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by Zori3
haven't enjoyed every book I've read by him, but Operation Shylock won me over as a fan. His most recent novel is The Plot
Against America (Houghton Mifflinantisemitism represents Roth at his finest.
Taking place in the WWII era, a young Philip Roth and his family live in a New Jersey Jewish community, while debate is
mounting as to whether or not the United States should enter the "European" war. The election of 1940 approaches, and
Roosevelt runs for a third term against surprise opponent Charles Lindbergh. Riding on fame won from solo flights across the
Atlantic (as well as the abduction of his infant son), Lindbergh uses his flying prowess, charming good looks, and simplistic
breakdown of complicated events to win the hearts of Americans. He sweeps the election and develops a treaty with Germany,
ushering American society into an era of isolationism, fascism, and antisemitism.
Part of what makes this novel work is Roth's apparent understanding of what makes a memoir work: clear description of
historical events and the sociological environment outside of the "I", coupled with the development of intimacy thanks to the
revealing insights and eccentricities of a compelling, brutally honest narrator. Young Philip Roth (who is 7 in this book) deals
with ever-increasing anxiety about the war as he unearths information by listening to the ranting of his father and his brother
Sandy, by sneaking into movies, and by mentally recording the increasingly desperate exchanges between adults in the
street. His appreciation for FDR is not a result of his comprehensive understanding of the New Deal, but a result of their
mutual love of stamp collecting. The use of the child narrator allows for a more honest interpretation of the events, and for
several moments of laugh-out-loud humor at the pants-wetting, head-shaking humiliation most children inevitably suffer at that
age.
It's difficult to discuss this book without revealing too much. The narrative moves quickly and the dialogue is sharp and
spot-on. Each character reveals him or herself through words and actions--and I love when authors don't feel compelled to tell
us what they can show. These characters are flawed, human, hilarious and hopelessly intertwined with politics, providing a
seamless example of the thousand ways in which the personal IS political. Roth's alternative history is based on enough
legitimate fact that the possibilities he suggests are more than worth considering, and Plot is a fine tool for forcing one to
re-examine the influence the current presidential regime.
If there's no other reason to read The Plot Against America, read it for the ending. In a world of "death for easy emotional
reaction" Hollywood curtain-bowing, a world of literary cancers and lost limbs, of pinning for the lost long ago and singing for
your supper, finally (finally!) someone has produced an original shotgun-blast of an ending. By the conclusion of this book I
was invigorated that Philip Roth has offered such an awesome example of what one can do with fiction. It's nearly impossible
to read Plot without learning a thing or two about writing and the tools required to craft a fine novel--and to remember why
people love reading in the first place.
Join the waiting list at your local library, or click one of the links to the right to buy!
A Review by Amanda, ZORI3
his mug every time he manages to locate something uniquely depraved in the always-overloaded world of the web. “Want to
see something awesome?” he asked.
I considered what previous “yes” answers had allowed me to see: Japanese vomit porn. Nose porn. A girl getting a Brazilian
bikini wax. A guy in a banana suit setting himself on fire. Something illegal involving a horse and an actress who couldn’t have
been getting paid enough. I said: “Okay.”
What my friend had discovered was the now infamous South Park version of the Aristocrats joke. As Cartman took the joke
to increasingly horrifying levels of offense, I looked at my friend (who was already in hysterics, rocking back and forth
clapping his hands) in open-mouthed horror, and then burst out laughing...then we watched it about a hundred more times…
A small amount of Internet research led to the following discoveries: a.) this was part of a documentary in production about a
joke that has been passed toilet-torch through the comedy underground since forever b.) Penn and Teller are behind it, and
c.) the South Park joke was easy on the stomach compared to some of the other show stoppers. I couldn’t wait.
The idea behind The Aristocrats joke is that every telling must begin with “A family walks into a talent agency…” and end
with the punchline, “the Aristocrats!” (hand gesture optional), with the most revolting collection of images you can conjure
occupying the body. Feces, semen, fisting, bestiality, incest, necrophilia, and sodomy are all encouraged components. The
documentary (which consists of a nonstop barrage of interviews) offers various comedians take on the joke, what they know
about the origins, options for set up, and (frequently) their own tellings.
Is it funny? Sometimes. Like a stand-up act, the good jokes are hilarious, the bad ones are dead in the water, and audience
participation (or lack there of) will have a lot to do with any viewing. Lucky for me, I happened to be in a crowd that thinks
foreskin hats and circle-jerks around dead grandmothers is priceless material.
My biggest appreciation for this movie doesn’t stem from my sense of humor (which is, admittingly, quite sick) but from my
background as a writer. See, this doc also offers insight as to the level of creativity required by comedians in order to offer a
fresh take on an old routine, while maintaining voice and personalizing the joke to fit individual style. I found myself
considering what a great exercise something like this would be for writers looking to tap into their creativity and offer
something authentic and new while maintaining their own established voice. Yes, I’m actually that dorky.
Top comedians to watch for include Whoopi Goldberg, Sarah Silverman, Gilbert Godfrey, George Carlin, and some guy
talking to a guy in army garb in the center of a city. One of the funniest moments came courtesy of Bob Saget, a comedian
best known as the straight-laced dad on Full House, a show that got laughs from people like my grandma with such zesty
lines as: “how rude!” Since this joke is only limited by how sick of a place you’re willing to allow your imagination to go, one
must consider that if it wasn’t for comedy, Bob Saget would probably be strung up in a dom dungeon wearing nipple clamps
and begging Mistress Kiki to pull harder right now. I have a respect for the man I never knew I could have.
If you have a delicate palate, a special attachment to your own personal definition of political correctness, an inclination
towards censorship, or general disdain towards jokes involving feces and sexual acts, for the love of God, avoid this movie.
You’ll be so overwhelmed with offense you’ll have to invent a whole new internal happy place to deal with it. However, if you
enjoy watching sometimes self-conscience comedians push so far beyond the normal lines of what’s considered “decency” or
even pornography, please see this. 97 minutes later you’ll find yourself lingering in the street with your fellow movie-goers,
challenging each other to come up with far sicker versions of the joke than these blushing comics offered with the cameras
still rolling.
The Aristocrats in currently playing at Cinema 21 in Portland. While they don’t serve pizza and beer, they do offer real butter
with their popcorn, and it’s actually affordable. Check out the Aristocrats website to offer your own dirty, dirty joke and maybe
win a prize.
Tom Cruise reprises his only role as arrogant short man in another movie by what's-his-name.
by Amanda, ZORI3 Czarina
Dir. Steven Spielberg
Paramount/Dreamworks, 2005
PG-13, 116 minutes
Welcome to two hours of hot apocalypse action, alien style! Tom Cruise stars, reprising his only role: muscle-bound
arrogant short guy. In an added twist, this time he's a blue collar muscle-bound arrogant short guy. I'll pause for a moment
for you to consider that.
I've seen the original film interpretation of the H.G. Wells classic of the same name, and Spielberg creates a far different
film. Rather than focusing on the unfolding of events once aliens arrive and decide to stake a claim on planet Earth,
Spielberg seems to have committed to the creation of an emotion: anxiety. From the moment alien-piloted killing machines
first earthquake out of the ground, the viewer follows Mr. Cruise as he attempts to save his hide (and his family's) from a
mysterious-something he knows almost nothing about.
In a sense, Spielberg's interpretation is a pretty realistic picture of what the average person would experience in such an
extreme situation. There's no single television working to fill Mr. Cruise in on exactly what is going on and why, there's no
chance for noteworthy heroism, there's just pandemonium. Halfway through the film I noticed that the normally semi-loud
audience of the Laurelhurst had fallen dead silent, and I was so tense I was...wait, I'm always tense. Never mind.
While the suspense developed is certainly noteworthy, I was much more interested in the bicycle motif. Did you notice what
didn't break down when the aliens landed? BICYCLES. Notice what the alien are afraid of in the basement? BICYCLES.
Perhaps Steven Spielberg is up to something environmentally positive. All I know is I feel a lot better about my
post-apocalypse chances of survival.
Dakota Fanning costars as annoying screaming girl, and there's some other kid in it too, but his name is never mentioned
so I don't want to buck the trend. Wait, yes I do: Justin Chatwin. Justin Chatwin. Justin Chatwin. He plays brooding angst
boy, which is apparently the new black.
The special effects are good and non-distracting, the pace is frantic enough for any ADHD sufferer to endure, and the
funny moments are few but well placed (and usually intentional). War of the Worlds truly builds an amazing feeling of
anxiety that will inevitably lead to more interesting early-evening dreams. However, in negative news, the movie features at
least one gag-me moment of Tom Cruise evolving into alien-stomping wonder boy, and a stomach-turning happy ending.
All in all War of the Worlds is worth a $4 admission, if for no other reason, because afterwards you'll inevitably end up
dissecting your own chances of survival in a climate of every-man-for-himself. Of course, watching CNN also inspires this
discussion. The movie is the less depressing option. Go build your bomb shelter.
War of the Worlds is currently playing at the Laurelhurst Theater in Portland.
