Books and Movies, Movies and Books

As we drove out to Idaho a few weeks ago, I listened to The Lost City of Z by David Grann. Grann is a journalist who, casting about for a story, came across accounts of Colonel Percy Fawcett, one of the last great Victorian Explorers with a capital "E." Fawcett believed that all the rumors about Coronado, the legendary South American city of gold, had to have existed in some fashion or another. So he dedicated the later half of his life to finding evidence of it. He disappeared into the Amazon jungle in 1925 and was never heard from again. Eighty years later, David Grann became fascinated with Fawcett and set out to discover what had happened to him.





I think listening to a book creates a different experience than reading it so I'm not sure how I would have reacted to it had I encountered it that way. Either way, I enjoyed it quite a bit. The story weaves back and forth between a biography of Fawcett, the history of Victorian exploration, legends of Z (inexplicably, the name Fawcett gave to this mythical city), and Grann's efforts to track down his story. While the writing lacks the crazy, passionate enthusiasm of other journalist-on-a-mission books that I've read and loved (Chasing Che, Into the Wild, The Island of Lost Maps), it's still a really interesting book. It was a good traveling companion for 10 hours on the road.

The other night, I finished the last story in Letting Loose the Hounds by Brady Udall, Boise State MFA professor, writer, and Mormon. His latest novel, The Lonely Polygamist, just came out and, in preparation, I decided to read his book of short stories. Contemporary literary short stories, I have found, can either be devastatingly powerful or the reading equivalent of having a damp, dingy dishrag limply dragged over your face. It's definitely something - but not necessarily a pleasant or useful something. I was pleased to find that Udall has a nice sense of language and a compassionate heart for his characters. There were moments when I laughed out loud while reading and that's always a nice thing. The characters were fresh without being looney, wacky, or unnecessarily quirky (another failing of some contemporary literature).



I appreciated each story and felt like my time was well spent. However, one aspect that I really like in the best short stories is that punch-to-the-face feeling you get when it's over. Ever read Edith Wharton's "Roman Fever" or Flannery O'Connor's "Good Country People?" Jhumpa Lahiri's "Sexy" or John Cheever's "The Swimmer?" At the end of each of those, I feel as though I've been smacked in the face with pleasure. My only qualm with Udall's book of stories is that not one of them left me with that feeling. They were all cozy and enjoyable but not one of them smacked me in the head. There are a couple I enjoyed more than the others and I'll probably use at least one of them in my creative writing class this fall - but when I read a short story, I want to feel as though a sniper of literary joy has lined me up in his (or her) sights and fired.

Speaking of which, we took the girls to see Toy Story 3 yesterday. We got a babysitter and were able to enjoy an entire movie uninterrupted by the need for a bottle or a diaper change. It was easily the best movie I've seen this year. It was smart, sweet, lovely, laugh-out-loud funny, and touching. How many movies can you say that about these days? As with a lot of fiction, I come away from a lot of movies feeling vaguely (sometimes not so vaguely) dissatisfied and empty. I came away from this movie feeling as though I was better for having seen it. Again, how many movies can we say that about these days? Most of you have probably already seen it or read about it, but for those who haven't done either, I won't spoil anything. I'll simply say, no other movie (or tv show or book) has ever gotten so much comedic mileage out of a tortilla. I'll let you find out what I'm talking about.