http://blogcritics.org/ A sinister cabal of superior bloggers on music, books, film, popular culture, politics, and technology - updated continuously. en Copyright 2005-2007 by the authors Mon, 12 Jul 2004 18:44:38 EDT http://backend.userland.com/rss Blogcritics.org custom software http://blogcritics.org/ Phillip WinnSunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding. Administration0@blogcritics.org Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/07/12/184438.php John Adams "His goal in life was to be an echo," Jeff Tweedy sings on "Hummingbird," a Beatles-inspired cut from Wilco's new album, A Ghost Is Born.No one is listening, Tweedy informs us. "In the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans / no one could hear him" - he pauses - "or anything."Whether he's talking about himself or not, it is readily apparent that Tweedy is still trying to break your heart.Ghost comes on the heels of Tweedy's recently publicized struggle with drug addiction and depression, and if this largely impressionistic album has any theme, it is the struggle to retain one's identity - one's soul - through that harrowing night.Tweedy uses his cryptic lyrics as faint pencil lines and brush strokes, sketching portraits of abused lovers, lost souls, and men who aspire to nothing more than being echoes in the steel canyons of Manhattan.His characters struggle with their identity throughout the album. On "Wishful Thinking," he writes, "I got up off my hands and knees / to thank my lucky stars that you're not me." Elsewhere, on "Handshake Drugs," Tweedy builds a solid, folk-tinged rock song atop a Motown vibe and then asks, "Exactly what do you want me to be?" before disappearing into a sea cave of fuzzed-out guitar sounds and synthetic loops. While his characters suffer from identity crises, Ghost suffers from Wilco's self-indulgence. Too many songs on this album fade into long, scratchy guitar parts or 10-minute noise solos."Spiders (Kidsmoke)," for instance, works for three minutes as a straightaway techno song, but then wears out its welcome somewhere between the needless repetition of the first verse and the song's final clock time of 10:41. Penultimate track "Less Than You Think" also overextends its stay, beginning as a pretty piano ballad and ending with the melody and instruments dissolving into a buzzy, metallic static. The whole insufferable thing drags on for exactly 15 minutes before ending.Caveats aside, there are several wonderful pop songs which succeed one another the middle of the album. Namely, the gentle, breezy "Muzzle of Bees," the softly rolling "Company in My Back" (which features Tweedy's raspy voice shifting to a soul-wilting falsetto), and the album's only instant classic, delivered in the form of a four-chord piano jam titled "Theologians."The only song that doesn't fit the album's melancholy theme is the final track. The witty "Late Greats" sees Tweedy giving a cheerful nod to the world of underground music, waxing lyrical about lost tracks, unsigned bands, and the greatest singer in rock 'n roll.It's a brief bit of sunshine, and it takes Wilco an album's worth of lost echoes in steel canyons to get there. Music17358@blogcritics.org Mon, 12 Jul 2004 18:44:38 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/12/31/163615.php John Adams5. (Tie) Beck, Sea ChangeBeck Hansen, alt-rock's original "Loser," found his way back to a state of melancholy in 2003, although his latest offering, aptly titled Sea Change, exhibits a sobriety and maturity not found on his previous works. No Gen-X anti-anthems with ironic afterthoughts ("drive-by body pierce!") for lyrics here -- Sea Change is written with a world-weariness far beyond the writer's twenty-odd years. The first single announced to the world that he was "tired of fighting for a lost cause," but it's opening-track "The Golden Age" -- part moonlit-sky night-driving anthem, part salve-in-the-wound breakup song -- that really sets the tone for the rest of the album, delivered in Hansen's gruff, brokenhearted tenor: "Put your hands on the wheel; let the golden age begin." 5. (Tie) Switchfoot, The Beautiful LetdownAfter writing almost half the soundtrack to one of last year's sappiest movies, San Diego-based rock band Switchfoot sought to redeem themselves with their male constituency by rediscovering overdrive pedals and releasing an album full of drop-D guitar anthems, with a couple of piano ballads thrown in for the chicks. As a result, they became Christian music's hottest ticket last summer, with first single "Meant to Live" getting regular play on MTV2 (still a relatively rare occurrence for a band saddled with the CCM label and its related baggage) and the band earning a nod as the "Next Big Thing" from Fuse. Lyrically, the band is still chugging down the same track as their last three records, expressing a deep-seated discontent with the status quo and merely religious Christianity from within the musical confines of post-grunge pop-rock. Lead singer Jon Foreman's been reading the right stuff -- "Meant to Live" is based on T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men" -- and some of his curt Gen-X/Y one-liners ("I have no generation") slam into their targets like cruise missiles, but he still hits wide of the mark when he tries to be both disillusioned and resolved ("show me my motivation...one hope and one salvation"). Still, a CCM band that can shake Christians out of their comfort zones, challenge non-believers to reach for something more, raise money for Bono's DATA project, and write a collection of catchy, enjoyable rock songs more than deserves a spot on this list. 4. Death Cab for Cutie, TransatlanticismSeattle indie darlings Death Cab for Cutie finally found their niche in 2003, releasing their fourth compilation of sad, guitar-driven songs to a significantly larger audience. After toiling away in underground obscurity and touring relentlessly for six years, the band finally gained national recognition, selling out shows at big-city venues like the Fillmore in San Francisco and getting regular airplay on MTV and college radio.Ben Gibbard, the quartet's singer/songwriter, is more direct this time around with his lyrics and more confident in his vocal delivery, although he has developed a cloying tendency towards the over-emotional. The rest of the band is superb, performing every song flawlessly, both on the record and onstage (I saw them live in November), although some of the older Death Cab fans will no doubt complain that this latest offering is much easier for newcomers to swallow than previous efforts. It is also much better produced -- the swirling background noises, clever loops, and smooth transitions that pervade the album's 13 songs should earn it a "Best Experienced with Headphones" sticker on the shrink-wrap.Although it would be nice to see Gibbard and co. move beyond the "eternal winter," as one reviewer put it, of Seattle-scene doom and gloom, Transatlanticism, with its pensive, listener-friendly melodies and intelligent lyrics, makes a great rainy-day record and outshines most of its peers in both style and substance. 3. Nada Surf, Let GoThis NYC trio, who first attracted national notice in 1996, with "Popular," a Clueless-era jab at the beautiful-people culture, re-released their third proper long-player this year on Barsuk Records, which, although technically more than a year old, was good enough to include here.Singer Matthew Caws has abandoned the snobby, post-grunge social commentary of his former years, instead writing an album full of songs with bright pop hooks played at breakneck speeds, slowing down only occasionally to celebrate seemingly abstract things in life, like listening to Bob Dylan in the rain ("Blonde on Blonde") and red beetles with dots ("Blizzard of '77"), or wondering wistfully what it must be like on the "Inside of Love."Add to the album's catchiness a genuinely likeable band with a few welcome quirks -- an oddball track called "La pour ca" is sung entirely in French -- and Nada Surf's latest comes in ahead of label-mates Death Cab for Cutie's, despite having opened for them on the U.S. leg of their tour. 2. Damien Jurado, Where Shall You Take Me?If fellow Seattle natives Death Cab for Cutie exploded in 2003, the year saw singer/songwriter Damien Jurado's fifth proper album go largely unnoticed by any except a small cadre of devoted fans. Where Shall You Take Me, however, proved to be a stunning album. The yellowed, water-damaged picture of a lonely farmhouse on the sleeve sets the tone for an album of lovely folk songs both enamored with rural America (in the vein of its predecessor, Ghost of David) and disillusioned with the disintegration of American society and seeking direction (hence, the title).Hushed opening track "Amateur Night" drops a few sparse clues hinting at a murder before dropping the listener abruptly into "Omaha," a song about a family on a road trip in the Midwest, on a journey that they hope will take them to the top of America ("This country will know us by name"). "Abilene," "Window," "I Can't Get Over You" and "Tether" sound as though they could have been common songs passed along from generation to generation before Jurado put them to wax, while "Matinee" is a small town boy's excited account of spending an afternoon at the movies. The album has moments of sadness and moments of joy, but the first nine songs lead up to the climactic "Bad Dreams," in which a troubled narrator -- perhaps the killer from "Amateur Night" -- seeks relief from fear and anxiety and pens a plea for salvation.Ending with the words, "Come, save me from this fire," this album is a chilling account of the complexities that life can take on in the simplicity of a smalltown context. 1. The Postal Service, Give UpBen Gibbard has the honorary distinction of being the only artist to appear twice on this list. (He also sings and writes for Death Cab for Cutie.) Completed through the mail as a side project for each of the "band's" two members, Give Up became one of the surprise hits of 2003, and, in my opinion, the year's best album.It is not often that a side project exceeds the original band in quality, but the Postal Service managed to do so by juxtaposing Gibbard's romantic-dreamer lyrics with Jimmy Tamborello's layered effects and quirky beats. The result is a sound that sonically name-checks 80's electronica acts like Yaz and the Thompson Twins while managing to sound strikingly 21st-century.Thanks to Tamborello's superb production, each individual song takes on a life of its own and the album sounds completely different from track to track, with the songs' effects matching and enhancing their lyrical content. "Clark Gable," a song about making a movie, opens with a whirring sound evocative of a film reel. "This Place is a Prison" speaks of "guards at the onramps, armed to the teeth" and because of the subterranean, pulsing drumbeat, it actually sounds exactly like it would look.In the end, however, Gibbard's romantic optimism is what wins the day. Whether he's planning on sleeping in, starting a brand new colony, or writing a natural anthem to "rally the workers on strike for better pay," his optimism is palpable and his idealism infectious.Now, if only he and Tamborello would tour... Music11367@blogcritics.org Wed, 31 Dec 2003 16:36:15 EST http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/06/17/002502.php John AdamsAlways Sunday is a great new indie band from Mississippi, of all places. I've heard three tracks so far off their debut album, Beautiful Disgrace, (follow link to download MP3's) and I'm impressed so far with what I've heard.What follows is a conversation I had with singer Trent Dabbs via e-mail.How did you get your name? This will be a short answer. Always Sunday happened to be the only name our old drummer and the band could agree on...it is the best day of the week though...a day of rest and gladness. Don't you wish it was Always Sunday?Who would you say are your primary and secondary influences? Everyone in the band would have different answers, but my primary sources would be Jeff Buckley, Red House Painters, Marvin Gaye, and Teenage Fanclub and my secondary sources Morrisey, The Posies, old Van Morrison, and Neil Young.The song "Take A Shot" has the line "There's no pictures of eternal things / Take a shot for me if you find one." I got the impression that it's about wanting to hold onto life as it passes by. What were you thinking about when you wrote it? I agree with your thoughts...the song has much weight behind it, being about a young death in the family...I thought that if I held a Polaroid of heaven and I could stare at the picture daily then maybe I would approach life differently...so basically it is about longing -- and who doesn't have a yearning for what is not present any longer? I miss my brother and the song stretches my heart out every time we perform. Hopefully it can do the same for others, and we have recorded the song again with a bridge that says "how far away from this sincere love?" For me it's too far. On your website, one member is quoted as saying the songs are "about all the women that reject me." Another says "It's interesting how you cannot escape your personal life in your art." How much of your personal lives actually bleed into the lyrics? Well, I write the lyrics so I can attest to the fact that it's definitely not all personal. I mean, several songs are playful as I'm sure you can tell. However, the more personal songs that evoke more emotion are the more solid songs that have surfaced during difficult times. I try not to put myself in too much of a vulnerable position so I'll also write about others around me. The difficult part of writing is that I never want to shortchange a great melody with an impersonal lyric, so I'm sure at this rate our next record will turn into biographies if we go for more intensity and less tongue and cheek. Are your songs written at the moment of passion, or after you've had time to sit back and analyze what's happened? I have never understood how a song could take someone a long time to develop. [I'm not sure] whether that says something about the song, or perhaps I am [just] prolific...but to answer you, it's usually passion and stream of consciousness, and as a matter of fact, I just wrote a song about answering questions from interviews after I finished this sentence. Bad joke. Good question.The Deep South is known more for turning out anthem-driven bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd than intelligent, emotionally honest pop rock. Did you have to reach outside of your local environment for influences to cultivate your sound? Absolutely. No question. I would probably search for other influences even if they were here but I am terribly attracted to beautiful sounding melody and noise. Those two don't meet very often in the south, although we have shared a few shows with bands that can hold there [sic] own. We are far from Morrisey down here, yet I have watched an eighty year old man play acoustic and been on the verge of tears.How would you characterize your relationship with the South? (Do you sometimes feel restrained, etc.) I am unsure whether feeling restrained is attached to the south or just being an unheard artist. I am convinced that there are painters with their most beautiful work under their bed with the understanding that the dream will never come to life. Most days, I don't think our music is a dream or at least an unattainable one. So I listen to my wife, believe my work, and I press on...the south brought my wife to me and I hope I can bring the music to the listener and without being pretentious, maybe, to the frustrated artist.And finally, what other up-and-coming bands would you recommend? Leaves, Longwave, The Walkmen, Interpol, Sigur ros, Reindeer section, [and] nada surf. Music6237@blogcritics.org Tue, 17 Jun 2003 00:25:02 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/05/27/014131.php John AdamsHaving lived in Haiti my whole life, I am generally skeptical of anything that a foreigner writes, sings, or says about Haiti. However, Michael Heinl, the third generation of Heinls to pick up where the previous one left off, has a deep understanding of the Haitian people, a notable trait essential to continuing such a legacy. Robert Debs Heinl was (I believe, I can't find the book in my closet) a U.S. Marine who felt impelled to write a detailed history about this little country. Historians seem to lack friends here, though, he was declared "persona non grata" by the infamous "Papa Doc," presumably for getting a little too close to the truth of the horror that personified that regime. Son Michael provides two additional chapters: one on "Baby Doc," Duvalier's inept son, Jean-Claude, and another slightly condensed chapter on the post-Duvalierist anarchy, the international embargo, and the U.S. intervention in 1994. Beginning in 1492, with Columbus' discovery of the island he would christen Española (little Spain), the book continues on to French colonization, the bloody revolution of 1791, independence and isolation during the 19th century, anarchy during the early part of the 20th, dictatorship from the 50's to the 80's, and the modern state of anarchy, environmental depletion, and overpopulation. It gives the history of the independent Haitian state in remarkable detail, considering there are not very many written records remaining. Most of the stories and images in the book were gleaned from international museums and libraries, and word-of-mouth accounts from old-timers among the aristocracy and the commonfolk. Written in Blood describes in detail the horrors of various regimes, never flinching at bloody details, and brutal acts of violence, one of the attributes that earned Robert Debs Heinl "persona non grata" status from François Duvalier. It is not for the weak of heart or the weak of stomach. Although the stories from the late 19th and 20th centuries were tiresome to me, as the book resembles more of a historical record than an informative tome, the chapters are neatly divided into rulers and eras, and it is easy to skip a period in time if you wish to do so. Heinl understands perfectly the alternately placid and ultra-violent tendencies of the Haitian people, but tended to focus a bit more on the guts and blood, which I found unappealing, but then again, this is history, not a cultural exposé. He disappointed me by understanding perfectly the underlying motives and aspirations of the Duvaliers, and yet failing to record the necklacing and violence openly embraced by Aristide himself, buying into the politically correct view of the time that all Haitians were overjoyed with the intervention, and ready to start democratizing immediately. Another con was that Heinl expects his readers to understand the mixture of French and Creole that is used quite regularly throughout the book. For example, does the average American reader know what "teledyol" is? (The network of gossip-mongers that predicts, often correctly, every coup d'état in the nation's history.) Also, the book does not bother to spare the reader the details of such lovely subjects as decapitation, infanticide, suicide, slave torture, impalement, and child abuse. The chapters on the two Duvaliers, Papa Doc and Baby Doc, and the post-Duvalier era were particularly interesting and enjoyable. The book stops short of the present-day situation, as it ends in 1995 on a hopeful note with President René Preval at the opening of a public works project. That hope and optimism that characterized so much of the Haitian population during the U.S. intervention in 1994 has long since been discarded, but one can at least understand the historical aspect of Haiti's inability to achieve stability through this book. Books5645@blogcritics.org Tue, 27 May 2003 01:41:31 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/05/23/024124.php John Adams One of the fondest memories of my mid-childhood was laughing out loud to Garfield comic strips, and watching his cartoon on Nickelodeon. Now, the famous feline will be terrorizing the mailman and kicking Odie off the table for a new generation as a CGI animation (à la Scooby Doo) in a major feature film, which will star Breckin Meyer (Road Trip, Rat Race), as the utterly clueless Jon Arbuckle, Garfield's owner/pet human. Jennifer Love-Hewitt (I Know What You Did Last Summer, Can't Hardly Wait) will play Liz.Past flops aside, Meyer and Hewitt are two genuinely likable actors - which may prove to be their downfall. Meyer is an affable guy, but it remains to be seen whether he can summon up the extreme dorkiness required to bring Jon Arbuckle to life. Hewitt has snob potential (as evidenced in the utterly horrible Heartbreakers), but I'm not sure she can pull off the perpetual uninterestedness of Arbuckle's crush, Liz. It's nice to see her trying on a kinder, gentler role for size, though.Most disappointing is that the film will not feature the voice of Lorenzo Music (he passed away in 2001), the man whose witty monotone brought the sarcastic, lasagna-loving furball to life, to the delight of children - and adults with dominant inner children - everywhere in the 90's. Here's hoping Kevin Spacey gets to fill his shoes. Video5536@blogcritics.org Fri, 23 May 2003 02:41:24 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/05/10/233825.php John AdamsA yellowed, time-weathered photograph of a rural house serves as cover art for Damien Jurado's latest album, Where Shall You Take Me?, and a smalltown atmosphere permeates the 10 songs on this short recording, the blanks filled in by with stories of tragedy, lost love, misplaced hopes, and simple pleasures.Wherever Jurado is being taken, he is feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. The album is bookmarked by expressions of guilt. Ghoulish opening track "Amateur Night" paints a fragmented image of a killer rationalizing it away. ("I am not an evil man / I just have a habit that I can't kick.") Doleful closing track "Bad Dreams" longs to change himself and escape from the hell he's made for himself. ("And I have bad dreams / Done so many bad things / So come save me from this fire.")Other tracks look back with nostalgia at the innocence of childhood ("Omaha") and express a longing for the simplicity of the small town ("Matinee"). All reflect a general weariness with life. Musically, the album is fragmented, most of it picking up where the 1999 EP Gathered in Song left off. "Abilene," "Window," and "I Can't Get Over You" could easily pass for modified Appalachian folk tunes. The electric guitar is used only on standout track "Texas to Ohio," a longtime live favorite, now a fuzz-laden anthem that's really too slow to compensate for the pace of the other nine languid tracks.If you're already acquainted with Jurado's work, this one's worth adding to your collection. Otherwise, pick up Rehearsals for Departure for the best of Jurado's acoustic sound or I Break Chairs for the best of his electric work. Music5216@blogcritics.org Sat, 10 May 2003 23:38:25 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/04/17/215724.php John AdamsAt first glance, Can't Hardly Wait is just another teen flick, with cookie-cutter characters and an angst-ridden-but-not-quite soundtrack. Although it does fit the form of genre counterparts such as She's All That and 10 Things I Hate About You, it comes off as a lovable underachiever, much like its lead character, Preston, played ably by Ethan Embry, the lovably diffident dreamer who's harbored a secret crush on the luscious Jennifer Love Hewitt for the past four years. It turns out that Preston has written a letter -- revised many times over -- and plans to give it to Amanda Beckett (Hewitt) at the party on the night of high school graduation, since high school jock/neanderthal Mike Dexter (Peter Facinelli) has dumped her, in anticipation of a hedonistic summer spent on beaches and in strip clubs. Along the ride with Preston is his friend Denise Fleming (Lauren Ambrose), an anti-social Janeane Garofalo character with a chip on her shoulder and a heart of gold. While Preston labors on trying to deliver his letter to Amanda, which proves much harder than originally thought, Denise gets locked in the upstairs bathroom with a hilarious pre-Austin Powers Seth Green, playing the role of Kenny Fisher, an elementary-school sycophant who has transformed himself into a wigger with questionable street cred. Meanwhile, the nerd (doesn't every high school have one?), William Lichter, played to the hilt by the talented Charlie Korsmo, is plotting revenge on Mike for 12 years of abuse. He ends up getting drunk, and raucous antics ensue. This movie tries to be many things at once: comedy, romance, typical high-school movie. Sometimes it overstretches itself, leaving out details that would have extended its quality. For example, the final scene where Preston and Amanda fall in love seems strange, since virtually little to nothing is known about Amanda's feelings for Preston. Nothing is shown that would make Amanda's newfound affection for Preston seem more real. Even Preston's letter is never read. Where the movie shines in its ability to make us feel Preston's emotional pangs. Embry shines as the doleful, good-hearted senior with a perpetual puppy-dog expression. Hewitt's abilities as an actress are questionable (Heartbreakers and The Tuxedo, anyone?), but overall, she turns in a decent performance as Amanda, although the scene meant to bare her feelings about going out with Mike is ruined by her overly sincere delivery. Although the laughs peter off in the second half of the film, Seth Green's talent as a humorist is undeniable. He turns in an excellent portrayal of the white guy who desperately wants to be black. He is even more convincing when it is revealed that he was a simpering youth in grade school who had a close friendship with Denise. Unfortunately, the movie also contains unrealistic depictions of alcohol abuse. (Everyone gets off in the end, despite an entire night and early morning of hard drinking.) While waxing honest about the imperfections of first-time sex, it implies that the only cure for first-time blues is, well, more sex. In an era of unprecedented sexual risk, this is definitely not the message teens need to be hearing. In the wake of September 11th, it is hard to imagine anything this enjoyably trite being made today. Such carefree odes to adolescence have been passed over for darker cinematic epics such as Gangs of New York and The Life of David Gale. Perhaps a few years down the road, when the shock has finished wearing off, we can return to writing films that, while not essential, capture the beauty of youth, love, and coming of age. This is no cinematic statement, but it's definitely worth a rental, if only to clear the mind. Video4695@blogcritics.org Thu, 17 Apr 2003 21:57:24 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/04/16/172820.php John AdamsGraham Greene was a master novelist. He created characters that were amazingly true-to-life, sketched from deep reservoirs of life experience. He assigned them bland, nondescriptive names, and stuck them in impossible situations and exotic locales. The Comedians finds Mr. Brown the protagonist - if he can be called that - aboard a ship bound for Haiti. We never learn his first name, but we know that he is a drifter, a bit of a loner. He is a hotelier that has seen better days. He had the misfortune of inheriting a hotel in 1950's Haiti, and as the narrative opens, is returning from an unsuccessful attempt to sell it off in New York City. The ship is filled with mysterious, eccentric characters who will all play greater and fuller roles in the plot that is about to unfold. Mr. and Mrs. Smith - the idealistic Americans - are on their way to Haiti to start a vegetarian center. (They claim that the passions of man have been aroused by eating meat, and that a vegetarian diet would effect peace on earth.) Mr. Jones is a war hero with a fondness for braggadocio who is more than he seems to be. All are playing a part that was not originally theirs - hence the title, "The Comedians." Despite its good understanding of the Haitian culture and mindset, The Comedians is still a tourist at heart - thoroughly Western in its disillusioned monotone. It avoids lingering on the power or class struggles raging down the hill from Brown's hotel in the center of the city, but instead focuses on the characters' emotions, reactions, and insecurities - perhaps in a way giving muted voice to Greene's own. Indeed, all of Graham's proud, flawed characters are stunningly and utterly flawed, and they steal the reader's captivation. All are selfish and manipulative, perhaps merely variations on the same theme. It is Brown - by far the strongest character - who sets the tone with his moody narrative, punctuated with infrequent jabs at U.S. foreign policy and the Duvalier establishment. Brown's selfishness eventually gets the best of him, and Greene closes the novel with a plot twist that introduces more questions than it answers. Even then, Brown's thorough disenchantment comes through vividly. All have been comedians in some sort of divine script, jesters in the court of Providence. In typical British style, the plot has no effect on any overall scheme. Life continues as it was, unperturbed by the small ripple of events happening in the Caribbean. As Brown himself put it, 'There were no heights and no abysses in my world - I saw myself on a great plain, walking and walking on the interminable flats.' At least the scenery was nice. John Adams lives in Haiti and maintains his own blog at www.themasterspen.com Books4659@blogcritics.org Wed, 16 Apr 2003 17:28:20 EDT