My Dark Places

My Dark Places is the story of the investigation into the murder of Jean Ellroy.  Her son, James Ellroy, a well-known author (he wrote L.A. Confidential and The Black Dahlia) wrote this book, I believe as a way to come to understand his mother and the role she and her death played in his life. 

Ellroy was ten years old when his mother was found murdered.  His parents had recently become separated and he lived primarily with his mother, although he idolized his father and desired to live with him.  The young Ellroy believed his father’s negative propaganda against his mother in his ardency to come live with his father.  When she was killed, Ellroy did not seem particularly affected by her death (although I think her death shaped his notions of gender roles and his seemingly hidden hatred/love for women), and gets his wish and goes to live with his father.

We follow Ellroy as he grows up fascinated by crime, sex, and graphic violence.  He is an outsider with few friends.  In his late teens, he begins delving into drugs.  His father dies, and Ellroy is on his own.  Eventually, he spends almost a decade living on the streets or on the couches of friends, drinking and doing drugs.

Ellroy has an epiphany when his health is ruined.  Doctors tell him he could die if he continues with his lifestyle.  That doesn’t long deter him from continuing to drink.  It isn’t until his brain becomes numb – he has a fit where his brain does not seem to work; he cannot remember things or process simple thoughts – that he decides to stop the drug abuse.  Ellroy is sincerely frightened about losing his cognitive abilities.

Later in his life, after he has become a renowned author, Ellroy decides to investigate the true crime that affected his life the most: the murder of his mother.  He has always been fascinated with other Hollywood-esque true crimes involving somewhat slatternly yet beautiful women: why hasn’t he delved into his mother’s death?  He hires an ex-police officer to help him with his investigations.  They read old files and police notes, re-interrogate witnesses to a crime that is more than 30 years old, and travel all over the country chasing down leads.  Ellroy eventually has to face his past: he needs to know who his mother truly was in order to attempt a reconstruction of her life and understand the patterns that led her to her fate.

Ellroy writes in a terse and vivid way.  He uses strong language that is effective for a crime noir, and uses straightforward and explicit details to describe crime scenes, bodies, people, motives, etc.  In the following passage, he describes a woman who was a victim of a sex crime:

She reinvented herself with youthful panache and convinced herself that she was something original.  She miscalculated.  She wasn’t smart and she wasn’t self-aware.  She recast herself in a cookie-cutter mold that pandered to long-prescribed male fantasies.  The new Betty was the old Betty bushwhacked by Hollywood.  She turned herself into a cliche that most men wanted to fuck and a few men wanted to kill.  She wanted to get deep dark down cozy with men.  She sent out magnetic signals.  She met a man with notions of deep-dark-down-and-cozy cloaked in rage.  Her only complicitous act was a fait accompli.  She made herself over for men.   

I liked the book: it was fascinating, tough, and interesting to see Ellroy change in his opinions and perspectives of himself, his mother, and their relationship, although there were moments that seemed too emotional given Ellroy’s style and tone.  It was disappointing to not find out who the killer was, but perhaps that was a proper ending to the book.  I recommend this true crime memoir, although I was not absorbed by it.

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Kobe

A group of us visited the Japanese steakhouse Kobe a few weeks ago for Chris’s birthday.  I had never been to this Shockoe Slip restaurant so was eager to check it out.  Tim and I met Chris and John early and enjoyed a drink from their ground floor bar.  The decor on the ground floor was modern and well-lit.  Jenn and Ray arrived soon after, and we headed down into the basement to eat.

The basement was more dimly lit and full of scattered grills surrounded by seats.  The six of us were seated at one grill.  Another couple was soon seated at our table.  We were quickly brought miso soup by our waitress and then settled in for a wait.  The soup was good, but was very onion-y.  Our waitress took our food orders (because we were downstairs, our choices were limited to steak, chicken, scallops, shrimp, filet mignon, or some combination of these items).  After taking our order, we were each served a small salad, comprised of iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, and a delicious ginger peanut dressing.

After eating our salad, we settled in for a wait until our chef arrived.  Finally he did and started his performance.  If you have not been to a Japanese steakhouse before, the chef cooks at your table, flipping the meat, eggs, veggies, etc. with some prowess.  One of our chef’’s tricks was to saute shrimp and then flip one to each person seated at the table.  Only Chris and John had the skills to catch the shrimp in their mouths.  This was a typical experience for a Japanese steakhouse, although John was disappointed – he had recently been to other steakhouses and thought that the chefs showed more skill.

After the show, we were served our food.  I had the chicken with vegetables and it was delicious.  The meat was tender and moist.  I loved the spicy mustard/soy sauce combination we were each served with our dish, and dumped most of it on top of my meat and veggies. 

I enjoyed Kobe, except for the atmosphere.  It was difficult to hold a conversation with your table-mates due to the open layout and all the chefs cooking in front of you.  It was also quite warm due to all the open grills.  Kobe was satisfactory, but nothing particularly special (except that mustard/soy sauce).

Rating:

Sometimes in April

Tim and I recently watched the movie Sometimes in April, which deals with the Rwandan genocide.   We follow the story of Augustin, a moderate Hutu married to a Tutsi, Jeanne.  Augustin is a soldier, but leaves the military as the slaughter begins in order to protect Jeanne and their children.  Augustin entrusts his family to his brother Honore, hoping that Honore’s vocal support of the slaughter will help him to move Jeanne and the children to safety.  Augustin then begins his own struggle to find safety and winds up at the Mille Collines (the hotel from Hotel Rwanda fame).

The movie shows action during two time frames – during the 100 days of the 1994 genocide and to a time 10 years later, when we see Augustin as a teacher and with a girlfriend, Martine.  In 2004, Augustin travels to the United Nations tribunal in Arusha to witness the trial of his brother, Honore.  Eventually, Augustin and Honore are able to visit, and Augustin discovers what happened to Jeanne and his children (they perished during their attempted escape and its aftermath).

Of course, this movie makes you feel sad and angry.  There is a sub-plot following an American Undersecretary of State who is trying to get the United States to take more decisive action in Rwanda, but who, of course, is met with resistance.  You can actually hear the collective sighs of relief from the American officials when the 100-day slaughter seems to abate, a “well, we did the best we could do given the circumstances and our lack of national interest in this area – glad it didn’t last any longer or else we might have had to actually act.”  However, I think this movie was more effective then, for example, Hotel Rwanda, because it seemed more personal and because we get an understanding of the aftermath of the genocide on Rwandans.

This was the first film I saw on this genocide that spread the blame to many.  Unlike in past films, which may have been designed to provoke Western audiences and make Westerners feel guilty for their indifference, this film showed how the individual killers have to be held responsible as well.  Yes, America, the United Nations, and the world should have done something, anything to help, but what causes a person to open fire on a group of twenty girls hiding in a convent?  How has this perpetrator’s soul been decimated, what can make a person chop up his neighbor with a machete?  This film does cast a spotlight on the indifference of the world, but also exposes the passionate hatred of individuals.

I also liked how we see Augustin ten years later as he tries to rebuild his life knowing his beloved family is dead but not understanding how or why.  We see snippets of the UN trials, which Augustin finds somewhat useless until he speaks with a plaintiff, a woman who was forcibly and repetitively raped by rampaging Hutus.  This woman is scarred, but she feels proud and somewhat healed by facing her accusers and telling her story.  We also see glimpses of local tribunals, run by leaders of villages.  These seem more effective in healing than the austere courtroom proceedings of the UN.  Any interested parties gather around a tree in the local village.  An official calls out the accused’s name and asks the crowd if anyone can bear witness against this man. People stand and tell their stories to their neighbors, their friends, their countrymen.  It seems an effective way to try to heal, to come to a collective and national understanding of the truth behind this massacre.   This is important: I remember a salient point from my reading of Gulag that, because no one discusses the Soviet past, accepts that people were unjustly imprisoned, or works to right this injustice, that Russians have no qualms with current repressive policies.  Will genocide happen again in Rwanda?  I don’t know, but in Sometimes in April, although it shows numerous horrors, we feel that it will not.  And not because outsiders will be watching and acting (because we won’t) but because the nation has started to heal itself.

The Thirteenth Tale

I began reading The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield on a cold, rainy Friday when I was home from work recovering from one of the worst sicknesses I ever had.  It was a perfect selection for a dreary day as the story is very Gothic in tone.  The protagonist, Margaret, who lives a secluded life working with her father in his bookstore and penning some little-read biographies of minor historical figures, is contacted by Vida Winter, one of the most prolific and popular writers in Britain.  The reclusive Vida is nearing death and would like Margaret to write her biography.  Margaret decides to take the job and comes to Vida’s estate to listen to her story.

Most of the book is filled with the recreation of Vida’s life.  We learn about her grandparents, her twin sister, and others who intersect with her upbringing.  There are many twists in the plot and lots of guessing as to the present roles of characters from the past and how characters from the past are living and effecting the present.  It is an interesting tale, although not particularly meaningful.

I liked Margaret as a main character: she was serious, smart, adventuresome, and sad.  By the end of Vida’s story, Margaret is as engrossed in the tale as the reader is.  The book is well written with a definite gothic tone.  It was a very easy read and a captivating story.  I would recommend it for a dark stormy night when you don’t want to think too much but still want to be consumed by a book.

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Old School Freight Train

Tim, Stacey, and I visited Ashland Coffee and Tea this past weekend to see Old School Freight Train, a band that plays folk, bluegrass, and some tidbits of rock.  We always enjoy listening to music at AC&T since they actually have a listening room, and not just a bar where people socialize while musicians play in the background (there was even a “shh-ing” by the AC&T staff when one table refused to quiet down after intermission).

Anyway, Old School Freight Train is a group of talented musicians – they all are extremely proficient on their instruments (guitar, violin, mandolin, bass, and drum).  Their covers of traditional bluegrass tunes and other suitable songs are excellent (their renditions of Louisiana by Randy Newman and Superstition by Stevie Wonder are truly good).  However, their original numbers, except the ones that are in the traditional bluegrass vein, leave something to be desired.  I think the original tunes sound too much like easy listening; Tim thinks the problem is that they have not gelled as songwriters.

Regardless, if you have a chance, go and check them out – they are great live performers.  You can also see and hear them on My Space if you would like a sample.

Cafe Rustica

Tim and I visited Cafe Rustica a number of weeks ago when we read that it was expanding its hours in order to serve dinner and realized that it was located downtown, near to our home.  We were pleasantly surprised with the setting – it is a small restaurant with a long, pretty bar running the length of one wall.  Against the other wall was a series of booths – the backs of each booth was made from old wooden doors, which looked neat.  Tim and I were seated next to the front plate glass window, at a two-top cafe table with tall chairs.  It was a romantic yet comfortable setting.

Our waitress was knowledgeable yet friendly.  We were served bread quickly and it was good.  Tim ordered schweinschnitzel, which was served with red cabbage and spaetzel.  The pork was flattened and took up half of his plate (obviously, quite a big portion).  Tim ate most of his food.  I ordered a beef dish served with a rich, hearty brown gravy.  I also received side dishes of red cabbage and spaetzel.  I am not a big red cabbage fan, but Rustica’s cabbage was truly excellent.  My meat was tender and the gravy was flavorful (I believe it was made with red wine).   I almost cleaned my plate.

There were additional German-themed selections on the menu, as well as several fish dishes.  German is not my favorite ethnicity for food, although Tim adores it (and now that our beloved Acapella is closed, I believe the only German fare available in Richmond can be found at Cafe Rustica).  We grabbed a paper menu on our way out and salivated over the breakfast and lunch offerings (some breakfast items include the rustic skillet, crab omelet, and several varieties of poached eggs).  We will definitely be visiting some time soon for breakfast.

I highly recommend Cafe Rustica and hope that Richmonders will go out and enthusiastically support it.  However, if you have a large party this is not the place to go, as they do not have tables big enough for more than four or perhaps five people.

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20th Century Genocide: Did the Armenian Massacres Lead the Way?

Tim and I attended this panel discussion last Thursday at the Virginia Holocaust Museum.  Panel participants included Retired Ambassador Joseph Pressel, VCU Professor Herbert Hirsch, William & Mary Professor Roger Smith, and Retired Ambassador John Evans.  Although the title of the discussion seems to indicate otherwise, the dialogue was focused on whether the Armenian massacres that took place in 1915 under the Ottoman Empire should be reclassified as genocide (rather than a discourse as to whether the Armenian genocide was the first genocide, and whether or not the lack of repercussions during that time led to further genocides in the 20th century – e.g. the Holocaust, Serbia, Rwanda, etc.).

The panelist with the most interesting background was John Evans.  Mr. Evans was the U.S. ambassador to Armenia who was dismissed from his position and from his diplomatic career for labelling the Armenian genocide as a genocide.  As a mouthpiece for the U.S. government, he was not supposed to term the killings as genocide (the United States, despite the urging of Armenians, has not officially acknowledged that the 1915 killings were, in fact, a genocide).

The panelist with the best argument, to me, was Joseph Pressel.  He is a proponent of realpolitik and stated that it is not in the U.S. government’s best interest to anger Turkey by classifying the Armenian killings as genocide.  You may remember some flak from last year when Congress drafted a resolution acknowledging the Armenian killings as a genocide.  Turkish officials created quite an uproar and threatened the Turkish alliance with America.  Turkey also spent millions of dollars on lobbying efforts to persuade U.S. officials to reject the resolution, which they eventually did.  I don’t necessarily disagree with this position: obviously, all historic facts and accounts point to the killings as fitting the definition of genocide and I believe that most people who know the story of the Armenian massacre believe it to be a genocide.   But what good would calling the Armenian killings a genocide do now, except make Turkey very angry?  If labelling the Armenian killings a genocide would consequently save lives now, I would be all for it.  I do think it is ridiculous for Turkey to deny its past atrocities and disallow both its citizens and Armenians a chance to heal.  However, Americans officially calling the Armenian genocide a genocide will only result in grave consequences for American foreign policy in the Middle East.  (There is also the additional concern of America acknowledging its own past atrocities – when will we have an apology from the U.S. government about the genocide of the Native Americans or the enslavement of Africans?)

Of course, there is quite an argument against my support of this notion of realpolitik in respect to the Armenian genocide.  At the discussion on Thursday evening, we heard about the pain of many Armenian Americans whose ancestors suffered at the hands of the Turks.  They want acknowledgement of their losses and that the lives and deaths of their family members meant something, and I do not blame them for this.

So what is the answer?  I am uncertain, and I am sure my perspective would be different if I was Armenian or Turkish.  How much do we value in a name or a label?  What does a label mean?

The Oscars

Every year Tim and I attempt to see all of the films nominated for Best Picture.  We’re not sure why, as we seldom agree with the Academy on their selections and can often think of other films we have seen that are better than those actually nominated.  Nevertheless, we set out again this year to watch all five and I am proud (or perhaps a little embarrassed) to say that each of us we forked over $45 to view these films.  Since last night was the Oscar ceremony, I thought I would give my thoughts on each of the films nominated for best picture:

• There Will Be Blood: As much as I love P.T. Anderson’s other films (especially Magnolia), I thought this movie was overly long and overly boring.  The film started out strong – several minutes with no dialogue, stark music, and Daniel Day-Lewis, alone in the foothills of Texas, introducing us to his character Daniel Plainview.  Plainview is a man encompassed by greed, hard work, and his basic hatred of people.  The first hour or so of the movie was good – Day-Lewis performs magnificently, and the developing relationship between Plainview and his adoptive son is interesting.  Then the movie drags on and on and on and on.  Plainview becomes so evil without any motivation that the audience has absolutely no sympathy or understanding of him as a human being.  Plainview’s overreaction to the charlatan preacher Eli Sunday seems ridiculous and unfounded, and the final scene of the movie is the most over-acted piece of drivel ever filmed.
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• Michael Clayton: I actually had very low expectations for this film: I think most people were surprised that it was nominated for Best Picture.  But this dark legal thriller was better than expected.  George Clooney plays the title character, a lawyer at a high-powered firm who is called the Janitor – Michael Clayton cleans up the messes of wealthy clients and his fellow lawyers.  Michael is called in to “clean up” when one of the firm’s partners, who is a manic depressive and is not taking his medication, strips at a deposition.  This lawyer has been working on the same case for many, many years, representing a biochemical company that is being sued by people who were made sick by their product.  The biochemical company takes drastic measures to try to win their lawsuit; Michael has to decide his ethical stance as a lawyer working on a case that is essentially unethical.  The movie was good, the acting was understated yet superb (great supporting cast anchored by Tom Wilkinson as the manic depressive lawyer), but the film did not wow me.
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• Atonement: This film, too, was better than I thought it would be.  It takes place in the 1930s at the estate of a wealthy family.  The youngest daughter, Briony, witnesses her sister, Cecilia, having sexual relations with the son of their housekeeper, Robbie.  Later that night, her cousin Lola is raped.  Briony thinks she sees who is raping Lola and accuses Robbie of the rape.  Robbie is sent to jail.  Cecilia and Robbie are in love, and Cecilia leaves her comfortable family life because they believe that Robbie is guilty.  Robbie is eventually given the choice to either go fight in World War II or stay in jail.  He elects to go fight.  Cecilia promises to wait for him.  Briony comes to realize that her naive and selfish views made her accuse the wrong man of raping Lola.  She tries to make amends but is uncertain as to how.  The ending is extremely sad and slightly surprising, although satisfying.  The acting was excellent, especially the child actress who plays Briony, although I was distracted by the extreme bony-ness of Keira Knightley, who played Cecilia.  
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• Juno: What a funny, witty, and endearing film!  Ellen Page is perfect as the quirky and jaded Juno who becomes pregnant after having sex for the first time with her best friend Paulie.  Her family accepts the pregnancy and helps her deal with it.  Juno decides to birth the baby and find the perfect couple to raise it.  She puts an ad in the paper and finds the Lorings, the quintessential yuppie couple who are desperate to adopt.  Juno develops a relationship with the Lorings and also discovers what love means.  Yes, it is a little corny, but it was well done.
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• No Country for Old Men: This film is the latest movie by the Coen Brothers.  Llewellyn Moss is out hunting one day when he stumbles across a drug deal gone bad.  All the drug dealers are either dead or almost dead.  Llewellyn steals the money sitting there and begins running.  He is soon being trailed by Anton Chigurh, a hit-man working for a drug kingpin to get back his money.  We watch as Anton chases Llewellyn, leaving a bloody wake of bodies.  Also on the hunt is Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, trying to save Llewellyn from his inevitable fate at the hands of Anton.  The movie is stark, violent, and sad.  There is such a sense of loss and the desire to survive – what will a person give up in order to survive?  Is a life with no meaning better than no life at all?  Tim really disliked this movie whereas I thought it was excellent and heartbreaking.  The ending is abrupt and profoundly depressing.  I believe this movie, unlike any of the other nominees, stretches the boundaries of film-making.  I do admit that that the film could have used some editing, tightening some of the lengthy parts in the middle, but overall it was an excellent film.
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Sophie

Last week we had a friendly visitor stay with us for a few days:

                                                       

My sister and her husband travelled to Omaha to look for a new house (they are relocating to Nebraska in early March).  Tim and I were entrusted with the care of Sophie.  We went on walks, barked at shadows in the backyard, hid under the bed, and took numerous naps.  All in all, we had a pretty good time.

Best name for a rock band ever . . .

Hookers N’ Blow. 

Of course it is fronted by former Guns N’ Roses keyboardist Dizzy Reed.

Even more surprising, Dizzy Reed is a philatelist.

If you want to see Hookers N’ Blow, they’ll be at Toad’s Place on April 3.