Why Don't I Read More Plays?

An intriguing item in today's (10/20/11) San Francisco Chronicle tells of one of Eugene O'Neill's seemingly lost plays, "Exorcism," turning up in a researcher's archives. It had apparently been given to the writer Philip Yordan as a Christmas gift by Agnes Boulton, O'Neill's second wife. Besides being interested in this news, and, as always, being happy when a lost book or any work of art is re-found, I started musing about why I almost never read plays any more. When I was in college and grad school, and even for a little while afterward, I read plenty of plays by many playwrights, from Euripides and Shakespeare to Chekhov, Shaw, Wilde, Miller, Albee, Pinter, Beckett, Williams, Hellman, Mamet, Hansberry, and many more. (Note that only two of these are female, and that to this day there are far too few women playwrights.) I do go to the theater occasionally (well, to be honest, these days very occasionally), but I never wake up and think "I should read a play today!" or "Why don't I re-read O'Neill, or Williams, or Albee?" in the way that I often DO think, "I want to re-read Eliot, Dickens, Cather, Wharton, Woolf (and many more)." (In fact, I actually and frequently DO re-read these authors.) In a time period in which I have read hundreds of books -- novels, short story collections, memoirs, essay collections, professional books, etc. --, why haven't I read more than a very small handful of plays? Is it because a play on the page seems like a poor substitute for a performance? Does the play seem rather inert on the page? Is it the chopped-up visual look of the play in print? I am not sure. I am curious: Do any of you read plays? Why or why not?

Julian Barnes Finally Wins the Man Booker Prize

It was announced yesterday that Julian Barnes won this year's Man Booker Prize for fiction, for his novel "The Sense of an Ending." The Booker is Britain's most prestigious literary prize. I haven't read the novel yet, because it has only very recently been released in the U.S., but I plan to. Readers of this blog may remember that I have written about several of Barnes' books, and highly appreciate his work, perhaps his short stories even more than his novels. Barnes, a very well-respected writer, had been nominated three times before, so it was not a surprise that he won this time. There was, parenthetically, a bit of a kerfuffle about the judges' stating that they were looking for "readable" books, which was interpreted as not putting literary value first. This criticism was not aimed at Barnes, but at the Booker judges, and at the fact that writers such as Alan Hollinghurst and Ali Smith were not shortlisted this year. There is talk that a group of British writers and publishers plan to set up a new Literature Prize "where the single criterion is excellence rather than other factors," as Andrew Kidd, spokesman for the proposed new prize, puts it. One difference from the Booker will be that any English-language writer whose work has been published in Britain will be eligible, unlike the Booker, which does not give the prize to Americans. We shall see if the Literary Prize will actually be set up, and if it becomes as prestigious as the Booker Prize is now. (Thanks to the AP and to the Guardian UK for some of this information.) In any case, back to Julian Barnes: I congratulate him on his well deserved (if this new book is anything like his earlier books) win.

"Blueprints for Building Better Girls," by Elissa Schappell

What brave, sad, confused, confusing, risk-taking, drug-taking, drinking, anorexic, tough, confidence-lacking, sister-supporting, self-destructive, surprising, vulnerable, and ultimately good girls are portrayed in Elissa Schappell's "Blueprints for Building Better Girls" (Simon & Schuster, 2011)! Like the author's earlier book, "Use Me," which I reviewed here on 10/4/11, this is a novel but really a collection of interlocking short stories. There are many different girl characters, along with some grown women characters, and some are the same characters portrayed at different times in their lives. At times one has to struggle, and turn back the pages, to remember the characters from earlier stories and how they are connected. But this is not a drawback. The portraits are deeply etched, sharp, poignant, and heartbreaking. In a fictional way they reflect much of what we know, see, read, and witness about teenaged and older girls/women today, in this confusing time when girls and women are told they can do anything, but then find that all choices are fraught, and most decisions come with conditions and codas and unforeseen consequences. I imagine this description makes the book sound depressing, and in a sense it is, but it is also gripping, real, sharply and precisely written, and sometimes very funny. Schappell has a gift for capturing the quirky, the different, and yet the very recognizable.

Let's Not Forget Alice Childress

The 10/10/11 issue of The New Yorker includes a review article, "Black and Blue," that reminds us about the African-American playwright and novelist Alice Childress. Her plays include "Florence" (1949), "Wedding Band" (1966), and "Wine in the Wilderness" (1969). The occasion for this New Yorker article is the current Washington, D.C. revival of Childress' 1955 play, "Trouble in Mind," about black actors who are trapped playing limited stereotypical roles such as the "mammy" role. As the author of this article, Hilton Als, states, "Anyone who has spent time around black performers knows that little has changed, except that now they're less likely to play maids than misunderstood prostitutes or thugs." Yet the main character in "Trouble," Wiletta, wants to be an actress, keeps going, and never backs down despite all the obstacles she encounters. Childress herself started as an actress, and in 1925 was nominated for a Tony for Best Supporting Actress. But "she found little dramatic material that represented the lives of black women she knew, so she began writing it herself" (Als). Some readers may also remember Childress' successful 1973 young-adult novel, "A Hero Ain't Nothin' but a Sandwich," which is set in Harlem and is "a merciless yet compassionate examination of how the world has failed a thirteen-year-old heroin addict named Benjie" (Als). This strong woman, this gifted writer, Alice Childress, who died in 1994, should not be forgotten. Let's hope that the current revival of "Trouble in Mind," along with this Hilton Als article, will help to keep her memory and reputation alive.

The Top 100 Feminist Nonfiction Books

The Ms. Magazine blog has just published a list of the top 100 feminist nonfiction books, in order, as determined by a poll of readers. What a wonderful, varied, rich list it is, drawing on books mostly written over the past 50 years or so. Reading the titles and seeing the covers of the books brings back so many memories to a seasoned (mature? child of the 60s and 70s?) feminist such as I am. I have read so many of these books over the many years, and have read reviews of and commentaries on others as well. The author with the most books on the list is bell hooks, with seven books. Some of the other authors included, and I list them here in no particular order, are Virginia Woolf, Mary Wollstonecraft, Simone de Beauvoir, Susan Faludi, Audre Lorde, Cherrie Moraga, Gloria Anzaldua, Kate Millett, Gloria Steinem, Barbara Ehrenreich, Betty Friedan, Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, Angela Y. Davis, Adrienne Rich, Katha Pollitt, Shulamith Firestone, Susan Brownmiller, Merlin Stone, Carol Gilligan, The Guerilla Girls, Lillian Faderman, Eve Ensler, Gerda Lerner, Merlin Stone, and Judith Butler. But do check out the Ms. list for yourself at the following web address:

http://www.msmagazine.com/blog/blog/2011/10/10/ms-readers-100-best-non-fiction-books-of-all-time-the-top-10-and-the-complete-list/

"Girls in White Dresses," by Jennifer Close

“Girls in White Dresses” (Knopf, 2011), by first time novelist Jennifer Close, has many of the earmarks of a common genre: the “girlfriends” book. The novel follows a group of women friends from college days about ten years into their futures, as they move to their own apartments, get jobs, have serious or stalled careers, meet appropriate and inappropriate men, have various romances, and survive breakups; some of them get married and have children and some of them think they will never meet the right man. Throughout, they get their greatest support from each other. Although this situation is not original at all, in fiction or in life, Close gives us a smart, funny, touching but not sentimental look at these young women’s lives. Mary, Isabella, Lauren and their friends went to colleges such as Boston College, and they now mostly live in New York. They all go to a lot of wedding showers and weddings, which soon become a dreaded chore. The women are funny and snarky about these, and about men and relationships, yet they do their duty by their friends and follow the conventions of showers -- dressing up, taking the train to wherever the event is, buying and wrapping gifts, oohing and ahing at the gifts, writing down who gave what, playing silly games, eating little sandwiches and sipping mimosas -- and of weddings, even if they are rolling their eyes when no one else is looking. The author is very good at the telling details about these women’s lives, and she shows how the friends sustain and entertain each other; this strikes me as quite authentic. Some of the minor characters are perhaps too much “types” rather than realistic, but the main characters are well depicted, and although at times they can be annoying to each other and to the reader, we can’t help feeling affectionate toward them and cheering them on. The stories are told in chapters that could stand alone, but all fit together. Some fit together less than others, feeling a little shoehorned into the narrative, but overall the structure works, and this novel is enjoyable to read.

Thank You, Kate Chopin, for your Courage

The textbook/reader I am using this semester, and have often used before, contains two stories by Kate Chopin. As I was teaching the stories this semester, I was reminded once again of what a wonderful, brave, groundbreaking, and inspiring writer Chopin (1850-1904) was. She published two novels and about 100 short stories, mostly about women’s lives. Her 1899 novel, “The Awakening,” portrayed (very discreetly) a woman’s sexuality, and was widely condemned as “morbid, vulgar, and disagreeable” (katechopin.org). We forget how hard it was to speak out honestly about women's lives, and how devastatingly negative the response could be. The reception of this novel was a real blow to Chopin, and she almost stopped writing. After she died, her work was largely forgotten for some years, but was gradually rediscovered, especially after it received attention from feminist critics in the 1960s and 1970s and onward. Her 1969 biographer, Per Seyersted, stated that Chopin “broke new ground in American literature…She was the first woman writer in her country to accept passion as a legitimate subject for serious, outspoken fiction. Revolting against tradition and authority; with a daring which we can hardy fathom today; with an uncompromising honesty and no trace of sensationalism, she undertook to give the unsparing truth about woman’s submerged life" (katechopin.org). One of her most famous stories, “The Story of an Hour,” always provokes lively discussion in my classes. Within three pages, taking place inside a house, and describing the events of just an hour, in its compact way it says everything about the lives of married women in the United States during the late 19th century. It is beautifully written, powerful, and has a surprise ending. It was writers such as Chopin who made a difference in how readers thought about women’s lives, marriage, sexuality, and need for independence; I applaud and thank her for her insight, strength, and courage.