Back to Harper Lee & Truman Capote!

I know I blogged very recently about Truman Capote, his "nonfiction novel" classic In Cold Blood, and the two movies, both released in 2006, which told the story of those times in Capote's life.

The direction of my reading often follows the path of my unanswered questions. Viewing the movie Infamous and remembering the movie Capote, has once again beckoned me to follow in the footsteps of Capote and Nelle Harper Lee back to Kansas, to the time of their research into the Clutter Family murders in 1959.


On this long Memorial Day Weekend, I've been captivated by Charles Shields's biography, Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee. Before I saw the movie Capote, I never connected him with Harper Lee. And even after seeing the film I thought they were just writer friends who became acquainted in New York City, their mutual home. Boy, am I dumb.

As it turns out, Harper Lee, the author of the #1 classic of mid-20th-century American literature, To Kill a Mockingbird, grew up with Truman Capote as her next-door neighbor in Monroeville, Alabama! They became writers together the day that Nelle's father gave them both a typewriter, when they were about eight or nine years old.

In any case, I dug up the bio Mockingbird at Crandall Library because I have always had many, many questions about Harper Lee. Why did she never write another book? How much of To Kill a Mockingbird was fiction, and how much was based on fact? Why did she sacrifice her own writing time and energy to help Truman with his project and why did he never give her the credit she was due?


I'm getting the answers to these questions, and no one I know is interested in talking with me about it. Oh, dear. How I do pity myself that--sometimes there is no one to talk to when these literary headlines come pounding into my brain.

I hope that someday, a really savvy biographer with impeccable research skills ferrets out what happened to Truman Capote after he wrote In Cold Blood. It's a literary mystery. The movie Capote tries to answer the question, suggesting it was a crisis of conscience that Truman failed and could never get over, but that's conjecture, though I believe that explanation was part of what haunted him for the rest of his life. I'm sure there's more to it--I can feel it in my bones.

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much

What an arresting title! When I discovered Allison Hoover Bartlett's book on one of the "Best Books of 2009" lists, I immediately entered it in my "WannaRead" file on my computer.

I would describe The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and a World of Literary Obsession as a thoroughly delightful, yet cautionary romp through the world of rare books.

I've always enjoyed reading about rare book collectors and dealers. Although I own hundreds of books, less than a handful would be considered "rare" by book dealers. And that's fine with me.

That said, I do, however, have a fascination for books that reveal the mysterious and eccentric world that rare book aficionados inhabit. Another universe, indeed!

Bartlett provides a marvelous travelogue of her journey to this world and describes how it operates and its players. In addition to the background, she focuses on the story of one elusive book thief, John Gilkey, including his methods, his history, and the fact that despite multiple imprisonments, he's unrepentent and out there continuing his "lifestyle" today.

A Moody End of May

Caution to my fellow bibliophiles: This post is not about books and is not a fun topic. As soon as I publish this, I'm going to write the books entry I meant to write yesterday.

I must begin this post by saying that I'm sorrier than I can be about the billions of gallons of oil spilling into the Gulf of Mexico. That region will never be the same again. It's a tragedy of such massive proportions that no one realizes yet just how catastrophic it is. And I weep over it. And I weep for the people who live there and who love their land and sea and wildlife the way I do "my" Adirondack mountains, forests, lakes, and animals.

What a horror it is to realize that this is happening because we're digging much, much deeper in the oceans than we have the technology to manage--all because we're running out of oil. Who knew that the companies drilling the oil had gone way beyond their depth?

I have a saying that I've used for decades to refer to irreversible environmental damage: "The canary died a long time ago." Of course, I'm referring to the canaries that coal miners used to bring deep down into the mines with them to warn them of dangerous levels of carbon monoxide and methane. So, what I mean by this saying is that the planet Earth's canary has been dead for years and years. We're a dying planet. One can only hope to save parts of it, as much as we can.

Armchair Book Expo America

It was 93 degrees yesterday in this northern mountain world and it set a record. In fact, it's never been this hot in any month during our five years here.

By not posting yesterday, my pledge to Armchair BEA went down the proverbial drain. At least I have a good excuse! (No, not the heat, silly. Scroll down to the bottom of this entry.)


Today's BEA book report: The Anthropology of an American Girl by Hilary Thayer Hamann. This novel is getting rave reviews all over. And I'm very excited for Hamann. She self-published the book years ago via Vernacular Press, a firm she co-owned with her ex-husband. I tried to read the book in its original format and found it inaccessible at times. So, I'm extremely delighted to report that she's completely revised it, put loads of work into it, and evidentlyl, she's now got a bestseller-to-be in her hands. Can't wait to see a copy!

My excuse for copping out yesterday: I hurt my back and the pain precluded the sane writing of a blog entry yesterday. I injured it bushwhacking down Eleventh Mountain squeezing and contorting my body through narrow ledge passages. I shouldn't be surprised. I come from a family of bad backs on both sides and I consider myself *extremely* fortunate to have survived this long without a major back event. It's a miracle, really.

The good news: My problem is totally fixable. And I have an excellent chiropractor. But for the first time in my life, a medical practitioner actually told me I need to take it easy. This amazed me! No doctor has ever told me to do that.

Laying back isn't so hard; the big problem is it's very hard to read books with a bad back. No comfy chair or bed is comfy. I would have preferred a severe cold. But doctors never tell you to take it easy with a bad cold, or with pneumonia, for that matter.

BEA: Library Journal's "Hot" Galley for September

Blogger has not done this to me in years. Can you believe it? It ate my entire post about the new book by Daphne Kalotay, whose debut novel Russian Winter will be out early this fall. It's being translated into 16 languages and I am definitely going to buy a first edition.

This post would have been longer and more detailed, but I lost it all in that Blogger Wipeout. More tomorrow!

The Gathering Night

Margaret Elphinstone, the Scottish writer, kept me spellbound with her novel The Gathering Night, which I read for the Scottish Literature Challenge. I paid a lot for the paperback and when I opened the book, I realized why. It's not published in the U.S. but in Canada.

In any event, the read was well worth it. Elphinstone cast a spell over me. She creates a vibrant world during the time of Mesolithic Scotland, back when the country's inhabitants lived close to the sea and were hunter-gatherers living in tribal clans. What I loved most about her rendering was the society of the Auk people and how they lived so closely, so in tune, to every living and non-living thing in the natural world.

Now, as I walk in the woods around me, I find myself spiritually in tune with Haizea, Amets, Kemen, and Nekane, a few of the main characters. The Animal Spirits. The Grandmother Mountain spirits. The whole concept of the Go-Between, who were very special people that traveled between the spirit world and the world of the living.

I also enjoyed the intricate details of the Auk People's hunting and food gathering. It seems such a good life in Elphinstone's telling that one wonders why people ever settled down to one place and took up agriculture. Supposedly, according to historians, it was a more stable and secure lifestyle, but I don't think it was, not really. Your thoughts?

Stieg Larsson Bio/Article

First, a News Flash!
A lengthy article/bio of Stieg Larsson is available on The New York Times website if you're a registered user. If you're not, this article is a great reason to sign up. The article is being published in Sunday's New York Times Magazine, but, of course, it's online now, all in preparation for the release of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.

Reading Problems on Board:
Ever since I started looking for a part-time job, during the first week of May, my reading has gone to hell.

In the mornings, I sit on the couch with a cup of coffee. That's normal. But instead of reading, I think. That's not normal. In fact, I find it worrying that I can think like this for at least 30-45 minutes. I strategize my job search tasks.

I demand of myself that I change this behavior. I can think at other times, not during my reading time. Sunday morning on couch, with book in hand, and coffee in the other, and READ!

Will Truman Capote Wake Me Up?

I'm posting because it's high time I did, but I have absolutely nothing to say this afternoon. I've had two cups of darjeeling and I can't stop yawning. Oh, help!

Ken and I are hopping out in the next half-hour for The Black Mountain's Friday Night Fish Fry. When we get home, we're going to watch the film Infamous, about Truman Capote and his fascination with the Kansas murder case that prompted him to write his classic "nonfiction novel" In Cold Blood.

Much more tomorrow, with links, I promise!

About "Beach Reads"

Every spring the publishing industry goes on a binge, marketing all the "beach reads" for the summer book market. Now tell me, how many Americans actually spend time at a beach in the summer, let alone read there?

I've had summers where I've spent time reading on beaches. I'll acknowledge that and I loved doing it. I spent my three high-school summers babysitting for a family who owned a beach house on Nantucket Sound, on Cape Cod, and boy, did I ever read my way through those summers!

These days, the closest I come to beach reading is while floating in my Hornbeck boat on an Adirondack lake.

I must confess I like to read at least one Elin Hilderbrand novel in the summertime. Light as her books may be, I enjoy strolling on the Nantucket Island beaches with her characters.

I've stashed a copy of Barefoot on my summer reading shelf.