this week's meeting / choosing our next book

We had a good turnout on Monday evening, with newcomers Chip Parker and Hunt Jackson joining Chris Enloe, Michael Lumpkin, Steve Carvalho, and myself to contemplate a little Crime and Punishment. I think Enloe was the only one who made it through the entire book; I must confess (after interminable internal debate) that I resorted to listening to an audio recording (there, I feel better now . . . on the road to redemption). Unfortunately, my recording was abridged, so I'm determined to push on through to the end in print.

For those of you who weren't with us, I offer an interesting quote from midway through Part Three to chew on . . . this is the murderer Raskolnikov in conversation with inspector Porfiry Petrovich:

"In my opinion, if, as the result of certain combinations, Kepler's or Newton's discoveries could become known to people on no other way than by the sacrificing the lives of one, or ten, or a hundred or more people who were hindering the discovery, or standing as an obstacle in its path, then Newton would have the right, and it would even be his duty . . . to remove those ten or a hundred people, in order to make his discoveries known to all mankind."

Dostoevsky ultimately shoots down this line of thinking, Raskolnikov being unable to find any peace until he owns up to the error of his actions (his punishment being almost entirely internal). It was interesting to me that this conventionally moral conclusion made the book ultimately less challenging and enjoyable to me than a more modern treatment of the same subject matter might. I guess it's just too comforting to agree with Dostoevsky to be fun. I contrasted it with my recollections of the film Crimes and Misdemeanors, in which the protagonist finds inner peace only when he discards this internal struggle and decides that his crime is justified by the pain it has circumvented for those around him. Oh, by the way, someone mentioned Match Point as another Woody Allen film that reaches more or less the same conclusion . . . I Googled around and came across an analysis noting that Allen has Rhys Meyers' character reading Dostoevsky in an early scene. Looks like I'll have to see this film again sometime soon (oh twist my arm--Johansen has never looked hotter!).

At any rate, our next meeting, we decided, will be sometime in January, with a date TBA shortly (dependent on those Uber Group fellows' travel schedules). We decided Christmas is just too damn busy for everyone. We bandied about a number of possible titles and agreed in the end to put it to a vote (just like the olden days). So here are the possibilities: All The King's Men, by Robert Penn Warren; Hiroshima, by John Hersey; Thirteen Moons, by Charles Frazier; The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald; and The Trouble with Poetry, by Billy Collins. The poll will be open until the end of the week, so put in your two cents. If you are compelled to lobby for one of these choices, add a comment below!