How to Be a Hermit, or a Bachelor Keeps House

How to Be a Hermit, or a Bachelor Keeps House

by Will Cuppy

Blurb:

Humorous memoir by a socially-challenged book reviewer living alone in a shack on an island off Long Island, New York, in the 1920s.

My Reaction:
I had never heard of Will Cuppy until we found him on a list somewhere, recommended to fans of P.G. Wodehouse.  We started with The Decline and Fall of Practically Everyone, which we thought was funny in parts, but could have been better.  (You really need to know more ancient history than either of us do to get a lot of the jokes.)  

I believe it was in the afterward for The Decline and Fall that we read that Wodehouse himself was a fan of Cuppy—specifically, that he read How to Be a Hermit multiple times a year!  I don't know if that's true, but it was a good enough reason to try it ourselves, and I'm glad we did.  I found this book much the more entertaining of the two, and while I won't make an annual tradition of reading it, I certainly wouldn't mind returning to it at some point.  

If you're a fan of Wodehouse, I do think you might enjoy this—if what you love about Wodehouse is his ability to turn an amusing phrase.  If intricate plotting is what you're after, then no, you won't like How to Be a Hermit.  It really has no plot.  It's just a loosely linked collection of essays about his life as a "hermit" in the 1920s.  The majority of the essays relate to food in some way, or that's how it seemed to us as we read our way through them.  

I always find it amazing how much the same the human experience remains across time.  Admittedly, the 1920s aren't ancient history, but 1929 (when this was published) is nearly a century in the rearview mirror!  So many of the things he wrote about here had me nodding along in agreement.  There might be some differences (his medical book compared to our "Dr. Google"), but the results are the same (anxiety and convincing yourself that your minor complaint is a symptom of any of a dozen serious diseases).  

Because we'd already read a brief outline of Cuppy's life, certain elements of the book took on a darker, more melancholy tone that they otherwise would have had, thanks to an awareness of what lay in his future—but putting that to the side, this was a fun read.  I'll be interested to try more of his work!

The Egg and I

The Egg and I
by Betty MacDonald

My Blurb:

In the late 1920s/early 1930s, a very young wife supports her husband in his dream of running a chicken ranch in a very rural part of the Pacific Northwest.  This humorous memoir recounts the trials and errors of building a life on the isolated ranch, interactions with outlandish neighbors, and assorted musings on the beauty of the Olympic Peninsula. 

My Reaction:
I found The Egg and I to be thoroughly readable, often interesting, and frequently amusing (though only rarely laugh-out-loud funny).  It is true that her some of her stereotypes jar on modern sensibilities, but it may help to remember that the author and her work are products of their time, which should alleviate at least some of the insult.  (How would any of us fare, if judged by the standards of certain other eras?  In one way or another, I'm sure we'd fail to measure up.)  Indeed, the copy I read had what amounted to a disclaimer or apology as a foreword, written by MacDonald's children on behalf of the woman herself.  If their mother had still been alive, they assured the reader, her views would have changed with the times.

Because this is a memoir (and one written twenty years down the road from when the events took place), I find myself wondering how accurate certain portrayals are.  For instance, her husband sounds absolutely awful to me (despite the fact that we are told repeatedly that he's handsome and handy and a natural at chicken-ranching)-- so perhaps it shouldn't have come as a surprise to learn after reading that she eventually divorced him.  (I'm much more surprised that after she re-married, she and her second husband also took up chicken ranching!  I would've thought she'd had enough of that lifestyle.)

Then there are the neighbors and the Indians... I have no doubt that at least most of the specific incidents she relates were based in truth, but... wow.  That sums it up: WOW.  No wonder some of her neighbors sued her after the book and the film came out!  I did wonder how she dared publish some of those depictions, if these people were still her "friends" and neighbors.  It explains a lot that she had since moved away.

While reading, I had the passing fancy that it would be even more interesting (to me, personally) to read a similar account of rural life in my own little section of the country, back in the 20s/30s, when my great-grandparents would've been carving out lives of their own from this wilderness, with its own set of challenges, beauties, and bounties.  Then I paused and had second thoughts.  I don't know that I'd like to read this author's version of the area and the people...

My biggest surprise was at the foul language (of certain secondary characters) and the distastefulness of some of the topics addressed.  I knew little about the book, going in-- just that it was a funny book about chicken "farming" and that it had been made into a movie in the 40s.  I guess I foolishly assumed that the book would have the same flavor (and comparative innocence) as your typical humorous 40s film.  I was certainly not expecting so much cursing (though it's mild compared to what you can easily encounter today)-- not to mention things like "laying up" (extramarital affairs), abortion, syphilis, alcoholism, etc.  Of course those things existed back then, but I wasn't expecting to encounter them in a humorous memoir of the period.

Though parts of the book were amusing, it also had many moments of bleakness, unhappiness, and disgust.  I found it an odd mix.  It also seemed to end rather abruptly.  Since it's a memoir and not a tightly-plotted novel, that may be par for the course-- but it felt abrupt, all the same.

I wouldn't mind reading some of the author's other memoirs, at some point-- especially Onions in the Stew.  At least I now know what to expect!

The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir

The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir
by Bill Bryson


(Edited) Blurb:

Bill Bryson re-creates the life of his family and his native city in the 1950s in all its transcendent normality—a life at once completely familiar to us all and as far away and unreachable as another galaxy. It was, he reminds us, a happy time, when automobiles and televisions and appliances (not to mention nuclear weapons) grew larger and more numerous with each passing year, and DDT, cigarettes, and the fallout from atmospheric testing were considered harmless or even good for you. He brings us into the life of his loving but eccentric family, including affectionate portraits of his father, a gifted sportswriter for the local paper and dedicated practitioner of isometric exercises, and OF his mother, whose job as the home furnishing editor for the same paper left her little time for practicing the domestic arts at home. The many readers of Bill Bryson’s earlier classic, A Walk in the Woods, will greet the reappearance in these pages of the immortal Stephen Katz. He is joined in the Bryson gallery of immortal characters by the demonically clever Willoughby brothers, who apply their scientific skills and can-do attitude to gleefully destructive ends.

Warm and laugh-out-loud funny, and full of his inimitable, pitch-perfect observations, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid is as wondrous a book as Bill Bryson has ever written. It will enchant anyone who has ever been young.

 
My Reaction:
First, I edited the publisher's blurb mainly because it was way too long-- but also because parts of it felt misleading-- as does the title itself, imho.

This (a read-aloud with Donald) was my third time reading Bryson's works.  The first was A Walk in the Woods, which was amusing or educational in parts, odd in others.  The second was... I'm not sure of the title... Life on a Small Island, I think.  We were disappointed that it seemed to be geared toward the English-- or at least people more familiar with the lay of the land than we were-- and spent too much time talking about how much things had changed since his first time passing through the area.  (Fascinating for a native, but not for us.)  We eventually decided that since we weren't enjoying it, it wasn't worth our time, so we left it unfinished. 

So, this one... It was extremely uneven, from my perspective.  I enjoyed some of it, but not all-- or even most of it...


--  The parts about Bryson's family were probably the strongest sections of the book.  Some of the other reminiscences were also entertaining (such as the chapter about the rural town where his grandparents lived).

--  If you grew up in Des Moines, Iowa -- especially in the 1950s/1960s-- you're probably more likely to enjoy this book than are the rest of us. 

--  The little "history lessons" took up too much of the book.  A few of them were interesting, but at some points, I skipped paragraphs.  (Honestly, I wondered if some of them were even accurate.  It's difficult to inspire confidence when you bounce back and forth among obvious hyperbole, "embellished" memories, and history.)  I wanted a book of humorous personal recollections-- not this author's version of national history.  I was annoyed that Bryson couldn't resist the temptation to occasionally inject his political opinions into the book.*  It's not funny, Bill.  It seems petty, and it alienates a good portion of your audience-- not that you care.  (Also, you've spent most of your adult life in England, so... You know what?  I don't really give a flying fig what you think about the U.S., politically or otherwise.  ~insincerely sweet smile~)

--  There was a little too much "Oh, how things have changed for the worse!" -- "So much has been lost!"  --  "Big chain stores and fast food franchises killed the glory of the tiny, mom-and-pop shops and charming diners!"  --  "Americans work too much!" -- "Consumerism is evil!" -- etc.  I think he tried not to be too preachy, but... I still got that vibe.  That obnoxious Baby Boomer attitude.  That insinuation of "Thank God I was born when I was, because the world's gone to hell in the meantime, and you kids of today will never know what you missed!"   

--  What was with all the gross stuff?  I could've done without it-- but if you took it all away, goodness only knows how many pages you'd have to remove.

-- On a similar note: What was with all the profanity?  Yeah, I know the 50s weren't as squeaky clean as black-and-white sitcom reruns might have us believe, but... Meh.

--  Some of Bryson's memories that were meant to be humorous were actually more disgusting-- or shocking-- or just plain unpleasant and mean-spirited than they were funny.  Take, for example, the bit about going to the lake with that kid he didn't like.  We were waiting for something funny to happen, but no.  The funny/wonderful part was that some people little Billy didn't like got hurt while he watched.  (They hadn't even done anything to him to give him a reason not to like them-- or at least, the memoir made no mention of it, if they had.)  Then there's all the hooliganism.  (Glorified hooliganism, at that.) Exaggerated for humor's sake?  Maybe, but... still not funny.  Also, I realize that at a certain age boys develop a natural curiosity about and fascination with the female form, but it was emphasized perhaps a little too often for my tastes.  (Didn't the rotten little brat think about anything but naked women?)


Based on other reviews I've skimmed, it seems that Bryson's "travel books" are better than this memoir, so maybe I'll still try one or two of the others-- In a Sunburned Country sounds promising-- but I won't be keeping our (library book sale) copy of this one.


* One of his more obnoxious political comments comes near the end of the thirteenth chapter:

"A quarter of young American males were in the armed forces in 1968.  Nearly all the rest were in school, in prison, or were George W. Bush.  For most people, school was the only realistic option for avoiding military service."

For your reading pleasure:  Was author Bill Bryson a draft dodger or draft evader during the Vietnam War?  (I leave you to draw your own conclusions regarding the pot calling the kettle black.)