May the May Authorial Force Be With You

Daphne du Maurier (Hans Wild/Time Life Pictures/Getty Images).

It’s May 31, so I think I’ll belatedly focus on fiction writers who were born this month!

Given that I read or reread three Daphne du Maurier novels (Rebecca, Jamaica Inn, and Frenchman’s Creek) during the past 31 days, I’ll start with that author. She was born on May 13, and lived from 1907 to 1989.

Now I’ll go chronologically by May birth date, listing only writers I’ve read at least something by:

May 1: Joseph Heller (1923-1999), who of course wrote the famous satirical antiwar novel Catch-22.

May 7: Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941), the renowned poet, novelist, playwright, painter, composer, etc.

May 8: Thomas Pynchon (1937-), the reclusive author of some pretty challenging postmodern fiction.

May 8: Peter Benchley (1940-2006). Jaws!

May 9: J.M. Barrie (1860-1937). Peter Pan!

May 9: Richard Adams (1920-2016). Watership Down!

May 11: Sheila Burnford (1918-1984). Author of the absorbing animal adventure The Incredible Journey.

May 11: Stanley Elkin (1930-1995). Author of satirical novels such as The Rabbi of Lud.

May 15: L. Frank Baum (1856-1919). The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!

May 15: Mikhail Bulgakov (1891-1940). Author of the fantastical The Master and Margarita.

May 17: Peter Hoeg (1957-). Smilla’s Sense of Snow, etc.

May 19: Nora Ephron (1941-2012). I haven’t read any of her books, but did watch several of the movies she wrote and/or directed — including When Harry Met Sally

May 19: Lorraine Hansberry (1930-1965). The acclaimed A Raisin in the Sun playwright.

May 20: Honore de Balzac (1799-1850). The prolific author of compelling novels such as Old Goriot and Eugenie Grandet.

May 22: Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930). Sherlock Holmes!

May 23: Margaret Wise Brown (1910-1952). Writer of the Goodnight Moon classic many parents have read to their children.

May 24: Michael Chabon (1963-). The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, etc.

May 25: W.P. Kinsella (1935-2016), whose books include the Shoeless Joe novel made into the movie Field of Dreams.

May 25: Jamaica Kincaid (1949-). Annie John, etc.

May 27: Herman Wouk (1915-2019). Wrote the riveting The Caine Mutiny, The Winds of War, and War and Remembrance, and the memorable Marjorie Morningstar.

May 27: Dashiell Hammett (1894-1961). Author of The Maltese Falcon novel starring iconic private eye Sam Spade.

May 27: Tony Hillerman (1925-2008). Best known for his mysteries featuring Native-American characters.

May 27: John Cheever (1912-1982). His “The Swimmer” short story remains amazing.

May 28: Walker Percy (1916-1990). Best known for his novel The Moviegoer and for helping John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces novel get published posthumously.

May 30: Colm Toibin (1955-). Author of the novels Brooklyn, The Master (a fictionalized take on Henry James), etc.

May 31: Walt Whitman (1819-1892). The highly influential poet.

Other May-born writers I didn’t mention? Any thoughts on the ones I did mention?

Misty the cat says: “I’d be taller than this tree if I puffed out my fur.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which criticizes the ending of Stephen Colbert’s late-night show (he lives in my town) — is here.

Adept at Avoiding Accountability, in Real Life and Fiction

Has-no-integrity Donald Trump and has-integrity Thomas Massie.

U.S. President Donald Trump gets away with SO much:

— The repugnant Republican is mentioned more than 38,000 times in The Epstein Files (named after perhaps the worst pedophile/sex trafficker in American history), yet Trump has never suffered any consequences for that. He even sufficiently maligned Congressman Thomas Massie, one of the VERY few fellow Republicans seeking justice for the Epstein survivors, to get him defeated in a reelection bid this past week.

— Also, the draft-dodger-as-a-youth Trump claimed he would be a “peace president” but bombs innocent Venezuelans in fishing boats and, with Israel, started the unnecessary war of choice against Iran that included the U.S. bombing of a girls’ school that killed more than 150 students. Meanwhile, millions of Trump’s supposedly anti-war supporters continued their cultish behavior by suddenly becoming gung-ho for American aggression.

— Also, there is Trump’s breathtakingly rampant presidential corruption and self-enrichment that has amassed him billions of dollars, but he’ll probably never see the inside of a jail cell.

— Also, Trump of course falsely claimed he won the 2020 presidential election and then encouraged his supporters to storm the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, yet got back in the White House four years later.

— Etc., etc.

How does the fascist/racist/misogynistic/homophobic/anti-poor/lying Trump avoid accountability? For one thing, he “floods the zone” with distractions, as when attacking Iran moved the news cycle away from the Epstein scandal. In addition, Trump is rich, white, and male; he has a perverse charisma; he and his supporters threaten violence against all who cross him; most Republicans in Congress cravenly go along with almost everything he does; six of the nine U.S. Supreme Court justices are in his pocket; and so on.

I tried to think of fictional characters, whether villainous or not, who are like Trump in terms of fully or partly getting away with things. Doesn’t seem to happen super-often in literature — many novels offer the moral lesson and fantasy wish-fulfillment of problematic people getting their just desserts — but it happens. Being wealthy (like Trump) helps. Being smart (unlike Trump) also helps. Being good-looking helps, too. And being lucky can’t be ignored.

Here are some examples, with details hopefully kept fuzzy enough to avoid too much in spoilers:

Sue Grafton’s alphabet mystery V Is for Vengeance, which I read last week, includes a Mafioso-like character who’s not totally evil yet definitely no Mr. Rogers. But he’s smart enough and a good enough planner to evade legal consequences.

Amoral con man Tom Ripley of Patricia Highsmith’s novels has some close calls, but virtually always gets away with things. He is…talented, to quote the title of The Talented Mr. Ripley — the first book in the series.

The psychopathic killer in Cormac McCarthy’s bleak No Country for Old Men is injured when hit by a car but that’s the most “justice” he faces.

Daphne du Maurier’s mesmerizing novel Rebecca includes a major character who kills someone but never gets charged. Wealth, status, secretiveness, luck, and extenuating circumstances don’t hurt.

The evil/dictatorial Big Brother (whether one person or many) in Nineteen Eighty-Four retains complete power at the end of George Orwell’s iconic dystopian novel.

No one is criminally punished in Donna Tartt’s debut novel The Secret History, but, as is sometimes the case in situations like that, there’s some guilt and suffering for the perpetrators.

Raskolnikov, the somewhat-sympathetic murderer in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s classic Crime and Punishment, does the crime and gets the punishment, but that punishment — while not nothing — is relatively lenient.

The caddish George Wickham faces consequences of a sort in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, but he certainly deserved more of a comeuppance.

Your thoughts about, and examples of, this topic?

Misty the cat asks: “Is that STOP sign written by Shakespeare or Cervantes?”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which has an environmental theme — is here.

Remote Isn’t Just What Turns On Your TV

The Isle of Lewis (© Manel Vinuesa).

Novels with remote settings can be highly populated with elements fascinating to readers. Challenging weather. Lonely characters. Intense interactions between a relatively small number of people. Heightened danger because of the remoteness. And more.

The Blackhouse and its first sequel The Lewis Man, two riveting Peter May novels I read this month, mostly unfold on the isolated Isle of Lewis off Scotland. This setting gives the books lots of atmosphere amid murders and interesting (at times pathological) relationships between various three-dimensional characters.

I also recently read Frenchman’s Creek by Daphne du Maurier, who uses a remote setting as a backdrop to an intriguing love affair between a dissatisfied upper-class woman and a charismatic pirate.

Pirates have ships, of course, and many novels with remote settings unfold on boats, islands, or other isolated places near water. Among the examples I’ve read are Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe (obviously), Edgar Allan Poe’s The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket (which chronicles a surreal journey to the South Pole), Herman Melville’s Typee (whose escapee sailor protagonist enjoys Polynesian island life), and Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo (a key part of which is set on a prison island off Marseille).

Also: Aldous Huxley’s Island (as utopian as that author’s Brave New World is dystopian), Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None (murders on an island), Yann Martel’s Life of Pi (boy and tiger overboard), Martin Cruz Smith’s Polar Star (the ship-set first sequel to Gorky Park), M.L. Stedman’s The Light Between Oceans (about the troubled life of a married couple on an island off Australia), and Peter Hoeg’s Smilla’s Sense of Snow (partly set on an island off Greenland).

Other remote locales in fiction can be mostly on land — including Canada’s Yukon wilderness in Jack London’s The Call of the Wild, the Alaskan wilderness in Kristin Hannah’s The Great Alone, the New York State wilderness in James Fenimore Cooper’s The Deerslayer, the Siberian wilderness in Louis L’Amour’s Last of the Breed, and the African desert in J.M.G. Le Clezio’s Desert and Paul Bowles’ The Sheltering Sky.

There’s also the bleak end-of-the-world landscape in the concluding pages of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, and of course lonely settings in many sci-fi novels — such as Andy Weir’s The Martian and Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Your thoughts on this topic (which I also covered, in a partly different way, seven years ago) — including your favorite fiction with remote locales?

Misty the cat says: “My back legs and gasoline prices are both up.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which discusses a welcome downzoning decision in my town — is here.

The Return of the Educators

On the way to Boston this past Friday, May 8, from New Jersey. (Photo by me.) Unsurprisingly, we were behind a car with Massachusetts plates…I think.

My wife Laurel and I were in Boston the past couple days picking up our younger daughter Maria from her first year of college, meaning I didn’t have a lot of time to write. Because of that, I figured I’d rerun a post…and it seemed appropriate to have that literature piece be about educators — whether professors or teachers of younger students. But I’ve done several posts over the years featuring fictional (and actual) educators, so I decided to reference all of them.

In 2023, I discussed real-life authors who also are or were professors.

“And why not?,” I wrote back then. “Teaching uses different creative muscles, is a source of additional income (not all well-known novelists are rich), gets authors away from their solitary writing desks into some semblance of the real world, enables them to help budding writers, gives them insight into what young people are thinking, etc. Perhaps their teaching also indirectly infuses their own writing, or even directly if a book they pen has an academic setting. On the other hand, teaching time does take away from writing time.”

I added, “In some cases, dual-duty authors were professors who later became novelists. But perhaps in more cases, they first gained some renown as novelists — after which universities came a-calling.”

The living and deceased authors/professors I named in that 2023 post included Jhumpa Lahiri (Barnard College); Toni Morrison (Princeton University, Rutgers University, etc.); Joyce Carol Oates (Princeton, University of California, Berkeley); Jeffrey Eugenides (Princeton, New York University); Zadie Smith (also NYU); Viet Thanh Nguyen (University of Southern California); Junot Diaz (Massachusetts Institute of Technology); Kent Haruf (Nebraska Wesleyan University); Vladimir Nabokov (Wellesley College, Cornell University); and J.R.R. Tolkien (University of Oxford).

In 2021, 2015, and 2012 posts (the earliest one for The Huffington Post two years before this blog’s 2014 launch), I discussed fictional educators. Many who are as smart, hardworking, and compassionate as some of our favorite real-life teachers we might fondly recall when reading about fictional ones.

Literature’s memorable educators include — among others — Anne Shirley in Anne of Avonlea, the first sequel to L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables; Charles Chipping of James Hilton’s Goodbye, Mr. Chips; Ricky Braithwaite of E.R. Braithwaite’s autobiographical novel To Sir, With Love; Dan Needham of John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany; and Jane Eyre, briefly a teacher in Charlotte Bronte’s novel after that character spent a longer time as a teacher of another sort: being a governess.

Children’s fiction also has some great teachers — with one I mentioned in a previous post being Ms. Frizzle of The Magic School Bus books written by Joanna Cole and illustrated by Bruce Degen.

Of course, not all teachers are terrific and/or admirable. In past posts I cited the bumbling Gilderoy Lockhart of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series; the charismatic but fascist-leaning title character in Muriel Spark’s The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie; the means-well-but-overwhelmed Ida Ramundo of Elsa Morante’s novel History; and the comedic-but-a-bit-irresponsible Aimee Lanthenay of Colette’s Claudine at School.

When previously naming fictional professors, I noted that a number of them are quirky — which obviously can make for interesting reading. I added: “There can be drama in their interactions with students, in their competitive relationships with fellow profs, in their sometimes-fraught encounters with university administrators, in their quests for tenure, and in the whole publish-or-perish thing. All that makes up for the fact they are (usually) not the heroic, adventurous sorts who can make readers turn pages faster than tuition payments drain a bank account.”

Among literature’s other fictional profs are Howard Belsey and Monty Kipps of Zadie Smith’s On Beauty; Gauri Mitra of Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Lowland; William Stoner of John Williams’ Stoner; Virginia “Vinnie” Miner and Fred Turner of Alison Lurie’s Foreign Affairs; Tony Fremont (a woman) of Margaret Atwood’s The Robber Bride; Humphrey Clark of Margaret Drabble’s The Sea Lady; Grady Tripp of Michael Chabon’s Wonder Boys; and Godfrey St. Peter of Willa Cather’s The Professor’s House.

I asked this before in previous posts on this topic, but you’re welcome to again name some of your favorite fictional educators.

Happy Mother’s Day to my wife Laurel, who is…a professor. 🙂 This photo of her was taken last month in New York City.

Misty the cat says: “My teen human is home from college, so I sleep extra in celebration.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which discusses my town’s grim school budget and more — is here.

1930s Novels Remind Us of Today

From The Grapes of Wrath movie. (20th Century Fox/Getty Images.)

After mentioning Daphne du Maurier’s great 1938 novel Rebecca in last week’s post about Gothic fiction, I thought of other books from that decade and how those years were a significant time in literature as well as quite relevant to the 2020s. After all, both decades had/have war, a rise in authoritarianism, major economic problems, and more.

So, I’m going to discuss a number of novels I’ve read, and a few I haven’t, that were published in the 1930s.

One that immediately came to mind is John Steinbeck’s 1939 classic The Grapes of Wrath, which focused on the Joad family but also took a wider look at the impact of The Great Depression bedeviling the U.S (and most of the world) that decade.

Steinbeck also wrote other notable 1930s novels — including Tortilla Flat (1935), In Dubious Battle (1936), and Of Mice and Men (1937) — that reflected social conditions. In Dubious Battle focused on a strike, fitting for a decade when labor flexed its muscles.

It Can’t Happen Here (1935) is a dystopian Sinclair Lewis novel imagining the rise of fascism in the U.S. — making it almost a primer for current dictator wannabe Donald Trump. (Although Trump is notoriously known for not reading books.)

War? Two of Erich Maria Remarque’s lesser-known novels: The Road Back (1931) and Three Comrades (1936) — have World War I elements. (The Road Back was a sequel of sorts to Remarque’s 1929-published All Quiet on the Western Front.) The American Civil War is a backdrop to Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind (1936). And Dalton Trumbo’s Johnny Got His Gun (1939) makes a powerful antiwar statement.

The 1930s were also significant writing years for William Faulkner: As I Lay Dying (1930), about a family and its journey to bury their matriarch; Light in August (1932), whose characters include a multiracial (?) drifter; and other works.

Then there was the 1934 publication of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s perhaps second-best novel, the semi-autobiographical Tender Is the Night.

Three years later, Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937) featured the memorable experiences of protagonist Janie Crawford.

That decade’s other notable book releases included — to name just a few — Mildred Benson’s The Secret of the Old Clock (1930), the first Nancy Drew mystery; Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon (1930), featuring private investigator Sam Spade; Dorothy L. Sayers’ Strong Poison (1930), with mystery writer Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey; Pearl S. Buck’s China-set classic The Good Earth (1931); Aldous Huxley’s dystopian classic Brave New World (1932); and Erskine Caldwell’s Tobacco Road (1932).

Also: James Hilton’s Lost Horizon (1933), set in a mythical paradise; Daphne du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn (1936), which was also mentioned in last week’s blog post about Gothic fiction; Ernest Hemingway’s To Have and Have Not (1937), starring a fishing captain; J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit (1937), the fantasy novel that became the prequel to the 1950s-published The Lord of the Rings trilogy; Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ The Yearling (1938), about a boy and his fawn; Agatha Christie’s mystery And Then There Were None (1939); and Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep (1939), starring sleuth Philip Marlowe.

While writing this, I remembered that I had done a 2023 piece focusing on novels published in 1937. But the other years in that decade were not included in that post. 🙂

My list of 1930s novels is of course incomplete. Your favorites from that decade, whether mentioned by me or not?

Misty the cat says: “I own all this land, but where did I put the deed?”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which has a literature theme connected to local news in my town — is here.