Sunday, November 27, 2011

"Falling Through the Earth" Book Review

     “Falling Through the Earth” by Danielle Trusso is more than just her memoir, it also serves as a sort of memoir for her father, a Vietnam Veteran who served time doing one of the most dangerous jobs in the war, clearing out the tunnels. Her father brought the war back home with him, as most Vets of that war did, and this memoir deals not only with the life of Danielle, but also on how her relationship with her father suffered because of it. Trusso sets out to illustrate just how war effects not only the people involved directly, but the loved ones of the people who served too. When she takes a trip to Vietnam as a young woman, she discovers that the war still goes on in some sense. The people there certainly haven't forgotten their invaders, nor have they forgiven them.
     The story follows three main narratives, Danielle's past growing up with her father, Danielle's trip to Vietnam to better understand the war and her father, and her father's tour of duty in Vietnam. She cuts back and forth between these time lines effortlessly, and without creating any sense of confusion. The section about growing up focuses mainly on their family life, and the ways it affected her and her siblings. Her trip to Vietnam covers a wide range of experiences, from meeting other people who served, to praying in a Buddhist temple, to being chased across town by a potentially harmful man in an Iron Maiden T-shirt, to crawling through the tunnels where her father nearly died. And finally, the section that follows her father discusses his time in Vietnam, the people he served with, the tunnels he crawled through, and the things he had to do to survive. Each one of these sections is really about Trusso trying to understand her father, a quest she'd been trying to accomplish for as long as she can remember.
     Trusso does a great job of showing her father as a complicated man, full of things to both love and hate. She describes him as a man who never showed signs of weakness, and never saw a fight worth backing down from. He was hard working, and charismatic. But he was wounded, scarred emotionally from the war and a hard childhood. He was incapable of asking for help, or apologizing, and was a hard man to know. He had problems with drinking, speeding, and keeping women. Trusso's father clearly cared deeply about his family, and the daughter that stuck by him the longest and took his namesake, Danielle, he just couldn't communicate that to his children. Overall, the father seems like a sympathetic character, but is mostly unlikable. She does her best to never flat out trash any of the people in her story, but portray them as honestly as she can. Even her potential attacker in Vietnam is not fully condemned, as she actually attempts to figure out just why he does what he does.
     Trusso switches from personal vignettes, to imagined memories, to standard prose narration, and more to capture the events of her life, and the life of those around her. Her stories switches from light moments, to dark and heavy ones, to humorous ones as well. She keeps changing pace, and I think it definitely helps keep the reader engaged. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to connect at all with the author or the narrative since I know very little about Vietnam, or about growing up hard and fast in Wisconsin, but I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to connect to both. I think that reflecting on her life, Trusso sees that she was as hard to know as her father was, and the two of them being cut from the same cloth made it hard for either one of them to talk about things. She reveals this to us by putting in plenty of stories where she was the one who hurt her father, instead of the other way around.
     The settings in Trusso's story are just as important as the people who populate them. There are three main settings that have a huge impact on the story, Vietnam, Roscoe's, and the Trussoni Court. Vietnam is obviously a crucial setting in the threads about her father and about her trip there to better understand the war and it's impact on her father, but Roscoe's and the Trussoni Court are major settings in her childhood. The former is a bar where she grew up, where her and her fathered connected, and where her father met old friends and veterans. The latter was a childhood home where most of her pleasant memories took place, until her parents got a divorce. Most of the story takes place in these three settings, and we get to know them as well as Trusso did.
     Overall, I think Trusso did a terrific job of capturing her father and her life the way they truly were, full of both good and bad moments, full of accomplishments and disappointments, full of people and places that shaped the way she was, and the way she is. Her quest to understand her father, the war, and the way they impacted each other was apparent all the way throughout the narrative.

Monday, November 21, 2011

On a Sandwich

     The end of the semester is coming up, things are getting hectic, there are papers to write, and things to be done. I've been going here and there, running all over to get things done and to see people I haven't seen for a long time. To top it all off, I'm getting ready to seriously embark on a writing project, not something for school, something for me. But with all this going on, the only thing I'm really inclined to write about, strangely enough, is a sandwich I had last night.
     A friend of mine swung by last night after work and brought me a sandwich, an event which I knew was going to happen. It was a BL sandwich, more commonly known as a BLT. You see, I've got this love hate relationship with tomatoes. First of all, they lied to me. As you know, they're a fruit, but they spent my entire childhood masquerading as a vegetable, and there's an old expression saying that you're judged by the company you keep. Well, based on the company that tomatoes keep, they're totally vegetables. Other than trust issues, I hate the tomato as a whole, but love the things it turns into. I can't get enough marinara sauce, or spaghetti sauce, or pizza sauce, or ketchup, or so on, but the tomato on it's own is a vile imposter.
     The sandwich had all sorts of virtues, not the least of which was excellent timing. (Virtues for people and sandwiches are completely different in case you didn't know.) I had had almost nothing to eat all day, so when that sandwich was delivered I was starving. The sandwich was also crafted with impeccable breadsmanship. The toaster of these particular slices must have magic hands, because they were just toasted enough to not soak up the mayo, but was soft enough to not insult the roof of my mouth. Speaking of the mayo, it must have been dished out by the very same hands that crafted the clouds, because the gentle way in which that tangy spread stretched across the corners of it's floury universe was a part of some greater plan. And then of course there's the matter of the lettuce to bacon ratio. These two essential sandwich pieces came together like the sea and the shore, the very border between these two radically different things was just an estimate, an ever fluctuating boundary between the crispness of the bacon, and the wholesomeness of the lettuce.
     I could go on and on about this sandwich, speak of the angle of it's cut, the curve of it's crust, the aroma of it's parts, or the heat of it's passion. But to capture a sandwich like this in words does it a bit of a disservice, since the eye and the tongue, while often working in unison, don't always enjoy the same things. A treat for one might be an inconvenience for the other. So feel free to stop reading now and indulge the fancies of both the eye and the tongue in whatever way you feel fit.

Monday, November 7, 2011

The Shield

     Why does nobody I know watch the FX original series “The Shield”? It's probably my third favorite show of all-time, and has won numerous awards, including a Golden Globe for Best Television Series (Drama) in 2003, and Micheal Chiklis took home an Emmy for Outstanding Actor in a Television Series in 2002, and a Golden Globe for the same thing 2003. It had seven successful seasons, and a very well received series finale, but no one watches it. It makes no sense. It offers a lot more than most “cop dramas”, and should appeal to most television viewers. Yet, when someone asks me to suggest something for them to watch, they immediately shoot down “The Shield” as if its trash.
     I've been thinking about this as I'm almost finished watching the entire series for the third time. There aren't many things that make me look away, or cringe in anticipation, but the Season Five finale, the Series Finale, and most of the episodes leading right up to it fill me with a strange sense of anticipation and dread, because the drama and betrayal is so thick and real that you feel like you're the one losing team members or friends. The characters are, for the most part, well done and diverse, and they play off each other so well as the show goes on and we grow with them. I don't know, I don't wanna give a series recap because that would just take way too long, but the whole tragic series is highly underrated by anyone who's never seen it, and to anyone who reads this that has time to kill, I'd suggest watching it.