Friday, July 31, 2020

A little book report about Bernard Malamud's The Natural

This post is about The Natural, a book that--after seeing the movie--it only took me 36 years to get to.
Do I need to write a synopsis of the plot? Should everyone know about it by now? If not, here you go: young talented baseball pitcher Roy Hobbs is on a train to Chicago for a tryout with the Cubs. Once he arrives in Chicago, he is seriously injured in a tragic event (no spoilers). Fifteen years later, having bounced around and somewhat rebuilt his life and reclaimed his baseball talent, Roy is called up by the fictional New York Knights. Stuff happens: some great, some bad. (Once again, no spoilers).

I had always heard that The Natural (the book) was quite different from movie version, and this is definitely true.  

The book is darker—much darker than the movie. Roy Hobbs is, well, kind of a jerk. Not always a jerk, but frequently a jerk. (Far from the heroic version played by Robert Redford in the movie). Hobbs is certainly a bit clueless. Overly swayed by women who are shallow and/or mentally ill. (And yes, I agree with people who have noted that the female characters in the book are fairly one-note). Roy’s worst moment is when he reads a letter sent to him by one of his love interests, Iris Lemon. In the letter she explains in painfully honest detail the struggles she faced as a young mother—but once Roy is reminded that Iris’ daughter had a child—making Iris a grandmother—Roy tears up the letter and throws it away. Dick move, bro.).

Most of the characters in the book are disagreeable to just plain unlikeable. There are some exceptions. Pop Fisher (the Knights manager) is a good guy just trying the best he can, aware that he is not a great baseball manager. All he wants is to win the pennant once, and then retire as a gentleman farmer.

Red Blow (where did Malamud come up with these names?) is a coach on the team who takes Hobbs under his wing and offers sage advice.

There is only one “good” woman in the book, the aforementioned Iris Lemon. Unlike Memo Paris, Pop’s niece whom Roy pines after, Iris actually cares about Roy. She’s also the only one to understand him and not afraid to call out his bullshit. Unfortunately, Roy can’t get over the fact that Iris is a grandmother (albeit a young grandmother). Late in the book it is revealed that Roy got Iris pregnant when they had a romantic rendezvous on a beach at Lake Michigan. It is implied that perhaps Roy will finally come to his senses and make a life with Iris, but the book’s rather abrupt ending never brings any closure to the Roy/Iris relationship. (Anyone who has seen the movie knows that its ending is completely different from the book—and it is obvious that Roy and Iris do end up together).

Perhaps my problem with Roy is really MY problem and not Roy’s. As I already mentioned, it took me 36 years to get around to reading the book, so inevitably I compare the Roy of the book to the Roy of the movie, and of course the Roy of the book will come up lacking. He is not the pure handsome hero as portrayed by Redford, and that is entirely the point of Malamud’s book.

All of these observations are about The Natural as a story, and I have not looked at the allegorical aspect of the book, which I suppose is about the illusory nature of the American Dream and all that high falootin’ jazz.
I enjoyed the book and am happy that I finally read it. Baseball fiction is not easy to do well. Up to this point, The Celebrant (Eric Rolfe Greenberg) and Shoeless Joe (W.P. Kinsella) were the two best I'd read in the genre. (I have yet to read Bang the Drum Slowly, but I should some day). The Natural easily reaches the level of those books as good baseball fiction. As a novel, it's good, but falls well short of greatness. (Quite frankly, the writing is a little clunky at times). However, if anyone reading this is a baseball fan and has not given The Natural a try, I encourage you to crack it open.

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

GTO: Great Teacher Onizuka

 
I thought I'd take some time off from political ranting to talk about one of the benefits of this pandemic, which is my older son exposing me to and teaching me the pleasure of anime.
 
I have already written a little bit about One Piece in here, now I'll talk a bit about Great Teacher Onizuka. It's a show that ran from 1999-2000 and focuses on 22-year-old Eikichi Onizuka. Onizuka is a bleach-blond former gang member who is trying to get on the straight-and-narrow by becoming a middle school teacher at an elite private school. The trouble is Onizuka is preternaturally incapable of being anywhere near the straight-and-narrow. Much of the bizarre humor of the show derives from Onizuka being a 22-year-old horn dog virgin (yes, virgin!) with, shall we say, "unorthodox" methods of dealing with his students.
 
The humor of the show is often cringe worthy, since Onizuka is attracted to the female students he is supposed to be teaching. (In my recent manga/anime education, I have discovered that this is a common trope). If this makes it a bit more acceptable (and less gross), Onizuka's predilection towards the girls is not portrayed as cool, and in fact usually gets Onizuka in comically ridiculous trouble.
 
The show is a comedy with occasional dark edges. Much humor is derived from Onizuka attending a third-rate college, his overly familiar relationships (but NOT sexual, even though the show consistently pokes the boundaries of good taste without going over the edge) with his students, and the hard-assed assistant principal who can't stand Onizuka and constantly threatens to fire him. Despite Onizuka's unconventional approach to education, he manages to get enough positive results to gain respect from the students and keep his job at the school.
 
I am not saying anything you can't learn from the Great Teacher Onizuka Wikipedia entry, so let me just say that I enjoy this show. Sure, some of the humor leaves me thinking, "Oh did he actually DO that!? Should I REALLY be laughing at that?!" The humor is just so outlandish, though, that I enjoy it. I have also grown to appreciate the exaggerated, surrealistic facial expressions that anime characters have when they are anguished. When Onizuka (or really, any character) is angry, his eyes become bloodshot and his mouth twists into a grimace.
 
I won't pretend to know everything (or anything) about Japanese culture, but the show strikes me as commentary on class differences and the intense competitiveness of Japanese schools. (The horror of Japanese schools is also a common trope of anime/manga).
 
The opening credits of Great Teacher Onizuka are outstanding. The first shot is of a toilet flushing and the sound of a motorcycle revving up. Everything is in black and white. After the toilet flushes, a tipsy and probably hungover and nude Onizuka teeters out of his bathroom, cigarette dangling from his mouth. The next shots are of a cocky looking Onizuka sauntering down the street while shaking a can of spray paint. We later see him standing next to a tag he sprayed with a pile of paint cans on the sidewalk. Later, he is seen painting a bull's eye on his stomach and then shoots his reflection in a mirror. In a minute and a half, Onizuka's character is presented to the viewer: cocky and a just a little arrogant, prone to over indulgence, but also with more than a tinge of self-loathing.
 
Great Teacher Onizuka is a fascinating show, and if you have any interest in anime, check it out.
 
 

Friday, July 17, 2020

Friday musings

The world continues to be a crazy place. Here are some musings I have had recently:
 
If you think that the whole ridiculous politicization of masks is bad, just wait until the day we (I hope) have a vaccine for COVID-19. There will be plenty of people who will not want to get it, and they will largely be the same people who refuse to wear a mask. And think of how crazy the battle has been over opening schools in the fall. How will we deal with vaccinating kids for the virus? Will children not be allowed in public schools unless they are vaccinated. (I limit this to public schools because presumably private schools will be able to do as they wish). Considering how terrible our health insurance is in the United States, what happens with coverage of a vaccine? I hope that children will be able obtain a vaccine either free of charge or for a limited cost.
 
I feel particularly bad for my older son, who was hoping to attend college in Germany beginning in the 2020-21 school year, and to be with his girlfriend in Germany. Due to coronavirus, and Americans rightfully viewed as toxic by the rest of the world, this is on hold. But this whole situation just piles on to the guilt I feel for having children during what I had no idea--back in the early aughts--would be such a terrible time to be alive. Nine days after the birth of our older son, 9/11 took place. Four years later, we had our younger son, but I don't know that we were considering the state of the world. By 2004, we had just settled into a life of far off wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and the mild daily irritation provided by President George W. Bush. Then, eight years of Obama in office gave us (cough--white people--cough) the misguided and naïve belief that we had entered a warm fuzzy post-racial world.
 
I the immediate future, the U.S. has to deal with how we will teach our children in the fall, and no solution is a perfect solution. If our younger son's school does on-line learning, the hard part will be actually getting him to DO the work. Even though my wife may be working from home at that time, she is too busy to be checking on his progress throughout the day. Thankfully, he is a sophomore in high school and shouldn't (in theory) need constant prodding. However, as we discovered in the final few months of the 2019-2020 school year--in which younger son was at home--he didn't exactly apply himself that much. Who am I kidding, he essentially blew off the end of the school year. So, I have no idea how this will work. I have even less of an idea how this will work for parents of young children--particularly parents who cannot work from home. The whole situation is a mess.
 
The entire world is a mess.

Monday, July 6, 2020

A strange Fourth of July

I don't like the Fourth of July under normal circumstances, but this year it was particularly depressing. But hey, at least I didn't have to go to any annoying fireworks display, dealing with mobs of irritating people. I just had to listen to people in my neighborhood blowing stuff up until midnight--though it sounds like I had it better than others in my area, who had amateur fireworks making noise until 1:30 AM. It was a strange Independence Day overall. The only "normal" part of it was grilling burgers and hot dogs. In any event, that is about as close to the typical form of celebration I ever choose to do on the Fourth of July.
 
If I ever go to a fireworks display, it is out of a sense of obligation. I enjoy the visual display of professional fireworks (though they are pretty much all the same) but the worst part of them is getting there, dealing with mobs of annoying people, and then trying to get the hell out when it's over. At least I didn't have to deal with that this year.
 
Watching Hamilton on Disney+ was as close to "patriotic" as I got this Fourth, and even that was slightly depressing. There was actually a degree of optimism in the country when Hamilton debuted in the mid-teens, and has all but disappeared in 2020. Still, despite the tinge of sadness, I enjoyed viewing Hamilton and became quite emotional throughout the entire broadcast. Part of that is from the story itself (I mean, who doesn't get choked up when--spoiler alert--the Hamiltons' son dies?) and just the enthusiastic, positive exuberance of the whole affair. It's a flame that is currently virtually extinguished in the United States. Perhaps it's still flickering with the Black Lives Matter protests. Maybe the the young people in our country are throwing kindling on the flame right now. I sure hope so.