Disclaimer - I would never have read this gem if it wasn't for The Husband. He is a hard core rap fan. I am not. I dabble in rap. He lives in rap. I was thinking this morning about if someone were to write a story about us, what would the title be... I think I came up with the perfect one, loosely based on a book by John Steinbeck. Our story would be titled "Of Animals and Rap" - I love animals and The Husband loves rap. The Husband read this book during our vacation in August and was giggling and laughing the whole time. So, after I finished my vacation read, I started reading this one on/around August 23 and finished it on/around September 16. This one took a little longer to read because I started a meditation practice and I tend to do my meditations before bed, which is when I usually read. So, I sort of put reading on the back burner a little in order to get my feet wet with meditation. After meditating, I usually fall right asleep.
Regardless, I read this rap book. It was hilarious. The author, Jensen Karp, grew up basically where I grew up. He mentions many places that I know and have been during my upbringing in the San Fernando Valley. His observations and remembrances are pretty spot on and funny. Jensen is a white Jewish boy who dreamed of becoming a rapper. His dreams came true at a Bar Mitzva where he rapped. Through a wild set of crazy circumstances, Jensen finds himself in front of Jimmy Iovine the head of Interscope records getting a deal to become the next white rapper (this is at the same time Eminem was coming up). Despite a little voice in the back of Jensen's head telling him that this was a bad deal because how was Interscope going to promote 2 white rappers at the same time, he was so gung-ho that he took the deal. Interscope threw lots of money and people at him - he met all kinds of famous rappers and artists he idolized, including RZA, how could he turn that down?
I was surprised to find a mention of Ry Cooder - he wrote a book called Los Angeles Stories that I read back in September 2014. Jensen wrote:
I had been introduced to Mathew Robinson, a writer who moonlighted as Matty Boom in Trilambs, a humorous rap group that had been garnering attention throughout LA with their over-the-top skewering of hip-hop culture. The comedy-focused group was made up of about a dozen members, including some music royalty - ranging from Quincy Jones's grandson to Ry Cooder's son - who had little to no history in rap. They would sample songs that had zero chance at eventual clearance, stealing elements from the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel, while employing ridiculous lyrics influenced by the stream-of-consciousness style of Ghostface Killah but mostly just mentioning how they were rich enough to own a camel or reminiscing about the year that homeless people went crazy.
Where else are you going to get a mention of the Beatles, Quincy Jones, Simon and Garfunkel, and Ghostface Killah all in one place? In this book, apparently. And, apparently, Kanye West, was a humble music producer peddling his beats to anyone who would listen before he became a famous, rich, crazy person. Jensen worked with Kanye and wrote about the first time he spoke with Kanye:
On the resulting conference call with our managers, Kanye was polite and accommodating, excited to be making what would be, at the time, the most money he'd ever made from music: somewhere between $5000 and $7500. But that all took a quick turn when he heard what track I selected. The vision and stubborn determination we're now accustomed to seeing from Kanye suddenly cropped up out of nowhere.
"But that's the one I made for Ghostface", Kanye explained.
One of his managers, Gee, reminded him that Ghostface had heard it and passed.
"Yeah, but I gotta talk to him. Pick another one."
I said excitedly, "Oh, you know Ghostface?" Even after my personal experience with RZA, I still wasn't cool enough to hide my enthusiasm whenever Wu-Tang was mentioned.
"No," Kanye said abruptly.
This recollection of Jensen's first in-person interaction with Kanye made me laugh out loud:
I was also pretty taken aback by what "K.West" looked like. The swagger you see in the megastar now was entirely absent. His Enyce tracksuit jacket and baggy pants were about two sizes bigger than anything a rapper would wear, even in 2001. He was sporting an outfit that a fifty-year-old woman in a wardrobe department would put together if "rapper" was mentioned in your script. We were more than a decade away from rappers mentioning Tom Ford and Marc Jacobs in songs - or from Kanye debuting his own weirdo high-end clothing line during Fashion Week - but the guy looked just plain goofy. And the gold chains and Jesus piece that would eventually appear around his neck were replaced by the only bling he had at the time: adult braces. I vividly remember saying, "This guy looks like Bowfinger" to my manager, who would whisper "Urkel" in my ear over and over.
Apparently, Kanye was dorky. Who knew?
This book is hilarious, from Jensen's rap persona's name - Hot Karl - to his stories of interactions with Kanye and everything in between. If you know anything about rap at all and/or grew up in LA, you'll find this book comical, entertaining, and interesting. The Husband was surprised about how many of the rappers I remembered from his random rap-like tales of rappers he likes. I feel proud that I can shock him with my rap knowledge. I don't necessarily share his love for rap, but I love him. So, maybe by affiliation I love rap too. I don't know. But this book was funny.
Oh, and if you read it, you'll learn why Kanye owes Jensen Karp $300. I, personally, think Kanye should pay him back.
After finishing Los Angeles Stories, by Ry Cooder, on August 30, I moved right on to Paris: The Novel by Edward Rutherfurd. I got this book soon after the husband and I returned from our vacation in May to Paris, Florence, and Rome. I had never been to any of those places before so was super excited to go. I had low expectations for Paris, but after getting there and being there for a day, I fell in love. Paris was magnificent and I loved every moment we were there. I also have a soft spot for historical fiction, so was excited to see this book at Costco one afternoon, and decided it should come home with me.
This book is quite lengthy - 805 pages - so it took me a while to get through it. I finished it on October 26h. The Husband and I had an ongoing joke about the book. Every night he would ask me what the book was about, and every night I would tell him it was about Paris. Clearly it was about Paris - it's the title of the book. But it was so much more than that. Rutherfurd told the story of Paris through several fictitious families that lived there at different times in pivotal periods of Paris' and France's history.
Rutherfurd provides an illustration of 6 family trees - these families all are intertwined throughout the book in interesting ways - the families Le Sourd, de Cygne, Renard, Blanchard, Gascon, and Jacob. The illustration begins in 1282 and goes through 1968, so yeah, the book covers a lot.
I loved how Rutherfurd paints such real and vivid literary pictures with his rich and descriptive writing style. As you are reading, it is so easy to visualize the people, the places, and the details that he writes about. I loved how he would describe a place, and I could actually picture it because I had recently been there.
When in Paris, the Husband and I took a guided tour of the Eiffel Tower. Our tour guide described how the tower came to be - a contest for a monument for the world's fair was opened with very specific requirements. It it had to be a specific height (to top the Washington Monument in America), and the winner of the contest had to fund the construction of the structure themselves. One option was a giant guillotine and another contender was a giant sprinkler. The tower was submitted by Gustave Eiffel - an engineer - and it was selected. Eiffel negotiated that he would pay for the construction if he could keep the profits the tower generated for the next 20 years. The book echoed this sentiment as Rutherfurd wrote about the character Thomas Gascon, a poor boy who lived near Sacré Coeur, who needed a job. He worked for Eiffel on the Statue of Liberty, and when the tower was starting to be built, Thomas got a job from Monsieur Eiffel himself. In one of the many conversations between Thomas and Eiffel, Thomas learns from Eiffel about the reasons behind the tower's design:
"What is the greatest threat to a tall structure, young Gascon? Do you know?"
"Its weight, I suppose monsieur."
"No. Not really. It's the wind. The reason my tower has the shape it has, the reason it is constructed the way it is, all this is because of the wind, whose force would otherwise tear it down. That is the reason. Nothing else."
"Is that why it is just iron girders, so the wind can blow through?"
"Excellent. It is an open lattice construction, so that the wind can blow clean through it. An despite the fact that it is made of iron, which is strong, it is actually very light. If you put the tower in a cylindrical box, as a bottle of wine is sometimes sold, the air contained in the box would be almost as heavy as the metal tower itself. Amazing, but true."
Jumping to 1911, Thomas Gascon is married and has a few children. He has taken his children for a walk around Montmartre:
There was a funicular, nowadays, that ran up the left side of the steep, high slope, but one had to pay. Besides, as he told Monique when she complained, they wouldn't get any exercise if they didn't go up the steps.
The sun was out, catching the soaring white domes of the church of Sacré Coeur. High on its hill, it gleamed over the huge oval valley of Paris.
"Most of my life," Thomas remarked to his children "this hilltop was just a huge field of mud and wooden scaffolding. I used to wonder if I'd ever live to see the church finished. They didn't take the scaffolding down from the big dome until you were born, Monique, when I was thirty-five."
Jumping back to 1877, Thomas is courting Édith, a girl he saw at the funeral procession for Victor Hugo and fell instantly in love with, despite not knowing her name, where she lived, or anything about her. He found her many years later, and began courting her. Thomas and Edith went for a walk at the Trocadéro, and some pleasure gardens nearby. Rutherfurd describes the scene:
On the slope below the Trocadéro's Moorish concert hall as it looked across the river to the site of Monsieur Eiffel's tower, there were some pleasure gardens, which contained two big statues, one of an elephant, the other of a rhinoceros.
"I remember my father bringing me here to look at these," Édith told him, "when I was a girl." She smiled. "So I like to come and see them sometimes." She shrugged. "It brings back good memories."
I remember seeing these statues outside the Musee d'Orsay. They were absolutely lovely!
Also in 1877, we follow Roland de Cygne after school one day going to see the tomb of Napoléon at Les Invalides near Champ Mars and the Eiffel Tower.
Roland was a conscientious pupil. It didn't come naturally, because he often didn't want to work. It was only because of his mother, really, that he forced himself to do it. "Promise me, Roland, that you will try your best at school." It was almost the last thing she'd ever said to him. And to his credit, he had always kept his promise. Other boys in the class might be cleverer, but by working hard, he usually managed to get grades that were only a little behind the leaders.
So when, during a history class that morning, the teacher had asked how many boys had been to visit the horror, and he was the only one not to raise his hand, and the teacher told him to go to see it, he'd decided to go at once. After all, it wasn't far.
... Instead of finding a nave beneath the dome, one looked down from a circular gallery into a marble pit. Twelve pillars of victory encircled this pagan crypt, and in its center, upon a massive, green granite pedestal, rested a stupendous sarcophagus of polished red porphyry, bulging with imperial pride.
The tomb of Napoléon, child of the Revolution, conqueror of God's anointed monarchs, emperor of France. This was the horror that Roland had been sent to see.
The book was so rich with descriptions of places, people, architecture, feelings, and historical events. It is impossible to touch on them all. I absolutely loved this book. I think I would feel exactly the same had I not bought it in a post-vacation Paris-loving haze at Costco one afternoon.
Randomly, my in-laws were visiting the Husband and I after I just started the book, and my father-in-law, Jim, mentioned he was reading Rutherfurd's New York book. I did not know that there were other books by this author out there (though I can't say I am surprised). I asked Jim to please save the New York book for me to read. If you like books rich in history that might help you learn a thing or many about what happened in that place over time, pick this book up. You won't be sorry - and if you haven't already been to Paris - be prepared to want to make the trip. You will absolutely love it!
Note: all pictures here were taken by me on our vacation to Paris
After finishing The Martian, by Andy Weir around July 14, I picked up Los Angeles Stories by Ry Cooder. The husband and I were killing time in North Beach (San Francisco) one evening waiting for Tosca Cafe to open and some friends to arrive (side note: GO HERE - the drinks are absolutely AMAZING).
We wandered into City Lights Bookstore and browsed around. I happened upon Los Angeles Stories and read the first few pages. It was intriguing and I wanted to read more, so of course, I bought the book. I started reading it on July 26th, and finished it on August 30th. It took a little longer than other books for me to read, partly because it was strange, and partly because I wasn't reading it as much at night because I was tired, and because it was so strange. Upon reflection, I guess I should have known it would be strange after reading the note on the back of the book:
"What's that you say? Nothing ever happens in Los Angeles? Ask your downtown friends and neighbors, working folks you pass on the street - the cross dressing piano player, the Filipino labor agitator, the Mexican bolero singer, or the steel guitar-playing dental technician - buy them a cup of coffee and they'll tell you their stories. Sit down, take a load off, try some pork fried rice. Dig it and pick up on it, it happened like this.
Ry Cooder is a guitarist, singer and composer known for his interest in roots music, and for his collaborations with traditional musicians from many countries, including the Buena Vista Social Club. He has composed soundtracks for more than twenty films, including Paris, Texas. This is his first published collection of stories."
Um, yeah. Strange, intriguing, weird, bizarre. Yes, all of those things and more. But for some reason, after reading the first few pages while killing time in the book store, I wanted to read more.
I grew up in Los Angeles, so I have a soft spot for books set in the area because it is interesting to me to read about other peoples' takes on the area, and it always lends a more visual setting to books when I know and have been to places that are being described in the book - it makes it seem all the more real.
The book begins:
"1940: I work for the Los Angeles City Directory, a book of names, addresses, and job descriptions. I am one of many. Our job is to go out and collect the facts and bring them back. Other people take our work and put it in the Book, but we do the important part. Los Angeles is a big city, and the City Directory, is a big book...
I made the aquaintance of a Mr. John Casaroli. Mr. John, as he was known, was a retired opera singer and teacher. I listed him as Casaroli, John, vcl tchr, New Grand Hotel 257 Grand Ave. It turned out we got along, and I was often a guest in his apartment. One evening I arrived there to find police and onlookers crowded around what looked like a body on the sidewalk. The police said Mr. John had jumped from the roof just minutes before and was dead. They asked me if I was an 'associate' of his, and I explained that he was my friend and I'd been invited for a spaghetti dinner. They took me to police headquarters and I was questioned for an hour. When I asked why, the officer told me it was routine. That's when I learned that Mr. John had made a will and left his record player and all his records and Italian poetry books to me."
Each of the 8 short stories in the 232-page book has to do with musicians, some kind of crime, and how the main character deals with it or gets out of a bind. The stories are gritty, colorful, and full of details. It wasn't until the end of the book that I realized that some of the characters in each of the stories had small supporting roles in other stories. Some of the stories were more engaging than others, but they were all quite strange.
There is one about a cross-dressing piano player (a woman dressing as a man) who falls for a young girl (who thinks the piano player is a man), and the young girl ends up killing someone, and the main character of the story, Al Maphis, and the piano player, Billy Tipton, need to get her (Betty Newlands) out of Arizona and away from the cops. So Al drives her to Los Angeles and gets her in with a band that plays at a Filipino club...
"I introduced Johnny to Betty. He was suave, Latin-esque. He huddled with Betty in a booth, making diagrams in the air with his hands: I go from here, you come from there. They went onstage and did some steps. Johnny spun her around. He threw her down and picked her up. Betty was a cheerleader, she got it. He counted off "Hernando's Hideaway" - a pop tango for straight-life moms and pops. Johnny gave it the twist - a domestic scene from the dark side of town. The man is aroused, the woman is coy. He slaps her around a little just to get a mood going. He preens, checks his attitude. They embrace, they dance, she stabs him in the crotch with a big prop knife. Olé, thank you ladies and gentlemen, especially you, ladies."
Colorful, strange, detailed. John Lee Hooker makes an appearance in the story about Betty.
This book is eclectic, like most musicians are, I gather. I liked it though, in a strange sort of way.
I don't give this book two overwhelming thumbs up, nor do I give it any thumbs down. If you are in the mood for something strange, and off the beaten track, something the likes of you haven't ever read before, this may be just the thing for you.
Until next time..
