Book Report: Holy Tango of Literature

It’s always an ethical tight spot when Your Humble Blogger reads an old buddy’s book. On one level, it’s a bit like going backstage; quite aside from the possibility of actually offending the author/friend with sincerely critical points, there’s the fact that whatever one actually says, one is likely to leave out mentioning the author’s favorite bit. “He didn’t mention the note about the typeface,” the author/friend will later say to his significant other/bartender. “He really pointedly didn’t mention it.”

Then, of course, there’s my responsibility for those of my Gentle Reader that didn’t write this particular book. If I dupe you into buying copies of your very own, it would be good for the writer, but not necessarily for the Bond of Trust that has grown between us. You aren’t reading these book reports to find out whether my friends are clever. I’m not sure why you are reading these book reports, but I feel pretty sure that isn’t it.

So, I’ve found that the only really ethical thing to do in such cases is to review the book only in terms of its likelihood of making oogobs of money for my buddy, off of whom I can then mooch. Off. Of. Viewed in those terms, Holy Tango of Literature (3rd. Ed.) is clearly a disaster. I mean, yes, very funny, anagram the names of poets and playwrights and then use that as a title for a poem in that style. Is there really a market for that? All the puns and subtle references and the way the poems work in parodies of other pop culture and literary sources along the way are fine, but nobody ever got rich on subtle references. I mean, yes, Geoffrey Chaucer anagrams to Carry Huge Coffee, which leads to

Now to this citie in a languor stukke
Came a fair knight cleped Sterrebukke
Beryng benes from a forein land
Ygrounde to a poudre in his hand

which I like even if my spellchecker doesn’t. But how many people really are going to shell out a dozen dollars for witty erudition? Take the first line of the Anonymous poem “Sumo Annoy”: Sumo ar icumen in. Essentially, either you think that’s funny, or you don’t, and if you do, well, you’re a nerd. And probably not one of those rich nerds who spontaneously give six-figure grants to hard-working parodists, either. No, you are one of those nerds who thinks that if an e. e. cummings parody begins “nice smug me lived in a pretty hip town”, it’s worth finding out how the rest of it goes. But you’re also one of those nerds who will take it out from the library.

Look, nobody’s going to buy the movie rights. There’s not going to be a Def Holy Tango Jam hosted by F.H. There will be no Holy Tango toys along with the Burger King kids’ meals. There will be no Holy Tango Holiday Special, with best-selling CD (although there are the Holy Tango Basement Tapes, which are free for downloading, so there’s no money in that). In short, should I see Francis of an afternoon, he won’t invite me to come along to an expensive restaurant (at his expense) where he will introduce me to prosperous and generous people who drop by the table to bask in his air of affluence before we go back to his luxurious pad, full of great gadgets, many of which he would be only too happy to lend to an old hometown friend.

On the other hand, it doesn’t take up as much space as that one W. W. Norton publishes.

Thank you,
-Vardibidian.