I don't often mention or think about theatre or TV or movies here - I watch too much of them to mention! and half at least are unspeakable - but finally caught up with the TRANSPARENT series this past month. It bedeviled and fascinated and puzzled me and energized me enough that I'm going to write a little about it.

Ostensibly about gender identity (the main protagonist, a father of three who decides in his late 60s to embrace his lifetime-closed identity as a woman), it morphs early and often - and ends - much an essay about indentity at large - particularly religious identity, and here mostly Judaism. 

The stunning (to me, at least - controversially received) Musicale Finale, a 90 minute one-off after four complete seasons, was almost all about Judaism, I think. I found the music to be delightful (if totally pop), the lyrics thoughtful and funny, and the production great. (The whole series was amazing to view, beautiful and colorful and deep). The series had to end abruptly, and without Jeffrey Tambor in the Finale, as he was fired from the production after the fourth season, following  accusations of sexual misconduct (harassment charges from trans members of the cast and production staff, ironically - he denied charges but admitted being difficult to work with).

The characters were what drove me crazy - each one completely self-centered, most very selfish (if comic). No one did a thing but worry about themselves really, throughout. But in the Musicale, the three kids don't do much - a host of non-central characters lead the parade. This was part of Slate's well-put review:

The Pfefferman children—Sarah (Amy Landecker), Josh (Jay Duplass), and Ally (Gaby Hoffmann), now nonbinary and going by the name Ari—have always been phenomenal talkers. Volatile need monsters who can only be safely interacted with through a protective screen, they unload their unruly feelings and abundant sexual energy on basically everyone with feverish, realistic linguistic verve. Highly emotional and narcissistic, with the same relationship to boundaries that kids learning to play soccer have to orange pylons—knock ’em over!—their verbal too-muchness, the never-any-small-talk mania with which they carry out their existence is so much of their charm. But the musical reduces them to non-native speakers.

The Light Years by Elizabeth Jane Howard

First volume of five, the Cazalet Chronicles. Enjoying it very much so far. Excellent control of shifiting points of view of all members of the Cazalet clan - and the hired help. Little daunted by the fact that there are four more, but only halfway through.

The Rolling Stones: The Biography by Bob Spitz

 

The Mouse That Roared by Leonard Wibberley

 

Having suffered through the lousy Peter Sellers movie treatment, I bought the book, which I remember reading in grade school with delight. Three chapters in, it's already much better than the film.

PostScript: the novel is charming and a real achievement. 

Let's go (so we can get back) : a memoir of recording and discording with Wilco, etc. by Jeff Tweedy

 

Okay for awhile, but didn't finish it. He's a fluent, conversational writer, but no really piercing insights.

The Keeper by Tana French

 

How to Write One Song by Jeff Tweedy

 

good but slight book - reads like a series of creative writing exercises, ballasted with philosophical rejoinders on the importance of creativity to the soul. Liked, didn't love.

The Land in Winter by Andrew Miller

 

Another slow-building marvel from Andrew Miller. Two couple live across a field from each other in an English village - one man is a doctor, one man is new farmer, both of their wives are pregnant and become friends, and the relationships intermesh and are poisoned as slowly as snow falls and as viciously as snow keeps falling.

Rat by Fernanda Eberstadt

 

Liked it okay - didn't love it - haven't kept up with Eberstadt since her groundbreaking ISAAC AND HIS DEVILS.

There is an emphasis on exotic locale - the south of France, in the Pyrénées Orientales - and exoctic character nationality - French, gypsy ish types - and the lifstyle is either in that bohemiand strain - or in a more conventional privileged London class.

But the character don't exactly leap off the page - and everyone is high-minded and culturally snobbish and artistically conversant. I'm such a bitch!

Love and Need: The Life of Robert Frost's Poetry by Adam Plunkett

 

Heavy explication of the poetry, with sparse surrounding details on Frost's biographical life (as much as is known). So far I'm very much enjoying the close readings of the early poems - Frost is a towering figure in American poetry and needs constant attention.

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

 

Delicious as usual. The episodic nature of the plot - how things develop separately, then come together in the end - is comic and old-fashioned, but deeply satisfying to me, at least, in my immature way.