D a l l a s R o b b i n s

The most cynical and disagreeable character in the history of literature...

Of course I haven't said enough about The Prague Cementery yet, so let's indulge a little more.  I couldn't help but share this perfectly intriguing letter by Umberto Eco for Amazon.com readers.  I know it's just another piece of marketing, but to hear Eco talk about his own book before it is released  seems out of character for him.   Regardless, I find the letter interesting on a few levels.  Enjoy:

Dear Amazon Readers:

The nineteenth century teemed with mysterious and horrible events: the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, the notorious forgery that later inspired Hitler; the Dreyfus Case; and numerous intrigues involving the secret services of various nations, Masonic sects, Jesuit conspiracies, as well as other episodes that—were they not documented truths—would be difficult to believe.

The Prague Cemetery is a story in which all the characters except one—the main character—really existed. Even the hero’s grandfather, the author of a mysterious actual letter that triggered modern anti- Semitism, is historical.

And the hero himself, though fictional, is a personage who resembles many people we have all known, past and present. In the book, he serves as the author of diverse fabrications and plots against a backdrop of extraordinary coups de théâtre: sewers filled with corpses, ships that explode in the region of an erupting volcano, abbots stabbed to death, notaries with fake beards, hysterical female Satanists, the celebrants of black Masses, and so on.

I am expecting two kinds of readers. The first has no idea that all these things really happened, knows nothing about nineteenth-century literature, and might even have taken Dan Brown seriously. He or she should gain a certain sadistic satisfaction from what will seem a perverse invention—including the main character, whom I have tried to make the most cynical and disagreeable in all the history of literature.

The second, however, knows or senses that I am recounting things that really happened. The fact that history can be quite so devious may cause this reader’s brow to become lightly beaded with sweat. He will look anxiously behind him, switch on all the lights, and suspect that these things could happen again today. In fact, they may be happening in that very moment. And he will think, as I do: "They are among us…"

--Umberto Eco

So, what I really want to know is who is this most cynical and disagreeable character of Eco's creation?  That is quite a set up, which I'm not sure what to make of it just yet.

What to read something disturbingly frightening for Halloween?

Everyone loves Peter Pan.  It’s a perennial childhood favorite, in books, plays, musicals, songs, art, films, the list could go on.  The recent film Finding Neverland in which J.M Barrie, Peter Pan’s creator, is played with the romantic charm of Johnny Depp, leaves the audience with a story of hope, imagination, and tenderness.  Mr. Barrie must have been such a wonderful person, and George Davies, the boy who inspired Peter Pan, what a plum lucky kid he must have been.

Awhile back I was browsing in the a local book store and came across Neverland: J. M. Barrie, The Du Mauriers, and the Dark Side of Peter Pan by Piers Dungeon.  After reading just the first few pages, I was gripped by a story I was not aware of.  Not enough cash on me at the moment, I went to the library to pick up a copy.  I hate to parrot a cliché, but I literarily could not put this book down, until . . .  well I’ll get to that later.  But here is the scope of the book,

 From Michael Dirda at the Washington Post:

There might be scarier books this Halloween season, but it's unlikely that any will be as luridly creepy as "Neverland." Even if you already know a little about the sinister background of J.M. Barrie's classic play, "Peter Pan," you will be in for a shock. In these pages Piers Dudgeon presents a multi-generational history of psychological domination and submission, unnatural family relations, predatory abuse and suicide. He also connects three great works of the popular imagination: George du Maurier's late-19th-century bestseller "Trilby" -- the novel in which the evil Svengali, through hypnosis, transforms a beautiful tone-deaf girl into a singing sensation but in the process destroys her soul; J.M. Barrie's death-haunted "Peter Pan," once titled "The Boy Who Hated Mothers"; and Daphne du Maurier's Gothic romance about spiritual possession, "Rebecca."

This book delves into the family histories of several people, exploring the fateful moments, deliberate manipulations, and pernicious abuse that occurred over decades, in which these literary creations were born from.  Even D.H. Lawrence once said after the passing of one Sylvia’s boys Michael, "J.M. Barrie has a fatal touch for those he loves. They die."  And I thought Lewis Carroll was a little creepy – he apparently can’t hold a stick to J.M. Barrie.

And it is not an easy read.  After reading for a couple days and getting to the midway point to the book, it had a dark disturbing effect on me.  I didn’t sleep well.  I would become slightly nauseous thinking about it during the day.  I think I even had a nightmare.  It was simply a grisly reading experience.  So after about halfway through, I had to force myself to stop.  I may one day go back and finish it, but at that moment I just couldn’t go on.  It seemed like a tragedy without any possible catharsis.  (The only other time I had to stop reading a book due to sleepless nights and disturbing dreams is Whitley Strieber's Communion, but that's another story for next Halloween.)

And while Dungeon’s exploration probably reveals more truth than not, it is a little on the sensationalist side.  Since I am not an expert in the area of Edwardian children's literature and literary scene, I'm unsure which historical arguments are tenuous and which are more grounded.  The book has been criticised for being too high on emotion and low on some particular details.  But even if half of what is revealed in this book is accurate, it’s tragedy enough.  

Regardless, I highly recommend this book.  It reveals very interesting aspects of later Victorian and early Edwardian culture and customs.  It gave me a deeper respect of Daphne duMaurier as a writer and turned me on to her short story collection, Don’t Look Now.  But most importantly it reveals a story that needs to be told.  Hopefully another writer in the future will expand on Dungeon’s good work, correcting his mishpas, while having a more academic approach.  Even so, it couldn’t be no less disturbing a story than before, and is one helluva frightening read for Halloween.  As one critic has summarized, "I defy you not to be captivated."

The Story of the Cathedral of the Madeleine by Gary Topping: City Weekly

The history of a cathedral is not just about another nice building, but also about the struggles, triumphs, and personal histories of a people. Gary Topping, professor of history at SLCC and archivist for the Roman Catholic Diocese of Utah, chronicles in his new book The Story of the Cathedral of the Madeleine, the first 100 years of that magnificent building and the stories and voices of Utah Catholics.

George D. Smith's Nauvoo Polygamy

With an endless stream of books on polygamy and its discontents, do we really need another one? If the answer includes mention of Nauvoo Polygamy: "… but we called it celestial marriage" by George Smith, it would be a definitive yes. Ten years in the making, Nauvoo Polygamy traces the origins and establishment of Joseph Smith's vision of "spiritual wives" before it ever stepped foot in the State of Deseret. The book should dispel forever the common misperception that Joseph pined after only one wife and that polygamy was Brigham's idea while crossing the plains.

Massacre at Mountain Meadows

The first sentence of the book Massacre at Mountain Meadows sums it up perfectly.

"On September 11, 1857, Mormon settlers in southern Utah used a false flag of truce to lull a group of California-bound emigrants from their circled wagons and then slaughtered them.  When the killing was over, more than one hundred butchered bodies lay strewn across a half-mile stretch of an upland meadow.  Most of the victims were women and children."

The Mormon Church on Trial

After Mitt Romney dropped out of the presidential race, many people gave a sigh of relief that we would not have to possibly endure years of Mormon jokes delivered on late night television. But a century earlier, Reed Smoot—an LDS Apostle who was elected to the U.S. Senate—caused an even greater media controversy.