I followed Chris Moore’s wonderful, Razzmatazz, and with this Baldacci, a sequel to an earlier “Archer” novel. Follows that dime-store detective, potboiler romance, echo from a half a century back? Maybe more?
“I don’t like wannabe authoritarians who lie in order to destroy people who disagree with them.” Page 304.
But only an echo. Addictive reading, with stylized hard-boiled detective fiction.
“6:7 Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”
For many years, between Bouldin Creek and Barton Creek, the confluence entering Town Lake (Colorado River through downtown Austin), there was a huge cypress tree, like the roots on that giant, gnarled and knotted, exposed at low tide.
Me? I’m mired in my upbringing and training, while arguably well-seasoned by too many seasons in old Austin, still, there is that thin veneer of bad practices. Just being honest; I am a product of white male privilege. May not agree, but must acknowledge those roots.
Part of my familial lineage anchors in old East Austin, like, just on the other side of the old airport, and those roots run deep. Memories, faded hopes and desires, the incipient works of this career, all folded into a mix. Half-baked?
In my “day job,” a career cemented into place by those years along the shores of the river? There’s a certain ineffable element I liked.
I found it again at Austin Creative Reuse.
What the place does, they recycle old crafts material, creative materials, and blank canvases. Or just about anything that falls into the “creative” category.
It’s a tremendous resource for antique paper, disparate craft elements, and outdated tools. Snippets of cloths, fragments and remnants of patterns, threads and bobbins, buttons, and more.
So much more.
I browsed for half an hour, spent maybe two dollars, and successfully didn’t buy back any donated materials. But it was the people, the volunteers especially, but the patrons, too. That essence of the cooperative, out-of-the-box thinking, the creative impulse as a cogent theme.
“What are you looking for?”
Inspiration. It’s everywhere.
Inside an almost blank diary, one page had a message scrawled, “Her friend got bullied on the first day of school. They plot revenge.”
Inspiration, indeed.
Donate — reuse — recycle.
A special nod to the tireless staff who work miracles everyday.
Help support the arts in Austin.
And on to San Antonio? Spare Parts.
In case it wasn’t clear?
astrofish.net — minors being served must be accompanied by an adult or guardian.
Additionally?
astrofish.net — accompanied minors must be supervised at all times.
In the event that the terms are not clear, it is spelled out in detail in the Terms and Conditions, the fineprint.
Accessing any of the sites means agreement to all terms, and any subsequent revisions.
“Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?”
Please support public libraries.
#shakespeare
#horoscope
“A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.”
Hamlet (4.3)
#shakespeare
#hamlet
Couple of words to look up, “pastiche,” “homage,” and “satire.” Folded into the mix? “Magical Realism.”
I was looking for the clue, and I think I found. I’ve long maintained that the more recent generations are best served to look back at the work of the previous outlaws, in-laws, and scofflaws — namely, the Beat Generation. Literature, poetry, and art.
While it’s been more than a decade, I think since I last listened to Allen Ginsberg read his epic, “Howl,” the delivery, the cadence, the lyrical nature in its structure, wording? I finally realized, maybe a hundred pages into this Christopher Moore novel what the connection was. It’s the cadence, patter, rhythmical motion of the words.
Steeped deeply in noire, potboiler, dime-store detective novels, with an attempt at the language of the historical era, if not factually true, the verisimilitude holds up well.
I was reading a library copy on my tablet, before I hiked off to get a real copy at the bookstore, and late at night? The cadence, and rhythm of the fictional dialogue, I finally grasped what it was, that Beat Generation’s beat.
Except, that the author himself is too young to have been there, at the time. Doesn’t stop the influence.
Good, good book. Makes me want to reread its prequel, Noir.