Wine and Spirits Catch You and You Fall Down

The Cricket hosted our latest Booklub, and what a Booklub it was. We were all looking forward to seeing the Cricket's suave pimp pad tricked out with what the Minx refers to as "a sweet spread." Indeed, the Cricket's reputation as a hostess and chef by far outweigh her reputation as a gunslinger. Cricket's book of choice? The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman. For this book we needed lots of spirits! No amount of wine could dull the edge of this sobering read, it was like sliding down a razor blade naked into a vat of alcohol.

But Booklub wasn't all blade-slinging. It started out harmless enough, with Bartelby on hand to greet us. The Escape Goat took this picture of Bartleby doing the breaststroke, his second favorite stroke--next to freestyle, of course. In fact, Bartelby is a retired Olympian who--as you all know--currently serves Gawd and Country as an underwater reconnaissance operative for the Navy Seals, leading a team of mine-sniffing dolphins. When asked about his alleged affair with Ann Coulter, Bartleby was heard to remark, "No comment. I have bigger fish to fry."

Prince Theo finds Bartelby's mystique a bit tiring. They usually get along, but when we went to the Cricket's for Booklub, a spat inevitably occurred and they had to settle the score in a cage fight. Bartelby called Theo a "Pussy," and Theo replied, "You are what you eat! Asshole!" Needless to say, frivolities ensued and the Mayor began passing out riot gear. All this before the Minx--who tends to be fashionably late--had even arrived. As you can see, after a shell to the head, we attempted to revive Theo, but he was catatonic.



Obviously, the Cricket remained nonplused. She is used to such hyjinks. She just tossed some salad with the help of the Escape Goat (who is an expert at avoiding any contest of bloody fisticuffs). You may ask, where were the Mayor and I during all of this drama?

Naturally, we stepped into the brawling cage and had a little altercation of our own. Here the Mayor is featured coping her signature attitude: hands on hips, confrontational posturing, puffed chest, pursed lips, sour glare, head cocked off to the left... Basically, Cyprus Hill summarized it best when they noted, "Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump, left hand on a forty, puffin' on a blunt." As evidenced below, I am an innocent, unsuspecting bystander of the seething rage at my back. That is no Mister Bluebird on my shoulder. That's Picasso's sketch pad with arms and a head!

As if that's not enough! After picking a fight with me, the Mayor made her way into the kitchen where she could freely bark directives and twirl her hair while the Escape Goat and Cricket toiled away. Look! It's Picasso's sketchpad versus Matisse's sketchpad with the Escape Goat front and center to toss a coin at the fifty yard line! An old rivalry rekindled at last...


Not amused with her role as referee, the Escape Goat shot me a bitter glare. But she can't stay dour all night! Why?

Because she loves Booklub...

She even skirted danger by eating an olive--her 29th least-favorite food. A cage fight, dueling sketchpads, and a great book--the signs were good! All of this pointed to an outstanding Booklub on the horizon.

Look at this great spread. There was also the promise of a delicious vegetarian lasagna; we could smell it baking in the oven, and all of this lead to a happy feeling. Despite the serious points tackled in the book, we knew the Cricket would keep the tasty treats coming.



In discussing the book, we all agreed that it was a painstakingly chronicled, intimate glimpse into a tragic collision of cultures. The book includes fascinating interviews and documentation. The account centers around the Lees, a family of Hmong immigrants, who end up in California after vacating war-ravished Vietnam. Historically speaking, the Hmong culture personifies diaspora. That is a hard concept to wrap your brain around, but reading the book makes it painfully clear. The subject of the book is Lia, one of the Lee children born in America who is stricken with a rare and extreme form of epilepsy. Her doctors have a medical definition for her problem, but her parents believe her seizures are a sign of Lia's connection to the divine. To the Hmong, the seizures represent a spiritually elevated trance-like state. Hmong connect the spirit, mind, and body. So, for instance, if you are suffering from depression, it is (in the literal sense) soul loss, and for the Hmong that is--in turn--connected to liver problems. Whereas Western medicine tends to separate the "soul" from the body. If someone is depressed we prescribe drug cocktails and therapy. We don't say, "Oh, it could be your liver and your soul."



As it turns out, the Hmong are highly suspicious of the West's contradictory, seemingly soulless, frigid, and clinical approach towards healing. Think about it--say you woke up one morning in a world full of Hmong and you said, "Damn, I sprained my ankle, someone get me an ACE bandage!" First, the Hmong wouldn't be able to understand your language, so communicating the pain would be hard. You'd have to wait for your ankle to swell. Once your ankle was the size of a football you could point to it and moan. The Hmong would say, "Ohhhh!" and find a medicine man to enter a trance and travel to the spirit world on the back of a phantom horse. For good measure, they would sacrifice a pig to ease the pain. You'd be pretty pissed--especially if you were a vegetarian. You wouldn't want bloodshed and chanting, just an ACE bandage, right? Basically, that's how the Lees felt when the doctors prescribed a complicated series of medications. Lia's parents refused to comply with her medications. Consequently, the doctors--whose intentions were sincere--battle the parents, eventually resulting in Lia's removal from her home and placement in foster care. From that point on it was all downhill...

Lia's increasingly intense seizures eventually result in massive brain damage with a final prognosis of death--that was in the 1980s. She's still alive to this day, and even outlived her father. How? What happens? You'll have to read. Out of all the books we've read for Booklub, I think this one is at the top of the recommended reading list, so you should check it out. Although it's saddening to read, there is an underlying commentary about the strength of the human spirit and will to survive. It is an even-handed, honest read. It's uplifting and powerful, but dark too because something has to be sacrificed for us to have the privilege of peeking into their lives and reading the Lees story. Lots of things get sacrificed; this is a concept that plays out on a number of levels. Even the Sly Little Minx felt pensive after this book. Refill her glass. Don't jump, Minx! It's not worth it!

However, it didn't take long for the Minx to turn her frown upside down. She was all smiles when the Mayor mentioned a flowing poet's blouse and combination quill pen set available for purchase at the Brown Elephant. "YAY! Dryfus can be Keats for Halloween!" she shouted enthusiastically. "Drats," muttered Cricket, "Then who will Theo be?"

Well, Cricket, back to the drawing board for you! I suggest King Tut, but I don't know if you can get your hands on a jewel encrusted sarcophagus by October. Someone! Get the Cricket a light! I believe she'll need to mull her options at this point...

While she's mulling, I'll remind you that the next Booklub will be facilitated by the Mayor of Moneytown. Indeed, she has already made her book choice. I usually don't reveal the author in advance, and this posting will be no different. However, I will note that I am unenthusiastic about this writer's work. I maintain that the Mayor's selection is an act of vengeance in response to Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49, which she rued.


For now, we will rest assured knowing that--once again--a successful Booklub has come to a close. The Mayor raises her goblet aloft in a toast to good literature! But remember...



For every toast to the canon, there's someone ashing in her glass...