The Season of Hibernation and Self-Reflection Has Arrived
The cold weather has come. It is a time of tucking in. The World Series, the Autumn Classic has ended. The rapaciously, gleefully gathered Halloween is now hidden away from sibling and parental sneaking and thieving. It becomes a quieter time. Bigger holidays are ahead as the sun lowers earlier to the west. We are doing more and more things that put us on our own. One on one with whatever. And we read more.
So, How many times do we read a book or an article and along the way of that particular literary journey say or think to ourselves, “…that reminds me of me…”?
It happens often I think. I know it does to me.
Good writing not only entertains and informs us. It also casts a light on us and touches us and compels us to look within. Sometimes that look is edifying or enlightening. Sometimes that look is disturbing. Or worse.
It requires us to think.
We find ourselves reflected in the assembled words collected before us.
And those words become active, living things, reaching into us, adjusting us, changing us.
And they often push us to self-analysis.
Little wonder that throughout time man has assembled tens of thousands of collections of books and writings and held them reverently in libraries.
The substantive, voluntarily enforced retention of thinking.
It is a wonderful thing and a powerful thing as well.
I recently, with a good shove and much help and assistance from my well-organized and efficient daughter, did a serious clean up and clean out of my office upstairs and my downstairs work table and den.
It was a prodigious task that took many, many hours over more than a few weeks.
It stemmed from my daughter’s observation, as a bunch of us sat in my den watching the Braves one evening, that ‘there was just too much stuff everywhere’.
And she was right.
As I looked around, more thoughtfully than usual, I realized I had achieved the plateau one of my Mother’s favorite aphorisms.
“Enough is Enough and Too Much is Too Much.”
And in that great cleaning up and cleaning out, not only were there reams of paper and notes and records and folders that had long passed their ‘sell by date’, there were books. Lots of books.
I have had, in the past, trouble getting rid of books but I turned a corner this time.
In the vetting-hundreds had to go but a reasonable many stayed-I had to choose those books that were my dear and influential friends.
The departing were delivered to local libraries and reading stands.
And now, even though I am addicted to books, hopefully good books, and buy them constantly, I also, when finished with them, mostly give them away.
Very few stay on my Mount Olympus of Reading and Reference.
Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?
Ha!
Now, onto what I’ve been up to and of course, what I’ve been reading.
Let’s see. Football, glorious football, the finishings of baseball, the beginning of basketball, working on my next book-will involve Aiken and horses and good guys and bad guys-will open with a New York City stripper named Krispy Panko-some travel up to North Carolina, the initiation of Thanksgiving and Christmas ‘orientation’, local, state and national politics rise to the fore, visiting with friends and family, year end business and tax matters, some charitable giving, estate planning work and an emphasis on looking after my people. Finish the year strong and poised to go hard into 2024.
And of course books.
I finished a few and, as is now my wont, gave up on one about midway through. Time is short. If the book doesn’t catch me once I’m deep in, off to other places for it.
-THE SECRET HOURS by Mick Herron. The prequel to his wonderful Slough House series. It helps greatly I think to have taken a long drink out of the Slough House stack in order to see where you’re going and going back to. Luckily I have. I love Herron’s stuff. This one requires careful reading in order to see the tumblers click in to feed the future. Loved it.
-WHAT THE DEAD KNOW by Barbara Butcher. A fine read. Forensic Pathology with good up-by the-bootstraps biography as the complement. Not for the squeamish. This is live fire, not a drill.
-THE FRAUD by Zadie Smith. This is a highly acclaimed book and is the one I gave up on. Too many ruminations, all glommed and library pasted together, of a Victorian Era housekeeper and her observations on human error and venality. A Kaleidoscopic mishmash of 19th Century Woke. Intriguing at first but got boring real fast.
And also taking a different tact this time around with my reading. Instead of one or two (or even three) books going at once, here the tapas bar I’ve been noshing on. Taking a few bites at a time and savoring. Put one down and Pick one up.
-A DEATH IN THE FAMILY by James Agee. Remarkable, insightful, tender, touching, evocative. Worthy of all the praise heaped on it. Was never edited. Published posthumously after Agee died in the back of a NYC taxi cab of a heart attack while on his way to his doctor’s office. Unfiltered indeed.
-A DISTANT MIRROR by Barbara Tuchman. 14th Century France and the Middle Ages struggling to come up into fresh air and new light. She is masterful and makes the little things fit into the bigger picture.
A great writer and historian, she is lucid, sometimes slyly funny and as cogent as it gets.
-THE ONCE UPON A TIME WORLD by Jonathan Miles. The history and evolution of the French Riviera. Not all of what you think is what you’re going to get. Anthropology meets People Magazine. Pretty good soo far.
-NOTES ON AN EXECUTION by Danya Kukafka. Singingly creepy. Have to look away at times. Raw.
-Homer’s THE ILIAD, translated by Emily Wilson. The Greek Gods. Troy. Helen. Agamemnon and Achilles and Hector. Epic.
- WHY WE LOVE BASEBALL by Joe Posnanski. The History of the Game in 50 Episodes. Good writing. Good Fun. Have bought 4 extra to give as Christmas gifts.
-SOUL AT THE WHITE HEAT by Joyce Carol Oates. Essays and Ruminations on Writing. Deeply thoughtful. Little wonder she’s both great and prolific.
And there are a bunch more stacked up at the edge of my stairs and I dare not touch them just yet!
So, I will finish with this thought. I was flipping through my old, marked up copy of the virtually immortal MAN’S SEARCH FOR MEANING by Viktor Frankl. A survivor of the Nazi Death Camps who lost all his family and everything else and yet he moved forward.
His summing up is all one needs in this world.
We must have work, meaningful work. We must have love, strong all-encompassing love. We must have faith, an identifiable belief system. And we must, while always being mindful of the past, we must always look to the future. Boys and Girls, if you have those four strong pillars holding up your mental house and heart, you have got it made. It takes work. You can do it.
Everybody stay safe out there, look out for one another and keep thinking and reading.
All my best,
Vernon