Folks, today's a holiday, which means I'm not up for writing anything new, but I recognize that there might be more time than usual for some TOA nonsense; it's kind of the paradox of the holidays, I suppose, which was true even before COVID and all its associated challenges. So, for those in need of an extra helping of traditional TOA nonsense, let's crank up the rewind machine, and have a look at some throwbacks through a classic riff-off.
We'll take these from a few notes I set aside while putting together Tuesday's reading review of Mary Laura Philpott's I Miss You When I Blink; these leftover ideas all reminded me of something I've written about in the past, so I'll include a "TOA Rewind" link to the associated post.
As always, the thought from the book notes is in italics.
Babies are the closest thing we have to real magic - one second there was no one, and then suddenly they are here.
This note reminded me of John O'Donohue's Four Elements, a book I reviewed in May 2018. The section 'Death' in my post contains a very similar thought to Philpott's comment about babies. I think many of us wonder about where we go when we die, but I believe it was O'Donohue who turned the question around - where do babies come from when they are born? If I recall correctly, the answer made me laugh, despite being somewhat unsatisfying - babies come from where we'll go, when we die.
People should give directions in a way the recipient will be able to make use of them. Go east a mile? Make sure they have a compass.
I think Philpott missed the mark on this insight. Sure, she makes a good point, but in my mind most people who ask for directions are resigned to defeat from the moment they ask for help. I mused on this phenomenon a couple of years ago, when a decisively lost tourist suddenly took off just as I'd started describing the exact shape of concourse outside South Station, leaving me to shout in vain at the back of his head as he disappeared into a crowd headed toward the Boston Common. I'm sure he found Chinatown, eventually; if I've managed it at 3AM after a few pops, I'm sure anyone with basic cartography skills and the bare minimum of resilience could eventually figure it out.
Acknowledging hard combinations means accepting that one truth cannot always win out over another. You can love being here and want to leave.
This looks like a tribute to a George Saunders quote, who I once saw read from Lincoln in the Bardo; he made quite a few memorable remarks at that reading, but didn't add to the thought from the quote (he talked quite a bit about one of his characters having a huge penis, which for some reason I couldn't find on the Goodreads quoteboard).
The note I highlighted from I Miss You When I Blink is a strong observation, but it lacks the power of Saunders's quote in the context of creative work; his comment is an acceptable thesis statement for the artistic process. I wrote about it in September 2018, a post that I believe at best gets an A for effort, which is my way of saying "read it at your own risk". For the TLDR crowd, I'll note that it did contain a fairly memorable attempt at articulating my life philosophy - "You grow up, try to do the right thing, find out you were wrong a few times, and then die." When I get my Goodreads quoteboard going, I'll get that posted on page one.
Show me mercy, from the powers that be; show me mercy, can someone rescue me?
The stated purpose of this book was Philpott's attempt to examine how her life, or perhaps the way she saw her own life, needed to change after she realized the futility of defining success by ticking off all the boxes on the "right things" checklist - career, house, family. I suspect the key moment in the journey was that minute, the longest sixty seconds of anyone's life, where you feel completely trapped by the irresistible force that has complete dominion over your destiny, and no, I'm not referring to voting machines...
...what...?
OK, fine.
That's not a thought from I Miss You When I Blink, those are lyrics from 'Mercy' by Muse, which to the spirit of this post I did write about back in the summer; the post included this link to what I feel is their best performance of the song. This is a riff-off, after all - who better to end it than Muse?
Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the day, and thanks for reading.
