I think Lila Mae would actually compare better to All Other Slayers (tm) with the exception of Buffy-

True.

I thought this too. The institute was just about the sole exception (there was that billboard in the beginning) and even that could be overblown by the community. Have you ever worked at a private business college? Same sorta "go team us" and "this place is WONDERFUL" even though it clearly is not.

I think I got that impression from both the existence of the Institute and the interest in the press conference. I suppose too because United and Arbo appeared to be significant going concerns, and it attracted the attention of the city's main gangster. But that's all circumstantial, really. I think I was primed to see things that way by some blurb or other somewhere.

I thought the interest in the press conference was more because there had been a near-catastrophic accident in a brand new building involving an elevator (that had just been inspected) just before the mayor got on with his very important guests. An event like that is going to get a lot of attention, whether elevator inspectors are important or not. Also, do we know how long a program at the Institute was supposed to last? It was presented as a big intensive years-long program, since it had dorms and such, but what if it only lasted a year and this was the only school of its kind, so it had a lot of students revolving in and out.

Two scenes I did like, although I haven't reread them, so I may have missed something: Little Lila Mae and her father reading the elevator catalog and the dance hall scene with the old man.

I liked these moments because it seemed that Lila Mae was open to connection, although not attempting those connections herself. I compare these scenes to the scene with her boy-friend (what was his name?), when Lila Mae was definitely not open to connection, even though she wished he had kissed her again.

It still makes me sad that when Lila Mae does connect, it is with another idea (her racial identity instead of Intuitionism) and not a person. I don't see that she's really taken much of a journey. She started out as the first black female elevator inspector and was an Intuitionist; things happened to her; she ended as the first black female (former?) elevator inspector who decided to learn what she learned about Fulton to write another book about Theoretical Elevators.

Also, I don't think Lila Mae is Buffy at all. Buffy talked, walked, shopped, sneezed, and was goning to be a fireman when the floods rolled back. I think Lila Mae would sleep on a bed of bones if it would make her life simpler (not better).

Hi, y'all. I'm sorry I haven't had time to talk about all these points, but I've been busy between having my brother in town and work.

Anyway, quickly, I agree that the elevator inspectors aren't important to the city at large. Lila Mae's world is fairly insular. I'd forgotten about that "Southern preacher down south" reference, which does rather fix the time in a certain point.

And I did like the book considerably more than a lot of you, and wish that I was smart enough and had time to launch an adequate defense. I agree it had problems, but they weren't a deal-breaker for me. Also, I'd read the book several years back and quite enjoyed the re-read with half-remembered knowledge of what was coming.

For me, Lila Mae isn't a cipher, but a fairly angry, albeit emotionally remote, person. Her anger stems from the disconnect between her passionate belief in Intuitionism/uplift and the racism that surrounded her. And I'm sorry if I'm repeating, but "uplift" is a fairly ubiquitous and important concept in African-American thought in this country, from W.E.B. DuBois's Souls of Black Folks through Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison, and even in Malcom X's autobiography and speeches. I think Whitehead's attempt to marry the concept with the religious language that spawned it and the literal machinery of uplift is clever and worthwhile, if not entirely successful. Surrounding it with a postmodern Chandler-via-Pynchon narrative is also smart, and the most successful part of the story for me. And I think what changes in her journey isn't her job or the color of her skin, it's her understanding about the possibility of the future. And, to pick on Billytea once again, to say that African-Americans had life difficult before the Civil Rights Movement ISN'T trite; it's a fundamental point about society. Please note that Whitehead isn't saying that things are going to be easier for African-Americans in the second elevation, either. He's just saying that new possibilities will be available.

OK, I have to go back to work, but I will check in tonight to respond. I'm sorry for the scattershot approach of my posting, again, but life is getting in the way.

And, to pick on Billytea once again, to say that African-Americans had life difficult before the Civil Rights Movement ISN'T trite; it's a fundamental point about society.

I think you're referring to someone else. That doesn't seem to be a response to anything I'd said. (Though having said that, being true, even fundamental, isn't actually a defence against being trite. Which is why sports commentators still have jobs.)

What I did say was that setting the novel in race relations as they were several decades ago obscured for me whether his book said anything about race relations today. I still don't know if he intended his novel to say anything about current society, or if it was all supposed to be a historical perspective.

Surrounding it with a postmodern Chandler-via-Pynchon narrative is also smart, and the most successful part of the story for me.

I imagine this is just a love it or hate it proposition. I still don't entirely understand why the love-its love it, although neither can I come up with a thoughtful analysis of why I am in the hate-it camp. Mostly it boils down to: hush up with that other stuff and tell me what you really mean, with which one might rightly accuse me of gross reductionism.

Just got back from vacation and I have a mountain of crap to wade through, but I wanted to drop in with a couple of quick comments and then hopefully flesh them out a little more.

This book was far from perfect and I found a lot of the reading to be tedious, but I never in a million years would have read this book otherwise, so I already feel like I've expanded my horizons (or verticals) significantly.

I had a couple of problems with reading this book. The first one was an inability to grok the genre. The book was fraught with two-dimensional characterizations (mob boss, thugs, evil corporations, wise old man) that scream out parody but the joke seemed to fall flat because the protaganist took herself way too seriously. Just like Fulton's joke, this book starts out trying to be funny, but slowly moves into a very serious mode. And neither mode is completely satisfying.

The second problem I had was that the world Whitehead creates doesn't clearly define the rise and acceptance of intuitionism, and he neglects to even hint at providing some solid foundation for it. What I mean is, we don't get much background to the struggle of the intuitionists. Here's a "science" that's barely a couple decades old, and we're supposed to accept the concept that not only do the intuitionists have the same standing as empiricists (like democrats/republicans) in the eyes of the majority of elevator insiders, but they have held power at various times, yet Lila Mae seems to be surrounded by only derisive empiricists as if intuitionism is still a rare and untrustworthy method? So which way is it? Presenting it as both just made it confusing.

And I found the concept of intuitionism much more intriguing than the whodunit. And as a result, I was very disappointed in the ending. Maybe I wanted more of the fantastic element because I found the rest of the naarative so boring. I cared less about who had the notebook and more about its contents - which never get revealed.

I don't know if this happened to anyone else, but I was halfway through the book before I noticed the author's picture on the back cover. I had no idea he was black. So for the first half of the book I was oddly jarred by the way he treated his black characters and the amount of times he used the word "ni**er", but after I noticed that Whitehead was black, I felt a little more comfortable. Which made me think, what difference should it make that the author is black or white when it comes to the story? It may be my own subconscious prejudices that a black individual can wield the "N word" indiscrimately, while a white individual needs substantial justification, even when used out of the mouths of characters in a novel. Which on a conscious level seems a little unfair. And maybe it's unfair that I assumed the author was white until I saw the photo. Then again, his name is Whitehead, so that may have contributed. Hard to say.

Anyway, I have lots more to say on this book, but I'll have to put some on hold until later. Hell, we have the whole month.

ETA: Weird thing is I just now caught up in Natter and Minearverse. Apparently (mis)use of racial slurs has been a popular topic the last couple of days.

being true, even fundamental, isn't actually a defence against being trite. Which is why sports commentators still have jobs

Snerk. It's funny 'cause it's true

I had a couple of problems with reading this book. The first one was an inability to grok the genre.

This didn't bug me (although it seems to have bugged others). I saw the lack of a clear genre, but I didn't have a problem with just going with it.

I don't know if this happened to anyone else, but I was halfway through the book before I noticed the author's picture on the back cover. I had no idea he was black.

One bookstore I tried to find the book at had it in the black literature section. That helped to clue me in....

And I'm sorry if I'm repeating, but "uplift" is a fairly ubiquitous and important concept in African-American thought in this country, from W.E.B. DuBois's Souls of Black Folks through Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison, and even in Malcom X's autobiography and speeches.

See, I haven't read enough about Afriican-American history to be able to make that parallel, so it was completely lost on me. Which is too bad, because I (seriously) like the book more now that I know that Whitehead chose elevators for a reason.