The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip by George Saunders (February 2017)
I regularly walk home from Boston’s main library in Copley Square. The route varies. Sometimes, I go through the Public Garden. On others nights I will go around it. I prefer to walk down Comm Ave but I’m perfectly fine strolling down Boylston Street. If time is of the essence, I’ll ride a bike.
The route always ends the same way, though. From the intersection of Beacon and Charles streets, I walk on the left side of Charles Street until I reach Peet’s Coffee. I cross the street there, diagonally, and complete the trip home on the right side of Charles Street. I even do this on the nights I bike because Charles Street runs one-way. Rather than bike along the sidewalk or pedal illegally against the flow of traffic, I rack the bike at the Beacon and Charles intersection and walk.
I was once treated to a rare event on that final leg of the walk home. As I crossed Charles (in front of Peet’s) I was almost run over by a car driving in the wrong direction. I’ve lived in this neighborhood for almost two and a half years but this was the first time I’ve seen a car going in the wrong direction on Charles Street.
Now, the car in question was not moving at top speed. Nowhere near it. It’s possible that, were I struck by the vehicle, I would not have even fallen over. Still, I prefer not being hit by cars if at all possible- let’s call it a pet peeve of mine, shall we?
Perhaps the lack of mortal danger allowed me to recover quickly from the shock. As the feeling of the (slow-moving) breeze from the car faded from my memory, I had approximately eight quick thoughts.
THOUGHTS #1 - #4: Just some quick hitters here, really, to get going.
What the heck is that guy doing? A joyride? Just dumb? First day on the job?
THOUGHT #5: I noticed that the license plate was from out of state. I can’t remember exactly but the colors involved were yellow and blue.
Boston is a long way from home. Maybe Massachusetts is the only state with one-way roads?
THOUGHT #6: Next, I laughed, ruefully. I’m a very careful pedestrian. I wait for the walk signal, if possible, and look both ways before crossing. A jaywalking stranger brushing past me makes no impact whatsoever on my conviction to stand at the curb and wait. If time is of the essence, I might take a careful look and go for the gold.
But time is never of the essence on Charles Street.
THOUGHT #7: I was laughing at myself because I used to joke that, were I ever to get hit by a car, it would be while crossing a one-way street. This was because I never look both ways.
Why would I? The threat only comes from one direction. Do I look up for falling pianos when I wander around town?
Exactly.
THOUGHT #8: This thought was back to the basics, so to speak, of my first thought.
What an idiot! Doesn’t he know it's a one-way street?
But as I looked around, it occurred to me that perhaps he didn’t.
The stoplight pointed in the one correct direction and thus there was no mechanism for someone driving the wrong way to know to stop. Charles Street, like any one-way, has a number of ‘no turn’ and ‘do not enter’ signs. Still, it’s perfectly reasonable that someone might miss those, especially at night. And if a streetlight was broken, it might not even be possible to see some of these signs.
I resumed my walk home, now on the right side of the street, and mulled some more. Was it a self-driving car? Should I expect to see a news item about a massive GPS recall tomorrow? Would I have been hit if this were last June, when I was still wearing headphones in the streets? Had I ever driven the wrong way down a street? Would they have built a statue of me in front of Peet's had I perished just moments ago? Only to the last question did I have a definite answer.
My walk home down Charles always ends the same way. I reach the end of the street, turn right, and walk the final block to my front door. I always get a clear view of Mass General Hospital at this point. In fact, I basically live next door to MGH.
As I turned onto my block, it occurred to me that the fastest way to get to MGH for anyone living on or near Charles Street would involve a straight line down the one-way street. It would be the wrong way, mind, but that's the fastest way. I’m sure many have taken the legally-preferred circuitous route that incorporates Storrow Drive or braved the labyrinthine grid of one-way streets that make up Beacon Hill to get to MGH, a safe yet time consuming prospect. But what would these drivers have done if time was of the essence?
It comes naturally, I think (or perhaps we are so well trained), to automatically assume the worst intentions. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, I’ve been told (a statement I accept despite never having seen a dog eat a dog, although one time at a Fourth of July cookout...never mind). People are always hustling, looking for anything that helps them get ahead. If they have to step on your back to boost themselves, be on alert because they’ll do it with both feet.
And so we wander on, up and down the Charles Streets of our own neighborhoods, passing judgment on the out-of-line and using isolated actions as proof of character traits. A driver who makes the wrong turn is an idiot. It’s a tough habit to break. Full understanding and rightful conviction is always more satisfying than ambiguity. Actions divided into ‘the right’ and ‘the wrong’ are simple to understand. Disagreement grows out of entrenched positions and the shared underlying interests are ignored or dismissed.
Reading this picture book, written by George Saunders and ably illustrated by Lane Smith, caused me to remember this little walking incident. Over the course of a few minutes, I considered new possibilities. I came to a couple of reasonable explanations for why anyone might drive the wrong way down Charles Street. And, perhaps most importantly, I understood that in certain cases I would do the same.
The book addresses that lesson at an audience that might have a little difficulty understanding it- kids. It uses the setting of a three-family village and examines how they react to the misfortunes that befall their families and their neighbors. What the final lesson lacks in originality is more than made up for in the kindness and compassion that shines from its final pages.
A society where people drive any which way would be chaotic. If the very rules that bind society are optional, the society itself is sure to crumble. But the rules were put in place to serve everyone living there. If breaking them accomplishes the same goal, then so be it.
I think of the ideal society as one that finds- and maintains- the balance. The rules are in place and the rule-breakers must face justice of some kind. But there should also be an understanding that if someone breaks a rule, they do so knowingly and do so because accepting the consequences leads to a better outcome for everyone. This society would seek to understand the rule-breaker and try to address the underlying motivation, whether it be a lack of resources, a medical emergency, or just simple confusion from a poorly lit road.
Do books like this help build such a society? I don't know. The target audience is a third my age. I'm pretty sure at that point in my life this book would have made no change to my lifestyle or worldview. But it probably would not have steered me toward becoming a cold-hearted jerk, either.
And having read it now, I again understand that although the immediate effect of reading is negligible, I am able to point back to examples I've witnessed of the various behaviors the characters exhibit in this story. The lesson is probably useful to reinforce from time to time just for this result. At the very least, the next time I see someone going the wrong way down Charles Street, I'll be a little more inclined to offer my help.
Assuming I don't get hit by the car first, of course.
