Last night, I stayed in the hotel room rather than attend the party scene. But I understand that Bat Segundo, who flew in the plane with me, caused considerable trouble last night. Emails are coming in that Mr. Segundo was utterly rude to people and that he even started kissing and licking people and made horrible pronouncements and judgments. Had I known any of this, I would never have bought the plane ticket for Mr. Segundo, much less let him loose in any BEA festivities. We may have to rethink Mr. Segundo’s role in the grand scheme of things.
Strangely enough, it was Kevin Smokler was one of the few individuals to not only comprehend Mr. Segundo’s antics, but to actually get through to the troubled radio personality. Further, since we didn’t have the budget to hire a personal assistant, Carolyn Kellogg managed to trick Mr. Segundo and quell his ire through several drinks, as did the incomprable Megan Sullivan. I thank these individuals for doing their best to mollify Mr. Segundo’s abject temperament. Alas, with Mr. Segundo, it takes a junta to work miracles.
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (