Thursday, August 25, 2022

Book Review


Mumbo Jumbo

by Ishmael Reed

     What if the battle between good and evil came down to a conflict between those who are too uptight to dance and those who are free enough to dance? Recasting the oldest conflict nown to humanity in these terms is what Ishmael Reed does in his novel Mumbo Jumbo. This conspiracy theory novel digs down into the roots of Western and African culture, extending all the way back to ancient Egypt and the battle between Osiris and Set. But you don’t need to believe in conspiracy theories, Egyptian mythology, or other such “mumbo jumbo” to get what Reed is saying in this somewhat allegorical story.

The setting is 1920 in New York City, the time of Prohibition, the Jazz Age, and the Harlem Renaissance. New dance crazes are taking off in popularity and this is causing panic in some sectors of the white society who think of it as an outbreak of a disease or pandemic. Certainly this plague sweeping across America is more exciting than COVID-19. Two Vodun houngans, Papa LaBas and Black Herman, see the outbreak in another light; they see it as an opportunity to allow loas from the otherworld to enter into America since they believe that dancing is a result of possession by spirits. At a rent party. The two houngans get into a discussion with Abdul Hamid, the leader of a new religious sect caled the Atonists. In opposition to the Vodun movement fostered by the others, Abdul Hamid represents order, discipline, and strict morality. This conflict between Vodun and the Atonists represent two sides of the African-American soul. One side is steeped in magic and African traditions brought over by slaves to the Americas, and the other side is the conservative religious line that runs through Marcus Garvey’s UNIA, the Moorish Science Temple of Noble Drew Ali, the Black Israelites, and the Nation of Islam.

Whats gets revealed as the story progresses is that Abdul Hamid is secretly working for an ancient secret society called the Wallflower Order. (Get it? A “wallflower” is someone who goes to a dance but instead of participating, srands by the wall and watches.) Thw Wallflower Order is also employing Hinckle Von Vampton, a white O.G. grand master of the original Knights Templar. How he managed to survive from the 14th century up until the 1920s is never addressed, but this is a story involving magic and the occult so just let it go at that. Von Vampton is the editor of a sleazy tabloid newspaper and he is searching for the Android, an African-American spokesperson who will say what the Templars and Wallflower Order want him to say. Their mission is to control African-American people by preventing them from dancing.

There are other subplots and subtexts in this short novel. The most prominent involves another secret society called the Mu’tafikah, a gang that is plotting to steal indigenous art from a mueseum and ship it back to their countries of origin. Reed is addressing the fact that when you look at “primitive” art in the Metropolitan Museum of Art or other galleries, you are, in fact, looking at stolen property. Such high culture is a result of the colonial looting of artifacts from cultures that did not want to give them up. Some of them were made as sacred objects that served as means to ensure social cohesion in tribal societies. They weren’t intended to be gewgaws for rich white people who don’t even understand what they mean in the context of the societies that produced them. What Reed does in this novel is bring to light the ways in which white colonialists decimated the societies of the people they conquered and enslaved. The supposed superiority of white civilization is not built on the stable foundation of nobility and ethics the way some would want us to believe.

But the tone of Mumbo Jumbo is not bitter. In fact, it is barely even hostile. The concern of the Knights Templar is that if the dance crazes continue to flourish in the African-American community, then white culture will lose its purity and die out. But the response from Papa LaBas and Black Herman is not to destroy white culture. Actually they are solely concerned with creativity; they want to create a vibrant, life-affirming culture that is a unique and vital life source for the people of America. There is nothing destructive about it at all. And they don’t want to simply revive the old traditions of Vodun; they want to reinvigorate them to become an authentic American idiom of its own. Ishmael Reed’s message is that everything will be alright if African-American people are given the space to be themselves and live lives that are authentically their own.

The novel climaxes when the two houngans crash a party sponsored by the Wallflower Order in a rich woman’s mansion. It is there that Black Herman gives an account of ancient Egypt that starts with Osiris teaching the world how to dance and play music, while his envious brother Set tries to make everybody logical and unemotional. The teachings of Set eventually reach Moses who Reed portrays as a false prophet. These beliefs are then passed on to the Wallflower Order, the Knights Templar, and up to the Atonists of Abdul Hamid in the 1920s. If you read the Egyptian mythology passage carfeully, you will find parallels between the ancient Egyptians and the story of these New Yorkers in the Harlem of the 1920s. Scholars of history, theology, and mythology might be quick to point out that Reed’s portrayal of Egypt and Moses are not accurate at all, but in this way, Reed is reiterating his point that African-American people do not need to remain obedient to their traditions; they can reinvent and recreate their mythologies, religions, and culture to suit the needs of their times. That is how cultures are renewed and kept alive. In a Hegelian sense, this conflict between tradition and innovation is necessary to keep the social praxis thriving.

Ishmael Reed has certainly written an interesting novel with a unique set of ideas. The biggest problem with it is that the plot mostly moves along through dialogue and conversation. It is mostly people talking to each other. Some people will hate me for saying so, but I didn’t like James Baldwin’s Another Country for the same reason. But Reed’s characters do tell stories and exchange interesting ideas. It is just that a little more action and activity would have served the story well. The book is all about a plague of dancing but there is very little dancing that happens as the plot progresses. That type of descriptive action would have brought a lot more life into the narrative. Also, there is a small amount of word play and punning that Reed does well, but he could have done a lot more of it. Despite these flaws, this novel is still definitely worth reading because it expresses such an interesting range of ideas and a legitimate critique of American society.

Mumbo Jumbo is unique in another way. Written in the early 1970s, Ishamel Reed saw a connecting thread between the 1960s with its Civil Rights and Black Power movements, and the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s. He saw both eras as times of renewal and creativity, times for Black Americans to build on and reconstruct their identity. In this way, Mumbo Jumbo is a celebratory and optimistic novel. Maybe we are now living in a time when this kind of optimism and rebirth could become useful again. 


 

Thursday, August 18, 2022

Book Review


In the Wake Of the Plague:

The Black Death & the World It Made

by Norman F. Cantor

     I never have any luck when finding books about the Black Death. Of the handful I’ve read, the only interesting accounts I’ve come across have been chapters in history books covering a broad spectrum of issues related to the 14th and 15th centuries. Norman F. Cantor’s In the Wake Of the Plague is no exception. It’s difficult to even tell why Cantor wrote this dreadful book. Maybe he wanted to finish one last project before he died. Maybe he was senile. I don’t know. But I do know this book is a waste of time.

Cantor opens up with a chapter on what the Black Death actually was. His contention is that it was not entirely the bubonic plague, but a mixture of that with anthrax that had spread from diseased cattle to the human population. He doesn’t appear to know much about science, but fair enough, I’ll stay with him for the time being. But then he launches into a long, unnecessary sidetrack about plagues, pandemics, and other diseases that adds nothing of value to his discussion.

From there, he goes into an analysis of medieval society that starts with Princess Joan’s journey to Spain to get married. There is a lot about the Hundred Years War, peasant uprisings, the structure of the nobility, the relation between church and state, the disputes over the papacy, and a detailed account of Bradwardine’s progressive theology and his conflict with the more conservative and less-scientific philosophers of the day. At some points, this all reads more like a general history of the era and less like a treatise about the Black Death. In fact, the Black Death only has a tenuous connection to what Cantor actually writes about. He details the lives of people who died of the plague, but doesn’t say much about the plague itself as if it is little more than an afterthought or a way of making connections between people that aren’t really connected. Then there is some other stuff about the scapegoating of Jews and witches. It’s a mishmash of information loosely tied together by the theme of the plague, but none of it ever congeals into any kind of an intriguing narrative. It all seems quite boring and pointless.

The book ends with a couple of goofy chapters considering that the Black Death might have come from people eating snakes, something from outer space, or germs that spread from eastern Africa. There are then more sidetracks about diseases in ancient Greece and Rome, and AIDS in the 20th century. None of this is explained with sufficient detail to be convincing or even interesting. In the afterword, Cantor tries to explain how the Black Death affected society, but all he comes up with is some abstract social theorizing and commentaries on art history; none of these claims can be supported with any kind of tangible or relevant data.

The only good thing I can say about In the Wake Of the Plague is that it has a cool picture on the cover. That and the fact that it is so short and simple that it can be read in one day. In other words, it won’t waste too much of your time if you actually bother to pick it up. It is best to pass this one by. 


 

Saturday, August 13, 2022

Literary Analysis/Book Review


Lord of Dark Places 

by Hal Bennett

     Not much is known about African-American author Hal Bennett. His most well-known, yet still obscure, novel is titled Lord of Dark Places. Despite rave reviews from almost everyone who has ever read it, it is still off the radar for most bibliophiles. Maybe it is too transgressive, too ugly, too gut-wrenching for most readers. Maybe some people are too weak to follow a story in which the main character is a villain, an anti-hero, albeit with a certain kind of charm, who is also a Black man struggling with the turmoil of his inner-mind, a psychological space that is neither comforting nor inviting. Maybe those critics and scholars who set themselves up as gatekeepers of intellectualism don’t want us to see this side of the African-American experience. Those kinds of people should be ignored, or at least sidelined enough so that they don’t steal the thunder that Hal Bennett and this novel deserve.

As the story begins, we are taken into the deep south where the twelve year old Joe Market is fishing in a creek. The prose is rooted in the Southern Gothic style and immediate comparison to William Faulkner is legitimate, but that elder statesman of Southern fiction never dragged his readers into the gutters of perversion the way Hal Bennett does. Comparisons with Jean Genet also spring to mind as Joe’s father Titus comes to tell him that his mother just died while he was having sex with her. The father goes on to rape Joe, and, to the reader’s probable surprise, Joe admits that he secretly enjoyed it. Throughout the course of the novel, Joe repeatedly returns to this memory along with one other memory, the time he played the infant Jesus in a church play with the Virgin Mary, acted by a prostitute who he would later sleep with.

While those three events had a powerful impact on the development of Joe Market’s mind, there is something else that permanently shapes and ruins his self-perception. His father declares himself the prophet of a new African-American religious movement and takes his son with him. The two of them travel around the South, preaching in revival tents until the spectacle at the end of each meeting is revealed: Joe takes off his clothes, stands naked in front of the audience, showing them his enormous penis while Titus tells the audience that, for a small fee, anybody can have some private time with the young boy to bask in his divine glory. In actuality, this means Titus is pimping his twelve year old son who has sex with every customer be they young old, male, female, gay, straight, or anything else. The long term effect of this is that Joe grows into adulthood thinking his sexuality has a divine special purpose (I’m not sure if Steve Martin lifted this joke in The Jerk from Hal Bennett or not), and even worse, Joe deludes himself into thinking he is a black messiah, a new Jesus Christ.

Semiotically speaking, Joe’s phallus is a signifier that carries a lot of meaning with it throughout the entire novel. During childhood, Joe’s father teaches him to call it by the name “Willy”. After Joe settles in New Jersey, he re-christens it with the more northern and more adult-sounding name “Dick”. Finally, around the time he meets his bride-to-be, he renames it “Christopher” after the Catholic saint. He also names his son “Christopher” after his own penis. Through the use of male names and name-changes, Joe’s penis is personified, taking on a personality of its own, a centralized object in his life, almost becoming an entire character in itself. The name changes represent stages of growth in Joe’s life and as the novel progresses, it becomes obvious that the erect phallus connotes and associates itself with death. The life-giving, creative force of masculinity is, when wielded by Joe Market, inverted into a tool of destruction, slaughtering all who come into contact with it like a machine gun gone out of control.

In terms of semiotics, another key observation to make at this point is the absence or presence of boundaries. Within the confines of African-American sexuality, and within the Black community in general, Joe Market lives without boundaries. He has sex with anybody who pays for it and goes even farther by having sex with his father on a routine basis. In one graphic scene, father and son have male on male on female sex with a prostitute. But when encountering the white community, Joe is confronted with boundaries that humiliate and confuse him. In New Orleans, he encounters a white woman who insists on having sex with him, but she will only allow him to penetrate her through the barrier of a metal fence, a boundary he is able to see through but not cross. The fence is a barrier he can partially penetrate but it also restrains him at the same time. Afterwards, Joe goes away feeling frustrated, confused, and scared especially because the white woman threatens to call up a lynch mob if he reuses to have sex with her. The world he sees on her side of the fence, and what she says and does on that side, is one he can not fully comprehend, let alone participate in. Between the white woman and her fence, he feels accepted and unaccepted in her world simultaneously.

The other significant encounter Joe has with the white world is when Tony Brenzo enters the scene. While Joe is working as a gay street hustler in New Jersey, Tony, a vice squad cop, decides to arrest him. After pleading for mercy, Tony agrees not to book him if he enrolls in school and finishes his high school education. This is done and the two go on to become best friends. Tony’s main concern is that nobody has ever respected Joe for his mind, only taking interest in his body, particularly his penis. Tony may seem like an angel at this point, but as the story goes on, he becomes a little more complicated. As a cop he is honest when it comes to arresting murderers, robbers, and other hard criminals, but when it comes to smoking pot and having sex with prostitutes, quite often in threesomes with Joe, his morals are a little bit lax. Hal Bennett had a true talent for portraying the complexities of his characters’ minds; everyone in the book has inner conflicts and moral ambiguities like Tony’s and this goes a long way in making each one of them take on a distinct life of their own. By the end of the book, you feel as if Joe, his friends, and the people in his neighborhood are people you actually know.

While in nigh school, Joe meets his future wife Odessa, a pretty, morally upright church-going girl under the strict domination of her mother. Joe sees her as an opportunity to go straight, in more ways than one, and they later have a son together.

During Odessa’s pregnancy. Joe joins the army with his closeted gay friend Lamont. They get sent off to the war in Vietnam which turns out to be a traumatic experience for Joe. But before joining the army, Joe was getting lost on the straight and narrow path he had undertaken. He began smoking more marijuana than anyone could imagine a man being able to handle and he begins losing his mind. He hatches a bizarre scheme to kidnap and kill his boss’s pet turkey in order to convince Lamont to join the army with him (trust me, it makes more sense when you read the book for yourself), but when he is holding the dead turkey in his arms, he begins to think of it as a crucified messiah. It is at this point that the author begins to plummet the depths of Joe’s twisted psyche.

The war is traumatic for two reasons. One is that he sees an African-American airplane pilot die after being shot in the crotch. Joe is bothered by this because he sees a Black man entering death in a state without sex, neither man nor woman; the wound where his genitals used to be is neither penis nor vagina. From then on, Joe becomes obsessed with his own penis and struggles internally with his own sexuality, especially in his attraction to men. Then during a combat operation, Joe shoots a Vietnamese man. Here we see how he begins to suppress his emotions and embrace his identity as a dealer of death. At first he feels guilty and sick to his stomach, but he suppresses these feelings. From that point on, he goes through the same cycle every time his behavior results in someone else’s pain or death: killing then guilt then stoic unemotionalism. His constant pot-smoking and sexual intercourse help him to escape from anything negative he might feel.

After Joe returns from the war, his infant son Christopher ends up dead in his crib. Joe blames Odessa for this and begins abusing her physically and emotionally in some of the most heartbreaking passages of the novel. But nobody ever said this was going to be a cheerful read. Other bad things happen too. Tony asks Joe to be an informer a heroin dealing case that might involve Joe’s boss, neighbor, and sometimes sexual partner China Doll. Tony and Joe also grow closer together as romantic partners while other people die and Joe’s life continues to spiral out of control. Finally, China Doll has an orgy at her house on Halloween night that turns into the wildest ending you might ever read in a novel. It is at this orgy that we get the deepest insight into the confusion of Joe Market’s mind and once we get these insights we can also see there is a twisted moral code, shocking in its revelation, that Joe follows. In his mind, he does terrible things to people because he wants to save them from the world. He hurts people to help them. When he kills, he thinks he is saving people from the agony of life. Note that Sethe in Toni Morrison’s Beloved has a similar motivation when she murders her own daughter. When Joe beats Odessa, he does so because he loves her; he thinks he is no good for her and he wants her to leave him for a husband who is better. Joe is the Divine Redeemer and Savior who does terrible things to good people for the sake of liberation from the horrible world we live in, or so Joe tells himself in the tumultuous haze of his inner mind. This is sad because Joe’s friends all love him. He is charming, fun, and charismatic; the people around him see a lot of potential that he is unable to see in himself. And they are not entirely wrong. As a reader you will find him to be a monster, but through understanding his tortured soul, you still might find an ounce of sympathy for him despite yourself.

Lord of Dark Places has its share of flaws. Some passages are sloppy, some events seem haphazard and improbable. There are a couple loose threads in the story lines. But the strengths of the book are so powerful that these minor problems have little impact in the end. Bennett takes a lot of chances, almost too many it might seem. As a life story and character study of Joe Market, it is hard to pinpoint what the maain theme of the book actually is. It combines pornography and transgression with commentaries on race relations, gender issues, psychology, the atrocity of war and violence, and the general existential dread you might feel when confronting the bigger picture of the world. It examines identity in relation to sexuality, masculinity, bisexuality, and the African-American community. It takes a nuanced look at police relations with Black people. It addresses the issue of what it means for members of any race to be American. There is even a noir-like murder-mystery subplot that comes in more than half way through the novel. The writing isn’t really about just one thing; it brings all these elements together in a way that should have resulted in an overblown mess. But thanks to Bennett’s unique talent, it doesn’t. If the novel is trying to deliver one single message, it might be that the hyper-sexualization of African-American men can have destructive consequences if their sexuality is not guided by a strong, developed mind. But Bennett doesn’t write like the kind of author who wants to preach. He lays out all the blood, guts, and semen on the table so you can make of it what you will.

Other great things about this book are the well-drawn, ultimately unforgettable characters that harmonize so well with each other in the narrative. Joe’s friends explain sides of himself in ways that he can’t see and he does the same for them. The complexity of Joe’s character comes close to perfection; as a reader you want him to overcome his insanity no matter how bad or brutal he gets. The way the developmental events of his childhood keep resurfacing also works well as a narrative device and as a psychological indicator of Joe’s mental association and motivations. There is also the humor. This book is hilarious at times like Joe’s plot to kidnap the turkey, what Cheap Mary makes Joe do when she blackmails him, and the scene where Odessa’s mother walks in while Joe and Tony are double penetrating China Doll. Finally, there is the plot twists and the harrowing emotional turmoil. As the story goes on, corner after corner after corner gets turned in rapid succession, making your head spin. The unpredictability factor and shock value are high and by the end of the book, you might feel as if you have taken about fifty succeeding punches to the head. You might as if you’ve just spent a round or two in the ring with Mike Tyson. The ending might make you have a nervous breakdown. Is that good? Anything that can make you feel so emotionally drained at the end is great art no matter how unpleasant the experience might be. Writers of garbage like John Grisham or Ayn Rand will never make you feel anything this emotionally potent. That is why they aren’t true artists and Hal Bennett is.

Hal Bennett, it’s unfortunate you aren’t alive today to receive all the accolades you deserve for Lord of Dark Places. It is like the Mt. Everest of transgressive literature and reading it is like climbing to that peak. It is a hidden peak that only few have approached but maybe it is better for us to hold such a repulsive, grotesque, and beautiful secret for ourselves. There is no other book like this and there never will be again. Congratulations and all hail to the King Hal Bennett, whoever it was that you were.


 

Salman Rushdie attack: suspect charged with attempted murder


Suspect, 24, from Fairview, New Jersey remanded without bail over alleged attack on author in New York


 

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Legendary RE/Search Publications Founder V. Vale Interviewed by Lydia Lunch & Tim Dahl



The Lydian Spin podcast




 

Scarce Edition of Kerouac's Most Eccentric Novel


Dr. Sax

by Jack Kerouac

Ballantine Books, 1977

1st edition/2nd printing

mass market paperback

Among the shadowy doorways and brown tenements of Lowell, Massachusetts, Jack Duluoz grew up. Always lurking in the dark side of his mind is the shadow of Dr. Sax, cape flowing, slouch hat half-concealing a malevolent leer. He is but one of the ghosts and monsters that inhabit Jack's fantasy world, where memory and madness are intermixed in a mad universe waiting to erupt. 

(copied from back cover)




 

Vintage Classic Beat Generation Novel


The Dharma Bums

by Jack Kerouac

Signet Books/New American Library, 1959, 15th printing

mass market paperback

The book that turned on the psychedelic generation...

A barrier-smashing novel about two rebels on a wild march for Experience from Frisco's swinging bars to the top of the snow-capped Sierras.

Here are the orgiastic sexual sprees, the cool jazz bouts, the poetry love-ins, and the marathon binges of the kids who are hooked on Sensation and looking for the high...THE DHARMA BUMS

(copied from the back cover)






 

Saturday, August 6, 2022

Book Review


Njal's Saga

translated by Magnus Magnusson & Hermann Palsson

     Blood feuds are defined by cultural anthropologists as a means for avenging the crime of murder; when one family members gets killed, their family has the right to kill one member from the enemy family in retaliation. Theoretically, a blood feud can continue on for eternity just as long as people on opposing sides continue to have children. Most likely, the two sides of this small-scale warfare will get tired of murdering one another and agree to a truce. Anthropologists claim that blood feuds are a characteristic means of administering justice in societies with weak or no law enforcement or in places without strong centralized governments that are able to maintain stability. Extensive studies of blood feuds have been done in less developed countries like Albania and Montenegro, within gangs and organized crime families, and in the American frontier before the Civil War. One of America’s most famous blood feuds involved the Hatfield and McCoy families in the Appalachians before effective government was established in that region.

Njal’s Saga is a 13th century account of an Icelandic blood feud that lasted for more than fifty years. It grew to larger proportions until it blew up into wholesale slaughter and the burning down of entire family estates. It is a cold and brutal book with little mercy in it for the characters of the story or for the reader. Its stark depiction of murder and warfare leave little to the imagination; if this is meant to be a moral tale, it may be a failure since no definite ethical stance is articulated, yet if the reader wants to draw their own conclusions, there is plenty of information to work with.

Njal appears to be the pivotal figure of the saga, but just barely. His character grows as he advises his friend, the heroic and upright Gunnar, on how to strategize legally and in battle. Njal is a type of lawyer who knows the Icelandic laws inside and out and serves his community by advising people about their rights. He also has the gift of prophecy so he can he can see the future and give council to those who need it for their battles. Like the witches in Macbeth, he serves a literary function because his prophecies provide a narrative foreshadowing, helping to build tension within the story. But Njal is barely the central figure of the saga because he never participates in violence and actually dies three-quarters of the way through the story. With a little tweaking, this could have worked to good effect in the story-telling because without his foreshadowing, the reader gets set adrift in the text without a map for guidance which might function well in adding an element of unpredictability and suspense. But actually it doesn’t work simply because the events towards the end of the book are not especially different from anything that happens in the beginning or the middle of the book. This was written without the self-consciousness of modern authors or editors, so the anonymous person or people who wrote Njal’s Saga can be forgiven if they don’t live up to current standards.

The other characters are roughly interchangeably versions of each other. One thing to note though is that the Icelandic families tend towards stability and harmony until some character introduces an element of chaos that leads to the resumption of the blood feuds In a similar way, Loki causes chaos in the Norse mythology of the Eddas. One such character is Hildegun, a spiteful woman who marries three different men and often sets them at each other’s throats with her antagonism. There are other Iago-types throughout the whole saga.

There are three main stages of action: the homesteads, the battlefields, and the Althing. The latter is a centralized location at a large rock beside a river where the Icelandic people hold court to settle legal disputes democratically and diplomatically with voters, judges, lawyers, and jury. Every small battle ends with judgment at the Althing; some are settled with money in exchange for corpses, other legal consequences are neutralized, canceling each other out when a life is taken for a life. After the Althing, everybody returns home and goes back to living as usual until the feud begins again.

The homesteads are where people conduct their lives, mostly involving farming and planning for marriages and future battles. Ambushes on or near the homesteads usually reignite the fighting. The people don’t do much for fun at home. One passage describes a recreational horse fight in which Gunnar’s prize stallion gets its eye gouged out so that the horse has to be euthanized.

Of course, it is the battlefields where all the important action takes place. The violence isn’t any more pleasant the aforementioned horse fight. There are no punches pulled in the descriptions when the Icelandic posse comitatuses gather to kill. Legs are lobbed off, heads get severed, bodies get eviscerated and left in piles of blood, guts, and gore. The descriptions are not quite as graphic as those in The Iliad, but anybody with an ounce of morbid imagination will clearly see what is going on. In one crucial scene, an entire family gets roasted to death when marauders burn their house to the ground. The lack of empathy in this saga makes the Icelandic people look like an entire society of psychopaths, caught in an unrelentingly cycle like Sisyphus but with far more brutality.

As was mentioned before, the anonymous author(s) of Njal’s Saga offers no commentary or explanation as to what any of this means. With a bit of deductive reasoning, you might find a few things to take away on your own if you make the effort. One is that respect for law and government, however evasive those institutions might be, are necessary to prevent a society from self-destruction. Without the Althing to even out scores in a rational and civilized manner, medieval Icelandic society could very well have engaged in never-ending warfare until everybody was dead. As ineffective as Icelandic law might have been, at least it put some temporary brakes on the blood feuds. Another subtle message you might get is that absolute loyalty to blood and soil can lead to little more than death when taken to an extreme. If the cycle of retaliatory killings continues on for too long, no one will be left in the end and, by that standard, honor makes life absurd if it is taken as the ultimate and only virtue. Honor can be ridiculous anyways since it means that petty jealousy, spitefulness, or even name calling can result in skirmishes that end with a pile of cadavers waiting to be eaten by vultures and wild dogs. On the same note, Njal prophesied that Gunnar would die if he did not leave his homestead, but Gunnar was unable to force himself to move away because he loved his family and home so much. The result was that the prophecy came true and he got killed. He would have survived to old age if he had not been so stubbornly loyal. Finally, in terms of this text, Christianity did nothing to make the Icelandic people improve their lives. When the missionaries bring Christianity to the island, everybody is forced by law to convert, but then they continue on slaughtering each other as if nothing had actually happened. If anything, the religion makes them even more inhumane because they believe that praying in church makes them superior to the Pagans which further justifies their belief that they have a right to kill their “inferiors”; God will forgive them for any wickedness so they might as well just keep up the bloodshed. The Christians certainly aren’t any more moral than before their conversion since they learn absolutely nothing about theology anyways. They just pray their guilt away and continue living like barbarians. This, by no means, can be taken as a full evaluation of how Christianity effected Iceland since Njal’s Saga is a story and was never intended to be a thorough examination of that particular historical advent.

Njal’s Saga is written with sparse language in a no-fills register. The language is economical to an exreme. This makes it highly accessible, but if you are not used to reading long passages with brief sentences, it takes some getting used to at first. On the sentence-length and descriptiveness spectrum, it is much closer to the Hemingway end than it is to Joyce at the other extreme. The biggest problem with the book is its repetition. The same cycle of life on the homestead being disrupted, leading to bloody warfare with the conflict resolving itself at the Althing is repeated from beginning to end. Ther are only minor variations in detail from battle to battle. If the story were any longer, reading more than half of it would be a waste of time.

Reading Njal’s Saga is a lot like following a thread in Celtic knotwork in which you can find no beginning and no end, repeating itself eternally like the Liffey in Finnegans Wake, if you have what it takes to find any sense in that novel. The medieval Icelandic people fight blood feuds as if that is all they ever did and it is all they ever will do. With temporal and historical distance, it is obvious that isn’t true, but you can get the sense that is how it felt to live in that time and place. Njal’s Saga is an interesting read despite its repetition and if you approach it as a reader the way an Icelandic warrior approached combat, with fierce determination, strength, alertness, and a sense of being loyal enough to see it through to the end, you can get a valuable literary experience out of it. With a little luck, you probably won’t get killed at the end either.


 

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

Vintage Paperback About How to Get High


A Child's Garden of Grass:

The Official Handbook for Marijuana Users

by Jack S. Margolis & Richard Clorfene

Pocket Books, 1974

mass market paperback w/illustrations

"THE STONE LOWDOWN..." -Time Magazine

"More sincerely helpful information about buying, growing, cleaning, smoking, and eating grass than is available in nearly all the other books slammed together in the past three years - perfect." - Rolling Stone

"A HIT...THE SLICKEST AND SUNNIEST EXPRESSION OF THE POT GENERATION. AN ADORABLE BOOK." -New York Post

(copied from back cover)




 

Book Analysis & Review: Keeper Of the Children

Keeper Of the Children by William H. Hallahan Quite often, horror writers are sensitive to the currents of anxiety that flow throughout a so...