Books You May Not Like: The Pickwick Papers, by Charles Dickens

In the midst of The Election, in need of escape, I picked up the Pickwick Papers.

I have owned a copy of this venerable text for ten years, and have dipped my toe tentatively into the first few pages more than a few times.  But always I ended up putting it back, as it seemed there more important things to do, things of more value to read.

But at last in August of 2016, with The Election in full swing and fresh on the heels of Mermaids in Paradise by Kydia Millet, which while funny also has a distinct and very modern sort of "waiting for the end of the world" kind of vibe, I decided I needed to go into a world where there the stress of the modern day really isn't...well, it just wasn't.

So to the Pickwick Papers at last.  The premise, in a nut shell, is that the noble Pickwick, who seems to be a man of moderate wealth such that he really doesn't have to worry about money too much (though he does rather hate to part with a pound), has founded a club which encourages the exploration of one's own back yard.  So Pickwick, with his friends Winkle (the sportsman), Tupman (the romantic), and Snodgrass (the Poet), set off to explore the environs of southern England, eating and drinking copious amounts of alcohol and food along the way.

Hilarity ensues?

Yes, I'd say so, in the beginning of the book.  The ineptitude of these men in their opening adventures is a joyous sort of bumbling that only the English seem to be able to manage so well.  Tupman gets challeneged to a duel over mistaken identity, Winkle is horrible at all sports he applies his energies to, and Snodgross The Poet is always writing in a notebook but, oddly, none of his work seems to survive.  At all turns they are stymied by the conman Mr. Jingle, who seems a rather harmless villain in this day and age, a sort of Max Bialystock kind of guy who charms wealthy single women and then bolts town, creating scandal, which is settled for a fee (i.e. I will leave you guys alone if you give me Twenty Pounds).

Pickwick is joined by his faithful servant Sam, and Pickwick earns his undying loyalty, and there more adventures and some stories within a story and...

And then it all sort of falls apart for me.  The book coalesces around a loose plot and a few subplots, all of which involve marriage.  Pickwick is sued, unfairly, for falsely proposing marriage to his landlady (he did nothing of the sort) in bad faith, loses the case, and is sent to a debtors prison.  He manages to settle and then has to tie up the marriage of Winkle to a Arabella Allen, which is a fine match but has considerable resistance from numerous quarters that only Pickwick, with his noble bearing, can overcome.  Snodgrass and Tupman all but disappear for the final third of the book, we see them on the final pages where there is a nice sort of epilogue that traces the story of the various characters at least for the next few years.

I suppose one should forgive Dickens for any structural flaws.  It was written in pieces, in installments, and if some aspects of the book sort of die in place I suppose that is understandable.

But Dickens....Dickens is just very difficult for me to read, a torrent or words.  You would think Dickens would be right up my ally, being British and from the 19th century, a country and period of time I am fascinated with....but to read Dickens is to wade through a torrent of words that often don't signify.

So this book was very, very easy to put down.  I started in August, finished in November, but in between I read a number of books that I felt were more interesting.  I am happy that I had the perseverance to finish, but I am also glad to put it back on the shelf, likely to go to Goodwill, where perhaps it will enlighten a more joyous and patient soul.

I am Feelng....Kind of Impressed.

We may as well get used to it.

Hi America!

Or should I say....Heil Amerika?

I know, I know.  It's not fair to compare Hitler to Donald Trump.  I mean, for one, Hitler was a way better public speaker.  Mesmerizing, so I'm told.

Second, he was a much better painter.  One room? One afternoon?  Two coats?  Extraordinary!

I've had a couple days to accept the fact that Trump is President Elect.  The day after the election I was despondent.  When I think of all the issues I care about - climate change, a thoughtful foreign policy, honoring our international commitments, equality, common sense gun policy, plain and simple compassion -  Trump doesn't really fit my vision of what I want in a President.  When I think of the Trump we've gotten to know over the past 16 months - Trump the boor, Trump the ignorant, Trump the Twitter Troll - he doesn't fit my vision of what a President should be.  But apparently there are about 60 million people who beg to differ.

So here we are, two days later, and the US hasn't sunk into the sea (yet).  Much like Ron Burgundy felt when he realized that his dog Baxter had eaten a whole wheel of cheese, I find that I am not really mad; I'm actually kind of impressed.  

Come on People!

Look: Hillary Clinton had almost every newspaper backing her.  She had Obama, who is still pretty popular for a second term president, campaigning for her relentlessly, staking his legacy on her election.  She had Obama's eloquent wife Michelle stumping for her.  She had Bill stalking around the country, explaining away on the virtues of veganism, elder statesman extraordinaire.  She had the folksy Tim Kaine and his crazy as shit eyebrows.  She had Beyonce, Jay Z, Lebron James, and Katy Perry all in her corner.  KATY PERRY for Chrisssakes!  Katy.  Perry.

Who did Donald Trump have?  Just himself, his own self belief and over inflated ego.  And a bunch of angry, angry people, and a few people who wanted to make sure the Republicans put a stamp on the future of the Supreme Court.  Yeah, okay, he had John Voight.  I'll take Katy Perry any day.

But Trump won.  Despite all that, despite all the chips against him, despite the fact that he stood alone against the Machine, he won!  It's an incredible, stunning political feat.  A Dewey Defeats Truman of the Digital Age, as the New York Times put it.

And hey, you know, so far so good.  Trump is saying all the right things, trying to be a unifier not a divider, pointing upwards to a thousand points of light that are shining down on our city on a hill.  Rather amazing, considering that only a few short weeks ago we were all apparently in a living hell, running down the streets doing zig zags to avoid ISIS snipers and gang land cross fires while roving Government zombie death squads decided who lived and died at the behest of a corrupt political class that was hell bent on taking our guns away while Mexicans put their taco trucks on every corner and after a lunch of Tortillas and beans set out to take our jobs away, sell drugs to our kids, and rape our women.

Perhaps at last we see the fabled Trump Pivot after all this time?  Or maybe he was just saying those things to stoke up the base and get elected, power the end in itself, just as two faced as the stinking swamp of corruption he is intent on draining.  Or maybe this is just a part of pageantry of power, of the peaceful transition from one administration to the next, as the Democrats live up to their vows to hold that sacrosanct above all other things and Trump exudes the easy magnanimity of victory, saving his vitriol and sweeping agenda for another day.

We haven't sunk into the sea (yet).  But when I consider Trump getting his first classified intelligence briefings, how he's likely to pull us out of the Paris Climate agreements, and the people surrounding him, the Rudy Giulianies and the Newts who are likely to play key roles in the Trump administration, I feel my knees buckle a little bit.  And I haven't forgotten about the alt right.  It's amazing that on Inauguration Day our first African American President will pass off the baton to one of his most relentless attackers, who made a name for himself pandering to the conspiracy theorists about his origins and allegiances,  and who won the endorsement of the KKK.  Disavowed, of course, but still won.

Of course, we've all been promised that we will be winning so much now that we are going to be tired of winning.  Go to, Donald Trump. For the sake of our country I wish you the greatest success.  I for one am trying to keep an open mind and give you your hard won chance to lead our Nation.  But remember that in four years, if you're still up for it, We the People will get the chance to either re-elect you or send you packing.  You're going to have a little performance review, and at the end you may just get to hear those words you made immortal and probably slapped with a trademark:  You're Fired.

Good luck building that wall.  See you next election cycle.