History, Repeating
I seem to be dissociating from current events and the world at large, and this dissociation is manifesting in strange ways. I have entirely eschewed my old self-care and beauty podcasts in favour of either Sweet Valley High recaps OR extremely detailed historical analysis of terrible world events. My downloads are unhinged. An episode of Elizabeth’s desire to go to boarding school in Switzerland is followed by a graphic explanation on the mechanics of crucifixion, both of which are topics I have thought about since I was a child. A four-part series on the causes, effects, and economic impacts of the American Civil War is followed by deep dive into the book Secret Admirer, when a prank personal ad in the Sweet Valley Oracle, which leads to some awkward encounters and hurt feelings. I honestly don’t know if I’m losing my mind or saving my sanity.
If you’re wondering, the exact cause of death from crucifixion is a combination of dehydration, exhaustion, and suffocation. Also, birds had a field day with the eyes and genitals of the crucified. On that gruesome note, which may or may not be appropriate for Lent, I will move on.
Let Us Be Elegant Or Die
Speaking of the American Civil War, my son gave me this puzzle for Christmas.
The border is made up of quotes from the book, and it has one of my all-time favourite quote, one that I have thought of lo these forty plus years since I first read Little Women.
The full quote is dear me, let us be elegant or die and I think about that at least once a week while getting dressed.
Another quote that has been burned on my brain since childhood comes from Anne of Ingleside, which is one of my least-favourite Anne books but contains one of the funniest scenes of all time. Here’s the setup: Gilbert’s aunt, Mary Maria, comes for a visit, and ends up staying for months. Seasons pass, and this houseguest – who is passive-aggressive, rearranges the furniture, and dramatically takes to her bed with the slightest provocation – is STILL THERE. Anne, with her usual determinedly joyful outlook, decides to throw Aunt Mary Maria a surprise party for her birthday, which is NOT well received by the birthday girl, who is incensed that now everyone knows her advanced age, which is fifty-five. Fifty-five! Anyway, she leaves in a huff, to the relief of everyone. But the quote I have thought of all these years comes when Susan, the housekeeper, has made four cakes. She says “When we give a party, we give a party.” I think of this literally any time we have people over. We give a party. If only I had four cakes!
In that book and the previous one, Anne’s House of Dreams, we are introduced to one of the greatest character in all of children’s fiction. Her signature quote, “Isn’t that just like a man?” is something I think of every day of my life.
Long Island Compromise?
My friend Birchie (HI BIRCHIE) was writing about workouts and the feeling that it is a constant cycle of hard work and exhaustion with no clear end game. I have mentioned before my downward trajectory, where fitness is concerned; it can be very disheartening. But on the other hand, practicing non-attachment and having zero goals when it comes to fitness can be very freeing. I suppose that’s an inaccurate statement; I don’t have ZERO goals. My goal is to continue to be mobile, ambulatory, and to heft my own carryon into the overhead compartment on a plane. If I ask one of the guys to empty Rex’s 35 pound bag of dog food into the lidded container, it’s because I’m lazy, not because I can’t do it. All of these things are a bit nebulous, and they lack the urgency of a specific outcome by a specific time.
The nebulous goals and non-attachment are working well for me, so that I can just enjoy the time I spend walking, practicing yoga, or on the Peloton. A few weeks ago there was a woman on the leaderboard with the name McKinzieWithAnI, and I read that as McKinzie With Anal. Wow, I thought, That’s really advertising your preferences until I realized that it was a spelling thing.
It must be fairly common these days to go through life with that particular verbal tic of spelling one’s name immediately after divulging it. Back in the Sweet Valley High days, it would be mostly confined to Sara(h)s and C(K)atherines, with the occasional C(S)heryl, although I have had to specify the no H spelling in my own name a few times in my fifty years. I also automatically say “That’s M-A-C” immediately after divulging my last name. I would assume that automatic spellings would be the norm now: is it Jaxon or Jackson? Cailen or Kaelin or Kaylyn or Kaelynn? Ciaran or Kieran? Ashley or Ashlee or Ashleigh? Madeleine or Madelyn or Madilynn? McKenzie or MacKenzie or McKinzie? With an I!
Weekly Reading
The world is upside down. Let the record show that this week I read – and enjoyed – not one, not two, but THREE books penned by male authors. And not just male authors: heterosexual white male authors. I know what you’re thinking. Finally, FINALLY, someone is giving straight white men a moment in the sun! Let’s hear it for the boys!
Grace and Henry’s Holiday Movie Marathon. A holiday romance in March? The heart wants what it wants, or, more accurately, the library holds come in when they come in. Let me tell you, this book is an absolute delight. It was just pure happiness, this story about two widowed people who, dreading the first holiday seasons without their respective spouses, strike up a friendship by watching holiday movies together. OBVIOUSLY the friendship becomes more than that, but this book is more than that too – it’s about love and loss and grief and how no marriage is perfect. Plus there is a dog named Harry Styles. How can you resist? Yes, I know it’s March, but this holiday romance is perfect any time of the year. It’s delightful, no notes.
Abundance. Did I follow a holiday romance with a non-fiction book about unaffordability and the climate crisis? Yes. This is an excellent, well-researched read about some big issues facing the US, namely the housing crisis, climate change, and shortages of all kinds. It delves into the economics of progress and the failures of institutions to focus on forward movement. It’s well-written and accessible. Also I learned that cement production is responsible for 8% of the world’s CO2 emissions. 8%!!! I had no idea.
Brideshead Revisited. I confess I would have never picked up this book about a disillusioned army man who comes across the estate of a large country house during World War II, and finds himself reminiscing about his complicated and extensive relationships with the former inhabitants of that same estate, had I not heard it mentioned on The Rest is History. Evelyn Waugh (ROUGH name for a man, I am sorry to say) wrote this while on medical leave from the army, and so it feels rather like auto-fiction. Which, perhaps shows that Waugh was not quite as straight as one might imagine, given the storylines. Also, he had married a woman named Evelyn, which would lead to some awkwardness, I would think. Anyway, the book itself is quite entertaining, if you’re interested in English country life in the 1920s and 30s, which I am.
Wow, I do not know if I could have gotten three more different books this week!
How are you coping with things, friends? I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves. xo
