HOOKED ON A HORN - Memoirs of a Recovered Musician by Gene Hull

Trafford Publishing
Victoria, BC V8T4P4 Canada
www.trafford.com
Genre: Memoir
Rating: Highly recommended
ISBN: 1412067219, $22.00, 261 pp, 2005

As I specialize in reviewing POD published book, I regularly receive memoirs–twenty-five in the past four months, to be exact. In addition, I have reviewed novels based on the true-life experiences of the authors: Clouds Are Always White on Top by Nolan Lewis, Battle Downunder by Charles Rush and Fears Flutterby by Rose Lamatt, to name a few. Memoirs are written for many different reasons: to share a problem, loss and insight with others; to help work through the loss of a loved one; to share travel adventures and aspects of different cultures; to purge one’s soul–confess our human foibles; and, in the end, to remember and immortalize one’s own life.

Hooked on Horn is indeed a memoir, but in many ways, so much more! It’s a sea adventure, a musical adventure, a small insight into our greatest jazz musicians in eras past, a family adventure, a mother’s pride for her son’s success. It is the story of a young man’s dream, begun at age 10, and his disciplined ‘alpha’ efforts to make that dream come true.The parts of Gene Hull’s life that he has chosen to share about his professional musical journey are entertaining, educational, humorous, musically enlightening, heart wrenching, poignantly inspirational and presented with a creative flair. Gene has been in the music/entertainment field just about all his life. He has put together a number of bands, been on the road with big-name bands, conducted bands and produced shows. Prior to retiring, he produced award-winning productions and ice shows for Royal Caribbean International.

Several stories conjured up a tear or two. The first is about the 1962 Newport Jazz Festival. Gene’s group, the Jazz Giants–a band of ex-professional musicians who wanted to play interesting big band arrangements, was selected to be the guest opening band. This was their big opportunity! Allow me to quote several passages:

"Months zoomed by with extra rehearsals, arrangements being polished, new ones written, PR mailings to hundreds of jazz fans, stories and interviews in local papers, even radio interviews. Interest in us steamrolled. We were becoming a household name in Connecticut. . . .

"We kicked off our program at 8:00 PM. I don’t remember a note we played; it went so fast. But I do remember the brass section screaming out into the night with colossal fire. The saxes steamed together like bonded brothers and took their ensemble sound to another level. From our first note, the energy and drive poured over me, almost putting me in a trance. The band was like a locomotive. Get out of the way everybody. Here we come.

"The applause was generous from the sell-out crowd who had come expecting to see the famous. . . . In reality most every player had managed to play close to his best at the same time. A rare moment for us. I was proud to stand up there in front of this real band of brothers, who had laid it out for all to hear. This is who we are, world."

They were expecting the album from the 1962 Newport Jazz Festival to be their "big break." But, as fate would have it, all the tapes were spoiled by an electronic quirk. There would be no album, and ultimately, the Jazz Giants’s sound was lost with no ‘recorded’ history. If Gene was 12 in 1941 when he received his first saxophone, he would have been 33 in 1962.

The second story took place over forty years after that Newport Festival. Peter, one of Gene’s eight children, tracked down the live recording of the 1962 Festival and contacted the Library of Congress."The Gene Hull Orchestra, The Jazz Giants," had been recorded at Newport '62. A single CD could be assembled from the tape and made available with permission of the producer and for non-commercial purposes only.

"Peter chose a family reunion in 2003 to present Gene with the CD of the live recording.""Just looking at the packaged CD placed before me gave me a jolt like a sudden electric current. Shivers came right from the stomach. Then I completely lost it.

"Dad," my daughter Amy whispered, "why are you crying? I’ve never seen you cry."

"I don’t know."

"But I did know. I was seeing my yesterdays. My grown children as wide-eyed little kids, asking me where I was going. And me telling them, "Straight up." The Jazz Giants rehearsing at Bill’s Castle. A boy sitting on a bus on a cold winter night, clutching his first saxophone wrapped in a pillow case. All the jazz concerts the band had played. Katherine Hepburn scolding me. Benny Goodman captivating me. Paul Whiteman berating me. Woody Herman and Duke Ellington making me feel humble. Las Vegas dazzling and disappointing me. The years with Damone. Elvis greeting me with such honesty. The miles of piled-up travel. And saying good-bye to a teary young family on the front porch, as I’d leave to seek fame and fortune on yet another road trip. . . . I tried to tell my family that this CD was more than just a recording, that their lives were in it as much as mine. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t find the words. They knew.We listened to the CD together. The sound of the band–its energy and musicality–far exceeded the memories I had parked away. Now suddenly the sounds were alive and bright again, clearer than ever.The look on their faces was worth the struggling years. The kids understood at last why the Jazz Giants had been one of the most important musical accomplishments of my life, and appreciated what it took to create it.""

So, if that doesn’t grab you, you’re either dead or nothing will. I highly recommend this delightful, entertaining memoir. The second edition comes with the CD so that we too can enjoy the sound of the Jazz Giants.

Reviewed by Kaye Trout - September 2006

LANTERNS IN THE MIST by Edward Fotheringill

Lanterns in the Mist
Edward Fotheringill
Cockeysville, MD 21030
Booklocker.com, Inc.
Genre: Mystery/Metaphysical/Thriller
ISBN: 1591138841, $14.95, 240 pp, 2006

Lanterns in the Mist is the most enjoyable book I have read since I began reviewing POD published books . . . for both the story and the beautiful quality of writing. About the story, I quote from the back cover:

"Part murder mystery, part philosophical discourse, part supernatural thriller, this novel explores the unexpected dimensions of both the light and dark sides of human nature. At the still center of the world lies the energy of pure potentiality, pure possibility. As that energy unfolds outward and manifests itself, anything can happen. We human being are left to interpret the happenings and endure them. We are rarely successful at either."

"Set in and around Baltimore, Maryland, the story chronicles the intersection of several lives gone strangely off course. At the center of it all is Father Dick Byron, a renegade Catholic priest who, despite his loss of faith in Christianity, has become an instrument of God. What Byron discovers is that life on earth is not unlike a Shakespearian drama where the forces of nature, however, inscrutable, are not to be denied."

This story is unique with its many twists and turns and spiritually enriched by metaphysical elements woven expertly throughout the fabric. To my mind, the author tells it like it is, plus he has a refreshing style of writing--short chapters moving to you-know-not-where, which do not fill in all the details, and yet, you understand what has happened. The attractive cover was designed by Julie Sartain.

The book begins with:
"Dreams. Dreams in the unfolding fertile awareness of the human race. Flickering images, never completely transparent, appearing and disappearing across the screen of human consciousness. Dreams breathe through the pulse of a subject, inner landscape which is, at the same time, paradoxically personal and collective. Some dreams flash-out during the waking state. They pick us up and compel us towards our destiny. Some dreams germinate out of the sleeping state. They reveal fragments of meaning, fragments of our possibilities. They are the fabric out of which myths are woven."

"Then, there is The Dream. The Dream in the Mind of God. This Dream has no boundaries, neither personal nor universal. It includes everything because it includes no-thing. Everything possible in the waking state is there. Everything possible in the sleeping state is there. This Dream displays no fragments, only the totality of pure possibility. This dream harbors all myths before their time."

I highly recommend this book to mystery lovers, to readers in search of themselves, to readers on a spiritual path, and to intelligent readers who can appreciate the author's literary gifts.

Edward Fotheringill has taught philosophy for 24 years, from 1979 to 2003. He is currently a free-lance jazz drummer in Baltimore, Maryland, and leader of the Ten Directions Jazz Group. He and his wife, Linda, divide their time between Baltimore and Bridgewater, Vermont. I hope we will see more novels by this very talented author. Thanks for the great read!

Reviewed by Kaye Trout - April 15, 2006 - Copyright

COLORADO CLOUDS by Helena Gunther

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A NARCISSIST by Jonathan Foster

The Autobiography of a Narcissist
Jonathan Foster
Early Morning Press
1731 Brown Street, Napa, Ca 94559
Genre: Literary Fiction
booklocker.com
http://autobiography-of-a-narcissist.blogspot.com
ISBN: 159113871X, $15.95, 260 pp, 2006

In this "fictional" autobiography, twenty-seven year old Tyler LePerdu shares his journal with us–a journal begun at the suggestion of his mandatory-to-receive-his-inheritance therapist, Jean, which tells us ‘maybe’ this man has a problem.

And, of course, such a journal can’t help but be somewhat narcissistic (an excessive interest in oneself and one’s physical appearance) as it reflects one man’s perspective on life based on his experience and observations. Tyler’s focus on his appearance and that of others–the "Beautiful Class"–certainly is part of his problem and what does that say of our culture in general? Stephen King’s thoughts about sanity from Danse Macabre are: "we are all insane . . . just to different degrees."

So, what is the heart of Tyler’s problem as he searches for Love? . . . to Love and be Loved, which he knows instinctively exists, though he has not experienced it. He shares with us that at an early age he shut down his emotions after hearing his beautiful mother slam her bedroom door so as not to hear him crying. From that night, Tyler was at odds with his insensitive, socially-active, money-controlling mother, somewhat reminiscent of Harold and Maude, though Tyler was not obsessive about death . . . he was obsessive about appearances.

He believes that he is in Love with Susanna, an exceptional beauty, but is unable to tell her. The ending of this Love is the beginning of Tyler’s reconnection with reality and his emotions.Here are three excerpts which I feel are central to the story and which illustrate the author’s style and gift.

First excerpt is from page 56:
I submit to you, my dear reader, that now more than ever mankind hungers for the guidance of Beautiful Class! In this rapidly changing world where a scientific theory can be unveiled, awarded and then disproved in the same week; a world where new computers are obsolete before they’re taken from the shelf; a world where street lingo changes by the hour and where the imprisonment of our favorite movie star can leave us curiously unsettled, mankind needs the stability that a beautiful face can bestow. We need a cultural continuity that can only be provided by someone tall and tan and young and lovely. You see, in the modern world, beauty is no longer merely an aesthetic preference; it has developed into a source of cultural security that is more comforting than any mother’s arms, more calming than any known antidepressant, and more solid than the planet Earth itself!

Second excerpt is from page 57:
Before I launch into the story of our second meeting, however, let me remind you that by the time she (Susanna) walked into my life, I was so far differentiated from the common experience that I’d begun to accept that a life of solitude was my destiny. I’d realized at a very young age that mine was a very different road in life. Mine was a road less traveled by people. Rather, a road with virtually no other travelers on it . . . .

I’m sure this must sound to you like a very sad existence, that of all the roads to be traveling on, mine is the road most lonesome. It is. The only real way to survive it is by coming to a complete and honest acceptance of solitude. It requires courage and determination. It requires that one avoid the pitfalls of self-doubt and its red-headed stepchild, depression; that one keep a watchful eye on Emotion’s clever and never-ending little shell game; that one maintain strict standards of self-worth by being very selective about whom one gets too friendly with. These things I have long since achieved. I have always known that my life was meant to be lived by myself. Still, I have always secretly held a hope that one day I would discover someone just like me standing in the middle of my path. A bird of my own feather. A Frick to my Frack. Someone in whom I would see the same seeing of the same someone in me. But much more than holding hope, I was determined, if only for my desire to find Love. I knew that I needed to find that rare someone who was programmed with my same intuitive wiring to accept the obvious "what" and move on to ask the "why" of Love.

Third excerpt is from page 69:
"How the hell can you find something of your own in someone else?"

"By listening," she said. "By truly listening with the whole of your heart. Not just hearing the words and sounds coming from the person you wish to Love. Not by seeing their expressions and gestures, and then in turn, responding appropriately. Not even by respect for their individuality or admiration for their special qualities or acknowledgment of their overall importance. No. By listening. Listening. Listening to the entirety of their lives with the unbridled curiosity of a small child. And in the end, that is precisely what Love is: Listening."

As for style, Jonathan Foster knows how to set the hook . . . with the unexpected and a laugh, and I quote from the opening paragraph:

My penis is quite good looking, really. It has a classic shape, is of healthy length and is boldly circumcised as though much too proud to hide its true form beneath a shroud of foreskin. Its girth is substantial and of admirable consistency for all of its length. In its disinterested state, it hangs down with perfect symmetry between my thighs, most notably when I stand with my feet eight to thirteen inches apart, knees slightly bent. When interested, it . . .

He plays his catch and pulls you in with his rich, titillating vocabulary, expert language skills, a casual, intimate tone and memorable metaphors. Then, he brings you full circle to close with . . .

My entire understanding of my own manhood has evolved. And though I feel a tinge of sadness when I say it, I know now that whether flaccid or erect, admired or unobserved, in truth, sometimes a penis is just a penis.

I read a lot books, and most have something to offer. But, what a "treat" when you open a new book and the author just grabs you and doesn’t let go. Jonathan Foster is one such author. I truly envy his gift and language skills. Whether or not you like egocentric, psychological-case-study, journal-type stories, you might enjoy this book for the pure pleasure of experiencing good craftsmanship, as writing is indeed a craft.

As it says on the back cover, Jonathan Foster is a screenwriter and playwright living in Napa, CA. The Autobiography of a Narcissist is his first novel, and I’m certain it won’t be his last. It is of superior quality and will be the third novel included in my "In Search of Excellence POD Book List."

Reviewed by Kaye Trout - April 10, 2006 - Copyright

THE BINDING OF ISAAC by Michael Shocket

The Binding of Isaac
Michael Shocket
Authors OnLine Ltd
40 Castle StreetHertford SG14 1HR, England
www.authorsonline.co.uk
ISBN: 0 7552 1012 3, $14.95, 247 pp, 2004

There are a number of books with the title The Binding of Isaac or the Akedah, a primary symbol in Jewish thought, tradition, culture, and liturgy–the story of God’s command to Abraham that he sacrifice his first-born son, Isaac, to Him as a burnt offering.

The paradox being . . . if cherished, why sacrificed, and if sacrificed, in what way cherished?

This book, The Binding of Isaac, is a contemporary novel which takes place in England. The pivotal character Abraham is an orthodox Jew who has lost his faith after his son, Isaac, who suffered brain damage at birth, is sentenced to prison for the rape and attempted murder of his step-sister. Peter, a Nigerian barrister, and the son of Josiah, an African vicar, represents the boy in an appeal and falls in love with Rosie, Isaac’s younger sister. The fathers, Josiah and Abraham, one a devout Christian and the other an orthodox Jew, both at variance with fundamentalism, establish a unique friendship.

I felt many things as I read this book: tones of Fiddler on the Roof to, strangely, Cinderella with poor Isaac as Cinderfella. Isaac’s step-mother, -sister, and -brother were truly the source of Isaac’s hellish life. I particularly liked how the author wrote from a first-person perspective for each character and how he handled the sexuality throughout, the acceptable and unacceptable, in a contemporary erotic manner, very tastefully done.

Now, I’m going to include two excerpts to illustrate Michael Shocket’s style and give you a feel for the heart of his story as spoken by Abraham. The first excerpt is from pages 14-15:

The new Abraham can no longer accept the divinity to whom he prayed so devotedly for most of his life. As a matter of fact, these days I find the sight of my former colleagues swaying in unison whispering, shouting . . . all this now seems ludicrous, and, as for the words they mouth . . . well, most of them, as far as I am concerned, are unacceptable.

For instance, at the holiest time of the year, on the Day of Atonement, we ask who may die of this, of that . . . but affirm our faith that piety and prayer will avert "the evil decree." Well, my friend, in the face of actual events, if you believe that, you can believe anything.

As for this omnipotent being before whom we kneel and abase ourselves in supplication . . . what sort of power have we created? To my mind God – whose name we dare not mention, so we call him hashem, "the name" – is a being who must divert himself creating wonderful creatures and then playing cruel games with them. He gives the hare sensitive large ears to become aware of danger, and the ability to run away from his attacker at great speed. Then he endows the huge cat with even greater speed and cunning. I suppose the God of our bible watches the chase with the same enjoyment as you probably watch a game of football. But here the contest ends for the hare in either survival or a gruesome death. So does the fate of this hunted creature – of us all – depend ultimately on no more than a whim . . . that when my son, Isaac was born . . . when life was breathed into his soul for his entire span on earth . . . he should be cursed with irreparable brain damage? . . .

I’ve come to the conclusion that the main cause of the blackest pages in history can be attributed to that misguided faith which urges man to suppress all moral feeling–to commit atrocities in the name of "obedience", whether it is to a human or supposedly divine command.

In this second excerpt, Abraham is having a conversation with his friend Nathan Adler, principal of the Jewish boarding school for children with learning disabilities where Abraham teaches–pages 158-159:

"So you do believe in a Creator."

"No! I can’t! This is where I remain confused. The traditional concept of all religions is the existence of a super being capable of creation and control over the destiny of man. Would you say, Nathan that God created man in His image?He reflects a moment, then rather hesitantly nods his head."Well, I’d say the opposite: that it was man who created God in his."

"So?"

"Well, what kind of a deity does that give us? Would you agree that the bible presents a being of supreme power?"

"Of course."

"But how is that power exercised? In the light of known history I’d consider it vindictive, unjust, unsympathetic, cruel . . . Need I go on? Do I have to give you – a Jew – examples? To be honest, my friend, what kind of God has man created–in his own terrible image?" . . .

"So – if I retain my belief that I have a soul – that the known universe is not all there is – that beyond human understanding there is a supernatural dimension – I must look elsewhere than in the bible for an explanation – knowing however that no human being limited with five senses could find it! It’s beyond us. As far as mankind is concerned there is no ultimate truth."

This story has historical depth and religious honesty. Besides Abraham’s loss of faith, it addresses the problems and pleasures of sexuality; the pain from religious, racial and social prejudice; the negative attitudes towards people with learning disabilities; and, on the positive side, three bitter-sweet, interwoven love stories–life in the real world, you might say. If you’re an intelligent reader who wants something more than the popular books off the formula genre mill, I promise . . . you will not be disappointed.

Dr. Michael Shocket is a retired lecturer living in Hertfordshire. He is a member of the Council for Christians and Jews and states that his religious views are reflected in the pivotal character of Abraham. This is his first novel, and it is an excellent read. Dr. Shocket has written several text books published by the Cambridge University, poems in various magazines, and his autobiography, Know Me Tomorrow.

Review by Kaye Trout March 23, 2006 - Copyright

INHERIT THE TIDE by Ken Boire

Inherit the Tide
Ken Boire
Outskirts Press, Inc.
10940 S. Parker Rd. #515, Parker, CO, 80134
ISBN: 1-59800-152-3, $14.95, 208 pp, 2005

Absolutely wonderful! Beautifully written, sensitive and touching.

Little ten-year-old Hecky learns of his Native American heritage through his Grandma’s stories while he is slowly recuperating from an accident. They sit by the warm stove while she spins her tales of Arctic adventure, the sea, romance, and the pioneers of early lumber-town Seattle.

I want to give you an idea of Ken Boire’s writing style and gift which I can only do by quoting excerpts. I like to include excerpts in my reviews because we all have different tastes and must decide for ourselves what we like and what we do not, what we think is good writing and what is not. Once in a blue moon we might be favored to come across something quite exceptional. After you have read the excerpts below, I hope you too will agree that his writing is something quite special, as is the author’s spirit.

First excerpt–page 4:

She ruffled the pillow behind me and placed a cup of hot cocoa in front of me and combed her fingers through my hair again. I didn’t hurt inside anymore. "Grandson, I will tell you how you have the spirit of the wind and tide, and why you are strong like the sea. Your history is rich with adventure and triumph but also has brushes with ne’er-do-wells, criminals, and outright failures. This story starts one hundred years ago, far away, to the north of here in the high Arctic near the top of the world. It has adventure, love, and hate. Listen carefully, for this is your story and someday you must tell it to another generation, too." She leaned back in her chair, close to my side now, with shoes off and stocking feet extended past mine toward the cook stove, and began her story in her warm, low voice, a cello.

Second excerpt–pages 198-199, the Grandma speaking of her parents:

"My parents were deeply in love with each other and shared a glowing mutual respect. When Val died, my mother could hardly bear up under the pain. They had been best friends, like one person, and when he died, some of her died, too. She never recovered from it.

"The winter following his death, she took a trip by herself to the Arctic. Perhaps she was looking for his spirit there, for inside she was still a native and they have a different way of thinking about the dead. She made the trip up north by steamer in the late summer, and when she got there the coming of winter was in the air. She stayed on, and found someone to take her to a village in the direction of the place where she had lived as a child. She wrote to me that she would sit for hours outside and watch the northern lights and listen to the wind bringing in the winter. When the long winter night came and the sea had frozen over, she said goodbye to everyone and left a letter behind for me. She wandered alone out on the sea ice. She never came back.

"In that letter she wrote the poems I recited to you earlier. I have read the letter so many times I have it in my memory. She also wrote, ‘You are born of the wind and the tide. You are the result of a man so strong and loyal I cannot bear to be without him. He is part of me, and soon he and I shall be together again. Your life will go on as it must, for you have great things to bring to this world. Among them must be the legacy to all that follow us, that they too are creatures of the wind and the tide, and within them they have the strength of the ocean.’"

Ken Boire, a Native American, claims that he was born facing the wind on the icy shores of the Bering Sea. He lives in Beaverton, Oregon, and is a consulting economist specializing in natural resource issues. Inherit the Tide is his debut novel, and his next book is titled In the Company of Fishers.

Review by Kaye Trout - March 20, 2006 - Copyright