This was the last weekend I have with the kids until late August. I find I am still a bit cranky, particularly when I am busy with the remaining tasks -- and when I am then asked about things that they should be able to take care of on their own. Nonetheless, it is not good to be so crabby all the time. I do hope that taking some special time with them and doing some fun things gives them some positive memories of this summer, and not just recalling the stress of the move. (To be honest, they didn't have to do too much during the move, and they both seem to have picked up some friends on the block, so I think they'll be fine...)
Last weekend, we went to the ROM and the Pompeii exhibit. I'll be writing a bit about that fairly soon. The next day we saw Inside Out, which was quite good. Not good enough that I am going to run out and pay to see it again, but I'll probably order the DVD when it comes out.
This weekend we went to see Minions. It wasn't quite as bad as I had feared, but it wasn't great. It was roughly 6/10. The original Despicable Me was more like 8 or even 8.5, and Despicable Me 2 was about a 7 (I would have probably gone higher but frankly thought the evil purple Minions were a bad idea). Personally I don't find the Minions particularly interesting, we had to hear far too much of their boring babble-talk and there were almost no inventions at all in the movie. I also don't think very highly of slapstick as a genre. Give me the Marx Brothers or Abbott and Costello over the Three Stooges (or the Keystone Kops) any day.
After I dropped them off, I ran off to see another Fringe show, this one called Waiting for Alonzo, which was an odd mix of outer space comedy (reminiscent of Red Dwarf even if not directly inspired by it), feminist parable and Beckett's Waiting for Godot. It had its moments and was a pretty typical Fringe show.
Today we did manage to get a relatively early start and took the bus up to the Ontario Science Centre. We got there just a bit before 11 and got tickets for the Mythbusters exhibit. That was pretty fun, as they tried to distill 11 or so episodes and have the museum patrons replicate them. So for instance, there was the one about the toast machine to test whether toast really does tend to land butter-side down. And a walk/run through the rain exhibit. That was my daughter's favourite. She also liked the blind driving test, though I have to say she didn't do all that well at it. My son and I both managed to yank the tablecloth off the table without the plates falling on the ground. Neither of us were able to leave the vase standing upright, though I think it was simply too light. At least it stayed on the table. I was a bit nonplussed by how hard the crew were trying to get volunteers to dodge a paintball. That didn't seem at all fun for me, either watching or being the dodgee. I did buy a special commemorative DVD that had all the episodes that were referenced in the exhibit. I may watch just a bit tonight if I keep the volume low.
We had lunch (any lunch out is a good lunch according to my son) and we spent about another hour at the Science Centre. My daughter definitely wanted to stay longer. She actually is thinking seriously about trying to work there when she is older, and that sounds something that I should encourage (compared to most of her career choices, which are a bit fanciful, like supermodel or famous singer). I don't think we will go quite often enough to justify a membership, but if she continues to take an interest in science going into middle school, then I'll consider it more seriously.
The bus back was crowded, but we did manage to get seats in the back, and fortunately she didn't get sick (from the gas, as she explains). I dropped them off and headed out again. This time I wanted to get to Robarts, which was pretty close to St. Vlad's, which was where Twelfe Night was playing. I decided after all to go, though on my own. One of the books I was looking for had been returned but was not on the shelves or in the sorting area, though I ended up getting a book of Robert Coover short stories from the sorting shelves. Well, I should be going back in a week or two and will look again. I also picked up Albert Cossery's Proud Beggars, which is mislaid somewhere downstairs, and it is just easier to get it out of the library than to go through all those boxes again.
I had to hustle but I made it to Twelfe Night with just 10 minutes to spare. For all that, I had a good seat anyway. This is definitely a case where if you don't want the actors in your space, occasionally even sitting in your lap, you probably want to avoid the front row! I thought it was well done, though they obviously had to cut quite a bit out to get it down to 90 minutes (no intermission). They are actually going to have one more show this Thurs., and I'll mention that specifically in another post. So all in all, I did 3 Fringe shows. I thought seriously about sticking around and catching Skunkweed by Eric Bogosian,* but I really needed to get a few things done at home, mostly gathering up all the construction material they are supposed to be picking up on Monday.** I did drop by work and got a little bit done, though nothing substantial, mostly it was scanning papers so the originals could be recycled. So it was a reasonably well balanced weekend, though, as ever, I think I should have gotten a bit more actual work done. Ciao.
* I am kind of sorry I missed this production by Triple ByPass. They look like a company that is right up my alley. I can't blame myself too much for missing their John Patrick Shanley show, as I was just settling in in Toronto, but I don't know why I didn't hear more about (and go to see) their George Walker show this past April. Well, I will bookmark their page and see if they manage to pull together a remount of Skunkweed or do something else this next season.
** They didn't get the construction trash until late Tuesday, but it is all gone now (even that bookcase) and the place looks so much better now. I think the worst is definitely over, and we can start enjoying being in our own house now.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Shakespeare summer (2015)
Basically, everywhere I've lived goes a little crazy over Shakespeare in the summer. New York has Shakespeare in the Park (I managed to go to 4 shows in 2 years back under the old rules where you waited around all morning for tickets and couldn't really buy your way in). Vancouver has Bard on the Beach. In Cambridge, UK, the colleges all put on outdoor productions of Shakespeare in their yards and gardens. I managed to see half a production of Hamlet before we gave up due to the pouring rain. In fact, it wasn't until several years later that I managed to see a live performance (at Bard on the Beach incidentally). Interestingly, Chicago has Chicago Shakespeare, which is year-round, and a bit of Shakespeare in the parks, but far less of an institutional commitment. Often Oak Park puts on some Shakespeare in their park, but it isn't guaranteed.
In some ways, Toronto has the most guaranteed Shakespeare in the summer. First, there is Shakespeare in High Park, which means two plays in repertoire. Next, Driftwood Theatre plans a stop in Toronto on their bus-tour of a Shakespeare production (this year being Hamlet). I don't know if they've done this in the past, but this year they are making two stops in Toronto -- Todmorden Mills (which are already past) and Withrow Park from July 21-26. Withrow Park is much more convenient for me, so I'll book for an early date in the run in case they have a rain date, and I have to come back. There are usually a couple of Toronto Fringe productions of Shakespeare (it being royalty-free and a natural draw and all). I saw Merry Wives of Windsor (one of the lesser plays) but it was quite well-done. I think there is one show left tonight and one tomorrow. Tickets here. I'm going back and forth about the Twelfe Night (i.e. Twelfth Night), which is tomorrow. It sounds like it is quite a good performance, and Fringe rules mean they squeeze it down to 90 minutes (same for Merry Wives), which is a lot more audience-friendly than Chicago Shakespeare or the Globe or Stratford, where plays typically run 2.5 to 3 hours. And even with the service charge, the tickets are quite reasonable ($12 or so for advance tickets and $10 at the door). But would it be at all fair to take my son and not my daughter, who is simply not ready? Or would I be better off taking him to Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, which is probably more his speed. I think he is probably still another year or two away from really understanding what happens in Twelfth Night.
On top of everything else happening in Toronto, the Stratford Festival is just out of town (but with a very handy shuttle bus from downtown). You can count on 4-6 Shakespeare plays each season, mixed in with plays by his contemporaries, some Restoration comedies and then whatever else fills out the theme of the season (plus a couple of musicals). It's almost too much summer Shakespeare here in Toronto, but of course no one is forced to go.
I'll just close with a short review of The Comedy of Errors in High Park. I knew I was cutting it a bit close, but I had to go home first and pick up my son. Then we just missed the bus and walked over the bridge to try to catch the 506 streetcar (I kind of wanted to show him the stop in the middle of the park). As we reached street level, another streetcar passed. I absolutely hate it when they bunch up so much, as it means a long wait until the next one. It this case it was 10 minutes until the next one, and we would have missed the end of the reservation period. So I actually had to shell out for a cab to take us up to the subway station. (I know that they have boosted bus service on the Pape bus a little, but it doesn't really feel like it to me. I still end up waiting quite a while and walking uphill to the subway is a bit of a chore -- downhill from the subway isn't so bad. At any rate, if I can bike to work, it is so much better...)
I wasn't too familiar with how to reach the performance area from the subway, but it was quite easy. Unfortunately, they took away our tickets, which had the map of the park, which proved troublesome later on.
I like the concept of Shakespeare in High Park a lot, but the seats are so uncomfortable -- basically just concrete slabs with a very thin cushion. My legs fell asleep in one position, and I struggled to find anything that was remotely comfortable. The bathrooms are pretty primitive as well (just port-o-potties, which come to think of it is the same at Bard on the Beach). On the positive side of the ledger, they know this is an issue, and all the shows I have seen have been 90 minutes with no intermission. (I think they also know that an intermission in that space with insufficient facilities would be a real problem.)
While The Comedy of Errors isn't seen as quite problematic as The Taming of the Shrew, there is still a lot of overt violence in it, with both Dromios being beaten for almost any offense. Still, they did their best to play this off as slapstick violence. I thought the two Dromios did look a fair bit like each other, though the two masters (Antipholus I and II) really didn't. It took my son quite a while to figure out there were two sets of twins. While this was not officially part of the production, there was one scene where the mustache of one of the Dromios kept coming loose, and the actor had to keep pushing it back in place while going through the lines. It was quite hilarious and definitely earned a round of applause at the end of the scene.
My son's favorite part was when the out-of-town Dromio talked about the horribly fat cook who claimed she was his wife. I thought that was ok, but a bit overdone. I liked the part right before the big reveal where the in-town Antipholus complained to the Duke about his very terrible day. I also liked the slightly more serious scenes, particularly the out-of-town Antipholus wooing his supposed wife's sister Luciana and then the coming together of the long-lost husband and wife. That was not played for laughs and was quite touching. All in all, very well done, and I look forward to seeing how they handle Julius Caesar, most likely in early August. (To make reservations for either play, you can go here.) While things are a bit topsy-turvy at TransLink, I may still be going out there in September and then might catch Bard on the Beach's take on The Comedy of Errors.
My son even enjoyed the walk in the park and hoped we would come more often, though it is more than halfway across the city for us. Things are generally not well marked in the park (and indeed there are essentially no streetlamps) and we missed the turn-off to get to the streetcar stop (in fact there is a second switchback which makes it even trickier to get to). By the time I realized this, we were almost out of the park on its southern boundary. As it turns out, there are streetcar stops down on the Queensway, so we just waited down there. It still felt suitably abandoned. Eventually a Queen streetcar (the 501) turned up and we took that all the way to Carlaw and then caught the Pape bus north. We still got home more or less when I expected to arrive, so it definitely could have been worse. Still, I will have to make more of an effort to learn the ins and outs of this park. I recall that I used to have problems cutting through Central Park as well. I could always find my way going east to west, but often got misled going west to east. Odd that.
In some ways, Toronto has the most guaranteed Shakespeare in the summer. First, there is Shakespeare in High Park, which means two plays in repertoire. Next, Driftwood Theatre plans a stop in Toronto on their bus-tour of a Shakespeare production (this year being Hamlet). I don't know if they've done this in the past, but this year they are making two stops in Toronto -- Todmorden Mills (which are already past) and Withrow Park from July 21-26. Withrow Park is much more convenient for me, so I'll book for an early date in the run in case they have a rain date, and I have to come back. There are usually a couple of Toronto Fringe productions of Shakespeare (it being royalty-free and a natural draw and all). I saw Merry Wives of Windsor (one of the lesser plays) but it was quite well-done. I think there is one show left tonight and one tomorrow. Tickets here. I'm going back and forth about the Twelfe Night (i.e. Twelfth Night), which is tomorrow. It sounds like it is quite a good performance, and Fringe rules mean they squeeze it down to 90 minutes (same for Merry Wives), which is a lot more audience-friendly than Chicago Shakespeare or the Globe or Stratford, where plays typically run 2.5 to 3 hours. And even with the service charge, the tickets are quite reasonable ($12 or so for advance tickets and $10 at the door). But would it be at all fair to take my son and not my daughter, who is simply not ready? Or would I be better off taking him to Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, which is probably more his speed. I think he is probably still another year or two away from really understanding what happens in Twelfth Night.
On top of everything else happening in Toronto, the Stratford Festival is just out of town (but with a very handy shuttle bus from downtown). You can count on 4-6 Shakespeare plays each season, mixed in with plays by his contemporaries, some Restoration comedies and then whatever else fills out the theme of the season (plus a couple of musicals). It's almost too much summer Shakespeare here in Toronto, but of course no one is forced to go.
I'll just close with a short review of The Comedy of Errors in High Park. I knew I was cutting it a bit close, but I had to go home first and pick up my son. Then we just missed the bus and walked over the bridge to try to catch the 506 streetcar (I kind of wanted to show him the stop in the middle of the park). As we reached street level, another streetcar passed. I absolutely hate it when they bunch up so much, as it means a long wait until the next one. It this case it was 10 minutes until the next one, and we would have missed the end of the reservation period. So I actually had to shell out for a cab to take us up to the subway station. (I know that they have boosted bus service on the Pape bus a little, but it doesn't really feel like it to me. I still end up waiting quite a while and walking uphill to the subway is a bit of a chore -- downhill from the subway isn't so bad. At any rate, if I can bike to work, it is so much better...)
I wasn't too familiar with how to reach the performance area from the subway, but it was quite easy. Unfortunately, they took away our tickets, which had the map of the park, which proved troublesome later on.
I like the concept of Shakespeare in High Park a lot, but the seats are so uncomfortable -- basically just concrete slabs with a very thin cushion. My legs fell asleep in one position, and I struggled to find anything that was remotely comfortable. The bathrooms are pretty primitive as well (just port-o-potties, which come to think of it is the same at Bard on the Beach). On the positive side of the ledger, they know this is an issue, and all the shows I have seen have been 90 minutes with no intermission. (I think they also know that an intermission in that space with insufficient facilities would be a real problem.)
While The Comedy of Errors isn't seen as quite problematic as The Taming of the Shrew, there is still a lot of overt violence in it, with both Dromios being beaten for almost any offense. Still, they did their best to play this off as slapstick violence. I thought the two Dromios did look a fair bit like each other, though the two masters (Antipholus I and II) really didn't. It took my son quite a while to figure out there were two sets of twins. While this was not officially part of the production, there was one scene where the mustache of one of the Dromios kept coming loose, and the actor had to keep pushing it back in place while going through the lines. It was quite hilarious and definitely earned a round of applause at the end of the scene.
My son's favorite part was when the out-of-town Dromio talked about the horribly fat cook who claimed she was his wife. I thought that was ok, but a bit overdone. I liked the part right before the big reveal where the in-town Antipholus complained to the Duke about his very terrible day. I also liked the slightly more serious scenes, particularly the out-of-town Antipholus wooing his supposed wife's sister Luciana and then the coming together of the long-lost husband and wife. That was not played for laughs and was quite touching. All in all, very well done, and I look forward to seeing how they handle Julius Caesar, most likely in early August. (To make reservations for either play, you can go here.) While things are a bit topsy-turvy at TransLink, I may still be going out there in September and then might catch Bard on the Beach's take on The Comedy of Errors.
My son even enjoyed the walk in the park and hoped we would come more often, though it is more than halfway across the city for us. Things are generally not well marked in the park (and indeed there are essentially no streetlamps) and we missed the turn-off to get to the streetcar stop (in fact there is a second switchback which makes it even trickier to get to). By the time I realized this, we were almost out of the park on its southern boundary. As it turns out, there are streetcar stops down on the Queensway, so we just waited down there. It still felt suitably abandoned. Eventually a Queen streetcar (the 501) turned up and we took that all the way to Carlaw and then caught the Pape bus north. We still got home more or less when I expected to arrive, so it definitely could have been worse. Still, I will have to make more of an effort to learn the ins and outs of this park. I recall that I used to have problems cutting through Central Park as well. I could always find my way going east to west, but often got misled going west to east. Odd that.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Down in the basement
So the upper floors are actually in pretty good shape, and it is time to turn to fixing up the basement. I think the handyman did quite a nice job on the railing downstairs, and we'll probably bring him back in the fall to install an upstairs railing. He also thought I was being overly cautious, but he built another layer of walls under the study to prop up the bookcases.
I did tie up a bunch of boxes so at least I can get around to the furnace and the fuse box if necessary. I don't know how long we'll hang onto the boxes, but for a while at any rate.
I've unpacked five or so boxes of books downstairs. I probably need to unload 4 more before I can clear out enough space to get to the wardrobe and make it a reasonably functional space. Of course, despite my best intentions, I don't have space on the bookcases for that many books. Still, I'll have to figure out something. In terms of the books I want to uncover, there are some key Greek texts, such as Herodotus and Thucydides; a bunch of SF, with the collected short stories of Roger Zelazny as my prime objective; several Eric Kraft novels; and a box set from Virago Press. If I can locate all that, I'll be satisfied. And perhaps I'll be able to move around a bit better down there.
It will take some time, but clearly I have to come up with a plan to declutter (probably mostly by scanning material and discarding it), and to organize what remains. I think it is more of a long-term goal, and I'll just have to accept that I won't see immediate progress in the next few months.
Update: I've spent a couple of hours trying to rearrange boxes and combine the half-full ones. I have tried to bring a few urban books upstairs, though I have probably at least a full bookcase of urban books that have now gone into deep storage. At some point I will face up to the fact I will never read them and start trying to offload them. It took quite a while, but I found the ones listed above (including the Kraft books just as I was about ready to give up). There is at least one more box of books that held my TBRD pile, including Cossery's Proud Beggars, which is coming up right away in my reading list. I think I will have to hold to my resolution to stop fussing in the basement for a while after I found those missing books, so I will have to see if Robarts has it in or if I have to request it through ILL. Kind of crazy, but these books could be mixed in with anything, including the data DVDs, and I just have to take care of other business for a while. Still, I will be able to move around a bit better down there now that I have gotten a few more boxes disposed of.
I did tie up a bunch of boxes so at least I can get around to the furnace and the fuse box if necessary. I don't know how long we'll hang onto the boxes, but for a while at any rate.
I've unpacked five or so boxes of books downstairs. I probably need to unload 4 more before I can clear out enough space to get to the wardrobe and make it a reasonably functional space. Of course, despite my best intentions, I don't have space on the bookcases for that many books. Still, I'll have to figure out something. In terms of the books I want to uncover, there are some key Greek texts, such as Herodotus and Thucydides; a bunch of SF, with the collected short stories of Roger Zelazny as my prime objective; several Eric Kraft novels; and a box set from Virago Press. If I can locate all that, I'll be satisfied. And perhaps I'll be able to move around a bit better down there.
It will take some time, but clearly I have to come up with a plan to declutter (probably mostly by scanning material and discarding it), and to organize what remains. I think it is more of a long-term goal, and I'll just have to accept that I won't see immediate progress in the next few months.
Update: I've spent a couple of hours trying to rearrange boxes and combine the half-full ones. I have tried to bring a few urban books upstairs, though I have probably at least a full bookcase of urban books that have now gone into deep storage. At some point I will face up to the fact I will never read them and start trying to offload them. It took quite a while, but I found the ones listed above (including the Kraft books just as I was about ready to give up). There is at least one more box of books that held my TBRD pile, including Cossery's Proud Beggars, which is coming up right away in my reading list. I think I will have to hold to my resolution to stop fussing in the basement for a while after I found those missing books, so I will have to see if Robarts has it in or if I have to request it through ILL. Kind of crazy, but these books could be mixed in with anything, including the data DVDs, and I just have to take care of other business for a while. Still, I will be able to move around a bit better down there now that I have gotten a few more boxes disposed of.
When things don't come together
I don't know what it is, but even when 95% or even 90% of things do come together and work out, even if not perfectly, I can't help but dwell on the negative and where things went wrong. We've managed to get the move completed and we've even set up quite a bit in the new house. I should be able to bask in the glory of a job well-done. Instead, I am fretting because I can't give away this file cabinet fast enough, and because a bookcase I was trying to give away has gotten damaged and probably is now headed for the junkyard.
The bookcase is such an odd case of the universe conspired against the "reuse" principle that it almost seems fated. Maybe in a few months I will even find it droll, though right now I am simply annoyed. I probably should have tried a bit harder to give it away sooner, but no one that I knew wanted it. Not even the struggling actors of Red One (though there is was a general lack of access to a van or truck that was the stumbling block). So I listed it on Craigslist (for free) and got two "offers." I definitely should have gone with my gut and taken the second one, but instead I went strictly chronologically. To avoid having to explain to a bunch of people it was already taken, I removed the listing from Craigslist. I get very stressed out having to disappoint people, which is probably what is actually at the root of my current discontent (well, mostly that but also not being able to bend the universe to my will).
After some back and forth, the first person decided that he couldn't fit the bookcase into his apartment after all, so I emailed the second person and told her that 7:30-9 would be suitable. I never heard back, and in fact checked email several times while I was taking care of some other tasks, most notably trying to put up more tarp under the deck. I finally sent her another email, and she replied that she had emailed me back but I hadn't responded and she thought I had changed my mind. Apparently, she had sent this, but it was routed through Craigslist or something and when I pulled the listing, it wouldn't forward the email. That seems kind of crazy. Also, if I had repeated my number or given my address right away, we probably would have connected. She said she would come over the next morning, but then her friend flaked out, and I had to start all over again!
As it turns out, the handyman cancelled on us Monday, but showed up eager to get everything done on Tuesday. So we had to move everything out of that storage space, and there was nowhere to put the bookcase (and the file cabinet) except under the deck and the tarp. Of course, Tuesday was the one day it rained all week...
The tarp works reasonably well for keeping water off bikes and deck chairs, but is not completely waterproof. So now there is some water damage to the bookcase, mostly to the backing. It is not clear just how well it will dry and whether mold might accumulate at some point. I think I will just have to tell the two new people still interested that there is some damage, and they'll have to decide for themselves. But I think it is most likely that the bookcase will not be salvaged. It just was such a frustrating case of things not coming together, when I was so close to getting it to work out.
For that matter, the shed is a similar story, where the ending isn't written. I told this woman at work that she would need a truck and 3 or 4 people to move the shed as an entire piece, but she came out and tried to disassemble it. That didn't work, so now I have to wait another week or so, and see if the next tenants are interested in purchasing the shed or I might be stuck in having to remove this shed (and at my own expense). I will definitely be irked in that case, though the woman who said she would buy my shed will end up having to pay me anyway, which should mostly cover the removal costs. Anyway, fingers crossed that the shed will come together in the end, unlike this bookcase.
The bookcase is such an odd case of the universe conspired against the "reuse" principle that it almost seems fated. Maybe in a few months I will even find it droll, though right now I am simply annoyed. I probably should have tried a bit harder to give it away sooner, but no one that I knew wanted it. Not even the struggling actors of Red One (though there is was a general lack of access to a van or truck that was the stumbling block). So I listed it on Craigslist (for free) and got two "offers." I definitely should have gone with my gut and taken the second one, but instead I went strictly chronologically. To avoid having to explain to a bunch of people it was already taken, I removed the listing from Craigslist. I get very stressed out having to disappoint people, which is probably what is actually at the root of my current discontent (well, mostly that but also not being able to bend the universe to my will).
After some back and forth, the first person decided that he couldn't fit the bookcase into his apartment after all, so I emailed the second person and told her that 7:30-9 would be suitable. I never heard back, and in fact checked email several times while I was taking care of some other tasks, most notably trying to put up more tarp under the deck. I finally sent her another email, and she replied that she had emailed me back but I hadn't responded and she thought I had changed my mind. Apparently, she had sent this, but it was routed through Craigslist or something and when I pulled the listing, it wouldn't forward the email. That seems kind of crazy. Also, if I had repeated my number or given my address right away, we probably would have connected. She said she would come over the next morning, but then her friend flaked out, and I had to start all over again!
As it turns out, the handyman cancelled on us Monday, but showed up eager to get everything done on Tuesday. So we had to move everything out of that storage space, and there was nowhere to put the bookcase (and the file cabinet) except under the deck and the tarp. Of course, Tuesday was the one day it rained all week...
The tarp works reasonably well for keeping water off bikes and deck chairs, but is not completely waterproof. So now there is some water damage to the bookcase, mostly to the backing. It is not clear just how well it will dry and whether mold might accumulate at some point. I think I will just have to tell the two new people still interested that there is some damage, and they'll have to decide for themselves. But I think it is most likely that the bookcase will not be salvaged. It just was such a frustrating case of things not coming together, when I was so close to getting it to work out.
For that matter, the shed is a similar story, where the ending isn't written. I told this woman at work that she would need a truck and 3 or 4 people to move the shed as an entire piece, but she came out and tried to disassemble it. That didn't work, so now I have to wait another week or so, and see if the next tenants are interested in purchasing the shed or I might be stuck in having to remove this shed (and at my own expense). I will definitely be irked in that case, though the woman who said she would buy my shed will end up having to pay me anyway, which should mostly cover the removal costs. Anyway, fingers crossed that the shed will come together in the end, unlike this bookcase.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Being reasonable (again)
Even though my main goal is wrapping up the common areas of the house and making them presentable, I also want to spend some time with the kids before they head off to a long sojourn in Chicago this summer. I took the kids to the ROM, since it was a free weekend for AGO members (I guess they do this once or twice a year), and after a bit of arm-twisting, I got my daughter to agree to see the Pompeii exhibit. I'll write more about that separately. I had thought pretty seriously about taking them to the Science Centre and Inside Out, but frankly I have been overdoing it and slept in a bit later than I expected. So we just went to the movies. I enjoyed Inside Out quite a bit, though it is quite emotionally manipulative. I wouldn't say it is the best Pixar film ever (like quite a few critics have), but it's probably in my top 5.
I was sort of shocked to see these great big letters right next to a TTC yard, since that it how I refer to this blog in shorthand. I actually made sure we walked past on the way back, so I could get some better photos. That actually paid off, as the next streetcar going west came out of the yard, and if we had been waiting back by the movie theatre, it would have been quite a long wait.
Next weekend, there is a moderate chance that I will take the kids to see Minions, and I'll probably take them to the Science Centre on Sunday. That is much better pacing than trying to get everything all done at once.
In terms of me being a bit more reasonable for myself. I had a chance to sign up to be a reviewer for the Toronto Fringe. It was quite tempting, but I would have had to go to quite a few shows last week, and I just don't think I could actually have fit them in. Maybe it's something I can consider next year, but that will depend a great deal on how work is going. Summers are generally extra busy for some reason.
I'm just not really feeling the Fringe this year. I decided to go see The Merry Wives of Windsor, though I kind of goofed a bit. I settled on Tuesday, since it is the evening most likely to rain, and I won't be losing out on a day to bike to work (finally I have my bike back!). But that is also the day I was going to get the van to get any lumber the handyman needed for the mini-construction project. I thought about trying to shuffle things around, but really I think it makes the most sense for him to buy what he thinks he needs, and I'll just pay the excess charges. Again, trying to be a bit more reasonable. Still, thinking ahead to all this work down in the basement, tomorrow evening I have to hang up the tarp under the deck, tired or not. Otherwise, there won't be anywhere to put the bikes and this spare file cabinet. (I really have to lean on these folks to come by and pick it up. I can't have it in my basement for much longer. And I guess I have no option but to put this bookcase up on Craigslist to see if I can get someone to take it away. If no one bites, it is going out with the construction waste at the end of the week.)
To add to all the Shakespeare, I'll be taking my son to Comedy of Errors in High Park this Friday (the weather looks decent). I think my daughter is still another year or two away from being able to appreciate something like this.
Now there is also a promising looking Twelfth Night (at the Fringe) as a late matinee this Sunday, but I've seen that quite a few times. I might see if my son responded well to Comedy of Errors and potentially take him (so we'd really have to make sure we had an early start to get to the Science Centre!). However, I think I will probably pass unless this happens to be one of the Pick of the Fringe shows, and then I'll catch it a bit later, though I will have to travel up north a fair bit. So I guess that is being somewhat reasonable, but it's a bit of a stretch.
I was sort of shocked to see these great big letters right next to a TTC yard, since that it how I refer to this blog in shorthand. I actually made sure we walked past on the way back, so I could get some better photos. That actually paid off, as the next streetcar going west came out of the yard, and if we had been waiting back by the movie theatre, it would have been quite a long wait.
Next weekend, there is a moderate chance that I will take the kids to see Minions, and I'll probably take them to the Science Centre on Sunday. That is much better pacing than trying to get everything all done at once.
In terms of me being a bit more reasonable for myself. I had a chance to sign up to be a reviewer for the Toronto Fringe. It was quite tempting, but I would have had to go to quite a few shows last week, and I just don't think I could actually have fit them in. Maybe it's something I can consider next year, but that will depend a great deal on how work is going. Summers are generally extra busy for some reason.
I'm just not really feeling the Fringe this year. I decided to go see The Merry Wives of Windsor, though I kind of goofed a bit. I settled on Tuesday, since it is the evening most likely to rain, and I won't be losing out on a day to bike to work (finally I have my bike back!). But that is also the day I was going to get the van to get any lumber the handyman needed for the mini-construction project. I thought about trying to shuffle things around, but really I think it makes the most sense for him to buy what he thinks he needs, and I'll just pay the excess charges. Again, trying to be a bit more reasonable. Still, thinking ahead to all this work down in the basement, tomorrow evening I have to hang up the tarp under the deck, tired or not. Otherwise, there won't be anywhere to put the bikes and this spare file cabinet. (I really have to lean on these folks to come by and pick it up. I can't have it in my basement for much longer. And I guess I have no option but to put this bookcase up on Craigslist to see if I can get someone to take it away. If no one bites, it is going out with the construction waste at the end of the week.)
To add to all the Shakespeare, I'll be taking my son to Comedy of Errors in High Park this Friday (the weather looks decent). I think my daughter is still another year or two away from being able to appreciate something like this.
Now there is also a promising looking Twelfth Night (at the Fringe) as a late matinee this Sunday, but I've seen that quite a few times. I might see if my son responded well to Comedy of Errors and potentially take him (so we'd really have to make sure we had an early start to get to the Science Centre!). However, I think I will probably pass unless this happens to be one of the Pick of the Fringe shows, and then I'll catch it a bit later, though I will have to travel up north a fair bit. So I guess that is being somewhat reasonable, but it's a bit of a stretch.
Progress (books back on shelves!)
We've actually made far more progress than just putting the books back on the shelves, though that makes a big difference, since it clears out a lot of boxes. I just finished with the main 3 bookcases that hold fiction, drama and poetry. I suspect that I will be able to keep the area in front of them clear (with all overflow delegated to the basement) in a way that I haven't succeed in doing for years. This makes me quite excited. I do need to try to squeeze in a few more paperbacks and I know I will uncover a small cache of Pym that will now have to find a place on the main shelves, as I can't just stash them on top of the bookcases. I've also pulled a few books to go into the basement.
In general, these past few days have been quite productive. I finished building a replacement wardrobe, I hung all the paintings and posters (aside from two that will go into the basement -- sense a recurring theme here?).
I'm perhaps most proud that I put up a shelf in the office. I think it looks pretty good and it is completely level. However, given that everything slants and slopes in this house (the downside of living in a house roughly 100 years old), I perhaps should have accepted just a slight decline to make it appear more in line with the rest of the room. It certainly isn't a big issue, however, and I certainly am not planning on trying to rehang the shelf. Once was enough!
What I am not proud of is that, even with the shelf, I have too many box sets. It's simply absurd. I have been making decent progress on listening to them at least once and then deciding which ones to part with. (Obviously anything I haven't listened to at all in the past year is a strong candidate for being culled.) I have a few leads on where to try to sell them off, and I'll probably start doing that more seriously later in the summer.
I'll just list the main things left to do before this place feels done:
That's not really too bad. I am finally starting to feel like I deserve a break -- or rather than I can let up a bit and relax. This place could be quite nice by the fall.
Update: So I've turned up an awful lot of the missing books and am trying to squeeze them in one way or another. Once again, the Complete Poems of Anne Sexton was one that was misplaced, and I didn't realize until I saw it in a box with a bunch of urban books. (A bit unfortunate as she is one of my favorite poets, but I'm sure I would have eventually noticed.) I do know I am missing a Faye Kicknosway poetry collection.* I also have somewhat inadvertently demoted a box of history books to the basement (I just hope there isn't too much fiction mixed in, as the shelves are now full). Still there isn't much point in getting too hung up over this until I have unpacked the boxes downstairs (or decided they are destined for long-term storage). In terms of the CDs, I am hoping to turn up a Giulini in Chicago set. I also am missing a nice box set of Claudio Abbado on Sony, though that might still be at work. But really I need to part with at least a linear foot of CDs. I probably can't do it all in one go, but if I set that as a goal for the next year (along with finding a place to take them off my hands!) I think I can make it.
* Actually, based on this post, I may have sold off All These Voices (the missing book), when it was superseded by Mixed Plate. I don't remember doing so, however. Maybe this means there are no more major surprises lurking in the basement, at least in terms of what I need to try to fit into the office, which would be nice.
** I guess this one "solved" itself because no one wanted the bookcase after it sustained water damage, as discussed here. I feel badly about it going to the dump, but I really tried to give it away. In general, aside from sanding the bathroom door down a bit and straightening the basement up a bit more and painting the downstairs bathroom, which I'll do when the rest of the family is in Chicago, I think the immediate tasks are all done. It is a pretty sweet feeling.
† In the end I had to hire electricians, since the box wasn't quite grounded properly. As frustrating as that was, I was dreading them having to punch a hole in the wall or ceiling, but it turns out the ground wire was there but just tucked away (and not long enough). I was so pleased that they didn't have to run any wires to the main switch that I didn't mind (too much) the extra cost. The fan looks good though, and they also fixed up a broken light in the front hall closet.
In general, these past few days have been quite productive. I finished building a replacement wardrobe, I hung all the paintings and posters (aside from two that will go into the basement -- sense a recurring theme here?).
I'm perhaps most proud that I put up a shelf in the office. I think it looks pretty good and it is completely level. However, given that everything slants and slopes in this house (the downside of living in a house roughly 100 years old), I perhaps should have accepted just a slight decline to make it appear more in line with the rest of the room. It certainly isn't a big issue, however, and I certainly am not planning on trying to rehang the shelf. Once was enough!
What I am not proud of is that, even with the shelf, I have too many box sets. It's simply absurd. I have been making decent progress on listening to them at least once and then deciding which ones to part with. (Obviously anything I haven't listened to at all in the past year is a strong candidate for being culled.) I have a few leads on where to try to sell them off, and I'll probably start doing that more seriously later in the summer.
I'll just list the main things left to do before this place feels done:
put the last of the urban books on the shelves in the officefind hardware for bookcase that we are giving away on Craigslist**turn part of old wardrobe into additional bookcase shelf for my songet Sauder to send replacement part for the desk and install itunpack books downstairs and get them on the shelves(that will help a lot, but the downstairs is a serious no-go zone at the moment)tighten up tarp so that space under deck stays relatively dryfix up rocking chair(missing washer/screw is somewhere in my son's room)- find the refrigerator magnets, since they will actually stick to this fridge
put up deck furnituretie up boxes and/or recycle themensure handyman does 1st phase of work(shore up basement & install downstairs railing)install new ceiling fan/light(leaning towards doing this myself with some help from a friend)†paint downstairs bathroom(I decided I just didn't like the color)sand down door on upstairs bathroom(it's sticking like crazy)- hire handyman for 2nd phase of work (install upstairs railing)
- sand and stain deck again (probably next year)
- have roofer come out and work on flat portion of roof (current work is supposed to have 2 more years of life)
- slowly go through other stuff in basement and clear out a lot
- double up and sew together curtains for middle portion of sliding glass door in office (I have the sewing machine at least)
- work on rug in office (this is sort of a longer-term project alluded to here, but I must do something as it is treacherous at the moment)
That's not really too bad. I am finally starting to feel like I deserve a break -- or rather than I can let up a bit and relax. This place could be quite nice by the fall.
Update: So I've turned up an awful lot of the missing books and am trying to squeeze them in one way or another. Once again, the Complete Poems of Anne Sexton was one that was misplaced, and I didn't realize until I saw it in a box with a bunch of urban books. (A bit unfortunate as she is one of my favorite poets, but I'm sure I would have eventually noticed.) I do know I am missing a Faye Kicknosway poetry collection.* I also have somewhat inadvertently demoted a box of history books to the basement (I just hope there isn't too much fiction mixed in, as the shelves are now full). Still there isn't much point in getting too hung up over this until I have unpacked the boxes downstairs (or decided they are destined for long-term storage). In terms of the CDs, I am hoping to turn up a Giulini in Chicago set. I also am missing a nice box set of Claudio Abbado on Sony, though that might still be at work. But really I need to part with at least a linear foot of CDs. I probably can't do it all in one go, but if I set that as a goal for the next year (along with finding a place to take them off my hands!) I think I can make it.
* Actually, based on this post, I may have sold off All These Voices (the missing book), when it was superseded by Mixed Plate. I don't remember doing so, however. Maybe this means there are no more major surprises lurking in the basement, at least in terms of what I need to try to fit into the office, which would be nice.
** I guess this one "solved" itself because no one wanted the bookcase after it sustained water damage, as discussed here. I feel badly about it going to the dump, but I really tried to give it away. In general, aside from sanding the bathroom door down a bit and straightening the basement up a bit more and painting the downstairs bathroom, which I'll do when the rest of the family is in Chicago, I think the immediate tasks are all done. It is a pretty sweet feeling.
† In the end I had to hire electricians, since the box wasn't quite grounded properly. As frustrating as that was, I was dreading them having to punch a hole in the wall or ceiling, but it turns out the ground wire was there but just tucked away (and not long enough). I was so pleased that they didn't have to run any wires to the main switch that I didn't mind (too much) the extra cost. The fan looks good though, and they also fixed up a broken light in the front hall closet.
Character as ciphers or cranks
Inspired by (or more accurately sufficiently disgruntled by) Satin Island by Tom McCarthy, I had originally expected to write a whole post about fiction (perhaps exclusively contemporary fiction) where the main characters are little more than ciphers. In other words, the reader has essentially no access to their inner thoughts or motivations. The "why" behind their actions is occluded or simply doesn't seem to exist at all. This is not terribly difficult to sustain for a short story, but is somewhat technically impressive extended to novel-length, though personally I find it makes for very boring reading. I don't think this is a trend very likely to catch on, as readers generally do demand more than a blank slate walking about when they are primarily looking for recreational reading.
In any case, I struggled more than I thought I would to find other examples. I think one can argue that some of the postmodern novels of Italo Calvino might qualify, such as If on a Winter's Night a Traveler and The Castle of Crossed Destinies, but his most famous work Invisible Cities, you have at least hints of what drives Marco Polo and the Emperor. Douglas Coupland probably qualifies at least in some of his work, due to the flat affect that characterizes many of his novels, though there flashes of motivating forces at play.
I think Donald Barthelme's fiction would generally be considered postmodern and far more concerned with the game-like aspect of much of this writing and less interested in presenting characters that have internally coherent motivations. Of course, he also largely confined himself to short stories. If I am recalling correctly, The King, his book-length version of the King Arthur legend, had characters that were somewhat fleshed out.
Olivier Rolin's Hotel Crystal is probably another decent example, where the narrator is just outlining the details of each hotel he stayed at, with the action almost entirely implied through footnotes in the text. It feels like he was mimicking Cortazar's Hopscotch or possibly Perec's Life: A User's Manual. It has been a long time since I read Hopscotch, and I haven't yet attempted the Perec, though I suspect they don't feature characters who are quite so blank. Perhaps I go too far, however.
There are a few intriguing novels where the main character's motivations are quite obscure because they are essentially hiding these motives from themselves and the reader discovers them along the way (as the characters are forced to face up to something). I'm thinking in particular of Walter Kirn's Up in the Air and Jess Walter's The Zero.
The other type of fiction that may lead to extremely under-developed characters is fiction written in the 2nd person, where "you" the reader are led through various events, just like the old Choose Your Own Adventure books. The reader would naturally fill in his or her personal details, so it might not feel like one is reading about a blank character. However, this type of novel runs the risk of having the narrator do something that the reader would never do, somewhat spoiling the mood. This is a relatively rare style, though there are a few examples.* With some prompting from Wikipedia, I came up with Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City, Georges Perec's A Man Asleep, Albert Camus' The Fall, Carlos Fuentes’ Aura and Mohsin Hamid's How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia.
Nonetheless, I think there is no question that reading about ciphers runs an extremely high risk of being boring. It's almost as if the author is daring the reader to pay attention to the clever games behind the novel, pulling the curtain back as it were, and most times, this is something we've seen before.
As it happened I read two novels back-to-back that featured fairly cranky characters -- Ivan Vladislavic's The Restless Supermarket and Gabrielle Roy's The Cashier. Alexandre Chenevert (the cashier) is in late middle age, whereas Aubrey Teale (from The Restless Supermarket) has been retired for a while, though still seems fairly mobile, so perhaps he is in his early 70s. (Cranks are generally past the prime of life.) Both are generally dismayed by the political changes happening around them, though Chenevert is responding more to the global upheavals of WWII and then the assassination of Gandhi, whereas Teale is basically horrified that whites are going to lose control in South Africa and specifically that the ANC is likely to take over Johannesburg. Both men are relatively high on the "control freak" spectrum and are generally a bit short-tempered with friends (of which they have few) and acquaintances. Money worries (which are often at the heart of matter of what drives cranks) seem far more pressing for Chenevert. I don't see how Teale could have a comfortable retirement from a job as a proof-reader of telephone books (!), but his expenses are relatively low, aside from eating out most nights at a local cafe.
Ultimately, The Cashier goes in a different direction, so a full-blown comparison of the two is probably not in order, but I think the fear of instability (and desire to go back to the way things were in the past) are defining characteristics of most cranks. What is quite different between them is that Roy is definitely more sympathetic to her character and tries to make the reader more understanding of and sympathetic to Chenevert earlier in the novel compared to Vladislavic. Teale actually starts out seeming just a bit cranky and misunderstood, but reveals himself to be more and more racist throughout the novel, though of course there is still some redemption to be had towards the end. I found this a really interesting novel, and I think I'll write more about it later, but it was a little bit like imagining a slightly milder Archie Bunker in Johannesburg watching the rise of the ANC.
Now that I have switched topics, I actually am wondering how many main characters are "cranks," as it does take a certain discipline to keep writing about somewhat unpleasant characters. There are plenty of minor characters who go on about the old days, particularly in British fiction set in India for example. Unless of course, the author is using his novel (and it is almost always a male author) to point out where the world has gone off its rails. I would generally nominate Kingsley Amis, Evelyn Waugh, Saul Bellow and, to a lesser extent, Philip Roth. Occasionally, an author will create a character much older than himself or herself, though in most cases, the reader is expected to come to appreciate the "old coot" fairly early in the narrative, despite outward crankiness. This is partially what Gabrielle Roy seems to have in mind. In this category, I would place Fuentes' The Old Gringo, Garcia Marquez's The General in His Labyrinth, and especially Oscar Casares' Amigoland.
I'm sure I had more on my mind when I thought about combining these posts, but they have slipped away. I guess my mental agility is not what it once was. I'll probably update this post if I can think of any more good examples of ciphers or cranks. And of course, suggestions in the comments are always welcome. I think one advantage of reading about cranks is that it reminds us that it is generally not a good thing to be the elderly man shouting "Get off my lawn!". Cranks don't have many friends, for good reason, as it is exhausting being in their presence. I always tell myself to be more patient and less judgmental after reading a novel featuring a particularly outrageous and/or unsympathetic lead character. Nonetheless, I rarely succeed for long. Indeed, rereading this post, which is an attack on the boring nature of Satin Island, I come off as fairly cranky myself. Well, it is hard for the tiger to change his stripes for very long.
* An even rarer style is first person, plural where "we" do this or "we" do that. The only example I am aware of is Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. It's hard to even characterize what happens here, but it is mostly about office politics and trying to find who stole whose chair, though it certainly turns darker by the end. Ironically, despite the hive-mind nature of most of the novel, it still offers more satisfying insight into personal motivation than Satin Island.
In any case, I struggled more than I thought I would to find other examples. I think one can argue that some of the postmodern novels of Italo Calvino might qualify, such as If on a Winter's Night a Traveler and The Castle of Crossed Destinies, but his most famous work Invisible Cities, you have at least hints of what drives Marco Polo and the Emperor. Douglas Coupland probably qualifies at least in some of his work, due to the flat affect that characterizes many of his novels, though there flashes of motivating forces at play.
I think Donald Barthelme's fiction would generally be considered postmodern and far more concerned with the game-like aspect of much of this writing and less interested in presenting characters that have internally coherent motivations. Of course, he also largely confined himself to short stories. If I am recalling correctly, The King, his book-length version of the King Arthur legend, had characters that were somewhat fleshed out.
Olivier Rolin's Hotel Crystal is probably another decent example, where the narrator is just outlining the details of each hotel he stayed at, with the action almost entirely implied through footnotes in the text. It feels like he was mimicking Cortazar's Hopscotch or possibly Perec's Life: A User's Manual. It has been a long time since I read Hopscotch, and I haven't yet attempted the Perec, though I suspect they don't feature characters who are quite so blank. Perhaps I go too far, however.
There are a few intriguing novels where the main character's motivations are quite obscure because they are essentially hiding these motives from themselves and the reader discovers them along the way (as the characters are forced to face up to something). I'm thinking in particular of Walter Kirn's Up in the Air and Jess Walter's The Zero.
The other type of fiction that may lead to extremely under-developed characters is fiction written in the 2nd person, where "you" the reader are led through various events, just like the old Choose Your Own Adventure books. The reader would naturally fill in his or her personal details, so it might not feel like one is reading about a blank character. However, this type of novel runs the risk of having the narrator do something that the reader would never do, somewhat spoiling the mood. This is a relatively rare style, though there are a few examples.* With some prompting from Wikipedia, I came up with Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City, Georges Perec's A Man Asleep, Albert Camus' The Fall, Carlos Fuentes’ Aura and Mohsin Hamid's How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia.
Nonetheless, I think there is no question that reading about ciphers runs an extremely high risk of being boring. It's almost as if the author is daring the reader to pay attention to the clever games behind the novel, pulling the curtain back as it were, and most times, this is something we've seen before.
As it happened I read two novels back-to-back that featured fairly cranky characters -- Ivan Vladislavic's The Restless Supermarket and Gabrielle Roy's The Cashier. Alexandre Chenevert (the cashier) is in late middle age, whereas Aubrey Teale (from The Restless Supermarket) has been retired for a while, though still seems fairly mobile, so perhaps he is in his early 70s. (Cranks are generally past the prime of life.) Both are generally dismayed by the political changes happening around them, though Chenevert is responding more to the global upheavals of WWII and then the assassination of Gandhi, whereas Teale is basically horrified that whites are going to lose control in South Africa and specifically that the ANC is likely to take over Johannesburg. Both men are relatively high on the "control freak" spectrum and are generally a bit short-tempered with friends (of which they have few) and acquaintances. Money worries (which are often at the heart of matter of what drives cranks) seem far more pressing for Chenevert. I don't see how Teale could have a comfortable retirement from a job as a proof-reader of telephone books (!), but his expenses are relatively low, aside from eating out most nights at a local cafe.
Ultimately, The Cashier goes in a different direction, so a full-blown comparison of the two is probably not in order, but I think the fear of instability (and desire to go back to the way things were in the past) are defining characteristics of most cranks. What is quite different between them is that Roy is definitely more sympathetic to her character and tries to make the reader more understanding of and sympathetic to Chenevert earlier in the novel compared to Vladislavic. Teale actually starts out seeming just a bit cranky and misunderstood, but reveals himself to be more and more racist throughout the novel, though of course there is still some redemption to be had towards the end. I found this a really interesting novel, and I think I'll write more about it later, but it was a little bit like imagining a slightly milder Archie Bunker in Johannesburg watching the rise of the ANC.
Now that I have switched topics, I actually am wondering how many main characters are "cranks," as it does take a certain discipline to keep writing about somewhat unpleasant characters. There are plenty of minor characters who go on about the old days, particularly in British fiction set in India for example. Unless of course, the author is using his novel (and it is almost always a male author) to point out where the world has gone off its rails. I would generally nominate Kingsley Amis, Evelyn Waugh, Saul Bellow and, to a lesser extent, Philip Roth. Occasionally, an author will create a character much older than himself or herself, though in most cases, the reader is expected to come to appreciate the "old coot" fairly early in the narrative, despite outward crankiness. This is partially what Gabrielle Roy seems to have in mind. In this category, I would place Fuentes' The Old Gringo, Garcia Marquez's The General in His Labyrinth, and especially Oscar Casares' Amigoland.
I'm sure I had more on my mind when I thought about combining these posts, but they have slipped away. I guess my mental agility is not what it once was. I'll probably update this post if I can think of any more good examples of ciphers or cranks. And of course, suggestions in the comments are always welcome. I think one advantage of reading about cranks is that it reminds us that it is generally not a good thing to be the elderly man shouting "Get off my lawn!". Cranks don't have many friends, for good reason, as it is exhausting being in their presence. I always tell myself to be more patient and less judgmental after reading a novel featuring a particularly outrageous and/or unsympathetic lead character. Nonetheless, I rarely succeed for long. Indeed, rereading this post, which is an attack on the boring nature of Satin Island, I come off as fairly cranky myself. Well, it is hard for the tiger to change his stripes for very long.
* An even rarer style is first person, plural where "we" do this or "we" do that. The only example I am aware of is Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. It's hard to even characterize what happens here, but it is mostly about office politics and trying to find who stole whose chair, though it certainly turns darker by the end. Ironically, despite the hive-mind nature of most of the novel, it still offers more satisfying insight into personal motivation than Satin Island.
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