Rhythm and Books

Horn Tooting

We forewent our Tuesday evening tradition of ripping the covers off old mass market paperbacks and wagering on American Idol by accepting a gracious invitation to attend the Greenwood Chamber of Commerce's annual dinner — our first! — and were shocked to learn, after several Old Charters, that Turnrow Book Co. had won the coveted Retailer of the Year Award!  Thanks, Greenwood!

Also, we want to congratulate our friend Martha Foose, whose book Screen Doors and Sweet Tea (fast on its way to becoming Turnrow's best-selling book of all time) was just nominated for a James Beard Award.

The Friedmans' Futures

Times are bleak, and what better way to shake off the bailout blues than to look ahead to better, or at least different, times.  There may be little use in predicting the future, and even less in reading book-length predictions, aside from sci-fi-style entertainment.  Nevertheless, we recently read, by sheer coincidence, back-to-back forecasts of our near and far-off future world — George Friedman's The Next 100 Years and Thomas Friedman's Hot, Flat and Crowded.  Neither are works of fiction, yet both are greatly entertaining and provocative.  And though vastly different in their views of tomorrow, both books are useful in presenting distinct and unique perspectives of the present.

We were anxious to read The Next 100 Years, after enjoying George Friedman's last book in 2004, America's Secret War, a fascinating look at U.S. foreign policy and the War on Terror.  G. Friedman revealed the secret histories and motivations of America and its Middle Eastern allies and adversaries, describing a conflict with much more subtle implications than the chaotic mess that we were watching unfold day by day on the nightly news.

G. Friedman is the founder and head of Statfor, a private intelligence-gathering firm that is highly regarded for their clear-eyed analyses and forecasts of global events.  He has unique access to the maneuvers of nations around the world and a gift for explaining these events and their wider significance with brilliant clarity.  In The Next 100 Years, G. Friedman employs his deft understanding of modern geopolitics and his careful study of the patterns of history to imagine what fates await the world's most powerful nations over the next century. 

Americans will be relieved to know that the U.S. will remain the world's leading superpower throughout much of the next hundred years, though not without our challenges.  Our geographical advantages, massive economy (don't worry about this little dip we're experiencing at the moment), and military might (especially our dominance of the seas), will keep the U.S. supreme for a long time. 

We're in the final phases of the U.S.-jihadist war, G. Friedman asserts, and have accomplished, albeit sloppily, our goal of disrupting Al Qaeda and preventing an Islamic power to rise in the Middle East.  By creating chaos in the region, we've effectively kept our enemies fighting each other rather than planning our demise.  The next great challenge, according to G. Friedman, will be Russia, whose reassertion on the world stage will initiate a second Cold War in the late 2010s and 2020s.  The U.S. will again persevere, even more efficiently this go-round, but will contend with the fallout around 2050 when a new global war erupts between a U.S./British/Polish alliance versus a coalition between the Turks and the Japanese.  We will again emerge victorious, enjoying a period of peace and great technological innovation before neighboring Mexico rises to challenge our dominance.

It sounds far-fetched, G. Friedman admits, but how would it have sounded to someone in 1909 if you described the world we live in today?  Of course, most readers will take these forecasts with a grain of salt.  The details — among the most audacious, a scenario in which Japan launches a moon-based assault on America's highly sophisticated satellite command in orbit during the century's world war — aren't really the point, but instead G. Friedman wants us to see the consequences of how policies and events today, or even decades ago, reverberate over time.  What's most interesting about the book is not necessarily the future, but how we get there.  It's a testament to G. Friedman's grasp of geopolitics  that his explanation of why Turkey, Poland, Japan and Mexico will be long-term major players, and why we needn't worry about China, Iran, North Korea or Pakistan is so convincing.

The most glaring omission in The Next 100 Years is the effect of global warming on the future, something G. Friedman mentions only in the final paragraphs of the book.  This is a problem that will solve itself, he says, due to a decline in world population and advances in space-based solar power collection, an advantageous byproduct of nations auguring for dominance in space. 

Here we find the great intersection of these two books.  In Hot, Flat, and Crowded, Thomas Friedman bases his entire premise on the problems of climate change and rapid population growth.  Interestingly, both writers cite United Nation reports to assert their belief that populations will either explode, in the case of T. Friedman, or G. Friedman's reliance on population decline.  (Interestingly, G. Friedman believes this will become an issue for America later in the century, ultimately leading to our aggressive recruitment of immigrants.)  Who's right?  Neither offers footnotes, so we may never know ... until the future.

While G.'s book presupposes American dominance — based on our "tremendous imbalance of economic, military, and political power" — T.'s book recognizes the slump we've been experiencing as a nation since 9/11.  The way out of our national funk, he asserts, is to band together, use our ingenuity and can-do spirit, and create a clean and renewable energy economy that will not only allow us to confront the largest looming and most terrifying problem in our world today, but to achieve a technological and economic dominance that will insure a stature similar to G. Friedman's vision of America in the 21st century.

For many readers, T. Friedman's Hot, Flat, and Crowded is one of the most palatable books about global warming.  Couched in a conversational tone (which can become hokey, repetitive and pep-talky at times), T. Friedman condenses a lot of the gloomy statistics that can be overwhelming in most books on global warming and creates a largely upbeat picture of what a true green revolution in America would look like.  It's not the "10 Easy Ways to Save the Planet" magazine-rack and Earth Day concert green "party" that we're currently experiencing, but a complete upheaval of old ways and a new lifestyle that will require sacrifice and awareness.  This change in American thinking is necessary, T. Friedman argues convincingly, as the planet's third-world rises to match the consumption levels that America has enjoyed for decades.  It's imperative to show them that we got it wrong on unchecked consumption, and that we show them a better, more efficient way to generate power, manage ecosystems and eliminate wastes.

One of the most fascinating sections of the book paints a picture of an ideal near-future, in which Americans get on board and revise the old energy platform (which, unlike nearly every other technological system in this country, has not been updates in generations) into a sophisticated smart and clean energy grid.  In this world we use technology to manage and streamline energy consumption in our home, balancing the need for electricity only when and where we need it and selling back when its being conserved.  You won't have to worry about cutting off lights when you leave a room or putting a brick in your toilet to stay green because your appliances will communicate with each other and balance the flow of energy for you.

Of course, the human energy required to create such a shift in our lifestyles will be monumental.  It requires a considerable level of optimism to read T. Friedman's book and think that it could be achieved, especially when much of what he suggests will require government intervention — to either relax standards in certain areas and tighten up in others to create an environment for the private sector to invest and march forward.  Some of the most infuriating material in the book is not the gloom-and-doom of climate change but anecdotal evidence of how government policy has stood in the way of meaningful green progress for decades and continues to do so.

For cynics, Friedman shows signs of a gathering green revolution throughout the world.  It's happening in places like Europe and even China, and if America hopes to be on top, as G. Friedman contends, it must take the lead in this revolution.  The world depends on America to lead, T. Friedman insists.

A hearty (as opposed to jingoistic) patriotism and keen understanding of how the world looks today lies at the heart of both of these books by Friedmans, along with an optimism about America's role in the future.  Their patriotism is contagious, their theses cogently argued, and their books filled with fascinating ideas.  Both are highly recommended to promote serious discussion about the direction we're headed, and to provide a useful view up and over the rim of this hole we seem to have dug ourselves into at this decisive moment in American history.

For more on George Friedman's The Next 100 Years, view this short video at the Stratfor website.  Also, read more about Thomas Friedman's Hot, Flat, and Crowded at his website.

What You're Missing

Tim Gautreaux's new novel, The Missing, just landed and it's surely one of the year's best surprises — a lively, old-style river yarn set on the Mighty Mississippi, a story as dark and twisting as the river itself.  Sure, we've enjoyed the Louisiana author's work for years, (especially his lumberjack novel, The Clearing) but this new work may be his best yet.

The novel's complicated hero is Sam Simoneaux, who has returned from France after World War I.  Random tragedy has followed him all his life, but he finally catches a break when he finds work as a floorwalker in a prominent New Orleans department store.  His short-lived comfort ends when a young girl is kidnapped on his watch.

Fired from his job and still unsettled by his past, Sam avails himself to the young girl's parents, a musical couple who perform on an excursion steamer.  Resourceful, and desperate to quell his own demons, Sam vows to help find the girl, so he joins the ship's crew as they travel up the Mississippi, stopping in port cities and taking on passengers for night cruises filled with dining and dancing.  Along the way he engages in amateur sleuthing, establishing allies and following leads up and down the river. 

The story often feels like a classic mystery but never becomes bogged down in formula.  Gautreaux balances the action with rich characters and river culture, from steamboating and excursion life to rugged riverbank hijinks.  As Sam pieces together the whereabouts of the young girl, the travelers encounter a host of tragedies and prickly characters that make this a mesmerizing journey.

After reading an early copy of The Missing, we sent Mr. Gautreaux our high praise, and he paid us a visit last Thursday while traveling north on book tour.  He graciously signed our mound of books as we asked him about the excursion steamer trade, which was popular from the 1890s until World War II, a trade that has been all but forgotten.  (It's modern day incarnation must be the music cruises which have become popular in recent years.)  While largely an activity of the civilized class, things could get rowdy when the ship pulled into a backwoods blue collar river town.  (The imagined mayhem comprises some of the most memorable scenes in The Missing.)  Perhaps the greatest legacy of this steamboat trade was the widespread dissemination of jazz music.  The radio stations weren't playing it, record companies weren't recording it, but the music crept out of New Orleans aboard these dance boats.

Mr. Gautreaux went on to lament how much river history has been lost.  What's left exists only in the few sparse museums along the Mississippi.  Even the boats and equipment from the era have been destroyed rather than preserved.  We asked him if writing this novel was his way of preserving a bit of that history and he agreed but said mainly he wrote novels as a way to express his obsessions.  Coming from a clan of machinists and tinkerers, he maintains a fascination for all things mechanical.

Finally, we brought to Mr. Gautreaux's attention the burgeoning school of timber lit and were honored to have introduced him to this literary tradition, even though The Clearing sits firmly entrenched amid the genre's great works.  Aside from the recent novel Serena, he could recall no other novel set in the world of lumberjacks.  In fact, he thought it surprising that there were not more lumberjack novels, seeing as how most of America was one big forest and was clear cut before settled.  It's a significant experience in every American region, though it remains, like riverboat culture, largely forgotten by Americans today.

The Missing provides a chance to catch up on some of that history through a well-told story.  It seems to be one of the rare, wonderful novels that succeeds as a portrait of an historical era and brilliant entertainment. 

In the Cold and Sweatless Meathooks of a Psychosis

The latest report from the Secret Book Club comes from a trusted staff member who actually witnessed the most recent meeting of Greenwood's only known clandestine literary sect.  The staff member — who wishes to remain anonymous, so as not to incur the revenge of the Secret Book Club — found in the bookstore's public restroom a wadded up flyer announcing the time and meeting place of the club's most recent book discussion.  To his surprise, it was to be held at Turnrow, after hours, a puzzlement in that the secret club had purposely excluded staff members from their ranks.

On the assigned day, the secret staff member arrived early for the meeting and hid in the upstairs utility closet.  Through the return air vent he was able to observe unnoticed.  He watched them arrive one by one, each wearing a mask and taking their seats in the cafe area without a word of conversation.  "I thought I recognized one of them as P—," the staff member reported, P— being a former part-timer, who might have gotten his hands on a key at some point.  "Funny, though, I don't remember P— being much of a reader."

The six members sat around a table piled high with Hostess cakes, snacking demurely until the meeting was called to order by a severe-looking fellow in a common black eye mask.  The book was The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, a clever selection for a secret book club since it deals with a woman's quest to learn more about the secret society implicated in a mysterious inheritance she receives from a former lover.

The opinions of the novel were varied.  One eager reader called it "the mother of all conspiracy novels," but when pressed for other conspiracy novels came up dry.  Another person admired Pynchon's diction, referring to him as "a master of the comma" and had flagged several passages in which the punctuation had particularly impressed him.

The supposed leader said that his own creative writing had been compared to Pynchon by a college writing professor.  "The opening section of Lot 49 actually reminded me of my first novel," he said, then admitted that he'd put Pynchon's book aside to reread his own undiscovered masterpiece, which he kept in a manila envelope in a bedside chest of drawers.  "I kind of thought mine was better," he said.

The discussion became particularly heated when members tried to reconcile the ending and whether or not the protagonist had indeed stumbled upon a worldwide conspiracy, an elaborate practical joke or simply a figment of her own paranoia.  Various clues and textual references were bandied about in escalating, passionate exchanges.

One young drawn-up woman, who'd said little while shuffling her feet nervously under the table, suddenly burst out, "I tried to read this book slow and careful, to catch all the things y'all are saying, but I couldn't always make sense of it.  I just have too much going on in my life to read this carefully and understand everything!"  She then stood up and fled the meeting near tears.

The meeting petered out near the end of a fairly inept discussion about the author himself, a famous recluse whose anonymity has fueled his reputation as a literary cult hero, between two members who  bet to see who could track the author down and correspond with him via email first.

Our secret staff member, who was nearly discovered when one of the book clubbers mistook the utility closet for a bathroom, remained hidden throughout the entire meeting and felt privileged to witness such a rare event.  He was especially impressed by the contentious selection process for the next book, by which members tried to stump each other to name the most obscure novels.  The inevitable selection, chosen from a list that was chopped and drawn from an empty Hostess box, is another fine and mysterious choice, which, in the interest of protecting sales to Secret Book Club, we won't divulge.  If you're genuinely intrigued and would like to read along, just give us a call and mention the secret password:  Trystero! 

Grisham Signed Our Books

John Grisham, one of Turnrow's most loyal pals, swooped in this week for a private book signing for his new novel, The Associate.  (Signed copies available here.)  We found the book to be a winning, fast-paced read, the kind he does so well, in which an idealistic young lawyer becomes ensnared in an ethical quandary with criminal and life-threatening consequences.  It's a throwback to his early thrillers like The Firm and The Client, Grisham admits, answering fans who tell him they like his early work best.

Some readers, we've noticed, try to convince themselves not to buy The Associate because "he keeps writing the same book over and over."  But in the two years and four books that he's been visiting Turnrow, it's always a mixed bag.  He went from true-crime (The Innocent Man) to a short and sporty fish-out-of-water story (Playing for Pizza) to a politically charged thriller exposing judicial corruption (The Appeal) to his latest, a good old-fashioned page-turner with plenty of secrets and chase. 

And there are further deviations yet.  Grisham told us he's putting the finishing touches on a collection of short stories, due out this fall.  In the meantime, a 20th anniversary edition of A Time to Kill will be released this summer.

Things are heating up on the Grisham film adaptation scene as well.  After a long hiatus in Hollywood, Grisham mentioned a half dozen titles currently in development.  Most talked about now is The Associate, which has some of Hollywood's hottest players attached, including actor Shia LaBeouf, Oscar-winning writer William Monahan (The Departed) and blockbuster producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura (Transformers, G.I. Joe).

Back to books, Grisham recommended two favorites — The Lost City of Z by David Grann, a true adventure-mystery set in the Amazon, and one of our own favorite novels from 2008, Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles.  After signing our stock and partaking of lunch in our cafe, which he decreed exceptional (so get down here and have some soup already), he moved on south to Jackson, where he was due to accept the Mississippi Governor's Award for Literary Achievement.