A Kitch Lit Series Tangent: Literary Lit

Robin Sloan is my current literary hero. Sloan’s writing style is all his own and I love it. The Kitch Lit Series recently featured Robin Sloan’s Sourdough, an entirely unique book that surprises and delights. After finishing Sourdough I eagerly devoured his debut novel Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. Mr. Penumbra’s is a book about the intersection of technology and the written word. And even though Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore is not kitch lit, I had to write about it. My plea to read it will be brief because to reveal too much would be to ruin the pleasure of watching the story unfold.

Clay Jannon’s marketing job at yuppie bagel company NewBagel does not survive the recession and Clay finds himself poring over the classifieds. It turns out, “in a recession, people want good old-fashioned bubbly oblong bagels, not smooth alien-spaceship bagels.” When he happens upon Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore, with a help wanted sign in the window, Clay is more than a little suspicious. But he is also curious. When Clay passes Mr. Penumbra’s not so subtle personality test, he is soon working the overnight shift. Mr. Penumbra has some very specific requirements for his employees. He requests Clay document the appearance and attitude of all customers. And when Clay notices that customers do not pay for the books, rather, they check them out, he begins to wonder about the story happening amongst people and the books in the bookstore. Who are these customers? Are they connected? Clay is determined to find out.

A colorful cast of characters surrounds Clay and populate what becomes an adventure to use science and technology to unlock the mystery of the bookstore. His artist friend and roommate Mat, who works at Industrial Light and Magic by day, spends his downtime constructing Matropolis, a sort of mini-city, throughout their rental. And then there’s Kat, Clay’s love interest and an over-achiever at Google, who has a penchant for the notion of immortality. And Neel, Clay’s childhood friend, who made his fortune creating a digital technology for the design of women’s breasts in video games, is still attracted to adventures and now has deep pockets to fund them. They are a motley crew, joined together with a common purpose. Not to mention Mr. Penumbra himself, an older man who carries himself with an air of both mystery and certainty. 

These characters become real because Sloan’s writing style has a vibrant, energetic quality. The dialogue is realistic. That is, if all of us had an extensive vocabulary and a penchant for artfully structured sentences. The story never lags. Exposition and descriptive passages can often feel burdened by the need to explain and move the plot forward, but in Sloan’s deft hands the story leaps from the pages. This is the first passage in the book:

                           Lost in the shadows of the shelves, I almost fall off the ladder. I am exactly halfway up. 

                           The floor of the bookstore is far below me, the surface of a planet I’ve left behind. The 

                           tops of the shelves look high above, and it’s dark up there – the books are packed in                                   close, and they don’t let any light through. The air might be thinner, too. I think
                           I see a bat. 

                          I am holding on for dear life, one hand on the ladder, the other on the lip of a shelf,                                     fingers pressed white. My eyes trace a line above my knuckles, search the spines                                         – and there, I spot it. The book I’m looking for. 

                          But let me back up.

The image Sloan creates is crisp, but it still allows the reader freedom to use his or her own imagination. The anticipation of discovery is palpable. It is impossible not to continue reading.  

Sloan skillfully crafts tales with intriguing characters, a plot that twists in all the right ways, and prose that reads so easily it belies the expertise between the lines. Read it.

Rule of Feminism #1: See Mean Girls

When Mean Girls was released in 2004, audiences and critics alike greeted it as a fresh entry in the genre of teen comedies. Sitting in the movie theater with my dad and my brother I very distinctly remember two things. One, Mean Girls is not really the kind of movie you go to with your dad or brother and, two, thank goodness my high school experience bared no resemblance to the one portrayed in Tina Fey’s hit comedy. Now on Broadway, and 10+ years later, I still thank goodness that if anything remotely similar was happening at my high school, I was in a very comfortable band geek bubble and had no awareness of it.

Mean Girls entered the Broadway landscape last year and a slew of Tony Award nominations followed. While Tony night was not generous to the show, it is going strong on Broadway and, after seeing it on Halloween a couple of weeks ago (thanks for the mouse ears!) it is apparent why audiences continue to pack the August Wilson Theatre. Mean Girls has only a few counterparts on a Great White Way packed with wizards, witches, Phantoms and Lion Kings, and there is something truly refreshing about a present day comedy. With a strong book, catchy songs and a message that bears repeating, Mean Girls will likely continue to rule the school.

For the few uninitiated, Mean Girls tells the story of Cady, a previously homeschooled teen navigating high school for the first time.  Cady first meets Janis and Damien, who march to the beat of their own drummer, and she can confidently confirm for her parents that, yes, she made friends today. But when the Plastics, led by resident mean girl Regina George, latch onto naïve Cady, she finds herself in uncharted territory, dealing with passive aggressive put downs and infighting. Cady's whirlwind journey from new kid, to insensitive Plastic and back to respectable human being strikes a balance between humor and heart.

Adapting a hit film for the stage is surely not an easy task, mostly because it begs comparison. Fey’s work on the book of the musical leaves most of the beloved lines from the film intact – how can you not, Glen Coco? – but the musical manages to gain independence from the film. What makes the stage venture unique? It is now set in the present day, the age of social media. When the film was released, Facebook was barely more than an idea in Mark Zuckerberg’s head - er, those twins played by Armie Hammer in The Social Network - and cell phones were still mostly used only for emergencies. I had a calling card my first year of college. Google that if you’ve never heard of one. As technological advances make communication simpler and faster, does it make us better as a human race? Mean Girls makes a pretty compelling argument that it does not. Nasty rumors, backstabbing and spreading rumors is easier than ever and self-worth is measured in social media followers rather than actual human connection. The song “Stop” sums it up: when you are compelled to jump online to “over share, troll or meme” just stop. 

“Stop” is one of many expressive, catchy pop songs crafted by Nell Benjamin and Jeff Richmond that expertly lend themselves to Mean Girls and fit perfectly with the tone of their respective scenes. Songs such as “Stupid With Love” and “Revenge Party” have a bubblegum vibe despite their exploration of difficult emotions. In contrast, “I’d Rather Be Me” is an anthem to self-confidence and has enough gusto to invite fist bumps and head bobs of solidarity. The use of catchy pop is smart. The complex themes are easy to digest when wrapped in such a fun package.

Most of the original Broadway cast is still performing in the show and across the board the singing, dancing and acting is strong. As Cady, Erika Henningsen has the somewhat daunting task of making the moral compass standout amongst a landscape of very loud – in all meanings of the word – characters but she is up to the task. Ashley Park’s Gretchen Wieners is a standout. Her portrayal of someone who knows the manipulation that Regina is inflicting upon her but cannot help but strive for that attention and approval is hilarious and heartbreaking. As Janis and Damien, Barrett Wilbert Weed and Grey Henson get to have the most fun with two characters whose sarcasm is worn as a badge of honor. And Wilbert Weed brings down the house with “I’d Rather Be Me.” Let us not forget the ensemble, some of whom play both male and female characters as the scene requires. They are a singing, dancing, set-rolling machine. Their flawless execution of the choreography of the set pieces is almost as impressive as the actual dance steps.  

The positive message in Mean Girls is heralded loud and clear. There is no subtlety here. But because of the importance of the message, I wholeheartedly support spreading it loud and clear. Social media is not a substitute for human interaction and cutting others down on social media, in person or through other people does not build you up. In fact, the opposite is true. Genuine concern for other people? How sad that it comes across as such a novel idea in this day and age. If you find yourself in New York City, or if Mean Girls stops in your hometown, make it a point to meet the Plastics.