Frankly, My Dear, Just Eat the Damn Dog

When the hundred or so people at today's book talk at the Library of Virginia were asked how many had not seen the film "Gone with the Wind," one person raised her hand (and she was a graduate student in military history; go figure).

But when asked how many had not read the book of the same name, the number jumped to more like 25. I was not among them, thanks to a birthday gift from a long-ago boyfriend.

23/23
To my beloved Karen,
Margaret Mitchel would have wanted you to have this book on such a momentous occasion as do I.
Lovingly, Curt

The occasion really wasn't all that momentous; I was born on the 23rd and I was turning 23 (he was 30) and a hardback copy of a classic I'd never read was my reward for that.

I broke up with him eight months later, but not before reading the book. Twice. And I still smile when I see his inscription, in green ink no less.

Today's book talk centered on "Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind: A Bestseller's Odyssey from Atlanta to Hollywood" with co-authors Ellen Brown and John Wiley taking turns at the podium, talking about how this book about a book came to be.

Brown, who had not read GWTW before starting the project, began by telling the audience of the impact of the book when it was written in the thirties. It won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award and was nominated for a Nobel Prize. It was the best selling book in history up until that point.

Her point was the contrast between that recognition and the highbrow literary critics of the time who labeled it an overblown romance novel written by a housewife in an Atlanta apartment.

That housewife spent the rest of her life protecting her book like a child (she had none) and trying to avoid having her biography written. She was so busy with that that she never wrote another book.

Wiley spoke about Virginia's connections to the book, including Mitchell's point that most Civil War fiction up to that point had been set in Virginia and now it was Georgia's turn. She also wanted the story of Sherman's march told (maybe that fact will get the military history student to finally watch the film).

He was full of fun facts, like how GWTW spent 16 months on Richmond's local bestseller list, despite costing a whopping $3 during the height of the Depression.

At one point, the Richmond Public Library had a waiting list of 160 people wanting to check the book out (a former librarian in the audience confirmed this).

The film opened nationally in Atlanta in December 1939 but didn't reach RVA until February 2, 1940. It opened at the Loew's Theater (now part of CenterStage) and was subsequently re-released every seven years, always playing at the Loew's.

That changed in 1967 when GWTW played at the Westhampton Theater (where I saw it in 2000) and ran for an unbelievable 27 weeks, well into 1968. Wiley said that that was when a whole new generation (like himself) first discovered the movie.

One of Margaret Mitchell's nephews had come down from NOVA for the talk and brought with him memorabilia and photographs belonging to his famous aunt. Wiley also contributed from his immense GWTW collection, considered the largest.

Foreign-language copies of GWTW, souvenir programs, pictures of Clark Gable with Mitchell were fascinating visuals to go with what we had just heard. The black and white photo of the Peachtree Street house in which Mitchell grew up had a distinctly plantation-like look.

While the masses lined up to have their books autographed, I strolled over to the Positive Vibe Express and fell prey to the siren song of a chili dog. When it was ready and I was called, another lecture attendee waiting for her lunch spoke excitedly to me.

"Oh, good, you got a hotdog, too!" she said as if I'd done something major. "I was feeling a little guilty about ordering one."

"Why?" I asked. "I can easily eat two and I've even been teased for that. I only got one today."

"Well, they say they're bad for you, but I don't eat them that often. I feel better knowing you're having one, too."

I didn't have the heart to tell her I had also purchased a Pearl's Double Trouble cupcake (chocolate with chocolate icing) for after the chili dog. No need to lead her further astray than I already had.

Not on a momentous occasion like this.

Understanding the Odor of Sanctity

There are two ways I could justify combining lunch and a lecture.

When eating to supplement a history lesson, be certain that the food is regionally appropriate. When someone else has made gumbo on a frigid day, enjoy the fruits of their labor. We'll ignore the obvious: it was late and I was famished.

The Library of Virginia's new exhibit, Union or Secession: Virginians Decide, occasioned today's lecture, "Reaping the Whirlwind: Virginians on the Eve of War" by Elizabeth Varon.

The talk, like the exhibition, focuses on the difficulty the Commonwealth had in deciding with whom they would align themselves as the country was fracturing apart.

Given Virginia's border location, its emphasis on state allegiance and its history as the birthplace of so many history-makers, it became clear what a difficult decision it must have been for its residents to make. But the arrogance of the South is difficult to grasp.

Since I'm not a Southerner by birth, my interest in the subject is purely academic. Not so with many in the audience. One woman asked, "Did Lee have a death wish? How did he ever think he could beat the North, given the population and economic advantage they had?"

Another woman questioned whether the South wouldn't have won if Stonewall Jackson had lived. As if one man could have made a difference given all the factors involved. As Richmond spy Elizabeth van Lew put it, "Southerners are drunk on the odor of our own sanctity." Well said.

I was pleased to hear that after the lecture, a tour of the exhibit would be offered. While the Library of VA is the repository of so many official documents, it also collects personal documents and this exhibit combined both for a look at the period from all sides.

Because Virginia was so active in the slave trade, printed bills of receipt for enslaved persons were actually made at the time. Just fill in the particulars and you've sold a person. Chilling to see. I also learned that height determined price, so at 5'5", I would have been cheap. Karen, the bargain, so to speak.

A large poster soliciting men to fight began with "To Arms! To Arms! To Arms!" and ended with "Your state is in danger. Rally to her standard!" Hard to imagine wo/men being stirred to action by such a plea today.

I was fascinated to learn that in the run-up to secession, Virginia was quite busy laying claim to the Founding Fathers...just in case they should need the connections.

In 1858, the equestrienne statue of George Washington was erected in Capital Square to provide a visual reminder of the home boy. Shortly thereafter, James Monroe's remains were re-interred at Hollywood Cemetery (how could we let a Virginia President's bones rot in New York?).

The whole exhibit, part of the upcoming Sesquicentennial Observance of the Civil War, is definitely worth a visit, as much for the personal correspondence as for the enlarged official documents that set events in motion.

I came away with a new appreciation for what a difficult decision Virginia had to make. We had little in common with the rest of the south, having an extensive railroad system, far more industry and an economy where cotton was not king (wheat was). And yet...

By the time the tour ended, it was nearly 3:00 and I was starving. Luckily, Positive Vibe Express was still open (but just barely; the girl was sweeping the floor when I came in looking pitiful and asking if I could still eat) and I was delighted to hear that today's soup was chicken and sausage gumbo.

My steaming bowl of gumbo was full of okra, rice, sausage and chicken and couldn't have been any more perfect for this weather. It also brought home the point that Virginia's culture differed from other parts of the south, like Louisiana, where the West African influence was strong.

After licking my gumbo bowl clean, I walked back out through the exhibit one last time, past pictures of slave auction houses and maps of slave holding counties in Virginia.

It's all a lesson and I'm all about learning. And eating.

Ideas from the Great Depression

I don't know what lunch and a lecture cost back during the Great Depression, but today it was $2.22, not that that isn't a perfectly reasonable price given the current Great Recession (and don't tell me it's over).

Arriving early enough to have lunch before the lecture at the Library of Virginia, I noticed for the first time the "Please enjoy the patio today" signs and thought, why not? Around the corner at the Positive Vibe Express, nothing was grabbing my attention, but my server informed me, "We can make whatever you want." Well, okay then.

A request for a BLT on wheat yielded a large sandwich within moments, and brought one of the staffers out to find the source of the delicious smell. She admitted she hadn't had bacon in two years (just kill me now) and I offered my sympathy. But nothing could have prepared me for the price when she rang me up: $2.22. Excuse me? Isn't that less than a drink usually costs?

The little patio on the 9th Street side had a couple of other occupants and was a lovely place to enjoy an al fresco lunch away from the fray but with a great view of people bustling by on their lunch hour.

I was very interested in the lecture topic, Soul of a People, about the lives and experiences of people who worked on the Federal Writer's Project back in the1930s. Naturally I'm one of those people who believe that during tough economic times, we need to look out for the creative class and the bounty of work that came out of doing just that back then should be proof enough of why.

It's not just that stories of massive unemployment resonate especially now, although of course they do, but the idea of economic stimulus policies that benefit the cultural good as well as the physical infrastructure should be on the table.

Author and filmmaker David Taylor spoke of the Federal Writer's Project as undoubtedly the most amazing instance of democracy in literature that we'll ever see. Just as importantly, it allowed for a mirror to be held up to American life, something that hadn't been done before.

Since there were still slaves and Civil War veterans alive in the 30s, even as the old ways of life were dying, the project coincided with an urgency to get people's individual stories. Part of the project became obtaining oral histories, an unprecedented effort to balance official histories with life history interviews.

I think a clear case could be made for the same sort of cultural collecting today and goodness knows we've got plenty of un- and under-employed writers and filmmakers available to do the job. We might have to up the pay from $70 a month, though.

While we're better about getting oral histories now, the fact is that the people who lived through the Great Depression, fought in WWII and Korea and have memories of a life completely unlike the ones we live today are rapidly dying. Every one of them has a unique experience to share.

In the same way that the Federal Writer's Project's travel books still provide a viable link to knowing and understanding the country's regions as they were 70 years ago (several attendees mentioned still using them when traveling), the accumulated knowledge collected in the 21st century would only grow more valuable with time.

And probably just like back then, it would be no badge of honor for the people doing federally-funded interviewing and writing. But it would be one rung above joblessness, and that alone would be worthwhile.

Maybe it's time to look backwards for inspiration, much like Positive Vibe Express' backward-looking pricing. Both suit the time.

Formerly Clueless About Coffee

There must have been something compelling about the subject of today's book talk at the Library of Virginia, because it was nearly a full house.

Author Bryant Simon's book Everything But the Coffee: Learning About America from Starbucks appealed to me because I don't drink coffee or go to Starbucks, so I was definitely curious about what can be gleaned about those who do. And Simon was a most engaging speaker, knowledgeable and witty.

Simon visited 450 Starbucks over a five-year period, coming to several cultural conclusions. He thinks that what we buy has meaning, that the spread of buying has been aided by a retreat away from public life to private spaces, and the fact that buying has simply become more important in American life.

And, by the way, he noted that Richmond is just about at Los Angeles' level for Starbucks saturation. I have to say, I'm prouder to be the third most tattooed city in the country than to know that we equal a place like L.A. for conspicuous consumption of Starbucks.

He stressed that people are willing to pay a higher price for coffee ($4 or more, I learned) and wait longer to get it for the sake of creating an image of themselves. And the elevated price of Starbucks coffee keeps a certain element out, further distinguishing a SB consumer from others. Certainly, he said, creating their own language helped create the insider/outsider separation.

I learned that Starbucks' coffee is the most caffeinated (twice that of McDonald's or Dunkin' Donuts), resulting in Simon's comment, "It's pretty good to sell a product that's addictive. Cigarette companies taught us that long ago." So true.

These lectures always end with a book drawing and unexpectedly I was today's winner. Accepting my gift, I mentioned the irony of it since I neither drink coffee nor frequent Starbucks. When Simon signed my copy, he wrote, "Karen, To more good luck! Enjoy, BS." Amen to the more good luck part.

As long as I was at the Library of Virginia, it seemed an ideal time to check out the new Positive Vibe Express Cafe. They were crowded with post-lecture attendees in line to order, so I took the easy route and got the Daily Special, a chili dog. Taking it to a nearby table, I settled in with my new book, a cultural history, one of my favorite reads.

The hot dog's skin had a nice snap when I bit it and the overflowing chili was full of beans, just the way I like it. And at $3.28, it cost less than a Starbucks coffee.

I'm hoping it also said something interesting about me as a person.