The Passage, by Justin Cronin

I. Loved. This. Book. It’s something of a cross between Cormac McCarthy and Stephen King.  It’s referred to as a “vampire” book, but I didn’t notice an actual vampire in the book anywhere.  It’s a perfectly told story of a military science experiment gone horribly wrong, which leads to a post-apocalyptic world where humans are on the run.  What makes this book stand out from a lot of action-packed  stories on similar topics is that the characters are so richly developed and, for the most part, not out of central casting.   How does Cronin manage to have a wildly intricate plot, lots of action, and still spend time developing a LARGE cast of characters?  Easy — 784 pages.  It’s a long book, but I flew through it.   When I heard they were making a movie out of it, I was a little put off, because one of the great things about the book is the world that Cronin builds in your mind, and I don’t think anyone else’s vision of the world, let alone one captured in a movie, will live up to my vision.  But then I heard that the movies is being directed by Matt Reeves, who directed “Cloverfield,” a really unique film.  Ridley Scott is producing, so it should be good.  No word on when it will be released, but I suspect you have time to read the book.  Do it.

World War Z:  An Oral History of the Zombie War, by Max Brooks

A totally fresh take on zombie apocalypse stories.  The story is told through a hundred or so interviews with survivors, each one forming a separate chapter.   Everyone shares a part of their experience in the war against the Zombies, telling the story with the occasional prompt from the “interviewer.”   The interviewees range from war profiteers; military personnel from the U.S., South Africa, Israel, and elsewhere; militia from various countries; Chinese submarine commanders; the soldiers who trained the zombie-sniffing dogs; pilots of rescue helicopters; deep-sea divers who kill zombies at the bottom of the ocean; you get the idea.  Lots of detail, lots of perspective.

While I enjoyed reading the book and appreciated Brooks’ original story-telling concept (at least for this genre), the structure of the book made me less engaged than I would have been if the story had been told in more traditional linear fashion with true protagonists.  It was difficult to connect with the characters, since most only appeared for 10 or so pages, then were never heard from again.  I found myself reading a few chapters at a time, but not feeling like I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.   Since the characters are all giving interviews after the war, you know they all have survived, so there isn’t a whole lot of drama to the book, except within some of the little anecdotes.  It reminded me of the interviews they show of holocaust survivors when you finish touring the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC.  One survivor after the next, describing unspeakable things.

So, I liked it a lot, but it’s not a book that makes any kind of emotional connection.   It read like a bunch of really (really) interesting interviews, but there was a distance between reader and character that I could not get past.

Remarkably, it’s being made into a movie starring Brad Pitt.  It will be really interesting to see how the director (Monster’s Ball, Kite Runner) decides to tell the story.  I worry that the book is way to big (heck, it takes place in about 100 different places) to fit into a movie, but I guess that’s why there’s an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay.

A Discovery of Witches, by Deborah Harkness

I saw this book on Amazon’s “Best Books of Some Month” list, scanned the summary, which suggested it was about witches fighting vampires, and figured it must be good.  I got about a third of the way into it, and I thought to my self, “This witch sure does spend a lot of time thinking about her feelings.”   And then half-way through, I thought, “This witch spends a lot of time talking about how the vampire makes her feel inside.”  I decided to go back to Amazon and see how this book is categorized.  Whoops.  It’s in “Books > Romance > Vampires.”  Now, if was in “Books > Vampires > Romance,” that might be OK, but it was definitely Romance first, Vampire second.  I’m going to just end the review here, lest I embarrass myself any further.

For those of you who don’t have it, HBO Go is a website/app where you can watch, usually in HD, just about any HBO series ever, HBO specials, and most movies currently featured on HBO.  It’s free for anyone who subscribes to HBO, and you can get up to 6 log-ins per account, so everyone in the family can watch something different on HBO Go at the same time (assuming you each have an iPad, iPhone, computer, or other suitable replacement for what we used to call “interacting with live people” (aka, being human).

Why is it great?  Because you can watch HBO stuff anywhere.  No more having to sit in front of that antiquated 60-inch LED TV; now I can watch TV on a little 10-inch screen — on the toilet!  while driving!  during my daughters’ dance recital!  Oh happy day!

And for those of you thinking, “Yeah, but I can do all that with [Netflix, Amazon Unbox, YouTube, Crackle, etc.],” here is the difference.  HBO Go has stuff worth watching.  I am currently working my way through the Wire, a show I never watched when it was on, but knew that some day I needed to.  I also caught this weeks episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and True Blood.  No need to be home on Sunday night, and no need to worry about setting my Tivo. (Sad story here: since relocating my family from our nice big house to our nice tiny condo, Tivo has not been unpacked, and I haven’t really missed him.)  No need to go to Blockbuster (if there are any left), and no need to wait for a new DVD to arrive in the mail.  I can watch a whole season in one night if I want to.

In fact, a friend of mind told me that she watched the entire Sex in the City series in one week on HBO Go.  Personally, I’d rather eat glass than have to watch that crap, but to each her own [crap].

My fear is that HBO Go is not going to be free forever, but I’ll worry about that later.  For now, I am enjoying the idea of going back and watching Oz from the beginning, maybe watching Generation Kill, Treme, and Deadwood.

And now, a word about The Wire.  Ever since it first aired, friends have told me I must watch it, that it’s the greatest show ever.  Having watched 3.5 of the 5 seasons, I can attest to its quality.  It’s well written, feels authentic (I can only assume this, as I have never been nor known a Baltimore drug dealer or police officer), and the plot lines are interesting.   The acting is top-notch, although I do wonder why I’ve not seen any of these actors in anything since they finished The Wire.  But, it is not the greatest show ever.  It’s not even the best HBO Drama ever (the Sopranos), or even the second best HBO Drama ever (Six Feet Under).  And it definitely isn’t the best cops versus drug gangs show ever (The Shield).  However, it is definitely the best show set in Baltimore ever (Sorry, “Homicide: Life on the Street”).

Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, by Helen Simonson.  Major Pettigrew is retired British military, widowed, and quietly enjoying his golden years in a small English village.  His family is part of the landed gentry in the village, and he does the things an English gentleman is supposed to do:  play golf at the stuffy country club, shoot guns, and have tea.  So you can imagine the stir created when Pettigrew befriends the widowed Indian woman who runs the village grocery.  The book is funny, in the smart English kind of way, particularly the interactions between Pettigrew, his social-climbing London-banker son, and the son’s high-fashion American girlfriend.

The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls.  I know, I’m a few years late on this one, but I wasn’t reading back then.  It’s a memoir that focuses on growing up poor, on the fringes of society, with just enough comedy to make the tragedy bearable.  An alcoholic father, an aspiring-artist mother, and four little kids who don’t know how bad they have it.  They sleep in cardboard boxes, go days without food, and regularly sleep in their car.  But children are resilient, and, apparently, if you teach them right from wrong, respect for people, and don’t let them starve to death, that’s good enough.

The Game, by Neil Strauss.  This one also is a few years old, but a friend suggested I’d like it.  It’s an inside look at the formerly-underground community of pick-up artists (PUAs).  They memorize “patterns” of lines to use to pick up girls, they study evolution, psychology, hypnotism, magic, and anything else they can use to charm girls out of their pants.  These guys are nerds, for the most part, but they look at picking up women the same way they look at chess or Worlds of Warcraft– with study, practice, and hard work, anyone can be good at it.  And they are.  Our narrator is Neil Strauss, a journalist who joins their community to learn to be a PUA — not to write about it — and becomes one of the best PUAs in the world.  It’s worth reading just for the chapter when Strauss meets Tom Cruis; or when one of his buddies picks up Paris Hilton.   I enjoyed it, although I wish Strauss would have spent a little more time talking about whether what they do is morally defensible.  Is hypnotizing a chick that different from slipping a rufie in her drink?

One notable book that I don’t recommend is Freedom: A Novel, but Jonathan Franzen.  It’s not a bad book, but it’s a long slog through the mucky psychology of normal suburbanites.  The main characters are a wife who doesn’t really love her husband, the guy she wishes she had married, her cuckolded husband who is obsessed with conservationism, and their messed-up kids.  There’s nothing extraordinary about the plot.  It’s just a deep, deep dive into the thoughts and emotions of people.  Franzen is really good at this, but it didn’t make for the most exciting book, in my opinion.

Being a father is hard.  Just like being a soccer mom is hard.  Just ask the dads in these books I recently read:

Father of the Rain is a family melodrama spanning 40-years in a blue-blooded New England Family, told in three parts.  We first meet our narrator, Daley, when she is 11 and her parents are divorcing.  She is the oft-mentioned “child caught in the middle”, but she manages to avoid becoming a cliche thanks to author Lily King’s deft skill at psychological character development.  In part 2, Daley is post-grad, about to start on her career and family, when she must respond to a crisis in the family she has barely known for 10 years.  The final phase of the book is years later, when Daley must wrestle with her father’s ultimate ending, and reconcile the tortured relationship she had with him.  Her father — a racist, alcoholic, snobby prick — is the most interesting and humorous character in what is, at sometimes overlapping times, a very funny and very sad story.  King does a great job of making it clear what a bad father he is without demonizing him completely.  It’s a fine line that she walks remarkably well.  If you like family dramas, stories about divorce, or hail from a New England shore town, pick it up

Shit My Dad Says is a collection of quotes and anecdotes from author Justin Halpern’s dad.  It’s really funny, even if you have a little trouble believing that someone’s dad actually says things like:

On my response to having my tires slashed: “Oh, don’t go to the god-damned cops.  They’re busy with real shit. I don’t want my tax dollars going to figuring out who thinks you’re an asshole.”

On my trip to Europe: “I know you think you’re going to get all kinds of laid.  It’s not a magic place, it’s the same as here.  Don’t be stupid.”

On my interest in smoking cigars: “You’re not a cigar guy…well, the first reason that jumps out at me is that you’re holding it like you’re jerking off a mouse.”

On showering with regularity: “You’re ten years old now.  You have to take a shower every day…I don’t give a shit if you hate it.  People hate smelly fuckers.  I will not have a smelly fucker for a son.”

You get the idea.  Great gift for your dad or son.

The Lonely Polygamist is basically what happens if you cross Big Love with Married…With Children, then sprinkle in a little American Beauty, only it doesn’t really work for me.  It’s the long (602 pp), sprawling tale of Golden Richards, from his childhood with a depressed mother and absent father to his adult life as the patriarch of a 4-wife, 30-some children family.  You are probably starting to get the obvious iron of the title.   Yes, he’s lonely. Miserable, in fact, which leads him down a path to adultery, crime, and some other nastiness.  If you are fascinated by the polygamist lifestyle, you might enjoy this book, but it’s not a gripping page-turner.

It’s been a busy summer.   I managed to injure myself in early May, necessitating about 12 weeks of twice-a-week physical therapy.  I started a vegetable garden using Earthboxes.  They are awesome — highly recommend them if you want to grow your own herbs and small veggies (I’ve got two cute little Japanese eggplants on the vine right now).  Following the wife’s successful triathlon debut, I bought a road bike and have started biking a couple times a week.  I found time to watch True Blood and Rescue Me (both awesome), discovered Louie (proving once again that FX has the best shows on TV), and survived another mindless season of Entourage thanks mainly to the good performance turned in by Sasha Grey’s breasts.

Read some good books since my last poss, which I will probably post about separately.   Highlights include Sh*t My Dad Says and Father of the Rain.   In the middle of Jonathan Franzen’s new one, Freedom.  It’s a long slog, and we’ll see if the payoff is worth it.

Anyway, Broccoli Rob is back.  Stay tuned for more mediocre content to barely distract you from your job.

Market. In the W hotel in Buckhead.  Great meal.  Mostly New American cuisine with a little Asian influence mixed in.  I had some lamb chops that were ridiculously.   I could have gnawed on those bones for days.  The wife made me throw them out when we got home.  Dinner for two will run around $100.

Pacci. In the Hotel Palomar in Midtown.  Specializing in meats, with a little fish and poultry mixed in.  The name is a reference to their signature dish, carpaccio.  We had the kobe beef carpaccio, which was quite good.  The braised short rib was so rich I could feel my blood thicken and I think I peed gravy later that night.   Not cheap.   Dinner for two will be about $120.

Spice Market. In the W hotel in midtown.  It’s definitely an Asian-type place, but it was hard to discern whether it was Thai, Japanese, or Indian.   The food wasn’t bad, but I wouldn’t rush back.

RiRa Irish Pub. I’ve hit this new Midtown joint several times for lunch (and once for breakfast during a U.S. soccer match that shall never again be mentioned).  It’s a big place that tries to be authentic Irish, and despite my cynicism, it does actually have a more authentic feel to it than, say, Fado.  Of course, that’s like saying that P.F. Chang’s is more authentic than Giant Panda.  If you need lunch in Midtown, it’s a good option.

Platinum Blue Sushi. Give this place (across from Perimeter Mall) a miss.  Alon’s is next door and is always going to be a better option.

Recipe for a thriller:

Take one part Stephen King, one part Leon Uris, one part Michael Crichton.   Add in some Alien v. Predator and some Road Warrior.  Mix.  Spread over 800 pages.   Read.

The Passage, by Justin Cronin is a fantastic read.  It’s a long, complex story spanning 100 years, with a large cast of characters, but here’s the gist:  In the South American jungle, US Special Forces discover a virus that has the potential to grant superhuman strength and everlasting life.  Seeing it’s potential as a “superweapon”, the army tries to develop this virus into something useful by exposing 12 subjects, who happen to be death row inmates.  Then things go wrong, and the virus creates a race of vampire-like half-human killing machines known as “virals.”   Quickly, most of North America is wiped out.  But there are a few human survivors, holed up on a California mountaintop, where they have existed for nearly 100 years.  Then a mysterious young girl appears at the gate to their stronghold, and they set off on a path to save humanity.

Sounds like absurd sci-fi/fantasy crap, right?  I assure you, it’s not.  It’s an extremely well-written story featuring numerous well-developed characters that you will actually care about.  On one level it’s man v. alien, but on another level it’s a story about hope and despair, love and grief, and what it means to really live.  And there’s lots of good fighting too.

Don’t let the book’s heft scare you off.  Once you get going, you will not be able to put it down.

Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese

Verghese is an Indian doctor/journalist/novelist who, not surprisingly, writes about health and medicine most of the time.  Cutting for Stone, however, is a fictional account retrospectively told by Marion Stone, a now-40-something doctor.  Most of the book tells of Stone’s childhood and maturation while living in Ethiopia with his adoptive parents, two Indian doctors working in an Ethiopian mission hospital.  Stone also has a twin brother, Shiva.  The story is engrossing and, at times, gut-wrenching.  As you can imagine, growing up in an impoverished hospital in an impoverished African country isn’t all ice cream trucks and swimming pools.  And when Stone is forced to flee Ethiopia and try to make his way as a medical student in New York City, things get no easier.  Add in a plot line about efforts to reconnect with the father who abandoned his twins on the day they were born (birthed by a nun who died during childbirth), and you have quite a story.  Highly recommended.

The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets Nest, by Stieg Larsson

One of the reasons I trust Amazon’s editors to select books for me is that last summer they told me to read the first two books in the Lisbeth Salander trilogy.  So I was eagerly anticipating the final installment, though I did not appreciate having to wait for the Kindle edition while others were reading hardcovers imported from the UK, where the book dropped before it did in the U.S.  If you haven’t read these books, go do so.  Right now.  They are wonderful.  It’s just unfathomable to me that a first time novelist could come up with this plot and then deliver it so neatly.  I am genuinely sad that Larsson died before he could write a dozen of these.

Tinkers, by Paul Harding

Every once in a while, I force myself to read some “literature.”  Tinkers is the kind of book that goes on high school reading lists.  It’s no wonder that it just won the Pulitzer for fiction.  The premise is simple: George is on his deathbed, dying of cancer.  He’s lived a full life.  As he slowly fades away, he reflects back on his life, and on that of his father, a tinker.  (A tinker, I learned, is someone who went around rural areas selling various household items like soap, string, dry goods, etc., before there was Walmart, )  The prose is artful and impressive, although the story is a little dry.   It delivers a nice little emotional jab at the end.  It’s a short book , maybe 150 pages, so if you want to read something you can mention the next time you are at an English Department cocktail party, this is a good option.  Otherwise, I wouldn’t rush to read it.

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, by Alan Bradley

A fun little detective story set in mid-20th century Britain.  Our protagonist is 11-year-old Flavia de Luce, a smart, precocious little girl obsessed with chemistry and, in particular, poisons.  It reminded me of the old Encyclopedia Brown series that I read as a kid, only this book is for grown ups (and teenagers).   Well-wrtten, whit nice little details that give you a sense of what is was like to be a kid in rural England 75 or so years ago.  The plot has enough twists and turns to keep most people (including me) guessing.  It made for good pool/beach reading.

For those lucky enough to have never seen a Captivate monitor, just be thankful and know that the Captivate screen delivers “news” to elevator riders.  We riders are the “captive”  audience; the name is a little smarmy for my taste.   The inanity that regularly blooms on the Captivate monitor and its deleterious effect on normal human interaction will have to be the subject of a future post.

On this fine evening last week, the elevator told me, “Today is National Dump the Pump Day.”  Unbeknownst to me, and I suspect to many of you, last Thursday we were all supposed to leave our shiny European and Japanese cars (and trucks, for you too-cool-for-minivan housewives out there) and take public transit to work.

I’m not going to get into whether National Dump the Pump Day was a good idea or not.  I haven’t the energy or the interest.  But, I think I can safely say that if you want to have a “National Day” to promote awareness of anything, it’s probably a good idea to let people know about it.  Now, maybe all you readers (both of you) knew about NDTPD (I made that up — try saying it three times fast), but I had absolutely no idea.

This got me thinking about whether there might be other important (or not so) National Days that I was unwittingly missing out on.  So I went to the most powerful research tool I know — Google — and did some investigating.  What I found was interesting, shocking, disturbing, and a little sad.  I started to panic.  Why?  Because it was June 18 — International Panic Day!   Plus, I had no idea what I was going to do to celebrate World Sauntering Day on June 19.  But I was comforted knowing that June 20 was Ice Cream Soda Day.  Who doesn’t love ice cream sodas?

Apparently, the only requirement for creating a National Day is that you be able to discern the different days of the week.  For some dumb reason, I assumed that to create a National Day, there needed to be some sort of decree on behalf of the Nation.  Not so.  Not at all.  Just ask the American Public Transit Association, who created NDTPD in order to get more people to use public transit.

It does seem that not all National Days are created equal.  Based on my scientific research, some have been around a long time, are not commercially-driven, and have achieved the status of pseudo-holidays.

Indeed, I have missed out on a lot of important National Days.   January 2 was “Run Up The Flagpole And See If Anybody Salutes It Day.”   January 9 was doctor day, AKA Play God Day.   Thank goodness I missed February 9 — Toothache Day — since I’m a proud anti-dentite.

February 23:  International Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day.  Seriously?

April 30:  National Honesty Day.  No lie.

May 4 was National Candied Orange Peel Day.  I didn’t know the Candied Orange Peel lobby was so powerful.

Some of these defy explanation:

July 27:  Take Your Pants For A Walk Day.

July 29: Cheese Sacrifice Purchase Day.   (The day you buy the cheese to put into mousetraps)

Nov. 28:  Make Your Own Head Day.

Apparently you can also have a night: August 8 is National Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbors Porch Night.  (Apparently zucchini grows really fast and people need an excuse to give it to their neighbors.)

In light of my discoveries, I feel compelled to create my own national day to celebrate all the other national days that I didn’t know about when they past.  So, I declare tomorrow, June 22, National National Day Day.  Enjoy.

The Unit is a reference to the Second Reserve Bank Unit for biological material.  The setting is northern Europe, sometime in the not-so-distant future.  Society has “advanced” to a stage where productivity — servicing future generations — is valued above all else.  People who have “value” to future generations —  doctors, teachers, scientists, spouses, and especially parents — are “needed”.  Those who don’t have significant value —  minor artists, librarians, the poor or homeless, and, especially, people who have no spouse or children — are “dispensable”.

If a woman reaches the age of 50, or a man the age of 60, and is dispensable, she or he is moved into the Unit, where they will live out the remainder of their days. There is no more contact with the outside world.  But fear not, because the Unit is a lovely place, where every possible need or desire is met.  The food is great, there are countless activities, free stores to shop in, movies, plays, art galleries, and lots of other dispensable people who make each other feel warm and safe.  For some of the people in the Unit, it is the first time they have ever been part of a community.  The Unit is like the biggest, nicest, retirement community you’ve ever seen.

There’s only one catch.  When you get to the Unit, you have to start participating in medical experiments, research for the betterment of society.  Some of these experiments are relatively humane, like experiments to see what 4 hours of exercise per day does to the body, but some are pretty nasty, like taking an experimental anti-depressant that slowly rots your brain.  And, if the experiments aren’t bad enough, you also have to regularly donate parts of your body.  At first it’s things you don’t need, like a kidney, a piece of your liver, one cornea, some skin, etc.  But ultimately, everyone must make their “final donation”  – heart and lungs.  People in the Unit disappear every day.  ”Generations” in the Unit are about 6 months long.

The narrator of this tale is Dorrit Weger, who we meet as she is about to be picked up and moved to the Unit.  We experience the Unit with her.  With her, we go through anger, grief, confusion, sadness, and all the other emotions one would expect from someone forced into life as a glorified lab rat.  Fortunately, Dorrit is healthy, and she gets to participate in humane experiments.   She makes close friends in the Unit, and she even falls in love.

Then things happen that no one expects, and Dorrit has to think real hard about what her life is worth, and what it means to have a “good life.”   That is really the theme of the book:  what does it mean to be valued?  What gives life meaning?

I really enjoyed this book, racing through it in about 3 days.  It was hard to put down, first because I was so interested in learning about this curious society and the Unit, and then later because I couldn’t wait to see how the plot would unfold.

I highly recommend this one.