Escape Into History

Day 247 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and Bob says he's "sifting through" The Last Stand, by Nathaniel Philbrick, and that, of course, he has read the end notes. Of course! Bob loves history, and mystery, and knowing things, and beauty, and scenery, architecture, and beverages! What doesn't Bob love?

The Amazon link above lets you click on a video of the author talking about the book, which really is about Custer's last stand, and is subtitled Custer, Sitting Bull, and the Battle of Little Bighorn. This of course puts me in mind of Little Big Man, the novel by Thomas Berger, and the film, starring Dustin Hoffman. Long time no see.  I don't actually remember ever seeing it, but something tells me I must have. Or maybe I saw half of it. Or clips....  Anyhoo!

And here is a full account of the battle itself, Wikipedia's interpretation. Each book and film will have its own.

And the Jannett Highfill poetry feature is up at Escape Into Life, under the wonderful piece you see here, by artist Sarajo Frieden. (Click her name to see more art, and to read a blurb about her.) Highfill's poems (click above!) are a wonderful mix of personal history, art history, the history of a marriage, and some recent American history (of disaster). Frieden's art is an amazing mashup of multicultural history.

The Sorrows of Middle-Aged Matchmakers

Day 246 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and Sarah is halfway through Emma, by Jane Austen, because she is on an Austen kick, as are many, many people, still, with this perennial favorite among readers.  Just today a young woman came into Babbitt's looking for "classics," meaning Jane Austen.

In addition, a gentle young man was made happy discovering other classics, and how cheap they were, and walked away, for example, with The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

I am now a bit worried about the gentle young man, as I have reminded myself of the plot of Young Werther via Wikipedia.  Aauughh, suicidal romantic youth.

It is an epistolary and autobiographical novel, although Goethe himself survived.  The book made him very famous, everybody loved and read it, the author later distanced himself from it, and that'll teach you to write about unrequited love and to write to your beloved and ask for pistols.  That is, don't!

Oh, gentle young man, maybe have the satirical Joys of Young Werther, by Friedrich Nicolai, on hand as an antidote.

Or Emma, by Jane Austen, about a sort of clueless matchmaker.  (Hence, Clueless, the film with Alicia Silverstone.)  And possibly an inspiration for The Matchmaker, by Thornton Wilder, revised from his own earlier version, The Merchant of Yonkers, with The Matchmaker then leading to Hello, Dolly, which I watched half of last night before falling asleep.

Then I woke up and attempted a little crazy middle-aged matchmaking in the fantasyland of my own clueless head.  And by email.  Please, please forgive me.  If you do, I promise not to turn my life into an epistolary musical.

One Secret Thing

Day 245 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and my mom is still reading Saving Jesus from the Church, by Robin Meyers, for a class and in preparation for the author's visit here in late October.  She is also reading plays for the play selection committee at Heartland Theatre, to help determine next year's season.

Having recovered from The Unswept Room, by Sharon Olds, I am now reading her 2008 book, One Secret Thing, and, oh my God, the long poem "War" is devastating.  It is in several parts, each separately titled, each giving us a glimpse of war through individual suffering or horror.  After this large look at war, I know the poems to come will be about the private family war documented in other poems...but I know love is coming, too, and reconciliation, and some kind of peace.  I see it in the stars.

I saw others in the bleachers reading, too, in between volleyball matches today at the Columbus Day no-school v-ball tourney...some with post-it tabs and bookmarks, but I left people to their private reading moments.

More tomorrow.

A Walk in the Cemetery

Day 244 of the "What are you reading, and why?" and Rachael is no longer reading the third book in the Anna Pigeon series by Nevada Barr, because she put it down.  She was reading this series about a Park Service ranger, because 1) she likes books about wilderness and 2) she herself was working with the National Park Service.  She read the first two books in the series, but found herself uninterested in the third and troubled by some factual errors, though not overly troubled, as she understands slights allowances might be made in fiction.

But she felt guilty not finishing a book, until her husband, a great reader, told her it was OK.  "That's what's great about a book.  You can put it down."

You might pick it up later, or at a better time, and like it more, and finish it, as Rachael did with A Walk in the Woods, by Bill Bryson.  She started that one and didn't like what he was saying about what the Park Service was doing wrong, or wasn't doing at all, but then she picked it up again when she was actually working for the Appalachian Trail--the subtitle is Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail--because the Trail people had a big display on it.  She ended up liking the book a lot, and was glad she'd read it.

Rachael is now an educator with the local history museum, and one of the coordinators of the Evergreen Cemetery Walk, so I was able to talk with her today, my last day as Helen Davis Stevenson, mother of Adlai Stevenson II.

As we walked along the cemetery path, she told me her new husband, the great reader, had read 3 books on their honeymoon!  (No joke here.  That's for a sitcom.  This is a book blog!)  Now he's reading Larry McMurtry.  And she will be reading something soon, as she has a gift certificate for Babbitt's Books.

But I also wanted to tell you about a wonderful woman I met in the cemetery Saturday morning.  She was passing through on her way from Champaign, Illinois, to Madison, Wisconsin, and had always wanted to visit the grave of Adlai Stevenson.  When she saw the signs on U.S. 51, she stopped, drove to the monument with the aid of the cemetery signs and arrows, and found the plot, the plaques, the light blue United Nations flag.

And that's where I found her as I approached.  We had a lovely chat, and I was able to show her where the actual bodies lie, Adlai next to his father and mother, his grandfather, the Vice President, set apart under a big monument.  You can see the monuments here, though the sidewalk is newer now, the flagpole out by the street path.

This woman, who is 80, had voted for Stevenson when he was presidential candidate, twice, and was sorry that we don't have people like him in politics anymore.  She is convinced that money runs things now, and people vote to hold onto their personal money.  Sounds about right.

But I see things changing, finally, gradually, some.

And then, just before I left today, I had such a nice talk with a man in a motorized wheelchair, chugging over to see a pile of walnuts.  He lives next to the cemetery, harvests the nuts, and sells them at a local farmer's market!  We talked about the big commercial walnut place in Missouri, about how walnut hulls stain the skin, and all sorts of things.  His wife is buried in the mausoleum, only a few feet away from his house, but he has a new wife now.  People are beautiful!

Well, for instance, here's Nicole Kidman, and the United Nations flag:

A Time of Passion

Day 243 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and I have been reading The Unswept Room, by Sharon Olds, because I had the opportunity and because I like her as a poet.  I've learned a lot from her.  I stand amazed at how she can write about sex, love, family dysfunction, spiritual matters.

I had heard that her marriage broke up, but I still don't know the circumstances.  There are poems in this book that just break my heart.  She is as astonished as I am.  Here are 2 lines from "A Time of Passion":

It never crossed my mind that he no longer 
loved me, that we had left the realm of love.

She's just stating it.  It is so simple and so stunning all at once.  It comes at the end of a sex poem, one of those she does so well, that, on its second read, contains all the ambivalence, threat, and evidence.  All the stuff she doesn't see while it's going on but does see as a poet, later.

I find this frightening.  It's the way the still-married couple is frightened in the play Dinner With Friends, by Donald Margulies.  It's also a movie with Andie MacDowell, Toni Collette (a favorite of mine), Dennis Quaid, and Greg Kinnear.  It might be time for me to watch that again.  I was in the play once.

In the cemetery walk, I am a woman who had an unhappy marriage.  Maybe I am too sensitive to all that right now.  Wooee.

OK, I cheered myself up.  By finding that picture of me upside down.