One Summer: Bryson as Storyteller

I first came across Bryson when I was trying to refresh my scientific knowledge, and used his short history of (nearly) everything to bring back those bits of knowledge that had receded into the brain.  I have since read several of his books, and I have found out that he is one of the better storytellers working in the English language.  My own knowledge of what he covers – science and this history of the English language -- let me know that Bryson knows what he is talking about.  No wooden nickels here. 

So when I came across this new title, a work of history, my interest was piqued even though it is not my normal fun reading.  It was a good read, covering a lot of things that will make this a great father’s day book or Christmas gift for the middle-age man in your life: there are the  1927 Yankee;  the race to fly across the Atlantic won by Charles Lindbergh; and there is even the president wearing a cowboy outfit.

Any Empire by Powell: Quick Thought

Here’s the thing about “Any Empire”: I had no idea what was going on. I read the first third of the book; set it down; picked it up three days later; and I still had no idea what was going on. It was intriguing enough that I restarted it, trying to pick up the thread. There was some coherence, but I sat it down at the end without any great sense of loss from being pulled out of the character’s world.  The story is basically about a young boy growing up.  His best friend is some sort of bullying sociopath.  They live in the south.  A girl comes into play, as does the later life of the children.  There’s not much dialogue, instead the pictures exist to pull the story along (the art is great).  I just wasn’t into it, and I will assume that here it is my fault. 

Praise for Bo Burnham's "Egghead"

Here’s the thing about Bo Burnham.  

He’s smart.

I pride myself on my intellectual abilities.  I was always top of my class; I graduated with honors; I never had to worry about doing well on standardized tests.

But Bo is scary smart.  My wife and I have watched both of his specials, and one of the things we have talked about after watching and laughing at his performances is this premature intelligence  that is blended with an emotional self-knowledge that is rare in someone so young.  I know I didn’t have it when I was his age.  I doubt I have it now.

He has time to grow into it, and I think this book of poems, “Egghead,” may be showing some of what he may look like as a mature artist.  

Egghead intersperses poems that are on the surface easy – meter, unchallenging rhyme schemes, with fun pictures that tend towards the dirty.  The poems tend that way too.  One included in the volume, which was read in the special, extol the virtues of women with little virtue.  I can’t print the title here.

He stands poems like that – sophomoric, juvenile, what have you – with some deep and wise ones.  There is a poem about women’s body images that knocked me flat.  I won’t quote it here because it is short and you need to take that journey yourself.

I can’t wait for whatever Bo has in store for us next, no matter what the medium.