The Giving Tree

This week’s pick is ‘The Giving Tree’ by Shel Silverstein. An absolute classic, it would seem, at least in the USA. (I'm wondering about the UK and the rest of the Commonwealth. Please let me know).

As a non-native English speaker, you can find yourself regressing. You read children’s stories for the first time, long after you left college. By the time I discovered ‘The Giving Tree’, I knew how to tie my own shoe laces. I would go to bed on my own initiative. Copying machines, insurance documents and friends’ weddings had become an established part of my life. Still, this little story left me absolutely shattered.

Check out this animated version, Silverstein is the narrator, which is a nice little extra.

“Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy”. Judging from the first few lines, it could be one of those dreadful children’s books that you find in museum stores. Two pinches of environmental awareness, a whiff of social justice but above all: a celebratory ending with a sound moral.

But the Giving Tree is different. The storyline and language are very simple, yet deep. It is sad as hell and provides no easy answers. In a way, I think it is quite similar to many of the classic Grimm stories for children, which were, well, quite grim and morally ambiguous.

Some people seem to think children’s stories should be about fluffy bears and ponies, and I could see the point. A children’s story that features the line “Life is not fun” could seem a bit daunting. But, then again, why not challenge them a bit once in a while? Treat them like small adults instead of cherubs. And who better to turn to than Uncle Shelby? After all, he's the guy who penned ‘Boy named Sue’ for Johnny Cash!

All this being said, I would probably prefer an edition that does not feature this picture of the author on the back cover. Challenging kids with a bit of a strange story is one thing, recurring nightmares are quite another.

'Wiseguy' and the 'Wiseguy Cookbook'

Brooklyn in the late 1960’s. Having it all, and having it for free. Schemes, swag, bust-outs and loan sharks. To own the judges, truck drivers, the unions and anyone in between. To drink cocktails on a stolen credit card or ‘Muldoon’. Not because you couldn’t afford to otherwise, but because anything tastes better if it’s stolen. Guys named Frankie Manzo or Bruno Facciolo, working for the Lucchese or Colombo crime families. Scaring some very scary fellows. That was the world of Henry Hill. Until he got busted on a drug deal, hence becoming worth more dead than alive to his bosses. He enters the witness protection programme, and tells his story to Mafia journalist Nicolas Pileggi, who records it in ‘Wiseguy’.

By all means, this is a terrific book. It has all the great stories and cracking dialogue that went straight into Scorsese’s great movie adaptation, Goodfellas. “To me being a wiseguy was better than being president of the United States. It meant power among people who had no power. It meant perks in a working-class neighborhood that had no privileges”. Reading about Billie Batts or the Lufthansa Heist is just as thrilling as seeing them on the screen.

On top of this, there are some great stories that never made it in the film. Example: With business thriving and two small kids, Henry and his wife could use a little help around the house. As a wiseguy, however, hiring a maid is a bit unorthodox. You can’t have just anybody cleaning the kitchen, listening in on conversations. So in comes a business partner with the perfect solution: Why not get a domestic servant, straight from the Haitian hills? A real bargain, just 600 dollars. Henry and Karen take the bait, but all does not turn out as planned “When the slave opened the door, she turned out to be over six feet tall and weighed two fifty minimum. My knees went. She was bigger than Paul Vario. We couldn’t keep her. She made the kids cry. She only stayed a day or two, until I could get Eddy to take her back”.

There is more to 'Wiseguy' than war time stories and bragging. Hill is a clever guy. He often takes a few steps back to reveal the hard wiring of crime syndicate, backdrops that few people know about. “There were hundreds of guys depending on Paulie for their living, but he never paid out a dime. The guys working for Paulie had to make their own dollar. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys trying to rip them off. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what the FBI can never understand – that what Paulie and the organization offer is protection for the kind of guys who can’t go to the cops.”

In one word, 'Wiseguy' is priceless. But then, as I found out a few months ago, things get even better. You see, when Tony Soprano sees his shrink, or Vito Corleone strokes his cat, Henry Hill is making a sauce. Long before Jamie Oliver or any other TV chef, these wiseguys made Italian cooking look like men’s business. Just remember the famous prison cooking scene from Goodfellas, slicing garlic with a razor.

After Henry spent all the money he made from Wiseguy and Goodfellas, he decides to cash in on cooking. Result “The Wiseguy Cookbook. My Favourite Recipes from My Life as a Goodfella to Cooking on the Run” by Henry Hill and Priscilla Davis. So, is it a cook book or a tale of crime? Well, both. Most of the recipes come with a wiseguy title and background story. Example, the Fugazy cutlets. “It was from Fat Larry that I learnt my first scam. When he couldn’t get the veal he wanted or it cost too much, he substituted it with pork. He had the whole neighbourhood fooled!”

Now, before anyone thinks I'm writing this with Hill's gun to my head: I wasn’t too overwhelmed by the recipes. Knowing his lifestyle, you could expect the guy to serve up a spicy dish. No-one likes bland Italian cooking. But going by the proportions he recommends, it’s just a matter of days before you OD on garlic. And if you wonder how ‘Tomato Mint Sauce’ could ever taste any different from toothpaste: it doesn’t. If you’re just looking for good Italian recipes, you might want to go with the 'Silver Spoon' instead.

The book has other merits, though. There is some very sound intelligence in there, both practical hints (don't flour eggplants beforehand) and general advice. I can only agree with his rules of Italian cooking: “On a budget, use little of the good stuff” or “Cook either very fast or very slowly”. You can tell the guy is passionate about cooking, and it gets very contagious. More than any other cooking book, it makes me want to rush to the kitchen and start slicing some tomatoes. And what more could you ask for, ya schnook?

More next week!

Welcome!

Hello and welcome to Bookambish!

I might as well admit it right away: I am a bookish guy. Ah, the original out-of-body experience, all by looking at a sheet of paper. Sure, I have had stints as a judoka (yellow belt), skateboarder (ollie, not the kickflip) or bedroom DJ. But nothing has ever worked quite as well for me as sitting down and reading a nice book. Over time, I have come to accept my bookishness. And now, I plan to come out in the open, share a few nuggets I found while panning the information stream.

"Which kind of books?" you might ask. Well, I shop in many departments, my impetuous friend. Anything goes: novels, evidently, from every era and continent. But why stop there if you could read a bit of cringe self-help literature, a study of animal behaviour or a slightly disturbing childrens' book?

Poetry is where I draw the line. I guess I just do not have the patience. More in general, I am not a fan of 'spot the symbolism', phallic or other. So if you are in need a few more deep thoughts on Jane Eyre for your exam paper, best of luck and run along. Unlike a few other bloggers out there, I will not be entertaining you with the links between events in my personal life and those of fictional characters. Mr. Toad springs to mind.

Just a few thoughts on decent or funny books, then. And the odd song or picture to liven it up. The picture by Adrian Tomine below was once on the cover of 'The New Yorker'. I love it to bits, and imagine it would send tears to the eyes of any author.

The same probably applies to my own reading habits. I get pretty voracious, skipping parts, making big dog ears, on purpose, to indicate a page I like. Cardinal sin: I listen to music while reading. And to make matters worse, I will be recommending a song or two on this very blog.

Let's start by choosing a 'Bookambish anthem'. Keith Mansfield is labeled ‘library musician’ so that might fit. This one, Funky Fanfare, has become pretty hot. It has been sampled a lot recently, and original copies now go at the price of a kidney.

Before I sign off, one more Tomine pic, a bit more upbeat this one and a good reason for keeping a blog.

Hope you'll enjoy it. More next weekend!