Librarian in the Living Room

There were many moments I was shocked while reading The Death of Bunny Munro, but it was not a purposeful and forced shock for nothing. The depravity of Bunny Munro is exactly where the humanity lies in this novel by musician, Nick Cave. This sounds odd, I know, and it seems a task that would be nearly impossible, but while I read of Bunny’s disturbingly selfish exploits, I felt a deep humanity for him in the same moment that I felt a great, monstrous loathing for him. This is no small feat by Cave who has said in an interview that the novel was written while he was on tour for Dig, Lazarus, Dig! (coincidentally when I saw him in concert) and that it took only about six weeks to write. But I have found that the best bits of genius come in a orgasmic fury of creativity, an orgasmic fury that is somehow very appropriate considering Bunny himself.

Cave’s writing is exactly what I always enjoy and respect when reading a novel — poetic language, stark imagery, and a pounding emotion that is wholly unavoidable. I want to feel conflicted when reading a novel. For me, feeling conflict, having that see-sawing “I like the character / hate the character” feeling throughout is a often a rare experience in most contemporary fiction.

Something that is still marinating within me about this book is, Why Bunny? There is Bunny Senior, Bunny, and Bunny Junior. What is the significance of this? Then there are the silly yet poignant details of Bunny’s neckties equipped with renderings of bunnies in varying attitudes and temperaments, usually matching Bunny Munro’s attitude and temperament at any given moment in the book. Then the usual associative thoughts about bunnies begin to creep into the reader’s mind (or at least mine): the overzealous mating of bunnies (definitely true of Bunny Munro), as well as its folkloric trickster quality that Bunny Munro entirely fits as well, or maybe more like a man who thinks he’s tricking everyone but the joke, as they say, is on him. There are notions of fantasy with bunnies, the chaotic movements of bunnies that are still somewhat calculating. But I think the prevalence of bunnydom in the names and the poking moments of imagery in the book is simply to illustrate the smallness of this man, Bunny Munro. On that note, let me quote one of the most superb lines uttered by Bunny at the end of the book, “‘I just found this world a hard place to be good in’” (277).

I could identify with this line as most everyone can, even if not to the depraved extent to which Bunny is referring when pondering his existence. This line from Bunny is also one that ties nicely together the notion of Bunny Munro as an Everyman, however a bad Everyman he may be. I am reading now an excerpt of Craig Owen’s book, Beyond Recognition, reading about his grappling with the notion of allegory in contemporary art. And as we know Everyman the book, is essentially an allegory. And Nick Cave’s novel is indeed an allegory … maybe an allegory of an allegory … a morality tale on how not to live within the world, even if it is “a hard place to be good in.”

I would encourage readers of this novel to post comments here about The Death of Bunny Munro. It was an allegory that was needed in the contemporary fiction Canon, as well as the perfect catalyst to open a discussion not of morality per se, but perhaps about how to be good. Whatever “good” may mean …

Michael Peppiatt’s biography about the truly enigmatic artist, Francis Bacon is poetic and spellniding. It was very difficult to put this down, something I rarely feel about a biography. My sweet dove, Don bought this book for me when I first moved to Chicago. This was a merciful grace to read when I was feeling displaced and freakish in a new city searching for my new comforts in my new corner of the world.

Peppiatt knew Francis Bacon quite well and the intimacy of knowing the inner workings of his subject is evident in every word of this book. This is not a dredgery of facts, but a refreshing emotive journey with Peppiatt, strolling through the life of one of the most significant painters of the 20th century, Francis Bacon.

The book is also true to its title … since Bacon is an absolute and true enigma, Peppiatt is not fearful to the reader of being confounded by this Modern genius, but instead gives us all enough to pick our own noodles and our own hearts regarding the moving and wrenching beauty of Bacon himself and his work.

This is THE Francis Bacon biography.

Pictured above is Francis Bacon and Michael Peppiatt

Linda Weintraub’s book about contemporary art and artists on the edge is a very  informative and enjoyable read. The writing often seems to be less than natural, but it isn’t textbooky, so that alone should make us all happy. Weintraub’s writing does show us she is having fun with the artists she is discussing, but sometimes this made my reading experience feel exclusionary.

Linda Weintraub has been a distinguished educator and curator for many years, and her experience with art in this book seems to be from these persepectives. she is educating, and looking at these artists as a curator. What is missing then in this formaula is the personal respeonse from the artists. She gives us hints of her response, but remians in the end an educator. Her talent in educating makes this a great book for anyone interested (and not sure where to begin!) in the world of contemporary art.

I am moving to Chicago on July 28th to begin my Masters in Modern Art History, Theory, and Criticism at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I will be moving to the Edgewater neighborhood very close to the beach … very exciting. My kitties are excited, too. And although I will miss Don (staying in Kalamazoo for now) and my friends terribly, I am so ecited to be moving into the art world again, submerged like a shipwreck of beautiful life.

I will also miss library work, especially work with young people, but it is time to move back into what I believe my purpose to pure contentment is — Art.There was a sweet article in the Vicksburg paper (with an old, horrible photo of me!I look better now that I am happy and medcicated!).

Don will be coming to visit most weekends … the kitties and I will miss him so! My parents are freaked but excited … so that is how I know this is the right thing. That is when parents have such a reaction, when their child is seriously truly becoming a contributor to the world. And I am confident I will be contributing art, poetry, and scholarly work — obsessively I am certain …

The art criticism book I am working on now discusses several contemporary women artists — Lisa Yusavage, Hilary Harkness, Marlene Dumas, and a couple others — still thinking. If any of you wonderful women are reading this — just in case you’re reading this — respond and let’s set up interview possibilities.

Goodbye, Michigan. Hello my urban orb …

Growing up in a nonreligious but somewhat spiritual family, denominations of severity were always intriguing to me. My friends in my predominantly Italian hometown of Youngstown, Ohio were catholics, sometimes taking me to their church, me inadvertently shocking them by taking communion without ever having been baptised. I did not know as a 13 year old nonreligious girl studying the world religions and philosophies for fun that taking communion as the heathen everyone saw me as was wrong … would I go to this hell place?

The Jehovah’s Witnesses were always something of deep mystery to me. It was as if they knew not to come to our porch,ring our doorbell, knowing perhaps that they would be greeeted with blank but intirgued stares and definitely not converts. As a teen girl, though, watching cute teenage boys in shortsleeve buttondowns, neckties, loafers, and pleated khakis was nice. And it didn’t surprise me that they didn’t talk to me, give me a glance, since no other boy in those torturous years did either. But I wanted them to bring me The Watchtower. Yeah, I really wanted that, their sweaty, peachfzz upper lips glistening in my eyes while they described my needing to be saved, be a part of them like breath so that I would not burn for eternity.

But I watched MTV with an addictive spirit, especially Headbanger’s Ball, Yo MTV Raps, and 120 Minutes as these shows were church … my religion … and that lovely Adam Curry was my god, preacher, and daily bread. These boys, like the little cocain-snorting blossoming bankers’ sons at school, wouldn’t like me either.

Abrahams’ book is touching, amazing, and laugh-at-high-decibal funny. My love Don was a bit ill at ease to hear me laughing hysterically in the airport, the airplane as we headed toward our Jamaican dreams.

And now as I read the macabre novel, Darkly Dreaming Dexter I sometimes wish to return to such a fun read with dark moments, yes (as is always a part of any intense religion), wanting to read it again to try to stave off my current night terrors. Last night, even with Don by my side, I dreamed of an elaborate plan of embalming live bodies, their shoes lined up like lozenges in a tin in the winter, everything so cold, hard, and wrong. Horribly wrong. And, as always, I was a reluctant partner in this darkness, unable to save myself or those surrounding me.

So, yes, a funny book … A GOOD THING! And this book’s got it ALL! And All … And all … Hallejueuh, amen!

This year’s Teen Summer Reading Club, Express Yourself @ Your Library will be my swan song. I am off to Chicago August 1st, thus leaving my position as Teen Services Librarian on Friday, July 24th. I will be attending beginning my studies for a Masters in Modern Art History, Theory, and Criticism at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. This change is exciting, bittersweet. I will greatly miss my teens at the library and my job in general. So, that said, with this year’s Summer Reading theme being art and expression, very timely.

The above picture is me, from the back facing what is supposed to be (at least conceptually) a museum wall — hence my kickoff program, “Fit for a Museum Self-Portraits.” I wish I could take the cred for this, but it was inspired by the current issue of Readymade magazine (April / May 2009). I want to share this because it is not only an inexpensive and fun craft (at least we are doing it on the cheap — old wallpaper, digital photos printed, and cardboard or small canvases to glue them to) that the teens will most likely enjoy …

Especially when you offer to scan them a JPG for their Facebook page!

It has been some time since I mourned the end of a novel, but I did so with Moody’s book, Hater. This book is very individual to Moody, but it is also a nod to end of the world storytelling and even a nod to the zombie narrative. This is NOT a zombie novel, but the permeating rage and blood thirst present in the book, especially the last half of it, conjured up zombie parallels, but Moody’s world is truly unique.

Hater shows us a world where hate is not only fast becoming the ruler of the day, but it seems to be a cycle that will never be broken.

The first half of the book follows the mundane life of the narrator whose head we will be inside of for the entire novel. The progression, the odd evolution even, of the winding down of life as we know it gives the novel a great pace, as well as a life span that captivated as it terrified me.

The sequel to Hater, entitled, Dog Blood, will be released in 2010.

Read more about Moody’s great unknown to author story and more at: http://www.djmoody.co.uk/

Caveat Emptor: I truly mean nothing horrible toward fallen drama students, rennies, and Monty Python enthusiasts in the following review:

Dear Fallen Drama Students, Rennie, and Monty Python Fans,

You will likely truly enjoy Christopher Moore’s new book, Fool. I have been waiting for this book for what feels like forever, but I could only make it halfway through and that was a bit disappointing. Let me first say, sometimes stereotypes are true. I have found fallen drama students, Rennies, and Monty Python fans to be three stereotypes that have more often than not turned out to be true in my experiences of them — that feeling of wanting to visibly grit my teeth when I hear say a fallen drama student turned Rennie quoting Monty Python in my face (and seemingly most often when I can least deal with such behavior) … this was my feeling in reading Moore’s Fool.

As much against my nature as it is to stop midway through a novel, especially a novel by a favorite author, I had to stop if I wanted to keep my teeth. And my sanity. I see this book being wildly successful with great reason, but like Monty Python, Rennies and fallen drama students screaming for the spotlight in the middle of the grocery store, I just end up feeling irritated and that I am missing a great joke everyone else seems to be getting. But also being a fan of Shakespeare’s King Lear I was excited to read Moore’s modern-day, crackpot version, but this aspect was either flat or trying too hard to be a homage / satire / modern take on the Shakespearean tragedy.

I wait anxiously for Mr. Moore’s next book.

The moment in current literature I have been waiting for … and haven’t we all? May we all learn some wonderful new colorful bad words from our Mr. Moore.

So in my capacity as Teen Services Librarian, I thought it would be fun to begin an embroidery club. But I had to learn myself! For years, I have wanted to learn to embroider and have looked at many, many how-to books and blogs and felt, frankly, uninspired and still fearing the needle. Until now. Jenny Hart’s book is absolutely heaven sent. The instructions for beginners are very easy to follow and the patterns are amazing! I just completed my sexy librarian embroidery and am working on some cat patterns and pinups. Hart’s books have great patterns … defiinitely hip and updated while still possessing the wonder of vintage embroidery. A warning — once you start, you may find it tough to stop. No cotton fabric is safe from my hoop and needle! And, dear friends, expect embroidered gifts by the droves! Kitties for you, Anna. Pinups and Librarians for you, Love … there is something for everyone!

For more info, go to Hart’s webpage: http://sublimestitching.com/

And buy the books … equipped with inspriation, easy how-to in engaging writing, and reusable iron-on patterns!

Have fun …! And good luck trying to stop!

My first piece:

Tea towels are on the list as well as a skirt of mine that needs a little creative love.