Summer Reading
I was going to wait until next week to give an account of an arranged date, organized by the Art Institute of Chicago, between two artists of different mediums and eras brought together by their innovative creativity in the world of comic book art. As a voyeur in this blind date of creative entrepreneurs I hope to attend the Art Institute's summer book club discussion next week. Inspired by the largest exhibition of the influential Pop artist Roy Lichtenstein and the Pulitzer Prize winning novel by Michael Chabon, the Art Institute of Chicago continues its tradition of integrating literature with current exhibits. Tune in next week for a sneak peek at the exhibit and the book discussion. I'm enjoying the book so much I thought I'd give it a hearty "Go Read This!" even before writing a review. Chabon's writing is so incredibly gifted and insightful that you will want to linger upon every sentence like a cool sip of lemonade on a summer day. Pop art and comic book illustration as a means of capturing the imagination is new to me. Reading Chabon's novel I now understand for the first time the appeal of comics. The fantasy of transformation, escape from the mundane, and good triumphing over evil offers, in the words of Chabon, "a necessary counterbalance to the daily trial of mere coping and an inoculation against its wasting effects."
In recent days I've reflected upon the uncanny timing of the course I audited last fall on Russian writers Tolstoy and Dostoevsky (See "If Life Could Write" or "Thoughts from Dostoevsky"). Rumbling in my mind are Dostoevsky's words about the complex cocktail of good and evil that characterize the heart of man. He writes, "The awful thing is that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man." The complexity of discerning what is good and what is evil can be so elusive in the mundane moments of our lives that we are left with a muddy gray that is as unappealing as the slow growing mold on a shower floor. But comics are different. In the world of the innovative comic book illustrators of Chabon's novel evil is vanquished, the weak are protected, and good triumphs for all to see. This was the magic of comic books in their nativity. This same magic comes alive in the pages of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, and I am happily lost in a book that whisks away my imagination. What more could be asked of summer reading?
In recent days I've reflected upon the uncanny timing of the course I audited last fall on Russian writers Tolstoy and Dostoevsky (See "If Life Could Write" or "Thoughts from Dostoevsky"). Rumbling in my mind are Dostoevsky's words about the complex cocktail of good and evil that characterize the heart of man. He writes, "The awful thing is that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man." The complexity of discerning what is good and what is evil can be so elusive in the mundane moments of our lives that we are left with a muddy gray that is as unappealing as the slow growing mold on a shower floor. But comics are different. In the world of the innovative comic book illustrators of Chabon's novel evil is vanquished, the weak are protected, and good triumphs for all to see. This was the magic of comic books in their nativity. This same magic comes alive in the pages of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, and I am happily lost in a book that whisks away my imagination. What more could be asked of summer reading?