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Today we'll be discussing A Tale of Two Cities
a terrific book
by that most Dickensian of authors, Charles Dickens.
Okay, you've all read it.
Come on, let's get a dialogue going.
Um, I really liked the guillotine.
Yes, yes.
Um, why don't they have the guillotine here?
Well, I don't know, but the theme...
Did anyone ever try to pull
their head out of the guillotine at the last minute
so, like, just the top of their head got chopped off?
Okay, are there any questions not involving the guillotine?
Anyone?
Anything?
So that's it?
What about class differences?
What about romantic love?
Sacrifice and regret?
Everything in life is between the covers of this book, people.
You went crazy.
My husband likes his stories.
People say he was
a poor man's Hemingway
but I think Hemingway was a poor man's Hemingway.
"Poor man's Hemingway."
Uh, can I help you find something?
Well, yes.
I am looking to replace my well-worn
and fully understood copy of A Tale of Two Cities
by Charles... Dickens.
Of course. It's in Classics to your left.
Anyway, I hope tonight's discussion
will be as spirited as the last one.
You bring the opinions, I'll bring the Merlot
and I'm sure it will be.
Merlot? Well, excuse me.
You must be talking about a book club.
We are.
A bientot.
Pardon my French.
Oh, es de nada.
And my Spanish needs no apologies.
You know, as one intellectual to another.
I must say
your book club sounds fun.
And I do happen to be free tonight.
You're not free.
You have a date with Dickens.
That'll be $5.95.
Yup.
Oh, mind if I join you?
I'm kind of in the mood
for some stimulating conversation.
You've come to the right place.
Now, Bill, you were opining on a matter of some import.
Oh, yeah.
Why is it I like butter but I don't like cheese?
They're both yellow.
Is it the texture?
You do too like cheese, Bill.
I've seen you eat it.
No, I don't.
Remember A Tale of Two Cities?
Dickens?
Well, I'm in the middle of rereading it and it...
Peggy, you've seen Bill eat cheese.
Why won't you take my word for this?
Cream cheese is cheese, Bill.
No, it's not. It's butter.
And if I'm in your book club
I can assure you
you'll never have to worry about
long awkward pauses.
Well, what do you think?
If it were up to me, I'd... think about it.
But they only invite me
because I give them a discount on their books.
And I'm closing the store soon to retire anyway.
My lease is up.
Retiring?
Everybody keeps saying, "Leave Arlen?"
But I've always wanted to spend
my later years someplace where it's nice and cold
all year round.
$600 a month for five years?
I don't know.
Hank, I really need
to be around people who love books.
I will do all the work all you have to do is cosign
as you are the one with an income
and the house is in your name.
Oh, please, Hank.
I will be raking in money with one hand
and reading my book for the book club with the other.
Oh, Hank!
My sacred mission
to bring literature to Arlen is now yours.
Oh, wait, wait.
One last thing.
When do I start to attend the book club?
Oh, well, the next meeting isn't for a couple of weeks.
I'm sure they'll stop by.
The best of luck to you, dear.
Okay, this is it.
Show time.
Hello there, ma'am.
We're here to support our local bookseller and buy some books.
Well, thank you, handsome patron.
Bobby, why don't you go look in the adventure section.
Anything about a boy with gumption should be fine.
"Clea, Huntress of Dragonvale.
Part the Fifth of the Elves of Evermore Series."
Huh.
You're listening to Peru Today
on listener supported public radio.
So, how's the...
Fantastic.
Best decision I ever made in my life.
Good night, Hank.
Oh, Dale.
So this is a book store.
Smells boring.
Mm, have you thought about putting saw dust on the floor?
I'm getting apple everywhere.
I'm sorry, Dale
but this store is reserved for customers and literati.
So, why don't you take your apple...
It's a Braeburn.
And get out?
Okay. Wait.
I am a customer.
I'd like your thickest book, please.
Here's The Odyssey.
It's thick, it's old, it's Greek.
This looks promising.
Nih, nih, nih.
What the hell are you doing?
I can't hide a gun inside it
without hollowing it out.
Unless you have some precuts?
Pardon me, ma'am but can you
give me four quarters for a dollar?
No, I'm sorry. I have a sign.
Hey, how much for the 1911-A-1?
This baby is yours for, oh...
300 dollars American.
Sold.
Dale, you cannot sell a firearm in my bookstore.
I know, I know.
You want your house cut.
20% to the madame.
Madame, $60.00.
In theory, I reject this money.
It is only in practice that I accept it.
You know, this is a perfect gun selling location.
So, how 'bout it, Peggy?
Can I sell guns in this location?
I've got literally oodles of guns at home...
Thank you for shopping at Peggy's World of Books.
Oh, thank you so much for eating my free cookies.
Hello, I just came by to see...
Laura, thank goodness you're here.
I have only made one sale in the past three days
and that was just a greeting card.
Peggy, this has never been a high-volume business.
But the lease, I mean, how did you...
Oh, the executor of my parents' estate
sent a check every month
interest from some such account.
I never quite followed it.
But you shouldn't
concern yourself with that.
We worship the written word, not the almighty dollar, yes?
Oh, well, yes, of course.
And worse comes to worst
you just get your husband to write a check, right?
I'm taking one of the Joyces.
Good morning.
Word to the wise, we have
a new collection of Barbara Kingsolver's stories
that is her best in years.
Guns, I suppose.
Yes, ma'am.
Straight in back.
You know, we have a book called Old Yeller.
It's about a boy who shoots a dog.
With a gun.
Welcome, gentlemen.
The Tuesday special is Saturday Night specials.
Feel free to browse.
Uh, here at the Book and Gun
we're trying to maintain a certain...
What do you call it, Peggy?!
Ambiance.
Right. Ambiance.
So we're having cappuccino.
That's like coffee, right?
I don't know.
Oh, and if some well-dressed ladies come in
you're just here to move a piano.
What you reading there, son?
Sports page.
The sports page.
Well, all right, Bobby.
How's the Cowboy's defense...
You know, same ol', same ol'.
Ooh!
Clea, Huntress of...
I told you to get an adventure book.
But it is adventure.
"The Elf-lord Fylfendell knelt upon the bed of dandelions.
"'Young wanderer, ' quoth he, 'I have woven you
a magic breastplate..."'
Bobby, television.
Uh...
I'm going to go with, uh...
gun.
Gih!
Morning, officer.
Do you have a license to sell guns, sir?
What I sell is a lifestyle.
A life style free from...
Books!
We sell books here.
The guns are simply a promotional give-away.
Yeah.
Okay, as long as everybody leaves this store with a book.
Let me show you the stylish nine millimeter Luger
that comes free with any
$600 purchase of quality science-fiction.
Dale, Glock.
Oh, I been looking for this little girl.
Sometimes the boys like to go down in the basement
and test their piece.
But don't worry, I shut off the gas valve.
Well, shot off the gas valve.
Oh, my God...
It's the freakin' book club!
You get your skinny butt down to the basement
and pass out the silencers.
Peggy, hello.
It certainly is an...
interesting atmosphere
you've cultivated.
So, the sign says you're selling guns now?
Oh, the sign.
That old thing.
You know, the "T" fell off.
It's really supposed to say "gunst."
Surely you didn't come here today
for, for gunst.
Enjoy. Good reading.
Yes, well, these good people are here
from a historical reenactment club.
Today we are doing "America in the Time of Whitman."
What was that?
Merely the anvil of the village smithy.
Making horseshoes, no doubt.
Yes, well, we've come to place our monthly order
for the book club selection A Dinner of Onions, by...
Nora Harmony Wallace, of course.
A chronicle of three generations of an American family.
I always wondered why nobody's ever done that before.
Uh, do you have any peroxide and a clean towel?
I just shot my dang hand.
Oh, well, oh, okay.
The, uh, Confederate doctors will be here shortly
to give you ether and saw off your arm.
Actors.
Say, why don't you come to the meeting yourself?
To the book club? Really?
And bring your husband if you like.
The club is mostly couples.
Oh, yeah!
Ankle holsters all around on the house!
All right!
Hank, we are going to the book club.
Read this by Friday.
You are excused
from emptying the garbage
till this is done.
And no TV.
You won't let me read a book that I want.
Mom makes you read a book that you don't want.
That's what the elves call
"Justice of the Unicorn."
Turns out the first two chapters were a dream.
I'm not sure I trust this lady.
And what do you make of this?
Every time she cooks dinner for her father, she cries.
But it's not always onions.
Yeah, man, see, now, my dang ol' father
he gon' symbolize the past, man
and ol' dinner gon' be, like, the future, you know?
So, you're talkin' 'bout stuck in the present, you know?
Just like dang ol' English class, man.
I had onions for dinner last night.
You can get a pound for 49 cents.
"As the ambulance pulled away
"Cassie remembered the smell of onions
from her grandmother's kitchen."
The End.
Joe Jack, you awake?
I got half a mind to go to Nova Scotia
and kick that Benedict's ass, honey.
Boy, that Cassie reminds me of someone.
Hey, how big did you guys picture her ta-tas?
It said she was slender as a willow, so... grapefruits?
Come on, let's go.
If we stay in the truck too long
people are going to think we're making out.
All right, Kafka, Kafka... Born 1883, wore glasses
burdened by father, loved to sleep in.
Yes! Peggy, you are ready.
Now, if I tug my earlobe like this
just casually say that you understood
what the author was going for, but...
Then just trail off like that.
I told him, "Mister, you may be on retainer
"but if you retain your hand on my thigh like that
I will bite it off and bill you for my time."
Mm-hmm.
That is exactly like the scene at dinner
where Cassie confronts the hotel manager, yes?
Honey, I couldn't get past Chapter Three.
That writer was trying way to hard
to be Isabel Allende for my blood.
Great reference.
Isabel Allende, Chilean authoress born 1942.
My source... the Internet.
So, you say it's both efficient and clean burning?
Fascinating.
Oh, Hank, there you are.
I was just wondering if you men had noticed
the subtle change of perspective in Book Two
the way the women have.
Book... Two.
Uh, fellas, this is my wife, Peggy.
Delighted to meet you.
Is... is your ear all right, Mrs. Hill?
I, uh, understood what the author was going for.
Uh... in the book, there.
So, Mary Ellen, we had just a marvelous time.
I cannot wait to see you at the next meeting.
I was going to suggest we read
The Dust Gatherers by Nobel laureate Mkozi Mputha.
Well, actually...
I'm afraid this is the very last book club meeting.
Scheduling nightmare, you know.
The last meeting?
No, no!
We can't let this die.
Why, I could drive everyone.
Where does everyone live?
I'm sorry, Peggy.
But I'm so glad you were able to come
for the final, final, last meeting.
I can't believe it.
What am I going to do with my weekends now?
Except watch sports.
Oh, well. Peggy?
Hold on, Hank.
I need to use their powder room.
Maybe it's the ten cups of coffee I drank to stay sharp for this.
I'll get the truck.
Oh... The New Yorker.
I guess it's my fault.
She gave us such a big discount
I felt I had to invite her.
Who knew she'd be such a windbag?
As Cassie said
while the farmhouse burned brightly behind her
"I am an onion."
Good day to you.
Surely as I am Clea
and the Crystal of Gilmarrion shines upon my brow
our forces shall rally and vanquish the Goblin horde.
What say ye, Hindbottom?
Aye, my fell axe thirsts for Goblin blood
to avenge my father Borak
my swift brother Rigmar Talon-beard, my cousin...
Dang it, Bobby.
No more elves at the table.
Your mom isn't feeling well, and...
No, no, I'm fine.
All right, Dale, I am coming!
Great... time for work.
No rest for the windbag.
Thank you.
Please come again.
Oh, I got that one yesterday
with my last gun.
Oh, my God, how many guns do you need?
Thank you, come again.
Peggy, would you wipe the fingerprints off this
and wrap it, please?
I've come to take the local bookseller to lunch.
Heh... uh, Peggy?
Pull!
What the hell...?
Peggy?
Dad.
Well, look who's here.
Shopping for my birthday?
Get me something that shoots like this.
Die!
Excellent grouping, Colonel.
Plus, those hollow-points penetrated Shakespeare
all the way into the so-called "Joyous Comedies."
As You Like It?
Well, I like it plenty.
Dang it, Dale, where is my wife?
Mmm, probably on one of her smoking breaks.
I try not to keep her on too tight of a leash.
Peggy?
What are you doing down there?
Nothing.
Seems to be my mission in life.
No, your mission was about books...
Elves and onions and such.
Look at this.
Now, I'm not much in the Shakespeare department
but I still don't think he deserves to be shot at
by those monkeys down there.
And A Tale of Two Cities?
I thought that was your favorite book.
And so, a farewell to A Farewell to Arms.
Dale, your services at Peggy's World of Books
are terminated as of now.
Get out.
You can't do that.
I can, and I will.
My name is the name on the lease.
This is Peggy's World.
You just rent space in it.
Here's the key to the Dumpster.
If you don't lock it, the winos sleep in it.
They are not winos.
They are my customers, loyal customers.
I'm looking for the lady who ran the gun store.
She's out of business.
She's been referring people to Ammo World
or Crazy Jerry's.
I just wanted to know if the first two chapters
were really a dream or not.
Yeah, I wondered that myself.
Travis makes an excellent point.
Cassie's lighthouse can symbolize hope
but who's to say it doesn't also symbolize
the government's intrusion
into the lives of private citizens
as suggested by our friend here
who won't give us his name.
Cassie's grandpa wouldn't give her an evil lighthouse.
Very good point, Muskrat.
Any responses?
Well, can't we at least agree
that Mary-Elizabeth's baby was her own lighthouse?
Whoever heard of an illegitimate lighthouse?
Got-dang it, Ox, you're confusing realism
with symbolism again.
I'm about to symbolize my gun to your head.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org
What do you call it, Peggy? Ambiance.