A Book about New Orleans and some Jazz

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

I will not bother rating it because I believe it will speak for itself.  I said in the title of this post that this book is about New Orleans.  It's a bit of a misnomer.  A Confederacy of Dunces is about my old city and more.  This is a story of intricately woven madness which takes place in one of the most appropriate cities in the world for a book of this nature: New Orleans, LA.  It reeks of disturbing problems associated with the modern Southern identity along with the black hilarity such circumstances afford.
The [anti]hero of the novel, Ignatius J. Reilly is painfully antiquated, repulsive, and fantastic. Reilly is the hub of the novel, surrounded by a menagerie of characters whom Toole shockingly manages to fit into this cosmic mayhem.  At times I could feel myself cringing at the awkwardness of the dialogue and situations portrayed anywhere Reilly set one of his swollen, boot-clad feet, though at others I found myself laughing aloud on the verge of tears.  What a delightful mixture. A reader can really revel in this oddball's even odder story.  
Parallel stories and side plots weave in and out of the narrative, making readers guess what kind of wild goose chase they're being led on.  What's best: it makes sense.  All of it.  The characters' lives meet in an astounding crescendo that gives this story not only its cohesion, but its magic.
The actual language of the novel is another aspect of its beauty.  The strange and uniquely Southern Louisiana accent is duplicated in a way that makes me crave King Cake.  Even a character's cold becomes a laughable element of the story when duplicated in Toole's way.  What's special about the narration is that the narrator has no need to explain, "He thought" or "she wondered".  This formality is bypassed when the narration incorporates the rhetoric particular to each character.  Readers jump immediately into the minds of characters, like Jones's musings about "that mother in the green cap" or Reilly's feelings that anyone who offends his sense of propriety "should be lashed".  And this adoption of rhetoric progresses as characters become more familiar to the reader, drawing a person into the story even more.  Genius.   
In the end, a profound sense of justice is displayed.  Each character gets what he or she deserves.  (Again, a Southern novel.)  Well, maybe I should restate that--each character gets what you as a reader want them to get, maybe not what they deserve.  You really can't begrudge the ending bestowed upon "Your Working Boy"...

Many thanks to my photographer.

And as promised: some jazz to accompany the setting.

Same Girl by Youn Sun Nah                                    The surprise of 12647 unexpected gifts!
A very unique style of music in which the artist actually uses her voice as an instrumental element, not only singing, but seemingly accompanying herself with her vocals and lyrics.  She creates some of the most haunting song covers I have ever encountered.  It's not truly minimalism, but there is a sense of negative space that is evoked with the simplicity and tempo of the music.  Not what I was expecting at all.  And just in time for the Christmas season, check out:  Youn Sun Nah's cover of "Favorite Things" on You Tube 

Lars Danielsson's   Tarantella                                83 authentic Mexican cheese enchiladas
I'm nowhere nearly sophisticated enough to comment on most jazz, but I think this album isn't the kind that delivers to only the intellectual music elitists.  It is what is right about jazz.  Recurring, yet beautifully improvised themes and an exploration of the creativity of the artist as well as the imagination of the listener.  A beautiful warmth and peace emanates from the tracks.  You can visit the artist's website here: http://www.larsdanielsson.com/html/frame.html 

Cheers to good entertainment!