Short Story Review: DeLillo in the New Yorker

"Midnight in Dostoevsky" by Don DeLillo, in the November 30, 2009, New Yorker

Maybe it's me. I've been pretty task-driven lately. That means no real pleasure reading. This makes reading short stories a little difficult. The brevity is helpful, but without a purpose, without resolution, I'm hard-pressed to come away with anything from them.

This is the case with Don DeLillo's short story "Midnight in Dostoevsky" that appeared in the New Yorker. A sentence from the final paragraph sums it up: "I wondered what it was that had caused this thing to happen."

I really enjoyed DeLillo's White Noise, and I think that makes me more inclined to like his work. This was certainly one of the reasons I took the time to read this story. As good as the writing was, I came away disappointed.

The story follows a pair of eccentric college students in cold Midwestern town. They think they know everything, even when they know that they don't. The imagine the the life of a distracted logic professor and they make up the life of an old man they pass on the street. The central character talks to a female student who, it turns out, talks just like him and then disappears from the story. And in the end there is a bit of pointless violence that comes out of nowhere, serves no purpose and leaves us hanging.

Surely DeLillo could place any story he wants in the New Yorker. And I doubt if the editors are going to criticize much. Of course there is good writing here:

I knew where my father was--in Beijing, trying to wedge his securities firm into the Chinese century.

At the library, I devoured about a hundred pages a setting, small cramped type.

He shaves, we thought. He cuts himself and says shit. He wads up a sheet of toilet paper and holds it to his cut. Then he leans into the mirror, seeing himself clearly for the first time in years. Ilgauskas, he thinks.

I just was hoping for a little more from DeLillo in the New Yorker. But, then again, maybe it's me.

Book Review: Lust

Lust by Susan Minot

The topic, very cleary, of all of these stories is relationships, or more specifically the complications of emotions involved when we get involved. Minot's characters often expect too much, even when they expect nothing, and are left feeling vacant and wasted. The eagerness with which the women in these stories would search out any sort of love is so earnest and sad. The stories, often told in first person, reminded me in the end of the stories of Anna Kavan. They are that good. Though I don't know it for sure, I would find it hard to belive that Minot didn't at some point read Kavan. The stories are brief and sharp. Languishing in the misery that appears inevitable here would be unendurable, but Minot gets us there, hits us quickly, and moves on. I read these stories in a single evening and it seemed to me to be the perfect way to digest these terrific stories.

Surefire Plot Generator

"Put your left hand on the table. Put your right hand in the air. If you stay that way long enough, you'll get a plot." - Margaret Atwood

Work Mode to Writing Mode

Sometimes the go-go-go gets to me.

I am eager to get ahead at work, at school, to learn everything I can, to get better. Yesterday, I was reading Harvard Business Review, CFO Magazine, Business Week, and the Wall Street Journal. All in an effort to learn what I can learn. But there in the Journal was an interview with Alice Munro.

There was a physical click in my head, a switch turned from one mode to another, and I was thinking about writing. Not just the outcome, but the process. And it made me eager to write again. To be creating. The feeling didn't argue against the other part of my life, but it was a reminder of a calling. Something inside me is deeply linked to that process of writing. Of course that part of me has been neglected. I've had the pleasure of writing papers. There is always that pleasure in stringing words together, in getting the right tone, the right emphasis. But all other forms of writing have been neglected.

So, I may be in the need of a break, but I'm also eager to get back to work.

Book Review: All the Pretty Horses

All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

McCarthy really knows what he's doing. Disregards the rules and it all works. This is the fifth book I've read by him and I'm always amazed. And each book stands alone. This one is reminiscent of Blood Meridian and even No Country for Old Men because of the wandering over dry landscapes. But where Blood Meridan at times seemed pointless, John Grady Cole is driven. And he drives the reader on. I usually don't go for books with settings that are too unfamiliar. I will usually get lost trying to imagine things I've never seen, or I get lost because the writer assumes the reader has a basic understanding of the setting. While McCarthy uses names for plants and landscapes that I don't know, the settings are so much a part of the mood and the tone of the text that I don't feel like I've missed a thing. If anything, I'm only more inspired now to go see the places he has described.

Tragedy always seems to be around the corner in McCarthy's novels, but even though I know it is coming, I am always appropriately shocked. I don't think this novel has the same spark as Suttree, but everything in All the Pretty Horses has a purpose, is firmly grounded in a sense of justice. It may not be a justice we're familiar with, but everything feels well anchored.

Love is not a often a subject in McCarthy's novels, but here it is a key element and handled with deft and tact. No one would accuse the author of sentimentality, but the reader does not doubt that the emotions being described are not true.

Obviously, I should have read this book many ages ago. And the pleasure I had in reading the novel moves up McCarthy's other novels on my reading list.

Summer Reading Book Reviews to Come

As crazy as things have been over the summer and this fall, I have managed to read a slew of books. And I promise that reviews--as brief as they're liable to be--are coming. Here is the list:

All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy
Lust by Susan Minot
The Easter Parade by Richard Yates
Hunger by Knut Hamsun
The Death of Sweet Mister by Daniel Woodrell
Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson
Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles
No One Belongs Here More than You by Miranda July
Child of God by Cormac McCarthy
The Moviegoer by Walker Percy

BNSF and Warren Buffet: Does it mean anything?

After the announcement this week that Warren Buffet was going to buy out the remaining bit of Burlington Northern Santa Fe that he didn't already own seemed to spark some debate about what it should mean. I suggest that we might not want to read too much into it.

Buffet deserves a huge amount of deference because of his ability to make money, to make smart choices, to see the fundamentals of the fundamentals, but it might not always be a good idea to think that the common investor, or even an economist, should mimic his actions.

A GDP play was how most people seemed to read it this week. The idea is that as the economy cranks back up so will the fortunes of BNSF. There is truth in it. When cargo falls away to nothing there is nowhere to go but up.

An oil-price play is another way to take it. If the price of a barrel continues to climb, and as the dollar falls, fuel prices will escalate. Trucking becomes increasingly inefficient and rail begins to make a lot more sense for moving freight around this country.

The problem with both of these notions is that any advantage rail has is strictly near-term. Until there is significant investment in the rail infrastructure, until we can actually move more trains and more freight, the growth potential is limited. Expansion of the US rail lines is absolutely necessary. Passenger rail is limited by the constraints on freight rail. When they compete for the same space on the same set of tracks, we are losing some potential in both.

Unless Buffet knows something more about real infrastructure investment, the chances of making huge sums of money in his purchase of BNSF seems unlikely. He'll make some money in the recovery, and he'll make some money as the price of fuel climbs, but it is unlikely that he bought it for any of these reasons.

The two reasons Buffet gave are the more likely reasons than any of the speculative motives: he is always willing to buy more of anything he is invested in---and his father never bought him a toy train when he was a child