“Baker Towers”: https://amzn.to/3WybUSq
1
This book is SO good…
whenI know this is the third missive of the day. But I didn’t quite like the tone of the first two. I don’t want to always come across angry. I am oftentimes indignant. I guess that’s a result of feeling so powerless. In order to have power you must have position. And the way most people get that is via the organization, where you have to get along to move up the food chain. All that b.s. about doing what you love and the money following… Is just b.s. There’s a skill to making money. And even though my father had it, I didn’t. Because I wasn’t him. Ultimately, to succeed you need to be a salesman. For me selling is anathema (I know I like this word). I don’t want to foist anything upon anybody, I don’t want to fake it to make it, I don’t want to justify my actions by saying it’s a dog eat dog world, or I’m just trying to feed my family. But it took me decades and a ton of psychotherapy to both learn how to get along enough to make money and to understand and own who I am.
To live outside the law you must be honest. That’s me. I’m not hyping anything for pay, not taking a single dollar, even though people still think I do. All I’ve got is my identity and my thoughts and my ability to express them. I love doing the radio show and the podcast, but first and foremost I’m a writer. And when I think about it I was super into reading from a very young age. It’s just about all there if you’re willing to put in the effort, and it’s so exciting!
I just learned that Sean Hannity never believed in the Big Lie. I was doing my back exercises as I was waiting for my Mac to update and I saw the headline in the “New York Times” and it changed my mood. That’s what’s strange about real life, you can feel so plugged in and so distant at the same time. You want to be part of the action but you find yourself outside. And then if you get close enough you realize that the main goal of so many on the inside is to keep you out, and to make you think they know something that you do not, which is patently untrue.
So, I wanted to write about being sick last night. But if I’d done so, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep until the sun came up. Creative work is very different from traditional deskbound work or manual labor, which tire you out in a different way. Creative work not only wrings you dry, it leaves you on a high, which takes hours to come down from. Which is why rock stars do drugs, because they can’t come down from the performance. Also, if you’re not willing to let go, your creative juices will not flow. You can’t do it by a clock. You’ve got to wait for the mood, for inspiration. I got too much e-mail about doing the work consistently, and I understand that, unless you’ve done a lot of work you can’t lay down greatness… But the truly creative know what is great and what is not, and very little is. And today people are only interested in great.
I can be writing the second sentence and realize what I’m writing ain’t great. I won’t say it’s excruciating, but it’s very disappointing. I want to keep making it to the top of the mountain but it’s so hard to do, can be done so rarely. However, I finish what I start, because you never know where it will take you. That’s right, writing is fun and insightful, and if you’re not finding it that way you’re doing it wrong. Screw outlines, screw a ton of preparation, screw rewriting, all that’s boring and usually sucks the soul out of your writing. When done right, writing is human. Forget the criteria proffered by the pooh-bahs, it’s self=justification. Most can’t write themselves, or are too afraid to walk into the wilderness and trust themselves. Which is why oftentimes what is vaunted by the critics is unreadable.
Not that the public should be trusted either.
Goodreads told me that “The Maid” was one of the best books of the year. Normally I don’t read genre fiction, but with this kind of support…
The writing was stilted. But ever since “Gone Girl” you’re waiting for the big change, the unexpected, when the book goes from black and white to color, when you’re thrilled and mesmerized. But not “The Maid”… How could people read this dreck?
I haven’t finished Susan Straight’s “Mecca,” about Southern California, it got amazing reviews but it’s hard to plow through. You get riveted by the narrative and then it jumps and you find it hard to continue, at least I do. I’m looking for a book that calls out to me, like “Baker Towers.”
2
I couldn’t get off TikTok. The algorithm was showing me exotic car stories. Lord only knows what made it present them, but the first one was about a valet who told the owner of an exotic car that he owned one too. The story was lengthy, but good. And then there was another one about taking a cop for a 196 mile an hour ride in one of these exoticmobiles. And then the Ferrari that the speaker bought for 31k. T-Pain had given it to an up and comer and the electrics had been blown and it would cost 9k to fix it and the young rapper didn’t have the bread.
Now I don’t want an exotic car, and the whole field is becoming a sideshow in the era of electrics, but this rabbit hole was fascinating. Here were these regular guys, who owned fleets of exotic cars and were wheeling and dealing and… There was the story about the sap on the emblems every morning. Turned out someone was urinating on them.
It’s a big wide world out there and we are exposed to so little of it. That’s what makes TikTok interesting. All the people! Living their lives! We see such a very few in traditional entertainment, and the message is massaged, but raw unfiltered humanity? Thrilling! I’d like to go everywhere and meet everyone, everybody’s got a story and I want to hear it. That’s why I love doing the podcast, I love getting someone’s story.
And “Baker Towers” is the story of a family in rural Pennsylvania, back during the Second World War and beyond.
Dirty little secret?
I haven’t finished it. But I got the urge to write about it and I wasn’t quite sure I’d be in the same mood tomorrow, when I finished it.
This is one of the reasons I love the nighttime The early risers have already put in their time, the day is mine. It’s dark. My mind can percolate. There’s a reason most creative work is done at night. When the phone calls, e-mail, texts, etc. quiet down. When people drink and smoke and become somnambulant in front of the TV…that’s when I come alive.
You can’t force creativity… Well, you can. But you can’t force greatness. It surprises you. And then you have to capture lightning in a bottle. And if you realize what you’re doing is great usually it stops being so. When you hear about people channeling an outside force, that’s right. You feel it, you lay it down. You don’t want to mess it up. Springsteen has gone on record that the feeling has left him, that he’s not inspired. Now let me tell you, I’m sure the Boss can write songs, just not great ones, not without that inspiration. And if you do it long enough you only want to do great work. Forget the hype, acts saying their latest work is their greatest, that’s salesmanship, not artistry. But at the core is artistry.
3
It started with “Mercy Street.” One of the best books of the year.
I’d already read “Heat and Light,” but I wasn’t on the Jennifer Haigh train. After “Mercy Street” I was, I’ve gone back to her catalogue. Remember when you discovered an act and went back and bought all their previous albums? Well, today acts need to be successful out of the box. And if they become successful enough it’s about brand extensions and enhancement, the work is not enough because there’s not enough money in it and money is everything these days.
Which makes me wonder why Jennifer Haigh writes novels. Because there ain’t that much money in it, only for a very few, and it’s nowhere close to what even second-tier musicians make.
But publishers want to keep the business small. They don’t want to turn it into the music industry, where the labels have lost control.
Music is down and dirty, education is irrelevant.
Publishing is all about your CV, where you went to college, and if you grew up on the east coast you know what I’m talking about. Your pedigree justifies your existence, makes your life complete, which is why parents clamor for their kids to go to the elite institutions, it rubs off on them as well as their kids! And if you graduated with an English degree, you don’t want to get a doctorate, there are too few teaching jobs available, so many go into publishing. Of course there are exceptions, but… Salesmen, even A&R people don’t feel superior in the music business, but in publishing…
Which is all to ask why Jennifer Haigh hasn’t been anointed, this woman’s writing is absolutely fantastic. Elizabeth Strout has broken through, and deservedly so. I wish Jennifer Haigh were lifted to the same level.
And even though Haigh went to the Iowa Workshop, in truth you need no CV, no education to be an accomplished author. The same thing with music. I hate to say this, but artists are born, not raised. Sure, many creative people fall by the wayside, but art is a calling, and either you’ve got the goods or you don’t. Talk to all the boomers who tried to become rock stars. They might have thought they were good and then they encountered someone who was really good, and gave up and changed professions, maybe they went to work for the label or concert promoter. Only a very few truly have it.
And Strout didn’t make it until she was relatively old. She was in her forties when “Amy and Isabelle” hit. At that age you’re on the scrapheap in the music business. Yes, most of these authors suffer, a lot, before they make it. Then again, too many hacks talk about suffering when in truth they should just give up.
And if you think the HBO version of “Olive Kitteridge” supersedes your need to read the book…you couldn’t be more wrong. That’s what’s so great about Strout’s writing, the feel, the vibe, which cannot be captured on screen, as good as Frances McDormand is. I know, I tried.
I’ve only seen one movie that was better than the book, and that’s Michael Chabon’s “Wonder Boys.” The film starring Michael Douglas with the original Bob Dylan song was superior.
4
I’d start with “Mrs. Kimble.” And then go to “Faith.”
I held off reading “Baker Towers,” because it’s my last unread one.
Writing is a skill, which the author of “The Maid” certainly does not have. And Haigh is light years beyond Susan Straight. Forget content, first and foremost a book must be readable, it must hook you, it must be inviting. And these are not the criteria focused on by most people. Same with music, I must want to listen to it. If I have to force myself…why? God, too many kids have had boring books foisted on them in school to the point where they no longer read. But if they were steered properly…
Once again, you can’t be highbrow. Ever hang with a bunch of rock critics and discuss great albums? Their favorites are the Velvet Underground and Patti Smith, and although some of those acts’ tunes are relatively accessible, playing the artists’ albums would turn many listeners off of music completely. And if it’s popular it must be bad. There’s so much stuff that’s great that the critics pooh-pooh. They hated Led Zeppelin and the Doors too. But that’s some of the best stuff out there. And although Joni Mitchell is getting a victory lap, a lot of these critics were down on singer-songwriter music back in the day. Had to be edgy, had to be punk. Fine for them, but not for most people.
First and foremost “Baker Towers” is a story. Story is the essence of a book. Which is why so much literary fiction fails. The word choices work, but there’s not enough story. Plot first.
You can see the family living in company housing in the coal town in western Pennsylvania.
Those towns have died, but they used to flourish. Live long enough and you see what you thought was bedrock die. Like landlines. Or cassette decks (don’t buy the comeback hype, a sheer novelty, a bad format to begin with and nobody has a player anyway).
And another weird thing about growing up is what you thought was abundance is now meager. I grew up in a split level house too small for today’s average family. They want three or four thousand square feet, and a yard and a pool. I remember sneaking in to see the in-ground pool on Barry Scott Drive, it was the only one in the neighborhood. And kids get cars when they turn 16. Life changes, accept it or be left behind and become irrelevant.
But humanity remains the same. Family obligations. Relationships amongst siblings. Choices. They’re unpredictable, but we all experience them.
So it’s Christmas. Want to learn about life? Want to feel connected?
Put down that nonfiction book you got as a present, the one by the self-professed expert, the rich person who is going to give you instructions. They don’t know, and even if they do, it won’t apply to you. No, the key is to broaden your inner life. That’s where the rewards are. Both personal and societal. The more you understand people, interactions, the richer your life will become.
Is “Baker Towers” the best book I’ve ever read? Far from it. But I want to read it, it’s fulfilling. And Jennifer Haigh has performed the trick more than once. Forget the statistics, Haigh is a winner, check her out.
