Several years ago I experimented with weekly snapshots of what I was doing/thinking about/reading/watching at the time. I don’t have the stamina to keep up with such weekly posts, but I’m experimenting with a monthly format. If you enjoy this, please share it on your favorite social media platform to help others find my work.
Gloria’s Heart:
When I read Gloria Steinem‘s memoir My Life On the Road in 2018, I was struck by how much ink she devoted to other people. Steinem didn’t hesitate to express outrage where it was due. But in a book about her own life, Steinem, who passed away earlier this month at the age of 92, primarily took the high road, and generously expressed gratitude and admiration to many who had influenced or inspired her. Steinem spent much of her life traveling, by necessity and by choice, and My Life On the Road, as the title implies, largely reflected on that experience. I’ve moved around a lot in my own life and have rarely felt truly settled. Steinem’s words, as much as her example, inspire me to be more accepting of my perpetually uprooted nature:
"Living things have evolved as travelers. Even migrating birds know that nature doesn't demand a choice between nesting and flight. On journeys as long as twelve thousand miles, birds tuck their beaks under wings and rest on anything from ice floes to the decks of ships at sea. Then, once they arrive at their destination, they build a nest and select each twig with care."
I Can’t Dance:
As much as I love music, I can barely walk in a straight line without tripping. Which helps explain why I was so impressed by the god-like Patrick Swayze when I first saw Dirty Dancing back in 1987. (I was equally impressed by the goddess-like Jennifer Grey for entirely different reasons. Her mambo practice on the lakeside steps over the Surfaris‘ “Wipe Out” remains an iconic film image for me.) Dirty Dancing grabbed me from the opening credits, with Ronnie Spector‘s indelible voice crooning over black-and-white images of exuberant dancers. When I re-watched Dirty Dancing earlier this month, I was impressed with how well the movie holds up, and this time I noticed details I hadn’t previously: conscientious Baby, planning to join the Peace Corps, reads Plight of the Peasant by Gregg MacPherson (a fictional book, as far as I can tell) and is the only one who steps up to help a staff member carry her family’s luggage. Conversely, the dude-bro who abandons the pregnant Penny reads that eternal faux-philosophy of wingnuts, the dreadful and pretentious The Fountainhead. It took me a while to understand that Baby’s real education isn’t getting deflowered by dudes, but an awakening to the messiness of the real world. Becoming immersed in discrimination faced by the “lower” classes (“the dance people”) at the Catskills resort is a good first step toward mastering one of life’s great lessons: the problems of the world are easily solved from a distance, but much more complex for those who are actually living them. You can’t truly understand others until you’ve danced a few steps in their shoes.
(Hannah Marriott at The Guardian really loves Dirty Dancing: Check out her recent essay!)
Marini’s Wall:
On a recent trip to Paris, my hotel room was decorated with something more interesting that the usual boring “hotel art.” Apparently the print (poorly photographed below) is “Red Rider” from a 1955 painting by Italian artist Marino Marini (1901 – 1980). I wasn’t familiar with Marini but now I want to learn all about his life and work; the online biographies I’ve found so far are quite brief. Marini was best known as a sculptor, creating realist works early on, but transitioning to a more abstract style as his career progressed. A figure on horseback was a frequent theme in his paintings and sculptures. The image below right shows Marini’s 1960 sculpture “Warrior.”
Style of Giants:
For years, I’ve been curious about the work of prolific Welsh novelist Ken Follett. I’ve read rave reviews of his work since at least Eye of the Needle (1978), though he had published several novels before that. Finally, I’m starting out with Fall of Giants, published in 2010 and the first of his Century Trilogy. The story follows members of five diverse families and a number of historic figures through World War I and the Russian Revolution. The prose is strictly conventional, with no showy or flowery language and straightforward sentences; the plot is equally conventional, describing known historic events and the types of personal dramas that will be well familiar to readers of historical fiction. Other than the extensive cast of characters, on first glance it might be easy to dismiss Fall of Giants as simplistic. Yet I find it fascinating, a genuine page-turner with interesting characters and immersive historic details. I’m eager to read the rest of the trilogy, and I’m getting a much better understanding of why Follett is so widely beloved by readers.
Have a good October and be safe!
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