I was planning to tell you more about Reynolds Price, whose memoir,
Ardent Spirits
(Scribner, 2009, 416pp), I found interesting but somewhat depressing or
sad, especially the second half. As many gay men of his generation he
never found a fulfilling intimate relationship. Or so it seems.
I
also wanted to tell you about Jon Loomis who recently published his
second mystery novel featuring Frank Coffin, the Provincetown maverick
detective. I found his first novel,
High Season, promising.
Mating Season
(Minotaur Books, 2009, 304p) the second installement, is as well
written as the first, but lacks something, I don't know what, to strike
a chord. Maybe it's just the Auther's Note, which precedes the novel:
This
book is a work of imagination set in a real but 'fictionalized' place.
Some of the locations are actual; many are inventions, adaptations, or
amalgamations. (...) I've taken liberties, too, with elements of
Provincetown's history, politics, and economy - none of which is as
simple as I've made them out to be - for the sake of getting on with
the story.
I would have liked, at least, to have the
illusion of following his characters in the real Provincetown, and
learn more about such a fascinating place. To make things worse, some
of the protagonists talk about 'P'town,' a nickname the locals are not
supposed to use...
The last two pages of the novel, though, are
hilarious. Kotowski, Coffin's old friend, an old gay artist who has
recently met some financial success by making paintings of famous
Republican politicians (think of Bush, Palin, Cheyney) in awkward
settings, starts:
'You're an optimist. I can't take you seriously.'
'I am not an optimist,' Coffin said.
Of course you are,' Kotowski said. 'Otherwise you wouldn't be trying to
have a kid. I mean, my god - you've got global warming, economic
collapse, war everywhere you look, bird flu, energy shortages, food
shortages, that crazy particle accelerator in France, the honeybees
dying off - you know what Einstein said, right?'
'Particle accelerator? What particle accelerator?'
'He said that if the honeybees all die, humans pretty much go extinct in four years. Four years!'
'What particle accelerator?'
'But there you are - being a freaking mammal like everything's just fine. How can you say you're not an optimist?'
Coffin raised an eyebrow.
'Jesus,' Kotowski said. 'You're relentless - no wonder you're good at
being a cop. There's a new particle accelerator under the French Alps
that's seventeen fucking miles long. If the guys who are running it
aren't careful, they could produce a black hole that'll destroy the
planet.'
'Oh,' Coffin said. 'Let's go outside and have a smoke.'
'Oh?' Kotowski said. 'Oh? A bunch of French physicists might accidentally generate a killer black hole under the freaking Alps and all you can say is oh?'
'What do you want me to say?' Coffin said, pulling Kotowski outside by his shirt.
'Well, some expression of concern would be nice,' Kotowski said. They
stood in the sculpture garden, in the long shadow of a tall abstract
bronze.
Coffin lit a cigarette and offered the pack to Kotowski. 'Okay,' he said. 'I'am concerned. Happy now?'
'Reasonably content,' Kotowski said, puffing at his cigarette, 'More of less. For the moment.'
A fat skunk waddled across Commercial Street, ignoring them. The Long
Point foghorn skwonked, even though there was no fog. Coffin looked up
at the night sky. The stars were in sharp focus: Big Dipper, Orion's
belt. A meteor blazed and then winked out above the Pilgrim Monument. A
good sign, a dark omen. 'Well,' Coffin said, 'you can't ask for more
than that.'
I wanted to tell you about all that, but I started to read, this sunny and warm afternoon,
Giants - The Parallel Lives of Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln
by John Stauffer, and was not able to pause. I have not finished it,
but it seems to be a great book. More about it next week...
2009.08.16
