Note: I intended to post this over the weekend, but I got sick (again! but it's just a cold this time) and then it was my sister's birthday, which meant hours were spent laughing at how poorly I frosted the cake. (in my defense, the cake was still warm and nobody told me to turn the bottom layer upside down so the flat side was up. It was destined to slide all over the place! I had to use 400 skewers to hold it together. It tasted really good, but I can't take any credit for that since my only job was to apply frosting.) In other extremely relevant news, as I was heading to the cupboard that holds things like tylenol, I was thinking, "oh, I feel lousy" and the song
Oh Sheila got stuck in my head. You're welcome.
And now back to the previously scheduled program already in progress:
MICHAEL CHABON ON BEING A DUDE
And so it came to pass that sister Bec and I met up with Anonymous T in the Pearl Room at Powell's, waiting for Michael Chabon to read from his new book:
Manhood for Amateurs: The Pleasures and Regrets of a Husband, Father, and Son. It was so crowded. It was crowded
last time, but this time was even worse. I didn't even get to lean against my favorite shelves of architecture books and had to stand in the middle of the room off to the side, which is better described as in the middle of the mob. There were two tall bald guys standing in front of me (like twins, except one was sloppy sporty guy with wraparound skull stubble, and the other was a gleamingly bald pointily shod metrosexual) and 4 little hipster girls so weak from the burden of their lace tights and flapper pearl necklaces they had to SIT ON THE FLOOR behind me, which meant they were always in danger of being trampled by people who thought there was an empty spot, which meant I kept paying more attention to hoping no one trampled them than I would have if they had managed to prop themselves up somehow. (maybe they could have formed a little teepee with their backs together! I will draw up some diagrams and make a zine.)
Anyway! it was crowded. We had a nice time chatting while the room got hotter and louder and more and more full. I had a strange moment where I realized that at least half the crowd looked familiar, which I lay at the feet of general delirium, or to working all over for the library in a book nerd town.
The Powell's guy with the ponytail wended his way through the crowd to give an introduction from the podium. There were surprised people popping out of the elevator every few minutes. They would step out expecting to see the Pearl Room as they know it, and instead were met by hundreds of eyes. (Now I wish it were eyes in a jar which would be even more disturbing, but it was just plain old eyeballs in eyesockets attached to mostly regular, alive, non-zombie human beings.) Another surprised person, this one bearded, in good humor, and being Michael Chabon stepped out of the elevator or appeared from a trapdoor in the floor and made his way to the front.
He started with a couple of jokes about the temperature and the crowd. Someone shouted out a question right away. I don't remember and my notes don't say whether or not he did his whole F.A.Q. session before he read or after, but I'm going to pretend that it was at least partly before. So, YES, the Coen brothers are adapting the Yiddish Policeman's Union, although he doesn't know exactly where they are in the process since they keep coming out with new movies. (Josie and the Pussycats 2 joke here!) As for the F. of the A.Q., no kidding! So many of the questions were almost verbatim from the last time I saw him read two years ago. (Yes, he liked the Wonder Boys movie. No, he doesn't know what's going on with a Kavalier and Clay movie except that they were just on the verge of filming until suddenly they weren't. This was years ago. subtext: it would be nice but don't hold your breath.)
He read two pieces from his new collection. The first one was about escaping "the cruel code of the wallet" by adapting the Man Purse (aka: Murse). It was funny, sharp, and self-depricating. The second was about The Future as he experienced it in his childhood and how he regrets that his kids can't experience it in the same way. They were both good; I look forward to reading them in the context of the rest of the book.
After the reading, there were more questions. Do you still read comics? (yes.) He views novel writing as a "legal excuse" to do stuff he's interested in. (like reading comics.) Someone asked him for a murse critique by holding up a bag, which Chabon slagged with good humor: "what is that? an NPR tote? I don't think you're even trying.") There were questions about his recently ended column for Details Magazine (I didn't know it existed) and questions about Fountain City, which was the novel he abandoned before writing Wonder Boys. (I liked the essay in Maps and Legends about that particular process.)
Speaking of charity (he's done a lot of work for the
826 organization), he asked, "why no 826 pdx? it seems like a natural fit. All you have to do is call them up and tell them you want one, they'd do it!" Someone from the crowd shouted out something about
Write Around Portland, to which Chabon replied "ahh, it's hostile territory!" (the true story, as Dave Eggers explained it in wordstock year 1, is that there's already a similar program in
Community of Writers and they don't want to step on any toes.)
End of the In Person Chabon Experience for 2009. (final judgement: as always, he seems like a really decent guy. Smart, funny, confident, questioning, kind.) We didn't stay to get anything signed, but we weren't ready to leave yet either. Thus began the wandering. If you ever find yourself at Powells, I really recommend putting the map away and just having yourself a nice wander.
JOSEPHUS X has sold out!!!
Oh teen detectives, how I love your cover art. Speaking of teen detectives, have you seen Kate Beaton's recurring Mystery Solving Teens? They crack me up! (
Mystery Solving Teens and
Mystery Solving Teens Mystery)
Nancy Drew solves mysteries, uncovers secrets, finds staircases.
WHAT HAPPENED, JOE HARDY???? Is the peg-legged sailor wielding that anchor trying to steal your Murse?