Steven M. Finkelstein

The latest story of mine to be published is called “Separate Ways,” and it was part of my second collected edition, Desperate Race For Freedom. I wrote it for one of my classes during the senior year of my undergrad, back in ‘04. It will be appearing in the online mag Farmhouse, the second time a story of mine has been featured there. The new issue will be launched early in October, and you can check it out at www.farmhousemagazine.com. This particular story has never been featured anyone prior to this, either online or in print, so I encourage you to give it a read, and the other fiction by emerging authors on the Farmhouse site as well.

This is the fifth and final post in my series of five, describing the works of my five favorite authors, and what each of their writing has meant to me. I’ve enjoyed this project, so I think you can expect to see more “favorites” lists in the near future. Today’s author is Cormac McCarthy.

Cormac McCarthy I consider to be possibly the best American author alive today. He was born in 1933, and has written several novels and plays. He won the Pulitzer for his novel The Road in 2007, and his novel No Country For Old Men was made into a movie last year by the Cohen brothers which won an Academy Award for Best Picture, and was indeed the best movie I saw last year, a 10 out of 10. Some of his other notable works include Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West, which is, really, truly, criminally good, undoubtedly one of the best books I’ve ever read, and Suttree, which reads like a modern day Huck Finn and is also one of my favorites ever. His epic Border Trilogy, comprised of All The Pretty Horses, (which has also made it to the big screen), The Crossing, and Cities of the Plain, are also very strong.

The action of McCarthy’s books often takes place in the American West, New Mexico, Texas, Arizona, and across the border in Mexico. Whether they are historical pieces, such as Blood Meridian, take place in or around modern times, like No Country for Old Men, or are visions of an apocalyptic future, like The Road, which is also due out soon in movie form, his characters speak little, letting their actions dictate how they are meant to be viewed and judged. They are often tough, stoic, and resourceful, and their worlds are places of sudden, brutal violence. But McCarthy’s violence is unlike any other kind that I have encountered elsewhere in literature. In Blood Meridian, one of the most horrifyingly graphic novels I’ve read, not a drop spilled is gratuitous; quite the opposite, in fact. MCCarthy’s works imply the possibility of a regeneration and a rebirth, a renewal through violence, violence as cleansing, as a teacher, as a way of life more pure, more sanctified, than any other religion could ever hope to be. His vocabulary is simply stunning. I regard myself as having a better than average command of the English language, but there’s not a page of McCarthy’s prose that goes by that doesn’t have me running for a dictionary. If that sounds difficult, it is. This stuff wasn’t meant to be easy. But if you stick with it, the rewards will be great…greater than you could ever hope for sitting through church, mumbling to some imagined deity. But the violence aside, McCarthy’s writing also does something that I’ve really never seen any other writer accomplish. It reads like a combination of poetry and prose, or perhaps I should say, like prose as poetry. It’s really kind of uncanny. The effect of the writing style in Suttree and Blood Meridian in particular is completely and totally unique. I could never even attempt it, not that I have McCarthy’s vocabulary to work with.

To sum up, I’m not ashamed to admit that this is a writer that I am completely in awe of, to the point of even being a little afraid. Though I idolize him, I’m not sure I’d ever want to meet him. I don’t know what I would say. I’d be scared to death. I spoke of some people being almost religious about Stephen King. But King’s work is literary junk food, and he can never hope to be more than that. McCarthy’s writing is manna, the stuff of legends, dreams…blood drenched nightmares. To start out, I would recommend Blood Meridian, or Suttree, but I’ll come right out front and say this: there are going to be plenty of people, who, like Hemingway, just aren’t going to get it. How much of the general population is going to appreciate writing like this? I’d be hesitant to even venture a guess. But if you’re reading this blog, and you’ve gotten this far, then I’d like to flatter myself by thinking that you might respect my opinion, reader, and if you do, read Cormac McCarthy. It’s that simple. I recommend him the highest of any of the Big 5, though his stuff may be the most challenging. As for you, McCarthy, you are a living legend, and I’m embarrassed to even be writing about you, you who have accomplished more in your writing than I could if I lived a hundred lifetimes. I am your humble servant, maestro. Write on.    

This is the fourth in my series of entries profiling my five favorite authors. Today it’s John Irving, master of the eccentric family novel. Irving achieved bestseller status in 1978 with The World According to Garp, his fourth novel, which is not to say that his three previous efforts were not worthwhile, though he might have still been discovering his voice, as his writing, in my opinion, has gained strength later in his life. It goes one way or the other with writers; they either mature with age, or they burn out early. Some of his other works include The Hotel New Hampshire, an odd yet touching story of a peculiar family and their travels that features an incestuous relationship between siblings as one of its primary plot points. Irving’s novels are full of eccentric people behaving oddly, but unlike, say, Stephen King, another of the Big Five, who resorts to the supernatural to fuel his stories, Irving always remains firmly grounded in reality…up to a point. The reality of Irving’s stories is reality according to Irving, as his narratives, seemingly, could all take place in real life, but the laws of probability indicate that they wouldn’t. Later works include The Cider House Rules, which was made into a movie, as was The Hotel New Hampshire, but, most would argue, The Cider House Rules was the more successful adaptation, garnering an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for Michael Caine, as well as helping to launch the careers of Charlize Theron and Tobey Maguire. A Prayer for Owen Meany was his next effort, also set in New England, dealing principally with the subjects of religion and belief, but avoiding any of the preaching that often accompanies these topics. Irving is a great one for encouraging discussion of taboo or delicate issues without coming down heavily on either side of the argument. Later works include A Son of the Circus, one of my favorite Irving novels, though it received mixed reviews. It’s about a doctor and a movie star hunting for a transvestite serial killer in India, and yes, it’s every bit as much fun as it sounds. The past decade he has also added A Widow for One Year and The Fourth Hand to his resume, both worthy efforts.

Irving’s novels are densely layered, his characters complex, his stories compelling, and his mastery of the language absolute. He is one of the most accomplished American writers of the past fifty years, in my opinion, and a national treasure. Unlike Stephen King, from whom we can expect a new novel every year, or sometimes even two, Irving comes out with a book every four to seven years. It’s always worth the wait. His novels are meant to be savored; he captures the mystery in the mundane, as a professor of mine once said was essential to a strong narrative. His characters are often flawed, but his novels are not. I’ve known friends who championed his writing to the point of approaching strangers and preaching the gospel of Irving like street corner fanatics handing out religious brochures. There are many worse religions to have, and few better ones. If in my fiction I can suck a reader in one tenth as well as Irving does, I would consider my own career a success. For the first time reader, I would suggest A Prayer For Owen Meany, or The Hotel New Hampshire, but by all means try A Son of The Circus at some point. Be forewarned, these are not frivolous undertakings. Irving’s writing is meant to leave an impact, emotionally and psychologically, and it seldom fails to do so.          

This is the first movie review I’m posting on the site. There will be more to follow, as I’m going to try and review every new movie that I see. For years, as it relates to movies, I’ve been using the 1-10 scale for rating. Here’s just a few quick words on how my system works. For me, a 5 is average, but it also means that fifty percent of the movie was redeemable. In other words, if I’d been in charge of making the movie, a 5 would indicate that fifty percent of the movie I would leave untouched, and the other fifty percent I would change, either by altering the content, or just by leaving the unwanted elements out of it entirely and going back to the drawing board. There’s a little more to it than that, though. There are some movies that, while there isn’t anything really objectionable about them, because of the genre or the content the filmmakers chose to tackle, it’s extremely unlikely that a very high rating is going to be possible. Use, just as an example, a horror movie or a screwball comedy. I like both genres, but the best horror movies I’ve seen usually score an 8, or in very few cases a 9. I don’t think I’ve ever given a horror movie a 10 out of 10. Probably the closest I’ve come is Jaws and The Shining, both of which received a 9. The same with comedies. Going into Harold and Kumar, or something like that, even if the movie accomplished everything it was trying to, it’s probably not going to score higher than maybe a 7 with me, tops. There are definitely comedies that I’ve given a 10 out of 10, but nothing recent, as in, nothing that’s come out in my lifetime. A 10 out of 10 comedy example? Marx Brothers, Duck Soup.

As far as 10 out of 10’s go, I give them very, very infrequently. I usually give out 1 or none a year. For a movie to be a 10 out of 10 with me, it needs to be more than just flawlessly acted and cinematically perfect. That usually earns a 9 out of 10. It also needs to be making a definitive, specific statement about the time in which it was made, or the time that it’s supposed to depict. It should also have acting performances in it that define the careers of the actors and actresses, that come to stand as the pinnacles of their careers. The same should be said for the directors. When their legacies are weighed and measured, the 10 out of 10 movies they directed should be spoken of as their first and finest contributions. Some movies I’ve given a 10 out of 10? In the past couple of years, two come to mind. Last year’s Cohen brothers film No Country for Old Men, (based, incidentally, on a novel by Cormac McCarthy, one of the Big Five), and, from a couple of years ago, the Scorsese film The Departed. Scorcese is one of the few directors who have multiple 10 out of 10’s, as I also awarded one to Taxi Driver and another for Goodfellas. Some other 10 out of 10’s that I’ve awarded include Citizen Kane (that one’s a no brainer), Vertigo, Chinatown, and Easy Rider. I think that’s enough about my system to go on, and in the future, I won’t bother with the long winded explanation.   

Burn After Reading is the Cohen brother’s follow up to No Country For Old Men, which was not only a 10 out of 10, but the 2007 Academy Award winner for best picture of the year, and for good reason, as it was indeed the best film I saw in ‘07. Burn After Reading, which was written, directed, and produced by Joel and Ethan, is their way of blowing off some steam after a much more serious effort. Here, we have them being a little folksy, as Burn After Reading employs some of the same comedic effects as The Big Lebowski, probably the other film of theirs most similar to this. It’s typical Cohens all the way around, the appearances of Frances McDormand and George Clooney, both of whom they have tapped for previous roles, and also appearing, Brad Pitt as an idiotic physical trainer, Tilda Swinton as a self-involved bitch, and John Malkovich as an alcoholic ex-CIA employee. Everyone performs admirably, as this cast is fully capable of, and the Cohens are up to all their old tricks, including sharp humor usually derived from snappy banter, off color characters that act increasingly more irrational and violent as the plot moves along, and the throwing together of sub-stratas of society that in reality should never have anything to do with each other. It moves briskly along, and in fact is the shortest Cohen brothers movie I can ever remember seeing, at about an hour and thirty-five minutes. There isn’t anything wrong here, really, if you’re a fan of the brothers and their work. They’re an acquired taste, I know, but if you’ve seen some of their other efforts, and you’re still going to this film voluntarily, then you should know what you’re in for. In that respect, I wasn’t disappointed. The only drawback I might mention, as it relates to the film, is this. Yes, we’re talking about simple-minded people here that are supposedly being pushed to their limits and reacting as best they see fit, which usually serves only to bungle things up even further. That was the case in The Big Lebowski, or earlier Cohen efforts, like The Lady Killers and Blood Simple, and its much the same here. The problem, as I see it, stems from suspension of disbelief. Perhaps I should have tossed the very concept out the window before going into the theater, as this is the Cohen brothers we’re talking about, and they’ve made a career out of showcasing inept people behaving ineptly. But really, this just seems like a bit much. The excessive violence that you know is coming not only doesn’t seem justified here, it doesn’t even seem the tiniest bit believable. I just don’t buy these characters’ motivations, and funny as it is to watch them fumble around, I found myself thinking to myself “Are we supposed to believe that people at all like this exist, anywhere in society, especially in positions as prominent as some of these characters are supposed to hold?” It might not be fair to even assess the movie in such a way, and if that’s the case, setting the gripe aside, what we’re left with is an amusing romp that quenches the thirst for profanity, tomfoolery, and death by repeated axe blows to the head. If you’re looking for realism, look elsewhere. If you’re looking for a heaping helping of irreverence, flawless cinematography, and brand name actors making asses of themselves, then this is the flick for you, my rating: 6/10   

Just a quick update on the latest publications in which my work will be featured. Back in May I mentioned on the site that three of my stories would be published in the lit mag A Written Portrait. I’ve recently been in contact with A Written Portrait’s administration, and they tell me the production of their new issue featuring the first of those stories will begin approximately September 10th. They say the new issue should be available through the website starting around the last week of September. If you live in the Riverview, Florida area in which the magazine is produced, there may be retailers from which you can purchase it directly, though I’m not one hundred percent sure on that. Contact the magazine’s administrators to find out at www.awrittenportrait.com.   

This is the third of my series of five author profiles, specifically, my five favorite authors. On tap today, Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway was one of a group of writers to expatriate to Paris in the 1920’s, and several of his stories take place there. A member of the so-called “Lost Generation,” a World War I vet who wrote extensively about the nature and character of war, Hemingway was a journalist as well as writer of short stories and novels.

Hemingway is not for everyone. I’ve known plenty of fellow students, both in high school and college, who hated his writing. His terse prose and mastery of understatement make him a standout, both among his contemporaries and in “modern” times. But make no mistake, Hemingway was a master of his craft, a writer who was capable of saying more by saying less than anyone else I’ve ever encountered. His short stories, with their halting, at times uncomfortable prose, his novels, that shine a penetrating light into the often times cruel, callous nature of humanity; these are literary treasures that more than stand the test of time. They have as much to teach us about each other as they do about writing, especially now, mired as we are in the midst of a pointless, seemingly neverending war begun under false pretenses.

For the first Hemingway reader, I might suggest A Moveable Feast, a collection of short stories dealing with war, nature, and drunken reprobates, the usual fare for this particular writer. Hemingway felt a powerful connection with nature, and his love of fishing, hunting, and outdoor adventuring predominates much of his work. His opus, The Old Man and The Sea, might be another good choice; he won a Pulitzer for it in 1953, despite the fact that this was probably the most complained about assignment for my high school English class. I was one of the few who found it a rare treat, rather than a chore. Other selections I’d recommend are For Whom The Bell Tolls, which takes place during the Spanish civil war in the late 1930’s and is based in part on Hemingway’s experiences there covering the war as a journalist, and The Sun Also Rises, a bullfighting epic set mostly in Pamplona that brings to life in gruesome detail that cruel pseudo-sport, (as it was referred to by Lisa Simpson.)  Others equally good are the short story collections Men Without Women, and In Our Time, if you don’t feel like tackling one of the meatier novels.

Hemingway is the writer I find myself turning to, time and time again, when I want to read from the perspective of a man who found comfort in the earthy, eminently satisfying pleasures of the flesh: food, drink, women, a walk in the woods, and the spilling of an animal’s blood. A man among men, a heavy drinker, a womanizer…all those things Hemingway was, but his sight was always clear and steady. His body of work serves as a testament to those who seek for answers and find those answers all around them, constantly and conveniently near at hand.