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Stories from the Tube by Matthew Sharpe (Villard Books, 228 pages, $22) COMMERCIAL FICTION Readers often ask fiction writers, "Where do you get your ideas?" Matthew Sharpe's answer is the idiot box, specifically the advertisements that disrupt otherwise enjoyable (or monotonous) viewing. Using excerpts from TV commercials as a springboard for investigations into the psyche of American families, he dives into the space between bodies where unseen bonds quiver, twist and break. In "How I Greet My Daughter," for example, a congenial coffee ad is inverted, so a mother waking to the aroma of fresh-brewed joe is not overjoyed but rather angered that her wayward daughter has once again invaded her home. The tales in Stories from the Tube often turn surreal, with
mental transformations manifested physically: A man is psychosomatically
paralyzed; a woman becomes Marilyn Monroe; a boy is mutilated via unnecessary
surgery. It is as if the characters, once their relationships are stripped
of televised simplicity, can no longer sustain their outward appearance.
Though occasionally distanced from his subjects emotionally, Sharpe
is creative in imagining their demises. His prose, however, is not always
as fertile; to use an appropriate metaphor, the words don't sparkle
like Folgers crystals. What Sharpe does know how to do is brew up a
potful of ideas, blend them in an inventive blur and then split before
you're bored--which is, in fact, exactly how commercials are made. John
Graham Stay Free magazine Carrie McLaren, editor $2.95 per issue FIGHT BACK, STAY FREE Advertising giant Wieden & Kennedy employs some of the best artistic talent in Portland, and its cool ads should be regarded with a combination of admiration, regret and outright hostility. If you're in search of tools for decoding advertising and consumer culture, turn to Stay Free, a sly magazine published in New York City. It has a hipper slant than similarly focused Adbusters (indie-rock band Yo La Tengo mugs in one of Stay Free's fake ads) and an activist politic that leaves Brill's Content in the dust of right field. Editor Carrie McLaren is especially good on the topic of kids and advertising;
she recently organized a focused action against the Golden Marble Awards,
an "Advertising to Kids Conference" created by such eager marketers
as the Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon. The attack combined guerrilla
tactics such as satirical comics and a pamphlet-distributing mascot
(the Golden Weasel) with astute, unsparing analysis. Check out Stay
Free's Web site (http://sunsite.unc.edu/stayfree)
or, better yet, pick up the latest issue at Reading Frenzy (921 SW Oak
St., 274-1449). Sarah Dougher The Legend of Pope Joan by Peter Stanford (Henry Holt, 207 pages, $25) IN SEARCH OF THE SHE-POPE Now that the Citadel and the Vienna Philharmonic have finally acquiesced to gender integration, the papacy is one of the few remaining high-profile institutions that have never counted women among its members--or is it? For nearly a millennium, a story has persisted of one Pope Joan, successor to Leo IV, who held the Catholic Church's highest office for two years, five months and four days in the middle of the ninth century. A German woman of English parentage, she was said to have lived in disguise as a man until she collapsed in labor and gave birth during a procession. English journalist and biographer Peter Stanford came across the story in Rome and set out in search of the truth. His investigations led from the offices of the Vatican to Oxford's Bodleian Library and beyond, and though in the end he is unable to prove the story, he makes a convincing case for leaving the inquiry open. The book's brevity is both a curse and a blessing. Given that addressing
the legend requires a knowledge of the history and politics of a vast
institution, and that the source material comes from a time when history
was recorded poorly if at all, Stanford can't help but give most of
the evidence only cursory treatment. He also tends to interpret unequivocally
some of his clues, such as Bernini's sculptures on the baldacchino
in St. Peter's Basilica; one senses that he very much wants Joan's
story to be true. His writing is concise and energetic, however, and
his approach well thought out. The Legend of Pope Joan is a valuable
tool for understanding the sexual politics of the Catholic Church--as
contentious an issue now as it ever has been--and an extremely engaging
read as well. James McQuillen Cows With Guns by Dana Lyons (Penguin Studio, $14.95) BEEF BITES BACK Cows With Guns was originally a dopey song about the beef industry, replete with awful puns, that became something of a grass-roots hit. Now it's an illustrated book that comes with a CD including both the original and instrumental versions of the execrable tune. It looks like a children's book, but the tale of armed insurrection and the references to revolutionaries are clearly meant for an adult audience. (The hero is named--it pains me to write it--Cow Tse-Tongue.) Parents wishing to impress on their children the evils of eating meat would do better to rent Babe. James McQuillen - - - - - - - - - - - -
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