The death of Borders and the fine art of browsing through bookstores

I felt like crying when I read that Borders planned to liquidate its inventory and close its remaining stores.

I'm old enough to remember the days when all you had were tiny Walden's and B. Dalton stores at the mall that hardly carried anything. So the past few decades have been a golden age for those of us who love to browse in bookstores, and it seems to be ending. (I loved record stores too, but those are even longer gone.)

I still remember my first visit to a book superstore - I was in high school and it was the Barnes & Noble at Downtown Crossing in Boston. I'm not even sure if it's still there but at the time, it had three floors including used books in the basement. I bought a used paperback copy of Frank Herbert's novel Dune, which I loved.

Since then, I've spent countless hours at Borders and Barnes & Noble. Sometimes it's my main social activity for the weekend. I'm beyond the age where I want to spend Sunday afternoon trying on clothes at the mall or seeing the latest new release at the multiplex. (Which probably doesn't interest me anyway.)

And I almost always buy something. I'm not one of those people who thumbs through a book to see whether I'd like it and then orders it from Amazon. In the past few years, I've also built up my collection of Broadway cast recordings at Borders. (Granted, I used discount coupons a lot but I spent money.)

Yes, there are a couple of independent bookstores near me but they're small and it's difficult to find parking. There's not much room for sitting, not much to look through, no place to get an iced tea. And I feel awkward if I leave without buying anything. The two Barnes & Noble stores are farther away.

So I'll probably just use Amazon more, which is a shame. I didn't leave bookstores - they left me.

A 21st-century Sherlock Holmes

I love a good mystery - they were my favorite books as a kid. I was a big Sherlock Holmes fan and yes, I bought a deerstalker on my first trip to London. (I think I even wore it in public once or twice.)

So I'm looking forward to Sherlock, the three-part British series that begins tonight on PBS. The video makes it look a little more CSI than I'd like but that's okay. It's a modern-day Holmes and I'm not a purist for a Victorian setting.

Benedict Cumberbatch plays Sherlock Holmes. I don't know much about him although he was in Atonement, which I did see. And Martin Freeman, who was very funny as Tim in the original (and superior IMHO) British version of The Office, is Dr. John Watson.

While the setting is contemporary there's at least one connection to the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories that, sadly, is as plausible today as it was in the 1880s. Watson has recently returned from Army service in Afghanistan.

And he's still chronicling his adventures with the world's most famous consulting detective - on his blog.

For devoted Sherlockians, there'll be a Twitter event from 9 to 10:30 p.m., with mystery experts Scott Monty from The Baker Street Blog, Leslie Klinger, author of The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes, and Andrew Gulli, editor of The Strand magazine. Just follow the hashtag #sherlock_pbs.

Patti LuPone: A Memoir

People write memoirs to talk about their difficult childhoods, tout their accomplishments, describe the obstacles they've overcome in life. I think Patti LuPone wrote Patti LuPone: A Memoir to settle some scores.

The book was penned "with" Digby Diehl, who's worked on several celebrity autobiographies. But I've listened to a few lengthy interviews with LuPone and the tone is all hers. If you're interested in theatre, it's a brisk and entertaining read.

LuPone makes it clear that she hasn't had it easy - from the time she put on tap shoes to make her stage debut at age 4 in Northport, Long Island, in 1953 to winning her second Tony, for Best Actress in a Musical for Gypsy, in 2008.

It's all interesting, from being part of the first class in the Juilliard School's Drama Division, run by the imperious John Houseman, crisscrossing the country with The Acting Company, her long relationship with Kevin Kline, her triumph in Evita, the epic battle with Andrew Lloyd Webber during Sunset Boulevard, and her most recent Broadway runs.

Frankly, I was kind of shocked that she even got cast in Evita. LuPone admits that she was vocally unprepared for the role. Luckily, a member of the chorus helped her with her technique so she could actually sing it. Yikes!

You get a sense from the memoir of the vagabond life of a performer, especially one who's focused her career on the stage. But I have to say, despite having spent her entire adult life as an actress, she hasn't seemed to enjoy it very much.

With the exception of Sweeney Todd and Gypsy, it appears that LuPone has had to put up with incompetent directors, boorish costars or devious producers just about every time she's been on stage, on TV or in a movie.

Now, I love LuPone as a performer - I was a big fan of the TV series Life Goes On, which is where I became aware of her. And seeing her in Gypsy - first at Encores and then on Broadway - was unforgettable. I also got her autograph at the stage door at City Center, so she gets high marks for that.

But I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. She comes across as loyal to her friends and brutal toward anyone who rubs her the wrong way, anyone she feels has slighted her. Sometimes, it's probably justified. But other times, I don't know.

For example, John Berry, director of The Baker's Wife: "was an obnoxious human being with absolutely revolting personal hygiene." As for Bill Smitrovich, who played her husband in Life Goes On: "I faced a seven-year sentence with a thoroughly distasteful man."

Still, there are plenty of people she adores, including Marian Seldes, her Juilliard teacher, who "had an unfailing confidence in my ability. She was also my biggest defender." And Evita costar Mandy Patinkin "is an angel for me; he was heaven-sent. I will love him forever." She also has nice things to say about her husband and son.

Amid all the kvetching (and there's a lot of it) LuPone's love for the theatre, for Broadway, does come through. She's very much taken with the traditions, the rituals of the stage. I like this quote: "What is theatre if it doesn't incite, doesn't move, doesn't change us in some way?"

But here's the most interesting thing I learned from reading her memoir:

When I saw Gypsy at Encores in 2007, Marian Seldes was sitting across the aisle from me. At intermission, I told her how much I'd enjoyed seeing her on Broadway in Deuce.

We talked for a moment about LuPone. Like me, Miss Seldes was enthralled with her performance. At the time, I thought it was simply one actress admiring the work of another. I didn't realize that it was a beloved teacher watching her former student in the role of a lifetime.

Now, I know the rest of the story.

Allen Ginsberg, Howl and me

I had two very brief encounters with Allen Ginsberg, so I'm really looking forward to seeing James Franco portray the Beat Generation poet in the movie Howl.

Despite the signature and address on the title page, that's not Ginsberg's personal copy of Howl, it's mine. I interviewed him, over the phone, in 1989, in advance of a lecture at Syracuse University.

I don't remember anything about it except that I was nervous and he was very easy to talk to, apologizing for ending our conversation because the composer Philip Glass had arrived and they were going to make some music.

Afterward, I went to Ginsburg's lecture and introduced myself. He autographed the copy of Howl that I'd bought at the City Lights bookstore in San Francisco and even dated it, which was neat.

He asked me to send him a copy of my article and for some reason, I told him to just write his address in the book. I thought it would be a street address, so I was a little disappointed when it turned out to be a post office box.

Don't film The Catcher in the Rye

With the death Thursday of J.D. Salinger, speculation is starting over whether there'll finally be a film version of his 1951 novel The Catcher in the Rye.

It's been a long time since I've read the book, so I don't have an opinion on whether it's possible to make a good movie. But I do have sympathy for Salinger's explanation as to why he never sold the film rights.

In a 1957 letter, Salinger wrote that "for me, the weight of the book is in the narrator's voice." He says that any attempt to translate Holden Caulfield's inner thoughts into dialogue would sound labored.

Odds are at some point a movie will be made, and I will find that sad. I'll be sad not solely because it goes against Salinger's wishes but because it takes away some of the imagination and discovery involved in reading the book.

My case in point is Harry Potter.

I started reading J.K. Rowling's books long before the first movie came out. I formed my sense of what the characters were like from their description on the printed page. No one has to do that now. We know what Harry, Hermoine and Ron look and sound like.

Yes, I've enjoyed the movies but not nearly as much as the books. They're just not as rich or absorbing. Perhaps the movies are enticing children to start reading the series, and that's a good thing but it won't be the same.

For 59 years Holden Caulfield, that symbol of teenage rebellion, has lived solely in the imagination of readers of The Catcher in the Rye. It would be nice if we could just leave him there.

Joe Papp on the spiritual life of the city

I'm in the middle of reading Free For All by Kenneth Turan, a terrific oral history of Joe Papp, the founder of the New York Shakespeare Festival and the Public Theater.

Turan began the project years ago as a collaboration with Papp, who died in 1991, so there are lots of quotes from him and people who knew him well. I'm clearly getting a sense of how stubborn and obnoxious Papp could be at times.

But what also comes through loud and clear is his devotion, almost with a religious fervor, to the idea that the arts, especially theatre, should be available to everyone, accessible to everyone, that they were an integral part of everyday life in New York City.

And he wasn't at all apologetic about it. Although he was prone to hyperbole: "I always used to say that Shakespeare should be as important as garbage collection."

He also said, proudly, that the Public Theater was the only institution of its size in the city that was started from the bottom by a poor boy and worked its way up. "All the other major, established institutions were started by big money."

I love this quote from Papp, which appears on page 237:

"Whenever I used to ask for money, they'd always raise the question: "The city has only $50,000 and there are kids starving to death and you're putting on Shakespeare. What's more important? What would you do?''

"Oh, shut up with that, already," I'd say. "That's a ridiculous question. In the first place, the city has more than $50,000. And, certainly, the city wastes millions and millions of dollars on things that are not important.

"In the general scale of things, certainly it's important to take care of basic necessities, to take care of the ill and the homeless, to feed children. But part of the spiritual life of the city is its art, its plays, so you are creating a false distinction.''

When Joe Papp fired Kevin Spacey

Yesterday I picked up a copy of Free for All, by Kenneth Turan, an oral history of Joseph Papp and New York's Public Theater. I've just started thumbing through it but so far, it looks pretty interesting.

I first heard Papp's name when I was a teenager. I remember watching a play from the New York Shakespeare Festival on TV and being enthralled by it. I'm fairly certain it was this production of Much Ado About Nothing that aired on CBS in 1972.

Last fall, I made my first visit to the Public, for Stephen Sondeim's Road Show. I'll admit that Sondheim wasn't the only draw. I also wanted to see the place where landmark musicals like Hair and A Chorus Line were nurtured.

And yes, there was one other important reason - Kevin Spacey worked there briefly, after dropping out of Juilliard. (There's a Kevin Spacey connection to everything!)

I don't think this story is in the book but I've heard Kevin tell it many times in interviews and it's a nice one.

Here's an account that appeared in the Oct. 24, 1999 issue of Parade magazine:

"I had no prospects, no agent, no money, nothing. Then I got an audition for the New York Shakespeare Festival in the Park by basically browbeating the casting office. I played a messenger with, like, six lines in Henry IV, Part One. It was my first job in New York as a professional actor, and it was pretty exciting, but after that I just couldn't get any acting work.

"I was working as a hat-check guy in a restaurant when I decided to see Joe Papp for a job." [Papp was the influential founder and director of the New York Shakespeare Festival. He gave Spacey a job as office help.]

"While working there, I got cast as the lead in an off-off Broadway play, The Robbers, and got my first New York review - in the Village Voice. It was extremely complimentary, because they compared me to both Marlon Brando and Karl Malden in the same sentence, so for weeks my friends called me 'Marlon Malden.'

"Joe Papp showed up at the play one night and fired me the next day. I was stunned, because it was paying my rent. Joe said, ‘I saw an actor last night onstage, and you've become too comfortable here.’ He did me the greatest favor in the world by literally shoving me out the door.

"Four months later, Joe was in the opening-night audience of my first Broadway play."

Two from the Banned Books shelf

It's Banned Books Week, that time of year when the American Library Association draws attention to censorship and promotes the freedom to read. The first I'm against and the second I heartily endorse! (Thanks to Amanda at The Zen Leaf for alerting me.)

According to the ALA, 513 challenges were reported to the Office of Intellectual Freedom in 2008.

The 10 most "controversial" (scare quotes!) titles include two that I've read: Khaled Hosseini's much-praised The Kite Runner, about his native Afghanistan; and the children's book Uncle Bobby's Wedding, by Sarah S. Brannen, about two male guinea pigs who tie the knot.

The Kite Runner made the list because it contains offensive language, it's sexually explicit and "unsuited to age group." I don't quite understand that last part because as far as I know, the novel's "age group" is adults. This isn't something a young child would be interested in at all.

While there is a scene of sexual violence, it's not done in a titillating way and it's absolutely essential to the story. And I don't remember an excessive amount of profanity.

This is an absorbing, thoughtful novel that a teenager could definitely handle. It's a window into a country and a culture in which Americans ought to have a great deal of interest. It's also an immigrant story, as the main character and his family struggle to make new lives for themselves in the United States.

Uncle Bobby's Wedding made the list because it's "unsuited to age group and homosexuality." I first heard about it in 2008, when Colorado librarian Jamie LaRue wrote about a challenge from a patron.

This is a sweet, beautifully illustrated story about a little girl gerbil named Chloe who's afraid of not being able to spend as much time with her favorite uncle once he gets married.

I can't imagine anyone possibly being offended unless they have a heart of stone. It's about the importance of family and the vocabulary seems totally appropriate for the intended age group. The love between Bobby and Jamie (the two male gerbils) is presented matter-of-factly. There's no big discussion about it.

What offends me are people who find books with gay and lesbian characters offensive, as if it's something we can't talk about "in front of the children." It's just as demeaning and bigoted as banning books with black, Latino or Jewish characters.

Besides, "the children" may already have a classmate with a gay or lesbian parent or family member. Those kids have the right to find books about their families on the shelves, too.

Do parents have a right to pick their children's library books? Absolutely. Do they have a right to pick the library books for other people's children? Absolutely not.

Doctorow on Ragtime, the musical

The Broadway revival of Ragtime will be my first novel to movie to musical adaptation!

I loved the 1975 novel but I don't remember too much about the 1981 movie by Milos Forman, other than it was James Cagney's last film role.

I vaguely recall that E.L. Doctorow didn't like the movie of his novel so I was curious how he felt about the musical, which features a book by Terrence McNally and a score by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens.

Apparently, he likes it. I found an old interview from the San Francisco Chronicle in which he said that he was "very fond of the musical." (And the reporter confirms my suspicion that Doctorow is not a fan of the movie.)

The musical, he believes, "shows honor and devotion to the book. I was not a collaborator, but I was more than an observer. I fed them notes and think I was fairly useful to them. They were responsive to me.''

Having been promised approval rights over the creative team, been vigilant during the rehearsal process and made a point of seeing new musicals that have since opened, he says he's convinced "it verges on being an American opera. The piece really shines. Most of what you see (in other musicals) is so thin. Or hokey. Or overwrought.''

Now I know! I'm thinking it would be interesting to read the novel again, or at least watch the movie, but maybe I'll wait until after I see the musical, which begins previews Oct. 23 at the Neil Simon Theatre.

Assigned versus unassigned reading

I've always believed in the joy of reading whatever I want, so I was very interested in this New York Times story yesterday about teaching literature. The question is: Should everyone in the class read the same book or should students choose their own books?

Times reporter Motoko Rich focuses on a middle school teacher in Jonesboro, Ga. Last fall instead of assigning To Kill a Mockingbird, Lorrie McNeill let her seventh- and eighth-grade students pick out their own books.

Some chose challenging titles but if they didn't, McNeill nudged them in that direction. A seventh-grader who started with R&B singer Chaka Khan's memoir moved on to Maya Angelou's autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings and Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Which, actually, is a very cool transition.

(I remember when I was in high school we had to pick a science fiction novel to read, a genre I still don't like very much, and I picked Planet of the Apes.)

The article does a good job of exploring all sides of the issue and of course, it's not an either-or situation. You can assign some books and let students choose others. And there are good points to be made for all sides.

Obviously, the best way to encourage a love of reading is to let kids read what they love. The easiest way to turn them off is to force-feed them a book about which they have absolutely no interest. Reading becomes a chore instead of a pleasure.

(I still have nightmares about trudging through The Brothers Karamazov in high school. Or was it Crime and Punishment? I can't remember. But I think it permanently turned me off from all Russian literature.)

On the other hand, there is something to be said for everyone being on the same page. It fosters discussion and gets students thinking. I have to admit, even though I read a lot most of the classic works of literature I've read were assigned to me when I was in school.

But there was one quote that struck me as kind of sad. Before beginning the project O'Neill felt compelled to warn her very supportive principal: "I am not sure how it’s going to pan out on the standardized tests.”

Even though it's not exactly a revelation that schools today teach to test, statements like that still make me cringe.

Getting carded at the NYPL

I don't buy a lot of souvenirs when I go to New York. I've got my theatre tickets and my Playbills and I've bought a few Broadway show magnets. But last month I came home with a great one that didn't cost me anything.

The first time I went to the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts it was on a very rainy afternoon, so I decided to take advantage of some free Internet access. All I had to do was show my out-of-state driver's license and I got to use a computer.

Well, that was in May 2008. When I went back last month to see the Katharine Hepburn exhibit, the computers across from the circulation desk had been moved to another room.

I was told that while I could still use one, I'd have get a library card. I explained that I didn't live in New York City (although I did once live in New York State.) The helpful person at the circulation desk said no problem, I could get a library card anyway.

Really? Well, as a lifelong library fan and book lover, this was pretty thrilling. I didn't hesitate for a second. I don't think I've been so excited since I got my first library card, back when I was in the second grade.

So I filled out the requisite paperwork, which wasn't too difficult, and within a matter of minutes I had my very own New York Public Library card, entitling me to borrow materials from all NYPL branch libraries and from the Brooklyn Public Library.

Okay, I probably won't be borrowing any books but as you can see, it's a pretty nifty looking card and you know I'll be keeping it in my wallet. It's probably the closest I'll ever get to living in New York City.

By the way, if you're visiting New York, the main library, at 5th Avenue and 42nd Street, adjacent to Bryant Park, with the two imposing stone lions in front, is a beautiful building. And it has a great gift shop.

It's Ragtime again on Broadway

Eighteen months ago I wrote a blog post titled "The best musicals I've never seen,'' about scores I love listening to even though I've never seen the shows that they're from.

Well, this fall I'll be able to cross one of those off my list because Ragtime is coming back to Broadway and I'm pretty darn excited! It's kind of like an early Fourth of July present.

The revival begins previews Oct. 23 at the Neil Simon Theatre and opens Nov. 15. (Here's Vance's review of the production at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, although there will be cast changes.)

I've always enjoyed stories that mix real-life and fictional characters. And E.L. Doctorow's 1975 novel Ragtime does a wonderful job intertwining the lives of three New York families - Jewish immigrants, African-Americans and WASPS - with historical figures from the first two decades of the twentieth century.

I've seen the 1981 movie but until I started to become a regular theatergoer I didn't even know there was a musical version of Ragtime. I've since listened to the Tony-winning score by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty and I love the way they've translated Doctorow's story into song.

The original Broadway production of Ragtime opened on Jan. 18, 1998 and closed two years later. In the cast was an adorable little Lea Michele - before she grew up to be in Spring Awakening.

A New England reading list

Hey, it's almost summer - time for a reading list! Thanks to my friend Dan at Media Nation for pointing me to The Boston Globe's interactive list of the 100 Essential New England Books (evah, as Dan says).

Some of these seem a little too recent to be on a list of the 100 essential anything and others have a tenuous connection to the region. (I guess if the author is from New England or went to school here, that counts.)

I mean, I know Dan Brown grew up in New Hampshire and his protagonist teaches at Harvard but there's really nothing very New Englandish about The Da Vinci Code! Others seem suspiciously more about New York than Boston. (Catcher in the Rye?)

The most-read books, according to votes from readers, are, not surprisingly, a pair of children's classics: Make Way for Ducklings and Charlotte's Web. I'm glad to see some love for one of my childhood favorites, too: Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel.

There are lots of books on the list I've read and loved, lots I've been meaning to read. I'm happy Our Town is included. I'll be seeing David Cromer's acclaimed production next month at the Barrow Street Theatre in New York. (Kind of a neat synergy when you think about it: a Chicagoan's take on small-town New Hampshire comes to New York.)

The book on the list that most people want to read: David McCullough's John Adams. The Globe's number-one book is one I'm embarrassed to admit I've never read: Moby-Dick. Although I think I have a copy - somewhere.

The family that writes together

During my trip to Borders today I picked up a copy of Billie Letts' latest novel, Made in the U.S.A., which just came out in paperback.

(I said on Twitter that 90 percent of the cds and dvds are gone. I think it's more like 99 percent. Fewer reasons to keep my Borders Visa. I hope they can hold on because I don't like buying online. I enjoy leaving my apartment and browsing in an actual bricks-and-morter store. Sigh.)

Anyway, this is the book that Letts dedicated to her late husband, Dennis Letts, whom she called "my Broadway star." Dennis Letts played the role of family patriarch Beverly Weston on Broadway in son Tracy's Pulitzer and Tony-winning August: Osage County until shortly before he passed away, in February 2008.

Made in the U.S.A. tells the story of 15-year-old girl and her 11-year-old brother in Spearfish, South Dakota, who embark on a journey in search of their father after their guardian falls dead in a Wal-Mart. (Oddly, a Wal-Mart also plays a role in one of Letts' previous novels, Where the Heart Is. Hmmm.)

The paperback edition has an interview with the author and Letts is asked whether there are parallels between her novels and her son's plays. Here's what she had to say:

"Yes, in that we tend to write about nontraditional families. In his first two plays I would tease and tell him that the characters in his work ended up naked or dead. (Not too much of a stretch, really.) But in his last three plays, he's strayed away from violence and carnage. Now it seems I've begun working in a darker vein than he is."

I have thoughts, too!

It's been over a year now since I started writing Gratuitous Violins and I'm still waiting, patiently, for a publisher to stumble upon it and offer me a book deal. Sigh.

Until then, I'll live vicariously through Julie Powell, who wrote a blog about working her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It became a bestselling book and now, a movie, Julie & Julia, starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep in the title roles.

Here's the trailer. It opens Aug. 7, and I can't wait! Meryl Streep is pretty amazing.

American Wife

I wouldn't normally pick up a biography of Laura Bush, but the thinly veiled fictional account of the former first lady that Curtis Sittenfeld has constructed in American Wife sure is fun, in a gossipy kind of way.

In fact, this is one of the most absorbing novels I've read in awhile and I read it slowly, so I could savor all 555 pages.

Alice Lindgren, Sittenfeld's Laura Bush stand-in, is a sweet, bookish, middle-class girl from a small town who grows up to be a school librarian and a Democrat. (Just like the Laura Bush!) She marries Charlie Blackwell, the ne'er-do-well son of a wealthy Republican family who turns his life around and follows his father into politics. (Just like George Bush!)

I'd reveal more of the plot, but if you know anything about George and Laura Bush, and you've been paying attention to the news over the last decade, you can figure it out. It's not subtle.

The veiled part is that most of this occurs in Wisconsin, not Texas. They have one daughter, not two. And Charlie goes to Princeton, not Yale. Clever, huh!

Some of the things that happen to Alice happened to Laura Bush but most of it comes from Sittenfeld's imagination. And she's created a sympathetic character: Alice is thoughtful and likeable. As for Charlie and the rest of the Blackwells, not so much. They mostly come off like snooty, clueless rich people.

Sittenfeld makes Alice a compelling, if passive, protagonist. I was struck by how uneasy she seems with her own life, how little control she's had over the events that have defined her, the amount of time she spends questioning decisions she's made. It's kind of sad but very human, I guess.

And Alice is so quiet and unassuming I couldn't figure out what she saw in Charlie, who drinks too much and is a bit of an insensitive lout. I guess he's also fun and kind of charming at times. They do have some pretty steamy sex scenes. But he seems the opposite of everything she is, of everything she believes in. They really do come from two different worlds.

In return for marrying him, Alice is thrust into this unfamiliar life of immense wealth and privilege, of snobby country clubs and private schools and summer homes. I don't think she ever really feels a part of it. She's always trying to do little good deeds on the side to somehow make up for the privileges.

Then, when Charlie is elected to public office and Alice finds herself in the glare of the spotlight, she feels embarrassed by the attention and uncomfortable with the scrutiny. In that sense, I wonder if she's like a lot of women (and probably some men) who are married to politicians.

I'm sure on some level, Alice enjoys her life, or at least she's made peace with it, even though she doesn't seem particularly happy. I couldn't help but wonder whether the real Laura Bush has felt the same uneasiness, which I guess is part of the book's attraction.

Intellectually, I know Sittenfeld isn't really describing the life and innermost thoughts of Laura Bush. Especially in the last section, I think Alice acts in a way that Laura never would. I'm also not convinced that the Bushes disagree as much politically as Alice and Charlie do. I think Alice is more liberal than Laura.

But emotionally, in a way that sometimes made me feel uncomfortable, like I had no business peering into this woman's subconscious, I did wonder just how close Sittenfeld had gotten to the truth.

Exodus - the musical

Thanks to Kevin at Theatre Aficionado at Large I've been browsing through a very cool collection of poster art from Broadway musicals.

I found one for the very short-lived musical Ari, based on the bestselling novel Exodus, by Leon Uris, about the founding of the State of Israel. (The Playbill is from eBay.)

I never knew there was a musical version of Exodus until I read Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical Follies, by Ted Chapin, who mentions it briefly. With Passover starting tonight, what better show to write about!

Uris adapted his 1958 novel for the stage and wrote the lyrics. The music was composed by Walt Smith, about whom I haven't been able to find anything. Perhaps this was his first and only foray into musical theatre.

The musical takes place in Cyprus in 1947, so apparently it only covers the first part of the book, when Jewish refugees are trying to break the British blockade and reach Palestine.

In the show's cast were David Cryer as the handsome and fearless sabra Ari Ben Canaan, and Constance Towers as his love interest, the American Kitty Fremont.

(Their roles were played by Paul Newman and Eva Marie Saint in the 1960 movie version of Exodus. Too bad they couldn't have gotten Jill Haworth, who was a young Jewish refugee in the movie and grew up to be Broadway's original Sally Bowles in Cabaret.)

After a tryout in Washington, D.C., Broadway previews began on Jan. 6, 1971, at the gorgeous Mark Hellinger Theatre, now the Times Square Church, which, thanks to Kevin, I had the great fortune to tour last fall. Ari opened on Jan. 15 and closed on Jan. 30.

Some musicals were just not meant to be, I guess.

This is hard to believe but the show's producers, Leonard Goldberg and Ken Gaston, had even worse luck with their next Broadway musical, Heathen!, set in Hawaii in 1819 and 1972. After six previews at the Billy Rose Theatre, the show opened - and closed - on May 21, 1972.

Now that there's a native of the Aloha State in the White House, maybe it's time for a revival!

Arthur Laurents tells all

This is going on my must-read list. I didn't even know Arthur Laurents was writing a memoir.

Mainly on Directing: Gypsy, West Side Story and other Musicals will be published this month, coinciding nicely with Laurents' revival of West Side Story, which opens at Broadway's Palace Theatre on March 19.

Longtime Connecticut arts writer Frank Rizzo, who blogs for the Hartford Courant at Behind the Curtain, has read an advance copy. He says the 90-year-old Laurents pulls no punches.

"While the "mainly" part is full of insights and history, it's the not-so-mainly parts I loved, where he went off-topic and shared some juicy, what-the-hell, behind-the-curtain tales (and settling a few scores, setting the record straight along the way)." Plus, Rizzo says there are some great Patti LuPone stories.

Rizzo says the book will be published March 16 but every other source I checked seems to peg the release date at March 10. In either case, I'm looking forward to it.

Happy birthday Dr. Seuss!

I noticed that the Google homepage has a special Dr. Seuss theme in honor of the birthday of Theodor Seuss Geisel, who was born on March 2, 1904, and would have been 105 years old today.

Who doesn't love Dr. Seuss, right? So of course I want to chime in with my own birthday wishes.

The first book I ever remember owning was I Wish that I Had Duck Feet, published in 1965, which started me off on a life of book collecting. It was written by Geisel under the pen name Theo LeSieg. (Geisel spelled backward.) Apparently, he used that name for books he wrote but didn't illustrate.

I don't remember the plot, but I found this summary: "A young boy weighs the pros and cons of possessing various animal appendages—such as a duck's feet, a deer's antlers, a whale's spout, an elephant's trunk, and a long, long tail — only to decide that he's better off just being himself."

The Random House site describes the story as "zany" and "insightful," two words that I think are just perfect for me. Okay, maybe I'm not that zany but I do try to be insightful.

After Geisel died in 1991 his widow, Audrey, licensed his books for the stage. As far as I can tell, there have been two musical adaptations of Dr. Seuss. (I'm still waiting for I Wish that I Had Duck Feet - The Musical.)

Seussical, with music by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens, featured characters from a number of the Dr. Seuss books. It ran on on Broadway from Nov. 1, 2000 to May 20, 2001.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas, with music and lyrics by Mel Marvin and Timothy Mason, was produced by The Old Globe Theatre in San Diego in 1998. There have been two holiday runs on Broadway: in 2006-07 and a strike-shortened one in 2007-08.

According to a story in Time magazine, Seussical was the second most-performed high school musical in 2007. Little Shop of Horrors was first. (The rest of the list includes Thoroughly Modern Millie, Beauty and the Beast, Disney's High School Musical, Grease, Fiddler on the Roof, Bye Bye Birdie, Oklahoma, Anything Goes, and Guys and Dolls.)

Her 'Broadway Star'

I was at a bookstore the other day browsing through the fiction and saw Made in the U.S.A. by Billie Letts. The dedication made me smile:
To Dennis, my "Broadway Star,"
who trusted the wonder of love

All I could think was awww, what a sweet tribute to her husband. Dennis Letts passed away one year ago this month. I can still picture him sitting at that desk in the opening scene of August: Osage County.

The last novel of Billie Letts' that I read was Where the Heart Is, and I really enjoyed it. I'm long overdue for a second. I think I'll put this one on my to-read list when the paperback comes out in May.