I told you so. How could you have doubted? Part of the problem with the so-called Sox stigma was that people weren’t willing to believe in a comeback. Even as the Sox climbed their way out of a championship shutout, there were many baseball junkies I talked to who remained convinced that the Yanks would win, that it could not happen, and that the Sox, as adorably crimson as they might be, simply weren’t going to do it. But 10-3? That’s what I call a goddam blowout.
But taking the allegory I propounded the other day (which has launched some Grade-A comment silliness) one step further, I suspect that the Sox needed to win, just to demonstrate to the damn world that nothing is certain, and that there are marvelous surprises behind every corner — just so long as people believe in them and don’t give up hope. Case in point: If you told me two weeks ago that I’d be waxing whacked out sports-related metaphysics on these pages, I wouldn’t have believed you. But the Sox’s gradual entree into the Series proper gives the kind of true faith and freedom that the shaky boys at the top couldn’t fathom for a second. It’s a fatalistic whirlydirsh that needed to happen. Completely secular, entirely unprecedented, and downright joyous.
And on that note, holy frijole. Sarah’s nabbed an interview with Alexander McCall Smith. Joe Bob says check it out.
Magic Hours by Tom Bissell: This marvelous collection of essays chronicles everything from film shoots to novelists rescued from oblivion. (The essay on the Underground Literary Alliance, with its portrait of raucous factions, unexpectedly reveals how soft today's literary world has become.) But if you peer between the cracks of these smart pieces, you may very well see how cultural lives are formed from the most unexpected life choices. And as we follow Bissell's development as a writer over the years, that goes for Bissell as well. (
Angelmaker by Nick Harkaway: Harkaway's latest novel greatly improves on his previous book, The Gone-Away World, which I'm already on record as praising. Angelmaker adopts genre elements without ever feeling like a genre book, and it leads me to believe that Harkaway is well on his way to a narrative grace close to China Miéville's. Yet inexplicably this very fun book, which includes an eightysomething badass named Edie Banister, a mysterious mechanical object that may destroy the world, farcical scenarios involving lawyers and the police, and some unexpectedly moving moments about fatherhood, doesn't appear to be getting much attention in American newspapers. Nothing from the snobs at The New York Times Book Review, nothing from The Washington Post. And since I can't get Harkaway on Bat Segundo, I hope this Jump Up and Down mention gets you hopping as well.
The Age of Insight by Eric Kandel: Unless you're really pressed for time, forget Jonah Lehrer. If you want to understand creativity and its relationship to neuroscience, then the bowtie-wearing Nobel laureate is your man. In addition to being a physically beautiful book (you will drool over many of the paintings), there are helpful overviews on optical illusions, science, biographical backgrounds, and many vital figures from the Vienna Secession. Kandel's enthusiasm (and his call for greater unity between the humanities and science) is contagious.