After a literary lunch I attended, I was walking around central London thinking about my writing, when I found myself outside a pub near the Houses of Parliament. I was thirsty so I went in. I got myself a pint and noticed two groups conversing in adjacent corners of the pub. I sat down on a bench in the middle of the two groups so I could listen to each group’s conversation. They didn’t even notice my presence. There were four men in each group, all wearing dark suits.

One group was discussing the pros and cons of GLOBALIZATION. The other group was arguing whether or not the UK should stay in the EUROPEAN UNION.

“My shirt was made in Thailand, my shoes in China, my phone comes from Japan and my car is German! Nothing I have is made in the UK. Is globalization a good or bad thing?” said a middle-aged, bearded gent.

“I think it is a good thing because the consumer can get products cheaper. It also gives countries a larger market. So if you can buy cheap shoes from China, the UK can concentrate on other things such as British tailoring of musical equipment.

Then a grey-haired fella spoke up:

“Well, I think it is a bad thing because globalization causes unemployment. Firms move their factories where there is cheap labor. Diseases can spread more quickly. Environmental problems increase because factories in other countries don’t have strict pollution laws. The rain forests are disappearing to supply wood to the rich countries.”

There were sour faces in the group. But he continued:

“Many workers in Third World countries are exploited and work in bad conditions just so rich nations can have cheap goods.”

A little fella spoke up:

“How did all this globalization come about?”

An intelligent looking bloke with large spectacles said:

“Well, it is NOT new! People have been trading goods and traveling great distances for thousands of years. In the modern age, it has been moving at a much faster pace. Today it is easier for firms to work in other countries. Technology is rampant, the Internet reaches more customers around the world. We can exchange money and ideas faster and cheaper than ever before.”

One chap stood up like a soldier and concluded:

“Well, there is good and bad things connected to globalization and many challenges will arise that the world will have to face.”

Then a guy slammed his fist on the table and shouted:

“I believe in Nationalism. I devote myself to the interests of my country. I want to emphasize national goals rather than international ones!” The fellow’s eyes were flashing with anger!

Everyone in that group went quiet!

I went for another pint and moved closer to the other group. I wondered if there were any politicians in the two groups.

“Britain would lose about three million jobs if it left the European Union,” said an important looking chap.

“Maybe those jobs would be lost that are dependent on the EU. But the EU would lose four million jobs that are dependent on UK membership. So, it would be silly for them not to trade with the UK. And another thing, The Lisbon Treaty stipulates that the EU must make a trade agreement with any country which leaves the EU!”

“Would the UK economy be hurt by leaving the EU?”

“I don’t think so because the EU and the UK are members of the World Trade Organization. The WTO would limit the amount of tariffs both could apply to each other’s goods. And Europe sells more to the UK than the UK sells to it. The EU needs the UK!”

“I’m a businessman and I am sick of the EU restrictions and rules that really hinder us, they are burdensome and expensive and time consuming! For example, if the US firms can get new products licensed and to market in days, why does it have to take weeks or months in the EU? And also, the EU open border policy is destroying all our infrastructure!”

Everyone was silent for a minute. The men that were for staying in the EU were glaring at the ones that wanted out!

One distinguished looking man broke the silence:

“I don’t think Britain can survive outside the EU as far as trade goes.”

“That’s a complete myth. Japan, the world’s third largest economy, is not in a trading bloc. Anyway, the EU’s share of world Gross Domestic Product is declining. Norway and Switzerland are not in the EU and they export more per capita to the EU than the UK does. So, being out of the EU doesn’t mean you can’t have a healthy trading business. Britain’s best trading partners are outside the EU, the USA and Switzerland. Plus the biggest investor in the UK is not an EU country, but the USA!”

By this time everyone in both groups had angry and irritated looks on their faces! They actually looked menacing!

I left the pub thinking:

I’M GLAD I WRITE MURDER MYSTERIES!

I was mingling at a literary lunch recently, when I started talking to an elderly gentleman. We were talking about the pleasantries of the day, when he came out with:

“Do you realize you and I are nothing but machines!”

I almost choked on my Hemingway Daiquiri!

“What do you mean by calling me a machine?”

“Well, your organs and body parts are working parts as a machine. Your brain is your mental machinery. You originate nothing, all your ideas and thoughts come from external influences. You are a machine shaping raw material from external sources.”

The elderly gentleman smiled sardonically, and continued:

“You and I are not in control, our lives are determined by factors outside of our control. Our futures are fixed and predetermined.”

“I am a writer, what about my creativity?”

“We create nothing, your creations are imitations!”

“What do you mean by that?” I was getting angry.

“Your imitations come from outside influences, experiences, reading books, etc. All this frames patterns in your mind and your mental machinery turns out the finished product. The less outside influences, the less product!”

“I have to disagree with your strange doctrine,” I scowled.

“It may be strange, but it makes sense. What do you think about creativity and originality then?”

“My originality comes from my judicious selection of all the ideas I have come across and how I put them together into a story. No one combines the knowledge in the exact same way as I do! My creativity is how I present my knowledge. You are a Determinist. I am a Existentialist!”

The old man thought for a moment and then said:

“So, what are your beliefs?”

“Well, I believe we have the freedom to CHOOSE who we are. My future is NOT predetermined at all! My belief is that our essence, our SELF, is something we decide and cultivate with our actions. We are our choices. You and you alone, are responsible for everything you do. You have the freedom to choose your “SELF.”

The old man looked quizzical and said:

“Well, I still believe our lives are completely predetermined.”

I finished my daiquiri and pondered my reply.

“Well, I adhere to the opposite philosophy: Free Will and Choice. Originality is your judicious selection of creative material and how you present it”

We both headed to the “Books For Sale” table. We both bought the same book.

“I was destined to buy and read this book. I simply picked it up because it was meant to be,” the old man said in a determined voice.

“I made an independent decision to buy this book, it was my choice!” I said confidently.

We both took our book and walked away in OPPOSITE directions!

I walked into the “Meeting Place” tavern, wondering who I would meet today. I walked down to the end of the bar and grabbed a stool opposite a huge montage picture of several writers raising their favorite drinks. I wondered if they were drinking to each other’s health!

A fella about thirty years old took the stool next to me and looked up at the picture of the drinking writers.

“I wonder why so many great writers were hard drinkers. Did it help their creativity?” he said looking straight into my eyes.

“I’ve got a few ideas on that subject,” I commented.

“I’m a beginning writer. I’d like to hear your ideas.”

“I happen to be a writer too,” I said smiling.

“Shall we start off our conversation with a drink? What would you like?”

“I’d like a Gin Rickey, please.”

“That’s a coincidence, I like Gin Rickeys also. I pointed up to the picture, see, that’s Fitzgerald’s favorite drink.”

“How do you know the drink in his hand is a Gin Rickey?”

“Bartender, two Gin Rickeys here. Now, I happen to know most of the great writer’s favorite drinks!”

“Amazing! Can you list a few?”

“Well, there’s Hemingway’s Mojito, a macho drink. Then, like I said, Fitzgerald liked the Gin Rickey. He liked them because nobody could smell it on his breath! Steinbeck liked the Jack Rose, an apple brandy drink with grenadine. Faulkner liked the Mint Julep, a great southern cocktail. Shall I go on?”

“I’ve heard enough and like I said, amazing!”

We both took a sip of our drinks.

“Now, please tell me the common factors in hard drinking writer’s personalities,” the wannabe writer said eagerly.

“Well, the first thing you think of is that they had demons in their heads and they thought alcohol would help to exorcise them. Maybe, a lot of them did have demons from their personality traits and early life experiences. Then, you think of the Freudian explanations, the strong mother and weak father effects that cause trouble in the mind, and many writers had parents like that. Many suffer from feelings of inadequacy because maybe the next project won’t be as good as the previous one. And finally, the old bugbear of writer’s block, they can’t get their creativity going!”

“Wow! There’s a lot there to fall into the dumps about!”

“Those men, in that montage picture, created some of the most interesting and beautiful writing we have ever read, but did their drinking help the creative process?”

“It must have helped in some way, otherwise there wouldn’t have been so many writers that drank!” The wannabe looked at me quizzically.

“Stephen King once said, when asked:

“Do you drink?”

“Of course,” he said, “I’m a writer!”

“Hey, that’s funny!”

“I thought I’d lighten things up a bit. I’m getting a little dry!”

“Bartender, give us a couple more Gin Rickeys,” said the wannabe.

I took a long sip of my refreshing cocktail.

“Now, where was I? Oh yes, what does drinking do to help creativity?”

I had another sip and continued:

“When we are sober we tend to be very focused and this can blind us to novel possibilities and a broader, more flexible state of attention which could help us improve creative solutions.”

“I think I read somewhere that science has confirmed that altered states of consciousness, induced by alcohol, remove us from our usual way of seeing the world. This could improve our creative thought and generate new ideas.”

“Hey, you’re seeing the connections now!” I smiled.

My wannabe writer friend spoke up:

“I just thought of a funny joke. Here it is: Some writers drink because they want to be mentioned in “BOOZE WHO!”

“To continue,” I said seriously.

“So lets sum up, writing involves new ideas for stories, alcohol promotes “thinking out of the box”. Writing requires self-confidence, alcohol brings self-confidence, but it might be false. Writing is solitary work, alcohol assuages loneliness. Writing demands intense concentration, which can be stressful, alcohol relaxes.”

My cocktail glass was empty!

“I’m dry again,” I said, rubbing my throat.

“Two more Gin Rickeys please. I’ve just thought of another joke…the favorite drink of a writer is the next one!”

“That’s funny,” I said smiling, and continued:

“Now, lets look at the creative process itself. It is made up of: Thinking outside of the box, which means to think differently, unconventionally, from a new perspective, looking farther than the obvious. Then you get inspired by new ideas and you research them. Then you ruminate over your thought s and ideas and decide which to work on. Then you let the idea stew for a while. And then comes the perspiration of working hard to bring the idea to fruition.”

“Can you follow that process without drinking?”

“Of course you can.”

“What about writer’s block?”

“Well, creativity comes and goes because life’s stresses get in the way and block!”

We both drained our Gin Rickeys.

“Bartender, two more cocktails for the road,” said the wannabe.

“Writers get depressed often and that’s when the drinking increases. Science has shown that depression is amplified in writers because they tend to ruminate over their thoughts.”

“But rumination is one of the main points of the creative process!”

“That’s right, writers and other creative people tend to think more about their thoughts. All this thinking can lead to feelings of failure and hopelessness. And this is where the drinking relieves those bad feelings with false courage, but it does relax you for a while.”

We took long sips of our drinks.

“But all this writerly thinking can have a PLUS side, without indulging in drink, because once you sort out the depressing thoughts it shifts the mind to more positive thoughts and it helps the writer to even more motivation to do more creative work!”

Wannabe finished his cocktail and said, “Well, it’s been nice talking to you. I’ve got to go home now and finish my first novel.”

I drained my glass and said, “Well, my friend, with all the cocktails you’ve had you should be very CREATIVE tonight!”

I WENT HOME TO BED!

Note-The American Dream—the ideal by which you have equal opportunity for your aspirations and goals to be achieved.

The freedom to achieve success with hard work and each according to their abilities to achieve success regardless of class or circumstances of birth.

***

After meeting Texas Guinan, the queen of speakeasies, I found myself again outside “The Meeting Place” tavern. I wondered who I would meet today!

I took a stool at the bar opposite a photo of the Dust Bowl in 1936. It showed farm equipment buried in dust. It was a depressing photo.

I ordered a beer and continued to study this tragic historical photo. A fella climbed onto the stool next to me. I studied him in the mirror behind the bar. He was a distinguished looking gentleman with dark hair, penetrating eyes and a mustache. He wore a tweed jacket over an open-collared shirt, dark trousers and black and white two-toned shoes.

He ordered a “Jack Rose” cocktail.

“I never heard of a drink like that,” I said.

“It’s an apple brandy based cocktail with lemon juice and grenadine. It’s my favorite drink,” said the fella smiling.

“Sounds good, I’ll have to try one later.”

We both took a sip of our drinks. I noticed he was looking sadly at the Dust Bowl photo.

“Must have been terrible times,” I commented.

“Yes, they were bad times, it was part of the Great Depression. I wrote a book about it. It was called, “The Grapes of Wrath.”

I drained my beer mug in one gulp!

“You’re John Steinbeck,” I stammered.

“Yes, the one and only,” he laughed.

“I’ve read the book and saw the movie with Henry Fonda.”

“It was a good adaptation of my book, but there was much more to the Depression, it was a complex time.”

I thought this was my chance to learn a few things about the 30’s by picking Steinbeck’s brain.

“Your book was a chronicle of the Depression. It was a damning commentary on the economic and social system that gave rise to the Depression. Did you do a lot of research about the plight of the Okies?”

“Oh yes, lots, I lived and worked with them and I made the journey with one family to California.”

“What is the interpretation of the title, “The Grapes of Wrath?”

“Well, the drought and dust destroyed a large part of agricultural production and farm jobs, which worsened the Depression. People were angry thus the wrath. The greed, self-interest and selfish ways of the landowners and banks in the 20’s came to a head. The grapes are a symbol of plenty and renewal. So, out of anger came renewal!”

“Bartender, give my friend here another “Jack Rose” and make one for me too.”

Steinbeck laughed, “We don’t drink to get drunk. We drink to enjoy life!”

“Hey, I like that saying. So, if I get a hangover it’s as a consequence not as a punishment!”

We both broke out in prolonged laughter.

“I liked the passage in your book when Grandpa says what he’s going to do when he gets to California and escapes the dust.”

“What passage is that?” said Steinbeck after taking a sip of the “Jack Rose”.

“ Well, Grandpa says, “I’m gonna pick me some grapes and I’m gonna squash ‘em on my face and let ‘em run down my chin. Then I’m gonna pick me a wash tub full of grapes and I’m gonna sit in ‘em, and scrooge around, and let the juice run down my pants!”

I took a sip of my cocktail and licked my lips.

“I think that is a very funny and sad passage.”

“Well, the book is about the struggles of men to accomplish a goal and something gets in the way like greed and self-interest, and then they get very angry.”

“I know the Depression started on October 29^th, 1929 with the Stock Market Crash. But what led up to it?”

“Well, by mid 1929, companies were losing their worth on the stock market. All through the 1920’s people were buying stocks on 90% credit, margin buying they called it. An individual could buy a stock with 10% of the cost and the broker would lend them the other 90%. Then they would use the promise of the stocks future earnings to buy more stocks. The system was abused and huge sums of imaginary money existed only on paper! People became “paper” millionaires. A credit buyer would hold the stock until the price went up and sell it for a profit. But the bubble burst in October of ’29. The value of stocks went up faster than the value of the companies the stocks represented. Panic selling started and prices fell. The brokers wanted their money repaid, but nobody could repay their debt. The market crashed and stocks lost 50% of their value!”

“Wow! A horror story of greed and carelessness in the 1920’s!”

“That’s right, my friend, but the Crash wasn’t the only cause.”

“I know people started to get panicky and withdrew their money from banks.”

“Right, over 9000 banks failed. Deposits were uninsured and people lost their savings! Then people stopped buying things, production went down and many jobs were lost. Unemployment was over 25%!”

“I remember my father telling me about the “soup kitchens” that sprang up to help feed the unemployed.”

“Yes, most served only soup and bread, some gave out coffee and doughnuts. Government unemployment relief was nonexistent!”

We both drained our cocktails.

“Was there any policy at that time with Europe that was part of the cause?”

“Yes, there was. As businesses went under, the government created a tariff to help protect companies. But this backfired because it led to less trade with other countries along with retaliation.”

“And this is where your book, “The Grapes of Wrath” about the Dust Bowl comes in.”

“Right, in the 20’s, farmers over-cultivated and over-produced on their land with the new mechanized methods. So, in the 30’s, the drought came with winds that blew all the topsoil away! Farms were sold for no profit or nothing at all, and people deserted the land. Food production went down which added to the woes of the Depression!”

“Your book tells us a lot about the greed and generosity in this depressing upheaval.”

“Yes, greed perpetuates itself but so does kindness. I tried to show the Depression on a human level.”

“This discussion reminds me of something you said that I read somewhere.”

“Oh yes? What’s that?” Steinbeck said eagerly.

“You said and I quote:

“It has always seemed strange to me…that the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness and honesty, understanding and feeling, are connected with failure in our system.

And those traits we detest, sharpness and greed, meanness and acquisition, egoism and self-interest, are the traits of success.

And while men admire the quality of the first, they love the produce of the second.”

“I remember saying that. And that just about sums it up,” Steinbeck said as he walked out the door.

When I was out for my daily constitutional (my walk), I found myself outside “The Meeting Place”. This was the tavern where I met the “Meditation Lady” the other day (see The Meeting Place blogs). I went in. I was walking around looking at all the pictures and photos of historical events and famous people. When I stopped in my tracks, in front of me was a beautiful lady perched on a baby grand piano. She was dressed in a long slinky white sequined gown reminiscent of the 1920’s.

I glanced behind me and the bar was filled with women and men in “Jazz Age” garb! The beautiful lady said, in a seductive voice, “Hello Suckers!” Then everyone in the tavern shouted, “Hello Texas!”

She looked at me and said, “Pull up a chair and stay a while. Give this gentleman a drink.”

The bartender brought me a martini mixed with orange juice.

“Are you a butter and egg man?”

“What’s that? I said mumbling.

“That’s my way of asking do you have money?” She laughed.

“A little,” I said, “Say, what is this place?”

“This, my friend, is Texas Guinan’s speakeasy, and you’re looking at Texas Guinan in the flesh!”

I took a sip of my cocktail.

“I remember reading about you. You made about a million dollars in 1926 selling illegal booze in Prohibition.”

“You got it in one, Darling,” she laughed.

“You used to have a show of beautiful fan dancers, didn’t you?”

“Yes I did. They used to dance  between the tables close to the patrons. So I told the gents to give the ladies a big hand, which they did, of course!”

I took another sip of my drink and said, “Is there a back way out of here, just in case?”

“Oh yes, I think of everything.”

I could hear jazz music in the background.

She spoke again, “This was a good business when Prohibition came in. Bootlegging made me and the gangsters rich!”

She laughed and started clicking her fingers to the music. It was Charleston music coming from the jukebox.

All of a sudden, a lovely flapper came out of nowhere and was dancing. She had bobbed hair with a feathered headband, a fringey short dress and a sexy pair of heels. It was delightful to watch!

A gangster looking guy wearing a black pin-striped zoot suit and a fedora hat, grabbed the flapper and took her off to a dark corner!

“If I remember my history, in 1919, the 18^th Amendment was ratified. This prohibited the manufacture, sale and transportation of intoxicating liquors. It was called “The Noble Experiment.”

“Yes, that’s right. We got raided regularly. It was the suppliers, not the drinkers, that the cops were after,” said Texas.

I took another sip of my cocktail. I wondered if it was “bath tub gin”.

“Those goofy women of the Temperance Union created the stink. They didn’t like the saloons, that they said were destructive to family life and the factory work discipline.”

“Oh, I get it, Prohibition was put in for the public good.”

There was a lot of noise behind me. Then the police came storming in the front door.

“This is a raid, everyone stay where you are!”

I ran out the back way! Wow! What a “Roaring 20’s” experience that was. The great thing was that I met one of the big names of the Prohibition era. Too bad I didn’t get to see the fan dancers!

Coincidently, Texas Guinan died in 1933, and on the day after her death the government repealed Prohibition!

This was the second meeting of Writer Dave’s Classic Book Club. My four members, LLC, Tom, Linda, and Marla, were seated along with me, Writer Dave, in a semi circle around the fire in my lounge.

“We have read two books by Ernest Hemingway, “The Sun Also Rises” and “The Garden of Eden”. Tonight we will discuss them and the author Hemingway.”

“He was quite a character in real life, wasn’t he?” said LLC.

“Yes, he was. I’d call him “The Ultimate Artistic Personality.”

“And what does the “Artistic Personality” consist of?” said Tom.

“Well, Hemingway was a study in contrasts, and that’s what the artistic personality is, “conflicting and contrasting,” I commented.

“What are some of Hemingway’s contrasts?” said Marla.

“Well, over confidence alternating with shaky self- esteem is one. Another is, he had periods of sharp creative thinking alternating with confusion and apathy. He would seek out different types of people to be his friends then he would retreat into self-absorption. He also was very moody at times alternating with great levity.”

“Hemingway liked his pleasurable living and alcohol, didn’t he?” said Linda.

“That’s right, and he had a tendency toward extremes in his love life coupled with marital failure.”

I took a sip of my coffee and continued,

“What about his style of writing?”

It’s a simple, crisp, clipped, and very clean style,” said Marla.

“Right, he didn’t use many adjectives or adverbs. There are silences in his prose, that the reader has to fill in. This might help you understand the story more.”

“I always thought of Hemingway as the epitome of machismo,” said LLC.

“Yes, he was very macho, but, here’s the contrast again, he did have a soft, tearful side.”

Tom was smiling when he said, “Thinking about his heavy drinking, it reminds me of one of his quotes: “Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut!”

We all laughed.

“Who will give us a short summary of “The Sun Also Rises?”

“It’s an autobiographical account of an American journalist living in Paris. It’s about the character, Jake, who suffered a war wound that left him impotent, and his love for Brett, and their escapades as the “Lost Generation.”

“Very good, LLC. Now, what about the themes?”

“Well, the characters seemed truly lost and aimless. WW1 ended traditional notions of morality, justice and faith. Life seemed to have no meaning to them as they wandered Paris,” said Linda.

“So, there was the loss of the macho image after WW1. The prewar ideal of the brave soldier was gone after they huddled in trenches being bombarded. They were just lucky, not brave, to survive,” said Tom.

Marla spoke up, “The heavy drinking was also a theme. They drank to escape reality and to increase their excitement.”

“All very good comments. Now, what are some of the meanings we can take away from this story?”

“What I came away with was, “Live life to the fullest” even if you feel lost. It doesn’t matter much what you do, as long as you have had your life. If you haven’t had that, what have you had,” said LLC.

“On the other hand, if you live your life flippantly, you have to pay the price. If we don’t value things, we have to pay for it,” said Tom.

We all took a break for coffee and biscuits.

Marla and Linda said they have dabbled in writing, so I spouted another Hemingway quote, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and BLEED!” Now days it is a word processor.”

“Now lets discuss the other book we’ve read. “The Garden of Eden”, published posthumously and unfinished by Hemingway. The book was edited. This book is EXPLOSIVE Hemingway! It is EROTIC Hemingway!’

I let that statement sink in, the members were silent for a moment.

“Who wants to give us a short summary?”

“This book is about female desire unleashed to control a man called David, and how he breaks free to take control of himself again through his writing.”

“Very good, Tom. Now, how does the woman, Catherine, control David?”

“She uses the “ménage a trois” as a way of control. This is a two women and one man living arrangement,” said LLC.

“Anything else?” I prompted.

“Yes, Catherine wanted to control David’s writing, which was his core being, by telling him only to write “their” story, their Garden of Eden. She tried to destroy him by burning “his” stories,” said Marla.

“Now, how did David break free?”

“He broke free by re-writing “his” stories of Africa. His boyhood adventure with his father was a story Catherine knew nothing about and she was jealous of “his” story,” said Linda.

“And lastly, what was the ending of the story?”

“David ends up with Marita, the other woman in the “ménage a trois”. She understands David and his writing. She becomes the “perfect writer’s wife”, a woman eager to please and to arrange his life seamlessly, and with no needs or desires of her own. No interference with his writing,” said LLC.

“Now, what did we learn from this story?”

“Well, we learnt about the tragic and darker sides of hedonism, the belief that pleasure is the most important thing in life,” said Tom.

“Anything else?”

Linda spoke up, “Catherine’s bisexual ménage a trois was a way to control David sexually and every other way, including his writing.”

I took a sip of my coffee and said:

“In summing up, another view of this novel would be the concerns and themes of the writer. It is about ART, about creating, and about the craft of writing and the struggle of the writer to be true to his art. David had to write “his” African life story to remake himself. He had to abandon the frivolous story that Catherine wanted him to write only about them.”

The members pondered that statement for a minute.

“I’m ending with a Hemingway quote that applies to the protagonist in this story.

“THE WORLD BREAKS EVERYONE, AND AFTERWARD, SOME ARE STRONG AT THE BROKEN PLACES.”

Before Linda left, she said, “I hope there are DVD’s of these two books, I would like to get them.”

Because of the influence of the “Writer’s Corner” wine bar, with all the portraits of classic authors on the walls, I had an idea!

I would start up “Writer Dave’s Classic Book Club”. I wanted to get back into the classics, many of which I’ve heard of, but haven’t read. If I did read one, I didn’t uncover the hidden meanings of the book.

I would hold meetings at my house once a month to discuss a classic book that the members would read before the meeting.

I put an advert in the local paper and got back four replies, two men and two women:

LLC-a man that only went by his initials! He said he was retired and had done many things in his life.

Tom-an elderly gent, who said he was an amateur actor.

Linda-a middle-aged lady, who reads to escape her routine.

Marla-a young woman, just graduated from university. She was not sure what to do with her life, but she loved books.

A good group to discuss the classics intelligently. I told them our first book to discuss would be “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Our first meeting would be in a month’s time.

THE  FIRST  MEETING

We were all seated in a semi-circle around the fire in my lounge. Everyone had a cup of coffee and the discussion began.

“I’d like to start with a little background on the author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1896 to 1940. He lived only 44 years. He coined the phrase, “The Jazz Age” to describe the 1920’s. He and his wife, Zelda, were great party-goers until she got mentally ill. He was one of the American writers who were dubbed, “The Lost Generation”, along with Hemingway and Dos Passos.”

I was holding their attention, that was good!

“I am Writer Dave and I am as interested in the classics as you people are. I hope we will learn about and enjoy these books together. I first read “The Great Gatsby” many years ago, when I was in High School. I was 17 years old and it was required reading. We all have heard about these books, and maybe we’ve read a few, but most of us probably didn’t really understand them completely. There are lots of hidden insights to be extracted from the classics.”

“What is the definition of a classic?’ said LLC.

“That’s a good question. I like to think of a classic as a written work that is both “TIMELESS” and  “TIMELY”.  They have been read through the years but they have insights that are relevant even today!”

I took a sip of my coffee.

“Can someone give me a summary of the book in less than 100 words?”

LLC spoke up, “Poor Gatsby needs to obtain wealth to marry Daisy, his love. He becomes wealthy, gives lavish parties and finds her again, but she is married. They have an affair but Daisy finds out about his mysterious business dealings. She stays with her husband. Gatsby takes Daisy home from N.Y. in his car, but she drives. Daisy hits her husband’s mistress and kills her. The mistress’s husband finds out it was Gatsby’s car and shoots Gatsby and himself. Only Nick, the narrator, and Gatsby’s father attend the funeral. Complete disillusionment at the end.”

“Very good, LLC” The club members broke out in applause!

“Anything to add to that description?”

“The book was about the “American Dream” and Gatsby was a self-made man but by questionable means,” said Marla.

“Good answer. Now, what drove him on?”

“Greed and love, an explosive combination,” said Tom.

“Did you find yourself lost in the book, was it a page turner?”

“Oh yes, I was living the characters, second hand,” said Linda.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Linda. This story gives us a portrait of 1920’s wealth, parties, dreams and tragedy.”

I warmed everyone’s coffee up and continued:

“Was the book autobiographical? Yes, it was to a degree,” I answered my own question. “Fitzgerald and his wife, Zelda, lived a wild party life until the novelty wore out and Zelda got ill. She liked the good life so Fitzgerald needed to make money with his books.”

“I think all writer’s work is autobiographical to an extent. It’s like a map of their mind. You can understand what their concerns are, what their obsessions are, and what interests them,” said Marla.

“Marla, that is very true.”

“So, did you get any insights from The Great Gatsby?”

“The message I got was that we all hope we can free ourselves from our origins. In other words throw  off the shackles of “Class’’. We want to invent ourselves and shape ourselves through hard work. We are NOT measured by our parent’s background and class but what we make of ourselves,” said Tom.

“Well said, Tom.”

LLC spoke up, “I’d like to live the party life and dive into swimming pools with my whiskey on the rocks!”

We all laughed.

“Well, that lightened this discussion up,” I smiled.

“It was a story of flawed people pursuing happiness,” said Linda.

I warmed my coffee up and took a sip.

“I’d like to play the part of Gatsby,” said Tom smiling.

“The green light was mentioned in the novel, what was that all about?

“It was not just a green light that Gatsby saw across the bay, but a “GO” signal to meet the fulfillment of his dream with Daisy,” said LLC.

I continued the thought, “Also, I think Gatsby knew he would have to act fast and met the green light, which was the future, but year by year it recedes before us, less and less future!”

“So, to sum up, Gatsby didn’t get his gratification of the love of Daisy. The book is about the excesses of capitalism in the 1920’s. The “Dream” never measures up to the reality. The gratification never measures up to the dream!”

Linda got up and said, “I liked the story, I’m going to buy the DVD!”

I had just finished a chapter in my present, in process book. So, I thought I’d take a break.

I found myself in the “Writer’s Corner” wine bar. The other day I met a man that knew a lot about Benjamin Franklin in this place, filled with authors portraits.

I climbed up on a stool opposite the picture of Nathaniel Hawthorne. I ordered a large glass of red wine and studied the portrait. It was a very imposing picture of a man with sharp, structured facial features, and long dark hair flowing around his ears. Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1804-1864.

“Hello, do you come here often?”

It was the fellow sitting on the next stool. He sort of resembled the portrait of Hawthorne! He was dressed impeccably in a dark suit, white starched shirt and a dark bow tie.

“This is only my second time here,” I replied.

“Have you read much of Hawthorne’s work?” The fella said, pointing to the portrait.

“I’ve only read “The Scarlet Letter.”

“You should read his best short story, “Wakefield,” my drinking partner commented.

“I’ve never heard of it. What makes it so good?”

“It’s one of the strangest stories you will ever read. Also it has a hidden meaning in it!”

“Sometimes, when I finish a book, I don’t get the meaning. It’s a riddle to me.”

We both took long sips of our wine.

“There are times I wish I could call the author up on the phone and get his explanation.”

“You won’t have to do that, I’ll tell you about “Wakefield.”

“Please tell me, I’m all ears.”

I glanced up at Hawthorne’s picture, it was like it came alive! His eyes were boring through to my soul. It was weird!

My drinking partner continued, “Wakefield” is an odd story about a fellow walking out on his wife after 10 years of marriage. He felt he was a nobody.”

“Was adultery involved?” I said, smiling.

“No, nothing of the kind. This man settled down in a flat one block away in order to observe-for 20 years-the effect he was having and then he returned to his wife!”

“Wow! That is strange!”

“You bet it’s strange. This is not your standard mystery: there are no secrets, no corpses, no ghosts, not even a romance! Just an exit, a vigil, and a return!”

“Bartender, give us a bottle of this wine, this explanation is going to take a while,” I said, “We will share.”

My partner smiled. “Thank you, very much.”

“So, what have we got so far? An ordinary man, a Mr. Nobody, leaves his spouse, for 20 years, to spy on her. He wanted to see the impact of his absence!”

I re-filled both of our glasses and said, “Now, I want to know, WHY DOES WAKEFIELD LEAVE HIS WIFE?”

“That’s a good question, why do you think?”

“Well, 10 years of marriage, maybe a mid-life crisis! Maybe he is a sadist and wants to play a nasty trick on his wife.”

“It could be those reasons, but I don’t think so.”

“Why then?” I said, wanting to know badly.

“He leaves to UNDERSTAND himself!”

“We all want to understand ourselves.”

“That’s right, but in life we can’t really do that. Who can tell us who we are? YOU are always in the way of that understanding.”

I sipped my wine and pondered that thought.

“So, that is probably why Wakefield left, so he wouldn’t be in the way!”

“I think you’ve got it!” said my bar stool mate.

“When he returns home after 20 years, he felt he had found himself. By removing himself from the picture, he saw how people reacted when they thought he was gone and then presumed dead.”

We both stared up at Hawthorne’s portrait.

“So, Wakefield was no more a Mr. Nobody. He was a Somebody, in his mind.

“We all should go on a visionary project to find ourselves, to look beyond and see things we don’t know, living so close to one’s self!”

“So my friend, that is the hidden meaning in “Wakefield”, Hawthorne’s brilliant short story.”

I sipped my wine and thought about my conversation with this man I had just met.

“I want to understand myself also. So this odd story leaves me asking:

HOW DID THE AUTHOR KNOW THAT ABOUT ME?”

I saw an advert in my local newspaper for a new wine bar that also served food. It was opening up not far from me. It was called, “The Writer’s Corner”. Since I am a writer, the name intrigued me.

The next day I visited “The Writer’s Corner”. I walked into a large room with a long bar with 20 stools along one wall. The rest of the room was filled with booths along another wall and tables and chairs in the middle. There was a luxurious red carpet throughout and the walls were wood paneled. There was low ceiling lighting. But what really struck me were all the pictures of writers lining the walls. There were at least 50 pictures, ranging from Franklin, Emerson, and Poe to Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller and Don DeLillo!

I sat at the bar opposite a large picture of Ben Franklin. I ordered a glass of red wine. Franklin was not only one of the Founding Fathers of America but an accomplished writer also.

The fellow next to me was heavy-set with an oval face, thin wire spectacles and long brown hair down to the top of his shoulders. He was dressed in a black suit.

“Nice place they opened up here?” I remarked.

“Yes, it is. It makes you feel like you are among the literary greats.”

“We’re sitting by Franklin’s picture, have you read any of his work?”

“Oh yes, all of it! From the “Autobiography” to “Poor Richards Almanac” through to the “13 Virtues.”

“Boy, you’re a student of Ben Franklin!”

“You could say that,” he smiled.

“I think Franklin believed in the “self-made man,” I ventured, trying to show my knowledge.

“Yes, he did. He was a self-made man. He was a man coming from humble beginnings and he achieved success through his own hard work and ingenuity. He had accomplished many achievements during his lifetime.”

I took a sip of my wine and savored it while I studied the Franklin picture. He had the look of a wise man.

“I like his proverbs in the Almanac.”

“Which ones do you like?”

“I like, “There are no gains without pains”, and “One today  is worth two tomorrows,” I said, enthusiastically.

“Yes, I like those too,” he said, smiling.

“I believe Franklin signed the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States.”

“Yes, he not only signed them, he actually wrote parts of them. He was a true “Yankee.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that!”

I took a sip of my wine.

“He believed in the virtuous life, didn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s why he wrote the 13 Virtues for people to follow.”

My friend drank the last of his wine.

“I have to leave now. I’ve had my two glasses of wine.”

“Oh yes, one of the virtues was “Temperance.”

“That’s right, my friend, “Eat not to dullness and drink not to elevation.”

With that statement he left.

I finished my wine staring at Franklin’s picture and I thought:

I WONDER IF I HAVE BEEN ACTUALLY TALKING TO BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!