Meet Me in the Bathroom

 Meet Me in the Bathroom: Rebirth and Rock and Roll in New York City (2001-2011) is an oral history compiled by Lizzy Goodman. Despite two good bookending essays, Goodman's words aren't part of the long book, which is, I suppose, how most oral histories are written. It was an entertaining read. The subject matter--a renaissance of sleazy garage rock after the trends of the 1990's--was mostly lost to me at the time: I had started college and dropped out of following music trends. Only later have I been introduced to, and enjoyed, bands like Interpol, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Walkmen, and the National. According to the book, the most influential of these is the Strokes, and while I'm not as taken by their music, I'm convinced now that they were perhaps the last great rock band before the internet changed music forever. Indeed, much of the landscape of the music scene and music industry is explained thoroughly by Meet Me in the Bathroom. I feel I understand the world better. I also know more bands, whose catalogues are now two decades old, but whose music--to me at least--still feels raw, fresh, and vital. 

I, Claudius

 I, Claudius by Robert Graves is another historical fiction novel I've read this summer (I've been into historical fiction for some reason). Narrated by the title character before he becomes the fourth Emperor of Rome, the novel is deliberate and craftsmanlike. It carefully establishes important figures and events in Claudius' periphery as he grows into adulthood, overlooked by almost everyone else in the royal family. The narrative perspective is fascinating: he will underplay off-scene atrocities and focus on seemingly bland details. This lulls the reader into accepting the slow progression of history until the final quarter of the novel, when it all explodes during the reign of Caligula, Claudius' nephew. Caligula was monstrous, a narcissistic sociopath that very nearly killed everyone around him. We become relieved that in a violent coup, our narrator inadvertently takes the throne. There's a sequel to this book, Claudius the God, which details his actual reign. I look forward to reading it, as I suspect that Graves maintains the narrative perspective--often unreliable, full of blind spots, and deeply rewarding to careful readers.  

The Fraud

The Fraud by Zadie Smith is an engaging historical novel. Her first in the genre, the story tells of multiple, real-life "frauds" that lived in her neighborhood of Willesden, in north-west London, in the nineteenth century. The chapters are short and brisk--it's a quick read. The characters' concerns range from the banal (literary celebrity) to the devastating (slavery in Jamaica). Holding these in tension, the overlapping storylines and perspectives are rooted in real events, and the connections are complicated and often surprising. The Fraud is a labor of love for Smith, fascinated as she is by her London roots and its history. Just like White Teeth, just like NW, just like Swing Time, this novel mines multicultural London for true glimpses into its humanity.

Smith is one of our great writers, and this novel was often funny, often troubling, and always absorbing. It never broke pace, sometimes to a fault. Her short chapters kept me turning the page, but some of the more difficult subjects--relating to slavery and colonialism--felt underdeveloped. The chapters set in Jamaica were too hurried. In my final judgement, the tremendous scope of The Fraud kept it from feeling as balanced as Swing Time or NW, Smith's excellent two previous novels, set as they are on smaller stages. Still, I admire good old Zadie Smith for her rare willingness to write across genres, and across time periods, and maintain terrific characterization, wit, and empathy.