I Told Myself I Wouldn't Call My Project Proposal "A Modest Proposal" so it's Called This Instead

Probably the most widespread, deepest connecting influence I can think of to write about is not just the themes of the stories, but their foundations themselves. Specifically, the language and rhetoric stemming from the Beat generation. Although all the Beat writers and poets used different words for different reasons in different ways, they all knew that this is where their power and influence came from. For this reason, I'd like to write about two of the most powerful wordsmiths from the day: Alan Ginsberg and Bob Dylan. I hypothesize that both artists are or were dedicated to using their voices and rhetoric to analyze and critique their country, and using Dylan's voice to articulate (perhaps more clearly) Ginsberg's message. What I envision for my final project is a rewrite of either one or a selection of Ginsberg's poems done in the lyrical style of Bob Dylan. I contend that in using Dylan's style as a lens for the poetry, it would make for a stronger, more punctuated telling of the morality and message of the work.

Stumblemaster Oxen

I feel really strongly about Tripmaster Monkey, but the thing that evokes such strong emotions doesn't really fit into one of the topics; it's more like three of them. What I want to talk about is the references, and not really to analyze them contextually or extrapolate meaning from them, but about how their constant, unabated usage irritates me.

The book starts out a little like a novel, but then suddenly it devolves into what feels like a not-so-cleverly disguised series of lists. Kingston starts out listing locations around San Francisco, and as Stephanie's Google map illustrated there are a boatload of them. Then it goes on from there, mostly with pop-culture and specifically filmic references, not so much listed as punched down our throats. As far as I care there are two reasons to form and share exhaustive lists: to inform or to show off. When you're informing, either the list is comprised of commonly-known or well-explained things that server a purpose, whereas with showing off you just shotgun as many factoids as you can so people know you know a considerable amount of stuff. Now although some audiences, maybe even the intended ones, may find the references in Tripmaster Monkey to be common knowledge, they still serve very little (if any) point. One thing I'm sure of is this is a very, very character-driven novel. And it could be because I'm just bitter, but the greater portion of these references don't provide any meaningful insight into Wittman's character. When he speaks, especially to Nanci, it strikes me as insightful and telling of his personality (which I find excruciatingly unpleasant but at least consistent and meaningful to the overall narrative), but when Kingston creates countless kung fu similes, not only does it wear thin but it comes across almost as if that's the lens through which she evaluates her entire life (I threw my wadded up paper into the trash like Yojimbo tossed his shuriken through an evil ronin).

The most concrete example I can think of is right at the very beginning when we're going on Wittman's walking/busing tour of SF. One location, the Academy of Sciences, lends itself to explaining his character, but by and large it's just the narrator telling us "And then he went by here and here, and if there were a football game the stadium would be louder," and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be other than (as a non-native Californian) lost and frustrated.

There may well have been a compelling story under all this malarky, but Kingston hid it so well that I'm not interested in trying to find it.