Sunday, July 12, 2009

The Women, by T. C. Boyle




The Women, by T.C. Boyle, is a novel that depicts the relationships the famous American architect Frank Lloyd Wright had with four women in his life. Boyle creates a narrator for this saga, one Sato Tadashi, a young man from Japan who reveres the famous architect and has come to Wisconsin to be one of Wright's apprentices at Taliesin.

Even though this is a novel, and Tadashi is an invented character, almost all the events depicted in this book are known to be true. I found Boyle's way of expanding on these facts to be fascinating, and I also really liked Tadashi. He is an excellent vehicle to speak for the apprentices, who paid tuition to Wright so that they could work their backsides off, spending more time at their farm chores than at their drawing boards. Tadashi also has the bad luck of being at Taliesin during the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and so spends WWII in an internment camp. I kept forgetting that Tadashi was a fictional man, Boyle's deft depiction of how these obscure apprentices sacrificed years of their lives to be near greatness, and also a reminder of the prejudices of the times.

Boyle chooses to introduce us to these women in reverse order, going back in time, since Tadashi arrives in the 1930s in time to meet Wrieto-San's last wife. However, I will mention them in chronological order, as is my wont:

Wright's first wife was Catherine "Kitty" Tobin, just seventeen years old when she married him in 1899. They had six children. Boyle does not fill in many details of this relationship for us, since Kitty must have had her hands full with children and housework, while Frank was out hustling commissions to support his large family. The one common thread stitched into all these stories is that Frank doesn't pay his bills. Kitty is the one who is left to feel uncomfortable everytime she gets groceries, being constantly reminded of their ever-growing debt. Frank is oblivious to these--little troubles, and always seems to have everything he wants.

Speaking of that, it is not long before Frank decides that he wants to be married to the wife of one of his clients. While designing a house for Edwin Cheney, he runs off to Europe with Edwin's wife, Mamah Borthwick Cheney. They both abandon their spouses and children in an act that is seen as immoral and selfish, and the scandal that follows almost ruins Frank's career. Kitty doesn't even know of this until the reporters come for her statement. This was Frank at his cruelest.

Frank and Mamah lived together without the benefit of marriage, and for this they were generally shunned, especially Mamah. (Frank's women always suffered.) It was somewhat ironic that Mamah was very much interested in the feminist movement and working on a translation of a feminist writer's work while living at Taliesin, the home Frank built for the two of them, when she was tragically murdered by a servant named Julian Carlton. ( Taliesin murders ) Seven people were murdered that day, including Mamah's visiting children, who were 12 and 9 years old. I found myself worrying about the fate of the murderer's young wife Gertrude, who was certainly not involved. The motive is still unknown, but Boyle imagines a very likely one.

Soon after Mamah's shocking death, while Frank is still mourning and vulnerable, a woman named Maude "Miriam" Noel insinuates her way into his life, and this is the start of a very bad time; Miriam is portrayed as the worst kind of opportunist, and she was definitely addicted to morphine. This marriage is over within a year, and while Frank is separated from Miriam, he meets Olga Lazovich Hinzenburg, or Olgivanna for--short, who will be his last wife.

His early days with Olgivanna are marred by Miriam. The way she torments, harasses, and actually stalks Frank and Olgivanna, even after being offered a very reasonable divorce settlement, would probably land Miriam in jail today, or at least rehab. Actually, my only real criticism of this novel is that there's too much Miriam in it, even though I realize that Frank's battle with her lasted a long time, possibly three times longer than their short marriage. In short, it was incredibly ugly and tedious.

Overall, I enjoyed this novel very much, and can see why Boyle decided to portray Wright's wives in reverse order, since it made for a more climatic ending than the other way around. How Frank Lloyd Wright managed to create such marvelous work with all this going on in the background is a mystery.

Monday, July 06, 2009

Into July


There hasn't been much to write about lately, nothing that would seem at all interesting. Work--that j.o.b. I report to--is still a bit wacked out, things changing up constantly, plenty of unhappy coworkers, enough drama and paranoia going around to make things generally unpleasant, even if you're trying hard not to pay attention it. Breathe in, breathe out...

We've caught two movies on Netflicks recently, both very good and very depressing: Rachel Getting Married and Elegy. Movies that revolve around weddings usually contain a good dose of humor, but the former movie had none of that, while the theme of the latter was death. It's just a happy carefree life, over here at Acton & Ekim's!

It's been an unusually cool, rainy season, so far. Corn that's supposed to be "knee high by the Fourth of July" looks to be hip high, to me. I love corn. We passed by Hershey Park yesterday, and the area was unusually quiet, as were those roadside stands selling fireworks. It was a lovely day, as it is today--but cooler and less humid that usual. I should go catch some of this sunshine.

It's taking me forever to get through my latest read, but not because it's no good. I'm in one of my bluish periods that will pass, and having a little trouble staying focused, and guess what? This book is rather--depressing. Perhaps it's a mid-life crisis. I should just go for a run, but.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, I'm sittin' here doin' nuthin' and so my mom calls and it turns out she's doin' the same thing, so we decide to go do it together. Nuthin's always better with company. So, we went to see the riverfront music fest, and watched a belly dancer and drank a beer and ate sweet potato fries. It really was a perfect day. Reminded me of a song...Saturday, in the park, in think it was the fourth of July...except this was Sunday in the park, and it was definitely the fifth of July. Only happens every seven years, I suppose. So anyway, I had my nap and my sunshine, too.

Things are looking so much better.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Rabbit, rabbit!




How much rabbit's in the Speed Rabbit Pizza? I'm trying to keep my calories down. Evidently, this is a French establishment, perhaps a gourmet option I've never heard of before.
Anyway, good luck in July!

The Ultimate Day of June

This is the last day of June, People. Do. Not. Forget to rabbit, rabbit tomorrow morning!


In June
I saw a charming group
of roses all begin
to droop.
I peeped them up
with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once
sprinkle twice
sprinkle chicken soup
with rice.

(Maurice Sendak)


Bye, bye, June of 2009. Hard to believe that in just four short days, we will hit the middle of the year.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

Oh, it's been a Nap Fest, I'll admit it. It's a rather gray day, too, not too hot. Comfy.

We watched Rachel Getting Married last night, and give it two thumbs up. I would expect a movie that revolves around a wedding to be funny, but this movie is an exception. Very good, but very sad, but sad in a very real way, not maudlin or tear-jerky. Everyone was good, and it was as thought-provoking as a densely written novel.

During my lazy Sunday, I've been trying to read (between nodding off) and browsing pictures. I think I have a need to waste time. Down time. Some of us need more of it than others do. I've also been sort-of reading the paper, and skimming magazines, too. I absolutely love the VISA debit card advertisements.





Have you ever overdosed on wasabi? Yes. Yes, I have, and when I do, I feel the sensation in the back of my head, near my occipital ridge. Not good, but I've learned to be very careful.

I'm slowly making my way through a book about Frank Floyd Wright, and I'm learning about all kinds of stuff, including the Mann Act of 1913:

The Mann Act made it a felony to transport or aid in the transportation of a woman in interstate or foreign commerce “for the purpose of prostitution or debauchery, or for any other immoral purpose, or with the intent and purpose to induce, entice, or compel such woman or girl” to immoral acts.

So--a man who crossed a state line with a woman not his wife could be jailed. Interesting.

Happy Monday, everyone!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Friday!


And the first Friday of summer, too. It's hot, it feels like summer, and I plan on vegging at the pool and actually getting some reading done.
Have a great weekend, everyone!

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Just a few words...

The news that's overshadowing everything at this moment is Michael Jackson's untimely death. I felt sorry for Michael Jackson. As a child of the 70s, I enjoyed his music when he was a boy performing with his brothers and watched him as a very shy, uncomfortable young man in the 80's, while his fame was at its peak. I will always wonder what happened, what drove someone so talented and loved to become so bizarre. Why all the plastic surgery? At least one surgeon should be in jail. He was a cute boy and nice-looking young man. Why so uncomfortable in his own skin? Had Michael himself been molested as a boy? It's a question that's always crossed my mind, because it could explain the not wanting to be--Michael Jackson.

An entire life of unprecedented fame was also to blame. If fame is bad for a person's overall well-being, Michael Jackson was a dead man walking. So cloistered, so introverted, so out-of-touch with real life, it's hard to believe anyone really knew him.

Perhaps Michael Jackson has found his never-never land.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Beautiful birds

I didn't know about Duck Stamps. This is an example of a Federal Duck Stamp:



Fifteen dollars??? That's right--they are not for postal use. The money goes towards conservation, and they also double as a duck-hunting license for hunters over the age of 16 and an entrance fee into wildlife preserves for birders. Conservationists and collectors buy both Federal and Junior Duck Stamps--just cuz. There is an art contest every year for the glory of being the creator of a Duck Stamp image. (The beautiful rendition of snow geese was Ron Louque's creation)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The Junior Duck Stamps are examples of artwork done by artists under the age of 18, and this particular one was created by Bonnie Latham, who was 16 years old at the time when she won this art contest.


This year's junior contest winner was another 16-year-old, Lily Spang. A competition is held at the state level, then the winners from each state go on to compete nationally. This final contest is held on Earth Day--what a neat idea. It's a great way for young people to get involved and raise money to support their environment. I wonder how I missed hearing about this.

I need to get out more, obviously.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Progressing

funny pictures of cats with captions
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Wish it were always true...

Just a month ago, I was describing how dull, smooth, and tranquil work had become. Well, we hit a storm, and are slooooooooowly sailing through it. One day at a time. The experience has been a shaker, and it's hard to describe why. Even though it's just a job, it's shocking when things change so much overnight. And it was overnight. In many ways, we've all started new jobs, and everyone is feeling either unhappy or stressed or both.

But, it's getting quieter. The phones aren't ringing all day anymore. People aren't complaining to us as often. We haven't been in the local paper for days now. That'll change, because we're about to be sued by another institution, but this is a nice lull.

I must find time to get to the pool this weekend! It's summer. Are we having fun, yet?

Monday, June 22, 2009

What's for dessert?



Oh, hi. Just borrowin' your seat as soon as you're not using it.





I'm thankful that my pet is small enough to pick up and move, when she gets pesty.