Jim Paul muses on Western philosophy and the medieval mind as he makes his way through a harried weekend in Los Angeles, yielding a “delightful...humorous” book (Bloomsbury Review) whose every “sentence bursts with information, gorgeously put” (New Yorker).
Some years back, in fact a surprising number of years back, I took a novel class with Jim Paul. The class was good both because of Jim and because of the other students, and it helped me keep the novel I was writing in mind as I launched myself into graduate school.
At that time, Jim was about to move to Arizona, where he was to start a new job. We didn't stay in touch, but every now and then I think of him and wonder how he's doing, which this time around prompted me to re-read this book during a short trip. Since the book is about, or at least set during, a trip to LA, I might more appropriately have re-read it on a trip of my own to LA so that I could savor some of the details in a direct sort of fashion. However, as I try to avoid going to LA despite having friends there, it could have been several more years before I next got there, and the flight to Philadelphia was also a reasonable way to read parts of the book. After all, it's about medieval thought at the same time as being about a short trip to a modern city.
The book is a pleasant, ruminative read. It's not exciting, nor meant to be. It's about experiencing a short period of time, in the company of friends and acquaintances, in relation to sensory experience and a mental exploration of philosophical ideas. As a reader, I'm much more interested in medieval philosophy and medieval worldviews than I am in almost anything relating to Los Angeles (although I admit to enjoying Raymond Chandler's version of the city). To me, the greater Los Angeles area is a generally hot, gritty, unlivable sort of place that deformed my psyche for over a decade, but I admit that at times it has certain charms, which a visitor is sometimes lucky enough to encounter, and the book captures some of that sense of a familiar but not too familiar city caught on a good day, when everyone is calm, friendly, employed, and not too busy; when it's warm enough to wear shorts but not miserably hot; when the air is mercifully free of smog for the day. Both times that I've read this book, I wanted to like it more than I actually did, but at the same time I keep liking it for the quirky, low-key pleasure of seeing life through Jim, a person I have fond memories of and whose ability to observe and work minor details of life into his novels is both impressive and endearing.
This is a delightful book that I've given to many friends. I was thrilled when it was back in print. It is a thought-provoking read on the difference between being a modern mind that makes decisions based, supposedly, on information, data, and reason versus a medieval mind making decisions on "signs and portents." The story follows the main character on a trip to Los Angeles where, following a series of unfortunate incidents, he decides to be "medieval in L.A." and make choices based on "signs." It's not a book about a heroic journey or life-and-death events, but the sorts of choices we all have to make in our lives, and how we make them. Having read the book, when a series of events happen — "good" or "bad" — in my life, I find myself choosing between realizing they are random coincidences or reading them as "a sign." It's well written and handles the philosophical issues with a light, bright hand. I have re-read it twice now.
I enjoyed the pacing of this—travelogue vignettes of a weekend in Los Angeles stitched together by meditations on pre-modern and modern thought from Copernicus to Cage. Did you know that John Cage graduated valedictorian at Los Angeles High School? I learned that while reading this across the street from LA High, in the Memorial Branch of the LA Public Library and its western-facing stained glass windows dedicated to LA High alums who’d died in combat during WWI.