The Book of Basketball

Simmons is a writer of ephemera. His Page 2 on ESPN is a reliably entertaining time-killer, and his weekly picks keep me abreast of the NFL season. But the thing you most want to see when you visit is an NBA column. Bill Simmons knows basketball, and is the rare observer that sees things even a relatively hardcore fan (me) will miss. When he announced his candicacy for Minnesota Timberwolves GM, all his readers went, “Hahaha… hmm…” Frankly, it didn’t seem that ridiculous. Simmons, besides being a trade machine guru, seems to have a good handle on what a team needs to succeed.

With that in mind, I was excited by the recent release of his definitively named tome, The Book of Basketball. (A deep discount at Amazon didn’t hurt.) But after reading it, the title seems a rather ridiculous claim to authority. My suggestion: A Book of Basketball. Like Simmons’ web articles, it will keep your attention, but sometimes only barely. This is dispensable stuff, which is fine when you’re writing ephemera, but not when you’re writing a big book like this.

Mad Men Recap, “The Gypsy and the Hobo”

HEADSHOT. AGAIN.

Mad Men turned in another solid episode on Sunday, but it’s clear the show is struggling with Season Three Syndrome.

Mad Men Recap, “The Color Blue”

Whenever you’re a writer outlining a long piece of fiction, you have certain moments you keep in your hip pocket, beats you know will occur in the storyline and propel it forward. It’s a relief to have those at your disposal, especially if the tempo is beginning to stagnate and you need to jolt it back to speed. Betty’s opening Don’s drawer was one of those moments, the kind Weiner laid groundwork for in Season 1.

Climbers

Best known for his visionary Viriconium stories, as well as quantum sci-fi Light and Nova Swing, Climbers is M. John Harrison’s 1984 foray into the mundane. Considering his genre leanings, even his rendition of our world comes off as slightly skewed, strange in subtle but telling ways. For better or worse, Climbers is vintage Harrison, a style guide for his brilliant but sometimes mechanical prose.

Wee Small Hours

“You people,” says Don. It is “Wee Small Hours” best moment, a reminder from Weiner that Don Draper is not somebody to like, and that he’s also one of the most interesting characters on TV. It is a surprising line, not for its cruelty — Don has excoriated underlings before — but its implied accusation. You had it coming, Don is saying. Within the context of Don’s mounting pressure and powerlessness at work,  it’s obvious he’s taking every opportunity to lash out at those weaker than he and try to salvage the superiority he values so highly. But to blame Sal for being gay is an abrupt 180 from the sensitivity and discretion Don showed on the flight back from Baltimore. And then you have the fact that Don has so frequently been Lee Garner, the sexual aggressor willing to bully his way into bed. Later in the episode Don does just that with Sally’s teacher. So where does this “You had it coming?” mentality come from?

Mad Men Recap, Souvenir

While the ladies squee up front, Henry Clay basks in glory.

Mad Men’s third season has been all about stretching its legs. New characters, new stories, and new ways of telling those stories. In episode 8, “Souvenir,” the show breaks out of the S-C secretarial pool and goes to Rome. The Drapers visit at the request (read: edict) of Connie Hilton, and what’s ostensibly a business trip very quickly becomes a referendum on the Draper marriage. “Souvenir” deals with Betty’s dissatisfaction, and the impossibility of escaping such a deep-seated discontent with something like a vacation. It also shows what kind of bad behavior Pete Campbell gets up to while everyone else is on vacation.

Mad Men Recap, Seven Twenty Three

HEADSHOT.

In a show with such lavish sets and meticulous period details, it makes sense that objects often become much more than set dressing. Mad Men employs symbols frequently, ranging from the obvious to the obscure. There have been golden violins, Don’s Caddy, and an ant farm. In this season Dream of the Fisherman’s wife stands out, as Don asks, “Wait, who am I?” Weiner’s symbols invite that question, but don’t always provide an answer. A lot of the show’s depth comes from these moments when the viewer can construct some meaning for themselves, so that’s the game we’re playing today.

Mad Men Recap, Guy Walks Into an Advertising Agency

His Foot! His Goddamn Foot!

Mad Men has had some shocking moments over its 2.5 seasons. There’s the dramatic surprise (Roger’s affair with Jane), the character outburst (Betty slapping Glen’s mom), the bizarre (Polly the dog going Jaws on that bird). But John-Deereing-the-New-Boss has stolen the crown, unseating even Don’s fingerblast. Yes, Don’s digital assault was about the last thing you’d expect, but at least it was screened by Bobbie Barret’s skirt. This tractorblast, if you will, made me think I’d stumbled onto an altogether different show. Guy MacKendrick’s mangled wingtip was as gruesome as the Korean war flashbacks — as Roger says, “It’s like Iwo Jima out there.” I talked last week about how the show is beginning to stretch itself, and experiment with new modes of storytelling. Last week we got a taste of the surreal, this week we got a taste of B-Movie slasher flick. In honor of the tractor which ended LimeyDon’s all-too-brief reign, a replay:

Click to play.

Mad Men Recap, The Fog

Yes.

Season 3 feels like it finally hit its stride with “The Fog,” but not all of that can be attributed to the man above (though Duck’s return doesn’t hurt). Weiner’s change motif finally gelled, and the pieces are starting to rumble into place. Pete’s getting reamed by Roger, pressured by clients, and is suddenly presented an opportunity with Duck; Peggy needs cash and is starting to bump against the glass ceiling at SC; Betty had a kid with very little fanfare; and Don spent the episode talking to a prison guard.

Inner Workings

Inner Workings is a collection of criticism from Nobel Laureate — and personal favorite — J.M. Coetzee. Coetzee, whose fiction is pruned and never purple, demonstrates an able command of the critical essay, though his strengths are his argumentation and dizzying reading list rather than any natural compatibility with the form. His intimate knowledge of how fiction works and vast reading permits him to make keen insights, but it also makes him at times irritatingly confident in his judgments.