First Love and a New Flame

The stars were in alignment for last Saturday's Freret Market. Heavy rain Friday morning and all day Sunday, but a beautiful day in between, high of about 83-85, overcast clouds fluctuating with bright sunshine, and a good day for Deep South Samizdat Books and all the beautiful people daring to take control of their own personal evolution, refusing to succumb to the temptations of the twittering (I)pod people with their stunted attention spans that would embarass a hummingbird.

Sorry about that tirade, I must be channeling the still very much alive Harlan Ellison, the subject of the great documentary Dreams With Sharp Teeth, directed by Erik Nelson. For those who don't know, Ellison is a writer and editor who works primarily in science fiction, his favored forms being short stories, essays and teleplays, all of which he has won numerous awards for. His short stories include the unarguable modern classics "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream," and "Repent, Harlequin! Said the Ticktockman," and his novella "A Boy and His Dog" was made into a cult classic movie starring a very young Don Johnson and the dog from the Brady Bunch.

I discovered Ellison, like oh so many, as a teenager, and I would identify him as my first favorite writer. Much of his work was still in print in mass market and trade paperback editions, and I would pick them up at B. Dalton in the mall (there's a blast from the past for you, huh?). Before I read Vonnegut or Kerouac or Ginsberg or Hesse or even Philip K. Dick, I read Ellison, and my mind was twisted and molded in so many formative ways by his themes and his passion. "I Have No Mouth" depicts a technologically distopian future in which the victorious machines are even more sadistic than Terminator and more godlike than the Matrix, while "Repent" is a brilliant broadside against the tyranny of punctuality. But just as important to this reader were the introductions, in which Ellison settled scores, expressed his political opinions, praised mentors and lamented the intellectual deterioration of the times. They were often eruditely vulgar, like the best of Lenny Bruce or George Carlin, and they took no prisoners. Ellison marched from Selma to Montgomery for civil rights, opposed the Vietnam War, campaigned for the Equal Rights Amendment, and evidently came very close to a physical confrontation with Frank Sinatra in the mid-60's. The man is unapologetically left liberal, and would make a great talk radio host (for at least a few hours, until he had a heart attack [not his first, I might add]).

Friends and colleagues, including Neil Gaiman and Robin Williams, are featured in the documentary, which is pretty straightforward in its construction (talking heads, archival footage, biographical info, contextual analysis), with some great readings from the author's work and some choice rants. If I can actually let go of it and release it back to Netflix, you can even get it from them soon.

And now to my new flame. Musician and author Ned Sublette has released two remarkable books about New Orleans in as many years, both absolute jewels of both monk-like meticulousness of research and heart-on-the sleeve personal engagement. Both were the direct result of a research fellowship at Tulane, an investment the university should be profoundly proud of.

The World That Made New Orleans (Lawrence Hill Books) was released in 2008, and is a densely comprehensive history of the city's first century. Sublette has been affiliated with the radio program Afropop Worldwide for many years, and has written extensively about Cuban music and culture, and emphasizes the connections between that island nation, Haiti and New Orleans as provocatively as he does the more obvious complexities of the relationships with Spain, France and finally the United States. The subtleties of the different cultures' conceptions of slavery are sublime, and expressed with a masterful balance between scholarly objectivity and appropriate moral outrage, particularly the explanation of the utter centrality of slave trading to the antebellum Southern economy. Not as a mere component of the agrarian system, mind you, but the buying and selling, and particularly breeding, of human laborers, as the linchpin itself.

Sublette also considers the importance of New Orleans as a historical crossroads of the crucial revolutions of the 18th century: American, French, and... if you said Haitian, you win the prize. The author's description of the events of the Haitian Revolution are an incredibly concise history lesson, rendering that country's more recent tortured history that much more tragic.

The Year Before the Flood: A Story of New Orleans (Lawrence Hill Books, 2009) is the more personal of the two books, combining personal memoir with an account of the time that Sublette and his wife spent in the city during his fellowship year, framed by the festivals, celebrations and funerals which he argues frame the time of the city in its unique way.

Sublette spent some years of his childhood in Nachitoches, and describes Jim Crow north Louisiana in vivid anecdotal detail. He says at one point that he learned at an early age that movies would lie to him and music would tell the truth, and he deftly analyzes the effect of both mediums on him. He also provides a great overview of the unique Shreveport music scene of the 1950's, centered around the all-white Louisiana Hayride, the black blues and r'n'b scenes, and the gambling dens and strip clubs in Bossier City where the two would clandestinely mix.

There is no question that Sublette brings great affection and appreciation to his portrait of New Orleans, but I would argue that it's strength is magnified by the reticence that is ever-present, as well. Much is made of the contrasts between New Orleans and Sublette's home city of New York, where it seems as if more of his life is centered around walking and around the night, both of which seem potentially perilous in his temporary Irish Channel neighborhood. That discussion, as well, is handled with grace and appropriately-directed anger at the dynamics responsible.

Finally, there are several fascinating asides to this memoir, where a particular New Orleans institution is put under a microscope and dissected respectfully by this guerrilla anthropologist. I learned a great deal about the history of WWOZ and the development of the unique New Orleans rap scene and its contributions, for example, and Sublette's experience of Mardi Gras melds the personal, political and historical humorously and exhaustingly enough that it will bring back memories (mine included drinking High Life on the couch outside the Maple Leaf at the end of Mardi Gras Day, bikes propped against the wall, mission accomplished).

Alright, enough already. No one's paying me for this yet, and I should get to bed, so I'll be fresh for my phone call from the New York Review of Books tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. The next post will include the updated Great New Orleans Market Bestsellers List. I know, I know, it's overdue, but you'll just have to be patient. Peace, y'all.