:
"I was warped early by Ray Bradbury... As a young teenager, I devoured Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451." –Margaret Atwood
"I can imagine all kinds of worlds and places, but I cannot imagine a world without Bradbury." –Neil Gaiman
"His gift for storytelling reshaped our culture and expanded our world... Ray also understood that our imaginations could be used as a tool for better understanding, a vehicle for change, and an expression of our most cherished values." –Barack Obama
BOOKS OF THE SEVENTIES
Diane Cairns says that if the intent is to capture books influential to the culture of the 1970s, one has to include Love Story, Jonathan Livingston Seagull and The Godfather. I concur that the era must include the first two, for their cultural impact; but certainly not for the quality of the writing. As Roger Ebert commented on Jonathan Livingston Seagull, it was "so banal that it had to be sold to adults; kids would have seen through it.”
As for The Godfather, the movie came out in 1972, having just celebrated its 50th anniversary (I really can’t believe it!). But the book came out in the 60s, and I included it in that decade’s list.
And, with words of love of reading books of the seventies, this from Tor Kenward: “Love seeing this list. My father had a bookstore in Santa Barbara when I returned from Viet Nam. He allowed me to take any book out as long as I did not break the spine. I often read a book a day, hungry for storytelling, mental time travel to other worlds. It changed my life for the good, and the days I worked in the store, sold many copies of every book on your list. Wonderful memories.”
THE EIGHTIES
My Cousin Chris notes that I left out Blue Highways by William Least Heat Moon. Good point, Chris!
WE ARE NOW THOSE PEOPLE
I had plenty of people who helped shape me and my world view when I was growing up, chief among them my parents. Others were teachers, mentors, and family friends. Most of these people were well known to me. Many I loved. All I respected. There is one name, however, that has been nagging at my brain—Harry J. Krebs.
I have no idea what sort of man Harry J. Krebs was. I saw him only in passing but I read his name often. Mr. Krebs was the president of our congregation when I was a kid in Hebrew School. To me, he was almost a mythic figure. Who was this guy who stood beside the Rabbi and Cantor at High Holy Days, who wrote monthly newsletter to congregants, who spoke at every service, and whose name seemed known to everyone? I suspect he was a businessman with children who otherwise lived a pretty normal life. But at that young age, I looked at him as a mighty figure, a volunteer with responsibility to help guide our community.
As I plow through my seventh decade, I sometimes think of this man and others like him from my youth. We require the commitment of people like him to keep the institutions that make us a community thriving and sustainable. It dawned on me that our generation has taken the mantle of Mr. Krebs, serving our time quietly in pursuit of making the world a tiny bit better. And just as Harry’s legacy is now just a part of what he contributed to, so we will be names lost in the ensuing years, remembered vaguely by the next generation that will become the next bearers of his mantle.
Have a great day,
Glenn
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