Sad but Excited

J.D. Salinger died on Wednesday, January 27. I hadn’t even realized that he was still alive. Since he was a recluse and hadn’t published anything since 1965, he may as well have been dead for all the difference it made to his readers. But now, as the news of his death spreads, so too does the rumor of unpublished stories. They say he continued to write for his own enjoyment. They say there may be more masterpieces. So I’m sorry that he’s dead of course, because it’s sad when anyone goes, especially someone with so much talent, but I’m excited about the possibility of more of his work being published.

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A Time for Goals

I didn’t mean to leave yesterday’s post on such a downbeat note, but I only have so much time for posting each day and I had run out.

My younger self might be disappointed about how my life has turned out, but that’s something I can fix.

When we were young we had dreams. As we grew older, we either lived our dreams, clung to them determinedly without doing anything to make them a reality, or gave them up. I clung to mine for years, but now I find that some of them just don’t suit me anymore, and I also realize how much better it would be to replace them with goals. Like they say, a goal is a dream with a deadline. A goal is something that you can actually achieve by taking a series of planned steps, while a dream is just a nebulous vision for which you have no means of approach. Having an unrealized dream means living in a perpetual state of procrastination, and that’s just not good for anyone.

So I’m sweeping all my old, cobwebby dreams out the door. I don’t need them anymore and they’re taking up space in my already too-cluttered brain. From now on, I have goals.

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Disappointed in Myself

On this day…

I have been thinking about the past. Joining Facebook brought me back in contact with people I hadn’t talked to in 15-20 years. One of those people recently posted some pictures from our teen years. That got me interested in looking at my own photo albums and while hunting for them I found my old diaries. I leafed through one of them. The entries were painful to read.  If I could, I would tell my old self, “There’s more to life than boys. Stop obsessing about getting a boyfriend and go do something. Then maybe you won’t be so damned depressed!”

But what would the teenage me think of my current life?

I’m sure she would be relieved to know that I finally got a boyfriend. And given the difficulties I had in school, she would be glad that I earned a degree from a good university. But some aspects of my life would puzzle her.  “Why,” she would say, “do you live in Rhode Island? I mean, if you had to leave CT, couldn’t you at least have gone somewhere more interesting? And if you were going to have a kid, why the heck did you wait so long?” I used to think I’d get married in my early twenties and have my first child around 26!

Would she be disappointed in me? I haven’t written any music or books or done anything terribly inventive. My life is average. She never thought she was average. She may have felt inferior in some ways but she also believed herself to be special. So yes, I think she’d be disappointed.

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On This Day

I think I need to start writing every day, even if it’s just a sentence or two, just something to say, “Hey, I was here all day on this wacky planet we call Earth. And to prove it, here is something that I did, or said, or thought on this day…”

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About a Girl

Girl With a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier
Grade: B+

Girl With a Pearl Earring is a fictionalized account of how the famous Vermeer painting of the same name came to be. The Girl is a young Protestant woman named Griet. Her father was blinded in a horrible accident, and now she must support her family by working as a maid for the Catholic family of Johannes Vermeer.

Note: spoilers ahead.

I was immediately inclined to like Griet, because she had her own special way of looking at things. After cutting up vegetables for stew, she arranged them in a circle so that each type had its own section, “like a slice of pie.” She separated the orange and purple because, as she said, “The colors fight when they are side by side.” She also found clever ways to clean and dust Vermeer’s studio while making it look like she hadn’t moved anything. She was a smart, responsible girl and she knew her place.

But in order to believe the story, you must perceive Griet as a woman of passionate feelings. That is one way in which the novel failed. Griet would do something that seemed passionate, like slap someone, but she remained emotionally detached. For example, she felt that if she wore her hair free that it would let out her passionate side. When Vermeer accidentally saw her hair, she suddenly abandoned all propriety, went out to find her boyfriend, and let him have his way with her in an alleyway. All she said about the experience was this—“He gave me pain, but when I remembered my hair loose around my shoulders in the studio, I felt something like pleasure too. Afterwards, . . . I washed myself with vinegar.”

Vermeer, too, should have been passionate in order to paint as he did, and yet he was distant and decidedly unlikable in the way he commanded people to do his bidding with no consideration of the consequences. There was a climatic scene where Griet asked Vermeer to place the pearl earring into her ear. It was presumably supposed to be a symbolically sexual act, but since we had just read about how her ear was swollen and infected, it wasn’t entirely pleasant to imagine. It was in other ways an unsatisfactory love scene. Vermeer forced her to pierce her other ear (the one that isn’t shown in the painting), then he quickly finished the painting and sent her on her way. This was no thrilling sexual experience for Griet. It was wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

There were some other things that were hard to believe. As Griet told us early on, “It was not a house where secrets could be kept easily.” Yet most of the people in the house had secrets, some of which were kept for the duration of the novel. I found myself often wondering how Griet could assist Vermeer in making his paints without the whole world knowing. She reeked of linseed oil, her hands almost certainly must have been stained, and she disappeared for hours on end, and yet most of the family members didn’t notice.

I also found myself puzzled by some of the social details, such as the class and religious differences between Griet’s family and the Vermeers, and why Griet’s mother had to put aside her pride in the matter of Griet dating a butcher’s son. I blame my own ignorance, but then again, how can the average person be expected to know much about the society of 17th century Delft? A little more help from the author would have been appreciated.

So, after complaining about these things, how come it still gets a decent grade? I enjoyed it overall and I think that it is an educational book. I feel like I could now recognize at least a few of Vermeer’s paintings, and I will remember details about where and when he lived. The story is helping to keep that information in my brain in a way that simply reading the names and dates could not. There is a lot of value in that, and I recommend Girl With a Pearl Earring for that reason.

P.S. I also watched the movie version starring Colin Firth and Scarlett Johannson, and I recommend it because Firth is the master of the smoldering look and he puts it to excellent use here.

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Good Fortune

We had Chinese food for dinner the other night and I liked the fortune that came in my fortune cookie. I looked for the little scrap of paper today because I wanted to share that precious pearl of Ancient Chinese wisdom here on my blog, but I could not find it. When I asked my husband if he knew where it was, he said, “You mean the one that Peeps ate?”

Is there anything our cats won’t eat?

Anyway, the fortune said something like this: when you make a mistake, don’t think that you’re the mistake.

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The Last from 2009

Here is the last of the 2009 books (phew!).

The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie
Grade: B+

Morning has come and what a day is in store for Colonel and Mrs. Bantry, because there’s a dead body in their library! Mrs. Bantry immediately calls upon her old friend, Miss Marple, to solve the mystery before the community’s suspicions become permanently fixed on Colonel Bantry. Continue reading

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My Political Contribution

I’m so disappointed with the Democratic Party that I’m thinking about leaving it, but I’m not interested in any of the other nationally known parties, so I’ve decided to create my own. It’s called the CanMexAmerican Party.  The sole goal of this new political party is the unification of Canada, Mexico, and the United States into a single country called the United States of CanMexAmerica. Together we would have all the oil, cheap labor, and attitude necessary to ensure our status as the dominant world power. 😉

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The Marplethon Moves On

The Mousetrap (a.k.a. Three Blind Mice and Other Stories) by Agatha Christie
Grade: A

I enjoyed this collection of short stories by Agatha Christie. She had a good sense of humor and I agreed wholeheartedly with the character named Giles in the story “Three Blind Mice” when he said, “The trouble is that practically everything one does nowadays is illegal.” Ha-ha. In addition to that story, there are four Marples (“Strange Jest,” “Tape-Measure Murder,” “The Case of the Perfect Maid,” “The Case of the Caretaker.”), three Poirots (“The Third-Floor Flat,” “The Adventure of Johnny Waverly,” “Four and Twenty Blackbirds”) and one tale featuring a lesser-known character named Harley Quin (“The Love Detectives”). The short-story format works well for the genre and also makes for easy reading. I’m even half tempted to keep this book. Perhaps I will.

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Out With the Old

I need to finish writing about the books of 2009 so I can move on to the books of 2010 (of which there are already 3!). So here’s another 2009er.

Death in Zanzibar by M.M. Kaye
Grade: F

The main character, Dany, is traveling to Zanzibar. She’s very excited about the trip but has a scary dream (ooh–subtle use of foreshadowing!) and then, when she wakes up…

Dany shivered again. A shiver of pure delight that ended unexpectedly in a quiver of unease: a sense of disquiet so sharply urgent that she turned quickly, half expecting to find someone standing behind her. But nothing moved except the curtains billowing idly in the dawn wind, and of course there was no one there. And no one watching her! It was only the effect of that silly dream about people following her…

This scene takes place at a hotel in London, where she next accidentally locks herself out of her room while wearing only a diaphanous nightgown. She is “rescued” by the guy staying in the room across the hall. His name is Lash (short for Lashmer). He’s only just returned from a night out on the town and he’s still completely plastered. When Dany gets back into her room, she finds that someone has stolen her passport and planted a gun among her things. Then she reads the newspaper. Someone she saw yesterday is now dead of a gunshot wound and a young lady matching Dany’s description is wanted by the police for questioning. Geez. This is going to put a crimp in her plans.

“No!” said Dany on a sob. “Oh no! I can’t stay here. I won’t. I will go to Zanzibar. They shan’t stop me.”

So Dany again asks for help from the man across the hall. Lash, who is also traveling to Zanzibar, suggests that she impersonate his secretary all the way there, and even gives her his secretary’s passport to use. And Dany agrees to this scheme, because Dany is such an innocent that she doesn’t recognize drunkenness when she sees it and doesn’t realize how crazy and illegal such a course of action is.

Talk about preposterous. But it gets worse.

I must be going out of my mind! thought Dany, astounded at herself. And anyway, he’s in love with that Gordon woman, and he’s been drinking himself silly because she threw him over. He doesn’t care one bit what happens to me. All he wants to do is get rid of me as soon as possible. He’s selfish and stupid and spoiled and egotistical, and he drinks. And drinks!

But it was no use. She could not even feel indignant about it, and she still wanted to stroke his hair and comfort him. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, thought Dany. I suppose this is it!

By “it” our dear Dany means love. She has fallen in love with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Drunken.

And she hasn’t even gotten to Zanzibar yet!

What happens next? I assume she gets to Zanzibar, has a couple of close brushes with death, solves the mystery, and then snuggles up with her new honey, Lash. But I don’t know because I didn’t finish the book.

Originally, I wasn’t even going to mention Death in Zanzibar let alone grade it, but then I changed my mind. If it turned me off that much, doesn’t that mean it failed? And isn’t that what the grade “F” is for?

Typically I give a book three chances to win me over. I call it my “three strikes and you’re out” rule. It’s a good rule for me because sometimes I just can’t get into a particular book at a particular time. Both Bronte’s Jane Eyre and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy got two strikes each. Now they are both favorites and I’m glad I gave them another try. So why not give Death in Zanzibar three tries? Because it’s not a classic and it belongs to a genre that’s known to contain a lot of garbage. And look at the parts I quoted. Doesn’t it look like garbage?

P.S. Sorry, M.M. Kaye, for calling your book garbage. I still love some of your other books.

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