recommended reading: the long legged fly by james sallis

so. my idea of math: love of books + boring everyday existence + voracious search for new favorite books + blog = the occasional book review.

i recently stumbled across a detective noir (in more ways than one) series that begins with the long legged fly. in addition to featuring as it's main character black private investigator lew griffin, the book provides the reader with a perfectly nuanced and accurate snapshot of life in new orleans, at various points in the character's and the city's history.

the book begins in 1960 with a murder scene. lew is the murderer. he is a vigilante who kills the white men who rape and murder little black girls and boys. this scene, as with all the others in the book, is written so simply and sparsely that not one word is superfluous or unnecessary. each word of dialogue, each description of body positioning or physical surrounding is tight, yet incredibly apt at producing a reaction in the reader.

we follow lew, who we know early on is a dangerous man with a sense of justice, as he struggles to make ends meet as a PI in 1964. we see his shattered family -- wife and son no longer with him, he has a relationship with a hooker named laverne. we see that he likes to drink. we see how he is sought out by people who need to find people, and we see him find a prominent woman who is broken by the pressure of her life as a civil rights activist. in 1970 where the book continues, lew has built his business up and doesn't have to struggle to eat anymore. he still sees laverne. he is older, more mature, less likely to commit violence. he observes more and acts less. a black christian family seeks his help finding their daughter, and he does -- right before she dies of a drug overdose inflicted by her white, older lover. jump to 1984. lew has gotten back with his wife and they have divorced again. he has suffered an extreme psychotic break caused by alcoholism. he awakens in a hospital, and is released into a halfway house. he starts a relationship, a real one. he makes a friend in the halfway house, and the friend asks him to find his sister. he does. he saves her from what would have probably been a very bad fate. his lover leaves, unable to handle the violence and racism that plague the city. 1990. lew has become a writer, almost by accident. he writes from his own experience as a PI. one day his ex wife calls. she has not heard from their son, who teaches english at columbia in new york. he knows, as the book comes to an end, that he will not find his son, that he is gone.

you may be crying out "ack! you bitch! you have so many spoilers in this post that it stinks worse than two week old household garbage on a hot day." not so, gentle reader. for the magic of sallis' writing is that the plot seems to be only a vehicle for telling the parallel stories of lew griffin and new orleans, and how they evolve (or devolve) together. he captures with his laconic prose and dialogue the flavor of new orleans, the fact of blackness, the metamorphoses of personal growth and personal degeneration. he understands that history, personal or social, does not move in one progressive direction; lew and new orleans gain and they lose and they make circular progress, if any. sallins creates a character that is both archetypical and anti-archetypical; just when you think you know lew, he changes.

how much do i recommend this book? i have already ordered every other book in the series from the library. if you like detective stories that run to the more sophisticated side (no jonathan kellerman or tami hoag readers, please -- they aren't even in this guy's stratosphere) this book is for you.

favorite quote from the book: "either it's only in the relationships we manage that we live at all, or we must think that in order to manage them in the first place. we go on trying not just to survive, but to find reasons, such as love, that allow us to betray ourslves into choosing survival."

the end is near.... or, reminiscing

after today, i have exactly fourteen work days left at my current place of employment. this is very exciting in MANY ways (the first, foremost, and best thing is that i will no longer have to talk to, look at, interact with, or think about my oft-mentioned crazy, annoying, and maddening boss). however, as is often the case when a period of one's life comes to a close, i am starting to reminisce about the good times, the happy people, the (usually) functional and clean ladies' washroom in our building -- in short, i am dwelling on the reasons that it has taken me so long (more than a year since i first started thinking about quitting) to make the decision to leave.

reason 1: coworkers. i like my coworkers. i realized a long time ago how lucky i am to be able to say that. many of my friends LOATHE their coworkers, and have to deal with nasty nasty people every single day. by virtue of the fact that we are all crammed into a tiny space without any cubicles, we spend a lot of the day talking about politics, music, books, whatever. sex or some variation of it invariably comes up. someone's size is insulted, someone's orientation is questioned, someone's propensity to burst into giggles at the slightest mention of nether-parts is ridiculed. hilarity invariably ensues. it occurs to me sometimes, as i drive to work, or relate some funny-ness to chris, or sit on the couch after the commute that i will miss all of these people very very much.

reason 2: free parking. near downtown. 'nuff said.

reason 3: flexible hours. i basically get to come in whenever i want, as long as i'm here eight hours a day. it makes it easier on chris and me to commute in to town from the boonies.

reason 4: commuting with chris. i HATE the commute. i cuss. i spit. i make profane hand gestures. but i LOVE commuting with chris. it's two hours a day of uninterrupted time with him. in the morning, he puts his hand on my thigh, and i put my hand on his, and sometimes we talk and sometimes we don't, depending on just how sleep deprived we are. we put on the fox morning show, and make disgusted noises when one of the deejays says something too stupid for words to address. we see sunrises together, and we notice all the early morning weirdos who are up at the same awful time that we are -- the lady who takes her morning walk backwards, the girl who wears scrubs waiting at the bus stop, the guy doing tai chi in the park. in the afternoon, i tell him about my day. sometimes this takes five minutes, and other times it takes the entire freaking commute home, depending on my level of outrage. he tells me about his day. i alert him if there's someone turning in our lane or if he's about to hit a pedestrian (which he's done before -- you really have to watch that guy). we usually hold hands during all this (except at those moments when driving necessitates the use of both hands). it's good quality couple time, and it's time that i really appreciate. thinking about him commuting to work all by his lonesome self, not being able to use the HOV lane, not having anyone to hold hands with, makes me really sad. and oddly, it makes me feel guilty. maybe because i am probably going to be unemployed for the next three months? yeah, that could be it. anyway, i am going to miss that time with him more than i could have ever imagined. damn it all to hell and back.

reason 5: washroom. one toilet. roomy. clean. good hand soap. this is the washroom i will miss. the building administrator is making it a bit easier to leave, however, since the washroom is kind of dirty right now, and smelly, and there is some algae growing in the fresh water tank that's coming out when the toilet is flushed. so this is really only half a reason right now.

reason 6: local shopkeepers. when my brain makes an exit from my cranium, which it does regularly due to the ridiculously boring nature of my work, i get out of the office and spend some of my hard earned cash at local shops. aveda salon. body shop. chocolatier. ah, yes, the chocolatier. i love it. there's this red-haired chick who works there and she knows me by now, and we chat about everything and she gives me free chocolate. i'm going to miss her.

reason 7: money. as poorly paid as this job is, it pays something for god's sake.

reason 8: volunteers. we work with a lot of volunteers. some of them are idiots. some of them are irresponsible. but most of them are interesting people who i'm glad to have met. they come from all different backgrounds and cultures. they are young, so they keep my old ass down with the street lingo. they are enthusiastic about being here, which warms the cockles of my cynical and sick-of-this-shit-job heart. i'm going to miss meeting so nice, young, and bright people.

okay.... i think that's enough. i am already all depressed and maudlin about leaving. if i keep dwelling on all the things i am going to miss, i might, in a fit of temporary insanity, retract my resignation and decide to stay here. thank god that we have already hired and started training my replacement. it would be a little difficult to explain to her that i've changed my mind.

why is it that change is so hard? i know that i want, and probably need, a major change in my professional life. and even though my brain knows that, my gut is sad about it. my gut is also worried and anxious. if my gut had fingernails, it would be chewing on them. if my cut had cuticles, it would be picking at them. so on top of sadness about leaving some very good things in my life, i am dealing with anxiety about the lack of career certainty in my future. i have basically been promised a job in october, but what if that doesn't work out? i have promised to work on my book during this three month hiatus, but what if i fail myself? jesus, mary, and fucking joseph, where is pollyanna when you need her ass? WHY AM I SO NEGATIVE???

i want to be excited about leaving, and i am, but in the way that one is excited about getting rid of the mold in one's fridge. yeah. i don't have mold anymore. but what do i have to look forward to? what's in my fridge now? NOW MY FRIDGE IS EMPTY!!!! i got beer and mustard and empty shelves. and i don't even like beer.

god, i'm boring

wonder why i haven't posted in a long time? see title. you know what my mama said? she said if you haven't got anything nice to say, don't say anything at all, so i haven't. the majority of my thoughts lately have been nasty, insidious, self-flagellating (and NOT the good kind of flagellation) ones about myself. so.... do i have anything nice to say yet? nope. not at all. check back soon.