‘The Moviegoer’ – Walker Percy

photoIt is salient to point out that The Moviegoer is not about movies. At least not entirely. There are a few cameos, some allusions to then-contemporary films from the 50’s like Fort Dobbs. But cinema is certainly not the intent of Walker Percy’s debut novel. Published in 1961, Percy’s Southern gothic would beat out Salinger’s Franny and Zooey, Heller’s Catch-22, and Richard Yates’ Revolutionary Road for the National Book Award. Living with Lit seeks to understand this considered upset and, once again, verify if The Moviegoer is still relevant.

The Moviegoer follows the humbly complacent Lousianan named Binx Bolling. Mister Bolling is on a quest for purpose. Chronicling the week up to his 30th birthday, the New Orleans resident has an itch to ‘discover’ a yet-to-be-named ‘something’. His aunt believes a formal pursuit of medical schooling would satisfy Binx’s sought after life-path. Binx, on the other hand, believes women or God may be the answer. Or, maybe, there is no answer at all.

Percy slowly constructs the mysterious Binx Bollig throughout The Moviegoer. Fragmented pieces and morbidly-poetic strands from his oblique past work to form a the protagonist. Percy achieves this technique by indulging in unexpected moments of reflection.These irreverent reveals are coupled with the contemporary Binx, in which every interaction is slightly cockeyed and rather intense. Readers begin to wonder: is it Binx that is oft-kilter or the zany world around him?:

“We talk, my aunt and I, in our old way of talking, during pauses in the music. She is playing Chopin. She does not play very well; her fingernails click against the keys. But she is playing one of our favorite pieces, the E flat Etude. In recent years I have become suspicious of music. When she comes to a phrase which once united us in a special bond and to which once I opened myself as meltingly as a young girl, I harden myself.”

An obvious characteristic of The Moviegoer is the slow drawl in Percy’s actual voice. The prose reads heavy and paced, with no intent of conforming to a succinct style. This is not necessarily enjoyable for all readers. However, those who finish the (admittedly short) book, understand that the forced patience with the writing is necessary for the Southern portrait:

“Here is the public service truck with its tower, measuring the clearance under the oak limbs and cutting some wet drooping branches. We wait to see the flambeaux bearers and now here they come, a vanguard of half a dozen extraordinary Negroes dressed in dirty Ku Klux Klan robes, each bearing aloft a brace of pink and white flares. The flambeaux create a sensation. The bearers stride swiftly along the very edge of the crowd, showering sparks on everyone. They look angrily at each other to keep abreast, their fierce black faces peeping sidewise from their soiled hoods. Kate laughs at them. The Negro onlookers find them funny, but their bold manner, their contemptuous treatment of the crowd, excites them too. “Ah now!”, they cry. “Look at him! Ain’t he something though!”

Being a character-driven novel, what makes The Moviegoer so notable is Binx’s transformation. This is best displayed textually. Speed increases and the writing style evolves as our main character departs from his emotionally stolid New Orleans for a business trip to the North. Like Hemingway’s irreverent translations (or ‘Papa’s prose‘) in For Whom the Bell Tolls, the conclusion of the novel utilizes an eccentric style with infections precision:

The delegates are very decent fellows. I find myself talking to half a dozen young men from the West Coast and liking them very much – one in particular, a big shy fellow from Spokane named Stanley Kinchen, and his wife, a fine-looking woman, yellow-haired and bigger than Sharon, lips curling like a rose petal, head thrown back like a queen and a tremendous sparkle in the eye. What good people they are. It is not at all bad being a businessman. There is a spirit of trust and cooperation here. Everyone jokes about such things, but if businessmen were not trusting of each other and could not set their great projects going on credit, the country would collapse tomorrow and be no better off than Saudi Arabia. It strikes me that Stanley Kinchen[business associate] would actually do anything for me. I know I would for him. I introduce Kate as my fiancee and she pulls down her mouth. I can’t tell whether it is me she is disgusted with or my business colleagues. But these fellows: friends and-? What, dejected? I can’t be sure.”

The Moviegoer is a novel of self-discovery that attracts young souls. It is one of those books that will ‘find you’. In my case, a Texan thrust it into my hands, proclaiming it was his favorite novel – ever. While Percy isn’t explicit – and is ‘contradictory‘, apparently – in his intentions for The Moviegoer, to quote Robert Burton, “Pro captu lectoris habent sua fata libelli.*”


Percy would go on to write five more novels and many essays. When The Moviegoer won the Best Fiction Novel in 1961, few had read it – at least relative to the aforementioned contenders. Does that mean the Award and the novel’s place on the Time’s Top Novels of the 20th century are a fluke? Whatever Percy’s debut novel may lack in 21st-century relevancy, The Moviegoer makes up for in reminding readers that Southern literature does exist.

*“According to the capabilities of the reader, books have their own destiny.

Stained Glass – William F. Buckley Jr.

stainedglassNo Conservative thinker of last century struck more ire and fear into the heart of the American left than William F. Buckley Jr. Author of a dozen Right-leaning books – with titles like Up From Liberalism – and his monthly periodical National Review, the fiercely anti-communist ideologue was one of the principal characters in 20th-century Conservative thinking. Alongside non-fiction, Buckley produced a number of novels about fictionalized C.I.A. officer Blackford Oakes. Like fellow contemporary and arch-nemesis Gore Vidal, the opinion is divided on whether Buckley was a better novelist or political columnist. So, using Stained Glass, the second entry in the Blackford Oakes series, we’ll try and come to a consensus.

The time is the early 1950’s. Relations between the West and Soviet East have soured, leaving Germany cracked in half by the concrete Berlin wall. A young German count, Alex Wintergrin, has called for his people to unite and overthrow their Communist oppressors. The Soviet press, in response, sounds the alarm that Wintegrin is another Hitler. The West is hesitant before making their next move. On one hand, booting out Russian troops in the name of democracy is not only supported in theory, but in policy ala the Truman Doctrine. However, prodding the nuclear holding Soviets – who already assume Wintegrin is funded by Western forces – could bring about the apocalypse. What to do? Keep a watchful eye on Wintergrin with the ace C.I.A. operative, Blackford Oakes.

Buckley once said, “We must confront the World as it is, not as we wish it to be.” Thus, Stained Glass is heavily grounded in the tense Cold War atmosphere of the 1950’s. Many actual American political characters, German parliamentary parties, and post-war situations exist freely and frequently throughout the novel. To even basic followers of Cold War history, this could be a challenge. However, these nuanced inclusions fail to curb any entertainment. On the contrary, readers receive a glimpse of  the awesomely consequential internal conflicts of Germany and the World at play:

“When he rose at his alma mater to announce that if the Occupation Forces would not deliver an ultimatum to the Russian to reopen the road to Berlin, the German people should do so, he was suddenly a conspicuous figure on the European scene, a man not yet thirty years old. Until then no national notice of him had been taken, only here and there a character piece in a local newspaper about the aristocratic curio who dreamed of irredentism and talked as if he would smash the Red Army with the might of his left fist, trained at the gymnasium at Heidelberg. These efforts at caricature failed when undertaken by reporters who went to hear him talk. They could no longer bring off conventional ideological denigration. (‘Count Wintergrin seems to have forgotten the horrors of war…’) But after Heidelberg, all the major papers in Europe suddenly began to take notice of Axel Wintergrin and his – his what? they asked themselves. Here was someone who, biologically could have been the grandson of Adenauer, the de factor leader of the country (with his Christian Democrat Union, serving as chancellor under the authority of the joint occupation command.) And when direct elections came in November 1952, Adenauer would surely win – with the Social Democrats under Erich Ollenhauer talking perhaps one-third of the seats. Germany’s future would be a generation’s oscillation of power between these two parties, the analysis joined in predicting. There was no room for the so-called ‘Reunification’ Party of this Wintergin. Why so much fuss over a quixotic Heidelberg Manifesto? Why had groups in every major city in Germany suddenly invited the young count to address them: elated veterans’ organizations, cynical student associations, inquisitive business associations, wary labor unions – even, here and there, always discreetly, organizations of civil servants…why the fascination with him?”

Buckley, contrary to his conservative nature, does not conform to traditional literary styles. Rather his prose is closer to Modernist detail and description; albeit with espionage-novel suspense. T.S. Eliot labels this style ‘mythical’ rather than narrative. The author presumably chose this approach of lengthy dialogue and description to convey a personal essence so characteristic in his writing and speech. While it certainly requires some adjustment, Buckley’s winding execution of the narrative in Stained Glass reads necessary to the tense post-war atmosphere:

“Blackford left his car in the courtyard, and as he walked into the huge archway, the small door embedded in the gate swung open, releasing a shaft of yellow light in to the late-summer dusk. Someone had been waiting for him. He followed a creaky old man wearing a green vest over a white shirt, and an apron over his pants, through a cold hallway into a warm, chintzy living room, the fireplace crackling, over which a single crystal chandelier, its dozen candles lit, hung, illuminating the eight painted panels depicting the Borghese Gardens in midsummer. The countess was there in her drawing room and rose to greet him, a warm but formal smilie on her high-boned face.”

Followers of Buckley will recount that his fierce anti-Soviet nature was matched only by a devout faith in Catholicism. This religiosity ran so deep that the author even condemned the liberal views adopted by the Catholic Church in Vatican II. Naturally, this strong sentiment for the divine seeped into Stained Glass. As a cover while tailing Wintegrin, the C.I.A. assigns Oakes to facilitate the rebuilding of the local church at St. Anslem. This assignment turns into an aesthetically and soulful pet project for Oakes, as well the perfect vehicle to transmute the author’s faith:

“And then, at the eastern end, a hundred meters from the castle, the chapel. It was the Catholic church for the whole village, the churchgoing members of which came the two and one-half kilometers on foot, by bicycle, and increasingly by car and bus to attend Sunday services, weddings, funerals, and baptisms. During the final western offensive, the Nazis had installed a heavy mortar unit on the northern wall of the courtyard. On the first of April 1945, this outpost was manned by three remaining soldiers – the rest of the squad, seeing the end only a few days, had deserted. The Americans, misreckoning it as a massive resistance point, ordered up heavy artillery. The very first shell perforated the seven-hundred-year-old roof of the chapel and passed through a wooden trapdoor to the crypt, exploding beneath the level of the stone floor…And after six weeks spent removing rubble – and segregating lovingly anything that might prove useful if ever the good Lord, having attended to more urgent matters such as Berlin and the cathedral of Cologne, got around to the painstaking job of piecing back together their beloved St. Anselm’s chapel – the parishioners were attending divine services again, sitting on makeshift benches, and using a borrowed table from the castle as an alter.”

Presumably, Stained Glass and the novels of Bill Buckley should be an extension of his outright Conservative views. This is not so. Though full of quips about Soviet policy (‘The Five-Year Plan will have to be postponed, once again’) the second Blackford Oakes novel is more an investigation of politics post-1945. Not only are readers privy to what covert intelligence operatives and Washington officers were probably thinking – and undoubtedly doing – but also the complexity of these decisions:

“‘What we cannot know is exactly when or how the Soviets would move. We know what they are in a position to do on the ground. We’re fighting a war in Korea, where we’ve concentrated practically everything we have. We all but demobilized the army during the panic to get home after the war. We wrote a treaty that forbade West German participation in a joint military command. The French economy is on the floor, and the French military is completely absorbed all to hell and gone, off in Indochina. The British are exhausted, and engaged in full-time decolonization. We put up a good front about NATO, and Ike made some nice speeches over here but here are the facts. The Russians have three million men on their western border, comprising one hundred and seventy-five divisions facing west; East Europe has sixty to seventy divisions under arms. We have ten divisions in West Germany – most of them under strength, backed by commitments for twenty divisions. The Russians presence in Korea is negligible. So they have available to fight in Europe the whole of their military machine.'”


Published in 1978, the 1980 paperback edition of Stained Glass would win the National Book Award for Mystery. Buckley would continue ‘Blackford Oakes’ (which started with Saving the Queen in 1967) until 2005, the year before his death. The following novels, predictably, confront further Cold War exigencies that affected the American public and policy makers. While a committed Conservative, the writer famously lambasted the War on Drugs and famously derided fellow Right-leaning thinkers like Ayn Rand.

Having also read Buckley’s memoir Overdrive, it is easy to see why readers have a divided literary preference. For this reviewer, however, the consensus remains unanswerable, so my only contribution is to edify.


‘Why I Buy’ – Rami Gabriel (Authors in Conversation)


Why I Buy is a study of the psychological impulses that drive American consumer society. Author Dr. Rami Gabriel embraces a diverse but certainly not disparate set of sources, including economic and consumer studies, to structure his thesis concerning latent impulse-driving signs in advertising, and contrasting societies. While the book could be used as a textbook, Gabriel also sees Why I Buy as a readable and much needed  “analysis of self, taste, and consumer society in America”. While certainly not an idle read, Why I Buy has the ability to stir up debate amongst parties interested in domestic as well as international consumer society – and their viable alternatives. Living with Literature was fortunate enough to sit down with the author and Columbia College Chicago professor of Psychology. This is the first entry in the Authors in Conversation interview series:


Rami, thanks for being our inaugural interview in Living with Literature’s Authors in Conversation series. Your book ‘Why I Buy’ is a psychological examination of American consumer society and, as the title suggests, what forces drive consumption. Explain a bit about your attraction to this thesis and how it came to be


Rami Gabriel— Thank you. Very happy to take part. Why I Buy is the culmination of many years of studying consumer society in America and, being a psychologist, the psychological roots of American consumerism. I look at what factors and characteristics drive consumers; what really makes these impulses ‘normal’. To achieve this, I used consumer studies, economics, philosophy, as well as advertising and semiotics; or the study of signs.


How is this colossal amount of research amalgamated in the text?


Rami Gabriel— I start by covering the history of the Self in America as well as other pertinent Western traditions. Then we transfer into the thesis: the individualist nature, the Cartesian dualist, and the expressionist self in American consumer society. These help to structure the widely evident idea that consumers have a need for products to help define their identity. I use semiology in advertising to establish the link between the products and personal, driving impulses.


Do you use other societies as a comparison?


Rami Gabriel–Yes, in the latter part of the book I incorporate consumerist France and a Middle Eastern country, namely Egypt.  


Did you know beforehand that France and Egypt would be the contrasting examples?


Rami Gabriel–I wanted a Western European country as well as a cultural hub in the Middle East. For example, France’s consumer society is older than the American counterpart. Yet they are different. What we are seeing in American consumer society is not simply the natural route of such a society, it is historical. And being half-Egyptian, it was easy to navigate that society and understand what the cultural beacon of the Middle East is presenting in way of advertising.


To probe deeper, in the history portion of Why I Buy, it is understood that the major conflict of 20th and 21st century liberalism is universal social liberation while maintaining a cohesive society. Each liberal victory is determined by the triumph of a social movement. Mentioned in the book, the majority of people consume information from the media. Can it be presumed, then, that the general populous has less autonomy over social change than the media does?


Rami Gabriel— I think that disregards history. History is, of course, portrayed the way people would like it to be portrayed. However, the ideas of liberalism are derived from Lockean ideals and John Stuart Mill’s idea of property. as well the social body and unity from the French Revolution. Even the U.S. Constitution invokes grand liberal ideas of equality. These lingering movements encourage current trends. Yet these trends are deeply woven in the region of origin. For example, the idea of transporting Western democracy to the Middle East: even if a majority of people may want democracy, our idea of Democracy – or the Republican format – ignores historically contingent factors and politically divisive figures.


Viewing this on a microlevel, I used to listen to the band Rage Against the Machine during my adolescence. They were signed, paradoxically, to a major label. How could I enjoy such angst-ridden, anti-authoritarian rhetoric in a time of relative domestic prosperity and without the slightest idea of how Western capitalism actually operated? It seems I was supporting the same people I – and the band – ostensibly rallied against.


Rami Gabriel–I think you overestimate the concern of major media companies. They care little what the content is, as long as it sells. And I guess the real moral question is with the band. On a major label, they had the ability and subsequently did sell millions of albums. There were rumors that the lead singer drove around in a BMW. A lot of people considered them “fake”. However, a lot of my friends – who are lifelong activists – loved and still love the band. The rumors they hear are that the lead singer lived and fought with the Zapatistas. They also, I remember, put a bunch of socialist reading material in the album liner notes. Personally, I chose to like them because it presented a pathway towards that liberal, Howard Zinn presentation of history for the youth.


Do you have any recommendations for further reading on this subject.


Rami Gabriel–In the book I cite an awesome read called The Rebel Sell.


Continuing on, do you feel that Consumerism deterred the Black and Feminist

movements of the 60’s and  70’s?


Rami Gabriel–There is also a wonderful book by Lizabeth Cohen titled A Consumer’s Republic. She discusses Black economic practices in the New Deal and Civil Rights; specifically Black consortiums. Essentially, these consortiums were set up to keep Black money within the community. Jackson, Mississippi, – which has fallen on hard times – for example, used to be a bustling southern Black city. I haven’t followed the Feminist movement as closely. In general, I am weary of identity politics, it is of course important for groups on the margins of power to attain certain political milestones. However, narrow identity movements also have the effect of diffusing larger forms of unity. One party within the culture gets ignored in lieu of the other. While the objectives are admirable, I see more progress in the a functional economic model like that of the consortiums.


In Why I Buy you also advocate art as a bonding catharsis to and for consumer society. You mention British magazine ‘The Wire’ as an example. It made me think of Weimar Art. Could you elaborate on this and provide more examples from history?


Rami Gabriel–I believe the expressionist nature of art – the artist expressing him or herself – has led to a neglect of the communal production and consumption process of art. Art can be cathartic, with the ability to express the quotidian joys, as well as communal ones. These are human needs. Communal expression can be explicitly political like the TV show The Wire or subtly culturally political, like my hobby of playing classical Arab music. Our actions in the public sphere bring together different – sometimes diametrically opposite and opposing – cultures. This is also evident when I play Mississippi country Blues, for example. We can reinvigorate realities, like the way we like to hear sound in the lineage of Black sharecroppers in American musical history. The more we focus on the artist as a genius, however, the more we lose what is really going on – namely, the human element of sharing.


I know you are a voracious reader; are there any narratives that inspired Why I Buy?



Rami Gabriel–There is an Egyptian book titled Zaat. That story was a lot of fun because it follows a female bureaucrat who works in some cultural ministry in Cairo. It’s very comical and not as neurotic as some American stuff. I wanted to enjoy Delillo’s White Noise, but I didn’t. My reading is usually classical, or if I’m going to read Western literature, it will be V.S. Naipaul. Another book that was a little bit boring, but interesting nonetheless, was Au Bonheur des Dames by Emile Zola. It describes the first shopping center in Paris.


What are some of your favorite books? Fiction and non-fiction.


Rami Gabriel— Oh geez, my minor was in Comparative Literature…so this could take a while.


You could also answer books that got you into Psychology.


Rami Gabriel— I can do that more briefly. I got the Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud when I was 13 or 14. I found it very moving since I was a young musician and interested in how the mind works. What also moved me about the book was that people can have grand ideas and explain how things function analytically; an explanation that even little actions can have grand consequences. There is also, of course, the figure of Freud himself. He was a classically educated arch-intellectual who was also a humanist, scientist, and historian. On top of this, he configured his writings in the 19th-century tradition of systems, which makes for compelling theories.


Interpretation of Dreams seems like an appropriate choice for a psychologist, Anything else?


Rami Gabriel—As a young man, I really enjoyed Burroughs Naked Lunch. Georges Bataille, Andre Breton’s Nadja, all of Kafka. The group of artists I used to run with were really into demented and experimental literature. A lot of poetry, also, especially German. I loved Nietzsche. There was a time when I couldn’t stop reading him. Freud never labeled himself a Nietzschian, but he was undoubtedly aware of him.


Lastly, are you working on anything new?


Rami Gabriel—Yes, a few things. A technical article about social intelligence at the academic journal New ideas in Psychology. I am also working on an academic book with my colleague Steve Asma titled Evolution of the Mind: The Role of Affect in Culture and Cognition. My own new book manuscript will be an easier read, it follows the different types of psychology in contemporary culture. It will examine pop psychology, academic psychology, and the effect of drug use and therapy on the psyche. This book is called ‘The Uses of Psychology’. Also, I just wrote a review of a book on the self for a great political magazine called In these Times. Lastly, just finished recording a new album of original compositions called Oud blues & New traditions under an Illinois arts council grant. See ramigabriel.wordpress.com.


Sounds like you have work cut out for you. Thanks for sitting down with us, Rami. Looking forward to more reading.