We are writing our year-end post from the La Quinta Inn in Grove City, Ohio, where our car broke down tonight after we drove over a nail and got a flat tire. Since checking in, we’ve been debating what exactly La Quinta is Spanish for. We previously believed it was Spanish for “The Plunger,” based on our experience at the La Quinta in Gainesville, Florida, where Ben clogged the toilet not five minutes after checking in. Since our room did not have a plunger, Ben had to inquire at the front desk, where he was informed that La Quinta stocked exactly one plunger, which the front desk attendant handed to Ben in front of six other people waiting in line. “Should I return this here?” Ben asked. “No, we’ll pick it up later if just leave it outside your room,” the attendant said. “Sort of like a scarlet A,” Ben said. “Like a what?” the attendant said. “Nothing. Thank you,” Ben said. After plunging the toilet, Ben left the plunger outside the door. It was still there two days later when we checked out.
Moving on. 2008’s highs and lows.
LOWS
We spend the night of December 30 at the La Quinta Inn in Grove City, Ohio.*
There is absolutely nothing good on TV.
There is no plunger in our room.
HIGHS
We did get a special AAA rate on our room.
The Animal Planet Channel just showed a man kissing a shark, resulting in the shark biting the man’s mouth, resulting in thirty-five stitches.
BEN: And his last one was Sunshine, which was weird but we liked it.
DAN: I didn’t like that one. That was the one with the sun-monster guy lost in space, right?
BEN: Yes. We didn’t have very high expectations, so we were pleasantly surprised.
ERIN: We watched it when we were on a big Cillian Murphy kick.
BEN: You mean when you were on a big Cillian Murphy kick?
ERIN: Dan, have you seen Red Eye?
DAN: Yeah, I think I saw it once.
ERIN: Once? That’s it?
BEN: Trust me, you’re not going to appreciate the subtleties of Cillian Murphy’s performance until about the eighth viewing. Right, honey?
ERIN: Oh, you know what else Danny Boyle did? Millions.
BEN: I never saw that one.
ERIN: Yes you did. We saw that together.
BEN: No, you saw it with someone else but it wasn’t me.
ERIN: You mean some other guy who wasn’t my husband?
BEN: I don’t know who it was, but you didn’t see it with me.
ERIN: Yes I DID. You saw the movie. Neither of us liked it.
BEN: How did I not like it if I never saw it?
ERIN: Trust me, you saw the movie.
BEN: Trust me, I did not see the movie.
ERIN: This is just like how you think I saw that Steve Martin movie with you but I never saw it.
BEN: No you did see it–
ERIN: What was it again? Something like The Tailor of Something.
BEN: It was The Spanish Prisoner, and you definitely saw it with me.
ERIN: Then how come I can’t remember it?
BEN: Why would I have written it down in my little book if we didn’t see it?
ERIN: Oh, your little book! If it’s inscribed in your little book then suuurrrely it can’t be wrong!
BEN: Erin, I remember us watching it together, and we could go rent it tonight and this is what would happen, we’d start watching it and after about five minutes you’d think to yourself, “Oh, crap, I have seen this before,” but you would deny it until later on when you’d say to me, “Baby, forgive me. I do remember seeing The Spanish Prisoner with you. Specifically in April of 2004, just like it says in your little book which is never wrong. I’m sorry.”
ERIN: You mean, that’s what would happen if we rented Millions?
BEN: I. Haven’t. Seen. Millions.
ERIN: Who else could I have seen it with?
BEN: Did you see it with Brooks?
ERIN: [pauses] It’s possible I saw it with Brooks.
BEN: I think you saw it with Brooks.
ERIN: I think you’re so in love with this Brooks theory that you’re forgetting you actually saw the movie.
[Long, awkward silence as credits finish rolling. DAN, BEN and ERIN are the last three in the theater.]
DAN: So, who wants to use an Olive Garden gift card?
—–
* = Which we thought was fantastic. A sure contender for Best of Movies 08. Coming soon!
We really wanted to hurt someone after we paid money on two of those four films, and none of them were what one might subjectively call “good.” Especially Vantage Point. That was a steaming heap of cow dung. We wanted to punch someone — anyone — walking out of that one.
Eleven films, or just under one a month, may seem like a lot to you. But for us, it’s a significant downgrade. During those carefree newlywed days in Nashville, we’d see a movie at the theaters almost every week; if we didn’t like it, we’d go watch another one (a k a, “pull a double feature”) to cleanse the palate. This year was, in some regards, major progress for us, notably from a budget standpoint. But as movie critics, we took several steps backward.
After Matthew Leathers expressed disbelief that we’d attempt to post a Best of 08 movies list when most of the really good stuff (Revolutionary Road;The Wrestler;Wendy & Lucy; Frost/Nixon) hasn’t come out yet, while we have yet to see the rest of what’s supposed to be the really good stuff (Slumdog Millionaire;Synecdoche, New York;The Visitor;The Reader; even Wall-E), we realized we’d be doing a disservice to our readership if we offered any definitive word now on the best of film in 2008. Thus, expect our list sometime in the new year, perhaps shortly after Matthew posts his so we can just crib from that.
Until then, some facts and figures on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which we saw today with both of our families:
LENGTH OF MOVIE: 159 minutes (a k a, “looooong”)
LENGTH OF SHORT STORY THE MOVIE IS BASED ON: 24 pages.
APPROPRIATENESS FOR VIEWING WITH IN-LAWS: Very appropriate. (Certainly more appropriate than Meet the Fockers.) Only one swear word (said emphatically by a seven-year-old); very tasteful, non-explicit love scenes.
PERCENTAGE OF MOVIE NARRATED BY SUSIE BEERS FOR THE SAKE OF JON BEERS: Somewhere around 40%.
NUMBER OF SCENES IN WHICH A MAN IS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING: Seven.
FIRST MOVIE DAVID FINCHER AND BRAD PITT WORKED ON TOGETHER: Seven.
PITT CHARACTER FROM A FINCHER MOVIE WHO WOULD CRUSH BOTH DET. DAVID MILLS AND BENJAMIN BUTTON: Tyler Durden in a TKO.
VERDICT FROM THE WOMAN SITTING IN FRONT OF US: “That movie was endless.”
VERDICT FROM DAN VORE: “I felt like I just went fifteen rounds.”
VERDICT FROM ERIN VORE: “That old man was hot as donkey.”
VERDICT FROM BEN VORE: “Tilda Swinton is nutburgers hot.”
VERDICT FROM DONNA VORE: “That wasn’t what I was expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting.”
AGREED-UPON AMOUNT OF MOVIE THAT COULD HAVE BEEN CUT OUT WITHOUT ANY ADVERSE EFFECT: Answers vary. Anywhere between 15 minutes (Erin) and 94 minutes (Dan).
HOURS YOU WILL SPEND AFTER THE FILM WISHING YOU WERE A BALLET DANCER: Approximately 3.5.
HOURS YOU WILL SPEND AFTER THE FILM INSPECTING YOUR WRINKLES AND PONDERING MORTALITY: Approximately 3.5.
NUMBER OF TIMES YOU WILL THINK, “THIS IS AWFULLY SIMILAR TO FORREST GUMP”: Anywhere between three and eleven.
Although our music tastes are not nearly as thorough or eclectic as, say, Jerry Grit (whom we consider a kind of indie rock mentor, and who began his own year-long music project here), we’ll do our best to offer a varied list of the Eleven Best Albums of 2008 (and our eleven favorite songs).*
First, a quick note on methodology: Erin, Ben and guest critic Bevin Beers all agreed on our eleven favorite albums of 2008, then individually ranked them (numerically, from favorite [1] to least favorite [11]). Scores are included alongside each review. Ben has lodged an official protest because
THE HOLD STEADY, Stay Positive only gets an “honorable mention” with a score of 26. Erin and Bevin both ranked it 11th, while Ben ranked it 4th. We’ve already had a pro/con on this album, and it nearly ripped our marriage apart. Let’s just go straight to the list.
10. FLEET FOXES, Fleet Foxes[24]. It was love at first listen when we heard “White Winter Hymnal.” The first (though least impressive, beard-wise) of four great bearded artists to appear on our list.
9. VAMPIRE WEEKEND, Vampire Weekend[20]. We are sure to endure the wrath of Mr. Grit himself** for loving this album as much as we do, but our hips just can’t stop shaking to “Cape Cod (Kwassa Kwassa)” or “A-Punk.” Listening to this album again last week after it spent months on the shelf, we’re convinced it’ll hold up well.
8. CALEXICO, Carried To Dust[19]. It’d be a stretch to say that if Cormac McCarthy wrote music instead of books it’d sound something like Calexico (albiet it with a (slightly) sunnier outlook on life). But they definitely reside in the same geographical terrain. Would Anton Chigurh have Calexico on his iPod? Or would he listen to acid jazz? Probably acid jazz.
6. TV ON THE RADIO, Dear Science[18]. Ben’s number one did not fare as well with the Beers sisters. Everyone else – Rolling Stone, Spin and Entertainment Weekly – is anointing Dear Science best of the year. It’s the first TVOTR album that really clicks for us. “Golden Age,” “Halfway Home” and “Lover’s Day” have all received ample airplay on the Vore car stereo. The second of the four great bearded albums of the year.
5. SIGUR ROS, Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust [17]. As close as Sigur Ros will get to releasing a radio-friendly Top 40 album. Right out of the gate, “Gobbledigook” sets a poppy tone while “Inni mer syngur vitleysingur” is a tiny masterpiece that bursts open with a joyful horn explosion. The later half of the album sags, but the first five songs more than make up for it.
4. DR. DOG, Fate[16]. Bevin’s favorite album of the year scored decently with the Vores. The second best thing to come out of Philadelphia (after “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”).
3. BON IVER, For Emma, Forever Ago[12]. Bon Iver [a k a, Justin Vernon] pulled an Andrew Bird/Ray Lamontagne and wrote this album at a remote cabin in rural Wisconsin (with only a DVD of Northern Exposure as escape). The runner-up for beards (and cats)!
2. THAO, We Brave Bee Stings And All [11]. Erin’s favorite album of the year. We have Mr. Bescak to thank for introducing us, although Matthew Leathers*** claims he told Ben about it a long time ago. And Ms. Nguyen graced Cincinnati with her presence this year! Yet another reason to love Ohio.
1. BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY, Lay Down In The Light[8]. The only album to score in the single digits, Lay Down in the Light was no one’s top pick but it scored no lower than three on any list. Was the difference the beard? It is the most impressive of all. And Mr. Oldham’s talents are not limited to the musical realm. Thinking about just how much we played this album this year, we’re comfortable endorsing it at number one. And three of its songs made our favorites list below.
MOST DISAPPOINTING ALBUMS OF THE YEAR
MY MORNING JACKET, Evil Urges. We’ve heard MMJ is great live. We’ve heard this album praised by friends whose tastes we greatly respect. Craig Finn of The Hold Steady told Rolling Stone it was his favorite album of the year. But we just don’t get it. “Highly Suspicious” doesn’t get us excited, it just makes us want to skip to the next song. And why is Jim James writing love songs to a librarian? O-ver-rate-ded (clap clap clapclapclap).
STEREOLAB, Chemical Chords. We incurred Mr. Grit’s wrath for not liking this album. We know Stereolab are stalwarts. We’re big fans of Sound-Dust. It’s just that this was background music that didn’t have the decency to just fade into the background. Seriously, we’re selling this to the highest bidder.
WOLF PARADE, At Mount Zoomer. Both Mr. Bescak and Mr. Leathers have made the case that this album grows on you with each listen. And it’s not a bad album. But it doesn’t belong in the same breath as Apologies to the Queen Mary — which we’ll listen to twenty times for every one spin AMZ gets.
FAVORITE SONGS OF THE YEAR
“Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It),” Beyonce. If you have not already watched this video, 19,510,835 people have beaten you to it. But someone living in a cave has not. You can still get there first.
“Fated to Pretend,” MGMT. Here’s a little experiment you can try sometime: Get on the highway and start this song while driving 55 mph. Scientists predict that by the end of it, you will be going 93 mph and have a grin stretching from ear-to-ear. Out of curiosity: Just how many drugs do you think were consumed in the making of this video?
“White Winter Hymnal,” Fleet Foxes. Insanely catchy and beautiful harmonies in the round.
“Army of Ancients,” Dr. Dog. We found no good videos of this song on them there World Wide Webs, so just go buy the album. You’ll also be treated to “Uncovering the Old,” which is no slouch either.
“Walls,” Beck. No cool video here either, but you can at least listen to the song here.
“Slowness,” Calexico. And yet another without video. But it’s pretty, trust us.
“Magick,” Ryan Adams & The Cardinals. The quality’s not great, but these hooks cannot be contained by poor video and sound quality.
“Easy Does It,” “So Everyone” and “I’ll Be Glad,” Bonnie “Prince” Billy. Every song on this album is well worth a listen, but these three stand out. We found a funky version of “Easy Does It” on YouTube, but it might scare the faint of heart. We will merely link to it with this disclaimer: We prefer listening to BPB rather than watching him. (There’s a big difference.)
“Golden Age,” TV on the Radio. Is that a chicken playing bass?
** = We suspect Mr. Grit would concur with Mike Breen’s assessment of VW in Cincinnati’s alt-weekly CityBeat: “The ‘big album of the year that I just don’t get.’ I hear people say it’s like Paul Simon’s Graceland mixed with Indie Pop. And I always say, ‘That sounds like the music that will be playing if I ever blow my head off with a shotgun.’”
*** = Speaking of Matthew Leathers, his Top 10 music list is here.****
**** = And let’s not forget that Mark Hoobler has already posted his Best of 2008 here.
For two people who don’t own basic cable, we watch a lot of TV. This year we got a Netflix membership, then we dumped a Netflix membership. (Three cheers for the Cincinnati Public Library system!) And while we watched a lot of “new” TV in 2008, we certainly didn’t watch enough to give you a Top Ten list. So we’re breaking our list into three parts: The Best of “New” TV (television that aired in real time in 2008), The Best of “Old” TV (shows we caught up on), and Our Favorite TV Moments.
THE BEST “NEW” TV OF 2008
4. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE. It was a sort of renaissance year for SNL, and the public face of that was Tina Fey as Sarah Palin. The real star, though, was Kristen Wiig, who could make virtually any sketch funny simply by appearing in it. (True to form, SNL is trying to beat a good thing into the ground: see the awful Josh Brolin sketch at a Japanese restaurant where the writers simply told Wiig, “Just play a psychotic, over-the-top woman who jumps through a wall at the end of the sketch.” Please, this is not necessary.) We also have a soft spot for the incredibly dumb MacGruber sketches, particulary the ones with guest star Shia LaBeouf. Of course, Amy Poehler will be missed. (“I’ve got one leg and it can go all night long. Jealous?”)
3. THE WIRE. The “live” part of “The Wire” in 2008 (Season 5) was — let’s be honest — the weakest of the show’s five seasons. But a weak season of “The Wire” is still light years better than almost anything else on TV. At the risk of Erin making Ben sleep on the couch, however, we will refrain from devoting any more space on this blog to “The Wire” than we already have.
2. LOST. A renaissance year for “Lost” as well, as the flash forward format reinvigorated the show and shifted our perpetual confusion from the question “Will they get off the island?” to “What on earth happened after they got off the island?” (And now, “What happened to the ones who didn’t get off the island?”) The quickest, thriftiest season yet, season four also delivered what has been the show’s finest hour to this point: The revelatory, game-changing “The Constant,” which finally (officially) put time travel on the table. We also loved that episode because it featured Desmond (or, as he is known around the Vore household, “Desmond!”, said in breathless, bosom-heaving fashion) and Penny, whose love story — while it appears to have a nice bow around it at the moment — has seemed to us like the through line of the show. Also, we love Benjamin Linus. Love him. You’re going to be rooting for him by show’s end, just you watch.
1. 30 ROCK. We’ve already called it the funniest show on television right now, and we don’t have much to add, except that Tracy Jordan says at least three things a week that we immediately appropriate as our own. If all you wanted were hugs from black people, why didn’t you become host of “The Price is Right”?
THE BEST “OLD” TV OF 2008
LAW & ORDER: CRIMINAL INTENT at 11:30 p.m. on Channel 64. There was a two month stretch from early June to mid-August when we found ourselves setting everything aside at 11:30, crawling into bed, and watching Vincent D’Onofrio and Katherine Erbe (better known as Anna from What About Bob?) unriddle the latest whodunit perplexing the greater New York City area. “Law & Order” is the TV equivalent of comfort food. It is virtually the exact opposite of “The Wire.” Certain forms of it (especially SVU on Tuesday nights) are insufferably over-the-top. But we were strangely fascinated, possibly obsessed, with D’Onofrio’s Detective Bobby Goran, an uncannily brilliant detective with unmatched powers of reasoning and deduction who had a bit of Columbo in him and could deceive you into thinking he was just some Joe Shmoe in a suit. (He did have to deliver some truly awful bits of dialogue, which was also part of the charm.) We became so attached to Mr. D’Onofrio that we (Ben especially) would get extremely angry when that schmuck Chris Noth was on instead of our Vincent, even when the commercial teaser during the 11:20 “Friends” commercial break specifically featured D’Onofrio saying, “Law & Order: Criminal Intent: It’d be a crime to miss it.” That’s how it felt when D’Onofrio was replaced by a third-rate hothead like Noth: like we’d been robbed. Strangely, we have not watched a single episode for the last four months. But it was a good run, Vincent.
BIG LOVE. Erin disappeared into a Big Love-shaped abyss for about a two week stretch early this summer. You may remember her recommending this one when she resurfaced.
IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA. We were late to the “Philadelphia” party, but it’s good to be here. Anne Evans also paid us a strangely flattering compliment the other day when she said to Erin, “If you didn’t like Ben so much and Ben had a drinking problem, you two would be just like Charlie and the Waitress.”* To which Erin responded, “I’m going to start liking him less immediately.” Yesterday we rewatched the Charlie freak-out scene in the season 2 episode “Hundred Dollar Baby,” when he seamlessly shifts from crying to laughing to violent rage to freakish paranoia and finally full-on wig out in the space of about 20 seconds, all while he is eating a plate of scrambled eggs. This, friends, is acting.
FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS. We have Bevin Beers to thank for introducing us to Bret and Jemaine, although we didn’t know at first if we liked their company. After two or three episodes though, everything clicked. Although Erin is freaked out by Jemaine’s lips, there’s really nothing to dislike about this show unless, like the fruit stand guy, you hate Australians and mistake Bret and Jemaine for Australians even though they’re actually New Zealanders. The “Flight of the Conchords” CD will also perk up any road trip with the bouncy French pop of “Foux du Fafa,” the freaky Bowie tribute “Bowie,” and the power ballad “Leggy Blonde” featuring the hapless Murray, who is the show’s secret treasure. If you haven’t seen the video to “Business Time,” do it now.
BEST TELEVISION MOMENTS OF 2008
Michael Phelps wins eight golds. One of the highlights of Voreblog’s year was when Michael Phelps personally wrote in and shared his favorite poop story. Also, did anyone else enter a weird time warp after Phelps finished swimming, as you got sucked in to watching beach volleyball and then water polo and then gymnastics and track and — whoa! — soon enough it was four-thirty in the morning?
The 2008 NCAA Finals. Every year since 2000, Ben calls Denys Lai (or vice versa) and we share the spine-tingling “One Shining Moment” video at the conclusion of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Final. (This tradition started in 1996 in the Norton Hall lounge. It is amazing the range of sports- and culture-related commentary that we can fit into those two minutes.) This year, we actually had a great game to watch before Luther Vandross took center stage thanks to Mario Chalmers and the comeback Jayhawks.
Game Four Jazz win vs. Lakers in the Western Conference Semis. Utah let a 12-point lead slip away in the final four minutes, then shut down Kobe Bryant and the Lakers in OT to win 123-115. Ben had a heart attack late in the fourth quarter and Erin had to resuscitate him for overtime. He recovered just in time to watch Andrei Kirilenko stuff Bryant twice. (Bryant finished 13-for-33 for the game.) Utah lost games five and six, so this was really all Ben had to cling to until…
The Celtics blow out the Lakers in the Finals. We watched Game Six with the Cicaks. This was honestly the first time Ben could remember being happy about the way an NBA season finished. (He was pleased with the Pistons beating L.A. in 2004, but not this pleased.)
THE MOST DISAPPOINTING SHOW OF 2008
THE OFFICE. Watching the past two seasons has given us a renewed appreciation for the brevity of the British “Office.” Two seasons. Twelve episodes total. One special two-hour finale. Occasionally we dig those DVDs out and watch them again, and it’s still brilliant. The same cannot be said for its sagging American counterpart, which can still on occasion deliver a great line (Michael tasting wine at Jan’s dinner party: “It has sort of an oaky afterbirth”), a great episode (the season 4 finale, “Goodbye, Toby”), and a great guest star (Amy Ryan’s six episode run). But those moments are becoming fewer and farer between.
NEW SHOW WE COULD HAVE TOLD YOU WOULD CRASH AND BURN
MY OWN WORST ENEMY. Show of hands: who saw this show’s cancellation coming the moment they saw the first preview? What, everyone? Everyone except NBC and Christian Slater? Well, it looks like Slater’s hand is half-raised. The only way we can see how this show got green-lighted is if Jack Donaghy really was a network executive.
SHOWS WE’RE CONSIDERING SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS WITH IN 2009
“The Shield” (Ben)
finishing “The Sopranos” (Ben & Erin)
“The Wire” (again) (Ben)
“Mad Men” (Ben & Erin)
“Battlestar Galactica” (Ben!)
We’re open to your suggestions. Please steer us right.
Coming tomorrow: The Best & Worst of Music!
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* = Did you know Charlie and the waitress are married in real life? As are Mac and Sweet Dee. And Dennis and Liam McPoyle.**
Books, more than music, TV or movies, are especially disserviced by Top Ten lists. Let’s compare them to movies. Your typical movie runs around two hours. Your typical book generally demands two to three times that time investment, longer if you’re attempting something like Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace and shorter if you’re reading Dr. Seuss or just happen to read at a blistering pace. And there are so many books. Yes, there are so many movies too. But it seems to us that it’s much easier to narrow TV shows or movies down to a shortlist than it is to corral the Top Ten Books of the Year.
We suspect many would disagree with us on this. Think of all the new music that comes out every year. How on earth do we narrow that down to the ten best? Rolling Stone engages in a particularly ludicrous exercise of ranking the Top 100 songs of the year. There may be a case for the single catchiest, most emblematic song of any given year. But after the top two or three, what differentiates song #12 from, say, #63? Or #91? What makes “Spaceman” by The Killers sixteen spots more superior than “Aly, Walk With Me” by The Raveonettes? (And RS abides by the polite notion that no band should occupy more than one spot on that list, a democratic but critically limiting gesture.)
This is all standard nose-turning at the commodification of art into tidy boxes with grades or number values attached to them. But let’s face it, we love Top Ten Lists. They’re punchy! They’re controversial! They’re conversation starters! So here we go. (We promise not to do this throat-clearing for every post this week.)
We refuse to rank these books in any order, though we have grouped them thematically and singled one out as the best. Without further ado, here are the Ten Best Books released in 2008 that we found the time to read.
SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS
DANGEROUS LAUGHTER, Steven Millhauser. The weakest of our four collections, Dangerous Laughter has been earning such praise mainly as a sort of literary Lifetime Achievement Award for Millhauser. All of his standard themes — adolescence, the extremes of obsession, the strange fantastical realms of imagination cozying up to reality — show up in thirteen stories that read like spooky, sometimes comic parables. (Millhauser wrote the short story that was the basis for The Illusionist, if that gives you a frame of reference.) The first story in this collection, “Cat ‘n’ Mouse,” is a literary treatment of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. The cat and mouse become heroic, tragic figures locked in an epic contest of wills. It sets the stage for all that follows, with “A Room in the Attic” and “The Wizard of West Orange” being the standouts. While we heartily recommend this collection, we especially recommend Millhauser’s very first novel, Edwin Mullhouse, a parody biography of an 11-year-old as written by his best friend that is one of the richest, funniest and most terrifying books about childhood we’ve ever read. If you’re in the mood for something shorter, this essay that Millhauser wrote for the New York Times Book Review in October is also an excellent introduction.
OLIVE KITTERIDGE, Elizabeth Strout. Strout is a master of the rituals and routines of small town lives, and these stories, set in Maine and revolving around the central figure of retired schoolteacher Olive Kitteridge, are rich with spiritual drama. These people love and hurt one another. Sometimes they forgive and reconcile, many times they do not. What Strout does so well is locate the humanity of her characters even as she strips them to the bone and lays them bare on the page, skeletons and all. Olive is among the orneriest and least likable figures in recent fiction, which is part of her charm. She’ll remind you of at least one of your relatives. Melancholy looms over each of these stories (the best of which is “Security”), but if you see Olive through to the end you’ll be rewarded with that rare quality only the best short stories deliver: a genuine epiphany that requires no sleight of hand.
OUR STORY BEGINS, Tobias Wolff. Most of the stories in Our Story Begins are collected from previous editions, but they remind you of Wolff’s mastery of the form. Reading them a second, third and fourth time, you’ll be startled by the hints and suggestions of all the other stories taking place on the margins of the page. “Flyboys” is ostensibly about three boys building an airplane, but underneath that there’s a shifting allegiance of friendship as well as a prickly portrayal of class tension. While the new stories here aren’t as dazzling as his earlier stuff, they are sturdy, well-crafted stories that showcase Wolff’s skill at pinpointing how the choices people make illuminate the depths of their character, leading to self-discoveries that usually happen a moment too late.
UNACCUSTOMED EARTH, Jhumpa Lahiri. We really hate the cover, and that’s the only thing going against the best short story collection of the year. Lahiri is firmly grounded in the mundane of everyday relationships, particularly between husbands and wives, fathers and daughters, or brothers and sisters. Her stories are simple and straightforward, and unlike Millhauser they pull no punches. Which is why it’s so startling to reach the end of them and feel genuinely transported by something revelatory that has just transpired on the page. The three linked stories that end the collection start slow but build to a harrowing crescendo, touching down in recent history by weaving one of the characters into a profound natural tragedy. Whether this collection is better than her first, the Pulitzer Prize-winning Interpreter of Maladies, is purely an academic argument. You should read them both.
NON-FICTION
We’ll recommend only one book here, as we dabble very little in non-fiction or generally stick to current events-related titles that typically age poorly. That said…
THE DARK SIDE, Jane Mayer …is an exception to the rule, a timely work of investigative journalism that translates well to book form and should remain relevant for years to come. It is also a thoroughly depressing read. Mayer traces the evolution of America’s policies on torture and detainment in the wake of 9/11 as our government sought to balance the need to prevent another such attack with the mission to uphold American ideals of civil rights and justice for all. Mayer’s account is even-handed but appropriately critical: she makes no straw men, but she also drives to the heart of who authorized and shaped policies which effectively endorsed torture. Not a light read, but a provocative, thoroughly researched one. It will take a toll on you.
To lighten things up before we get to the final five fiction picks, let’s have a brief interlude with …
THE FUNNIEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR
ZOMBIE HAIKU, Ryan Mecum. Few books capture the existential angst of zombie existence better than Ryan Mecum’s Zombie Haiku. His meter is both Keatsian and bone-chilling. You will laugh. You will cry. You will lock your doors and take temporary solace in the fact zombies have difficulties with doorknobs. If you have not already introduced yourself to this zombie masterpiece (and even if you have), do yourself a favor and watch this:
GRANDMA’S DEAD: BREAKING BAD NEWS WITH BABY ANIMALS, Amanda McCall & Ben Schwartz. We’ve all had to share bad news before. But how do you tastefully convey the sentiment which says, “You’re my least favorite child?” Or, “Recycling won’t help?” It’s a tricky two-step. Thankfully we have baby animals to help us do it. This book is handily equipped with tear-away postcards that you can mail to your friends.
GET YOUR WAR ON, David Rees. The most profane and outrageous strip of the past six years, Get Your War On made the jump to an animated comic this year at 236.com. It was also collected in this single volume. It is extremely offensive. It is also hilarious.
STUFF WHITE PEOPLE LIKE, Christian Lander. Adapted from the blog of the same name, SWPL skewers a certain type of liberal-minded, “Wire”-loving, NPR-listening, “Arrested Development”-watching, indie rock-enthusing white subculture. Or, the Vores.
Now, on with the Top Ten.
NOVELS
NETHERLAND, Joseph O’Neill. If you would have told us that we’d fall for a book about cricket this year, we would not have believed you. But we did. And Netherland was probably our most enjoyable read of the year. It is a book which makes you aware of the pleasure of just reading it (without doing so in a distracting or pleading way). Many books have tried to capture New York post-9/11. Netherland is not a perfect book, but it almost perfectly succeeds in just that task.
THE STORY OF EDGAR SAWTELLE, David Wroblewski. A big, sprawling yarn roughly based on Hamlet starring a mute boy and set on a dog-breeding farm in Wisconsin. Not your typical formula for a bestseller (aside from the dog part), but The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, some fifteen years in the making, is superior popular fiction. You may have heard that Oprah recommends it too. (We’re coming around on Oprah ever since she got Cormac McCarthy to go on TV.)
LUSH LIFE, Richard Price. Like a season of “The Wire” compressed into 464 pages. Set in the rapidly changing Lower East Side, Lush Life starts with a murder (an accident? premeditated?) and accelerates into a multi-layered, sociologically-complex thriller on class, race, justice and forgiveness. Everyone says Price writes the best dialogue out there, and we find no reason to disagree.
(While we’re at it, who is Walter Kirn sleeping with at the New York Times Book Review that he gets to review all the best books and do such a hack job on them? His hack job on Lush Life [summary: "I'm secretly incredibly jealous that I didn't write this book myself but watch me write a tough, gritty, street-smart review that only glancingly addresses the book I'm supposed to be reviewing"] was surpassed only by his hack jobs on Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close [summary: "I'm secretly incredibly jealous that I didn't write this book myself nor am a young prodigy like Mr. Foer but I can sure take the punk down a notch or two with a snarky review"] and especially How Fiction Works [summary: "I'm secretly incredibly jealous of the esteemed critic James Wood and I wish he would die. Therefore accept my gift of a steaming heap of sophomoric condescension"]. Stop. Giving. This. Man. Reviews. Or just assign him to James Patterson “books.” (We scare quote “books” because no one has invented the term for “paint-by-numbers-using-words” yet. Give us your suggestions!) This way Kirn would still collect a regular paycheck six or seven times a year but do no further harm.)
(Glad we got that off our chest.)
HOME, Marilynne Robinson. Home was not as rewarding as Gilead, but it’s Marilynne Robinson. She’s written three books in twenty-eight years. If she writes a book, it makes the Top Ten list.
Last but certainly not least,
2666, Roberto Bolaño. How do you separate Bolaño’s masterwork from all the hype surrounding it? How can a dense, sometimes confounding 898-page novel separated into five parts which may or may not add up to a greater whole really deserve all the superlatives being thrown its way? Being as prone to hype as we are (and given the fact no less than six of our friends are reading this and having giddy conversations about its potential even in part one), the only way to find out was to start reading it and plunge our way through the occasional four-page-long sentence or bizarre dream sequence or tangential, Borges-esque surrealism. We’ll admit right now that we haven’t quite finished yet (we’re still in part four), which may strike some as preposterous that we’d still include it on a Best Of list. We promise a full review in the new year. But like Netherland in a quite different fashion, 2666 (a reference to the apocalypse? To the time lapse between the Garden of Eden and Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt?) is about the journey, and it’s a reading experience unlike any we’ve had in a long time. For this reason, and for the book’s open defiance of categorization or closure (what Henry Hitchings calls Bolaño’s “enthusiasm for misdirection”), we jump on the hype bandwagon and endorse it as the Best Book of the Year.
(If you are still of the mindset that we sacrificed whatever credibility we may have had as literary critics by endorsing a book we haven’t even finished yet, we have only one question: Have you never written a paper on a book that you did not read in its entirety? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. That said, should we encounter something so awful in the last part of 2666 that would make us regret our endorsement, we will retract its Book of the Year status and retroactively award it to Netherland. You will know if this happens.)
HONORABLE MENTION
THE BRIEF, WONDROUS LIFE OF OSCAR WAO, Junot Diaz. Why just an honorable mention for last year’s Pulitzer winner? Well, it technically came out in 2007, but we finally took the advice of friends who said the book demanded our attention. Talking about it just now, we can’t believe we both read this just seven months ago in the spring. It feels like four years ago and it feels like last week. You know what we mean?
THE YEAR’S WORST
We didn’t have to endure many stinkers this year, but one stood out:
WHAT WAS LOST, Catherine O’Flynn. There are few genres which make us cringe more than “literary mystery.” Why must genre fiction always aspire to “literary” standards? Michael Chabon has done much to tear down these silly categorizations, but still they persist. For us, the worst example of this recent fashionable trend was Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories, an insufferable little book which succeeded neither as literary novel nor mystery yet garnered both critical acclaim and commercial success. (Stephen King was typically hyperbolic about it. In all fairness, Case Histories may have suffered from the Rebound Syndrome, since we read it immediately after the exceptional On Beauty by Zadie Smith.) In the vein of Case Histories, Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost tries to be a commentary on urban and societal change while telling the story of a missing girl who may or may not have resurfaced twenty years later. Yawn. We felt compelled to finish it to say we did. Now we feel compelled to tell you it was bad. Our work here is done.
We couldn’t help but notice you standing by the stage during the last song before the first encore. We couldn’t help but notice because, although we were all the way up in the balcony, it was still the balcony in the Taft Theater, where everyone has seats to sit in, generally because the entertainment at the Taft is of the sit-down variety. You, however, made the bold choice of getting out of your seat and walking to the very front, stage left. We do not know what compelled you to draw attention to yourself in this way. We’re just saying this is how we noticed you.
At this point we also noticed that you were really into air-drumming. You also dabbled in a bit of air guitar here and there, but air-drumming seemed to be your forte. We enjoy the occasional foray into air-drumming (and air-guitaring) ourselves, although when we partake it is generally in the privacy of our own home. Also, when we do it, it is usually to music that’s, you know, kind of rockin’. And while we like Over The Rhine, we do not feel their strengths are suited to ferocious drumming or guitar shredding. (This is just us.)
One other thing: When you began convulsing and bending and jerking and fist-pumping, it was obvious that the music was taking you someplace, someplace we have never been. Far be it from us to judge, but whatever it is you were feeling in that moment, that feeling was wrong. We’re sorry to be the ones to break this to you. But you can’t say we didn’t try and speak the truth in love.
We’re putting the finishing touches on our Best Of lists for the year, so no Friday Recommends today. But check back Monday for the Top Ten Books of the Year, followed later in the week by movies, TV shows and music, as well as the highs & lows of Voreblog’s year.
“Oh, the silent majesty of a winter’s morn… The clean, cool chill of the holiday air… Uncle Eddie in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer.”
Like many good people across the nation, part of our spiritual preparation for the event that is Christmas is the time-honored tradition of watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Nothing says it’s holiday time like Snot hacking on a bone underneath the table at the Griswold Christmas dinner. While we could simply spend the rest of this post repeating lines from the movie (“It’s not going in the yard, Russ. It’s going in the living room”; “Can I refill your eggnog for you? Get you something to eat? Drive you out to the middle of nowhere and leave you for dead?”), we’ll cut straight to the chase for the Sixth Voreblog Readers Forum: What’s your favorite Christmas movie?
Sixth in an occasional series promoting a positive message about our state.
“What, four states are still more corrupt than mine? I’ll fix that.”
The Rod Blagojevich scandal has had many commentators buzzing about the corrupt political climate of Chicago, with others chiming in to say, “You think Chicago is corrupt? Check out New Orleans.”
Well, two guys named Lee Sigelman and John Sides set out to measure exactly how corrupt every state is by plotting the “total number of public corruption convictions from 1997 to 2006 per 100,000 residents.” This is the chart they came up with:
As you can see, Ohio is clearly not in first place. Woohoo!
Ohio: More corrupt than 90% of America, but not the most corrupt!
