Showing posts with label books - i miss you when i blink. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books - i miss you when i blink. Show all posts

Thursday, November 26, 2020

toa rewind - thanksgiving riff-off (leftovers - i miss you when i blink)

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.

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

reading review - i miss you when i blink

This collection, which I've seen described as "memoir-in-essay", was an easy read - almost a perfect fit for my esteemed "just before bedtime" category. I remember enjoying many of these short essays but I didn't note any specific chapters, suggesting that these didn't go much further than retelling a series of moments in the author's life, captured with humor and, perhaps unexpectedly for me, relatability. 

I Miss You When I Blink by Mary Laura Philpott (September 2019)

I related to this book - even as it explored foreign topics like perfectionism, parenting, or a total incomprehension about sports - because Philpott frames her experiences in broad terms, seemingly effortlessly, using general reference points that cut across a wide range of circumstances. In one section, for example, she notes that it's best to respect a "probationary period" with a new group, an idea that puts her specific story in a context that likely applies far beyond the details of her anecdote. This same theme is evident in how she describes the isolation of parenthood as losing out on small things - like being called your own name - or how small talk is problematic as soon as it replaces real talk; the details of time and place suggest we are all living vastly different lives from one another, but at the core we all share certain needs - to be seen, heard, and accepted - that form connections from one person to another, which can be explored in the manner we choose to tell our stories.

This is not to suggest that our differences don't matter at all - Philpott herself suggests taking time to think about the ways someone's life differs from ours. It's advice I see reflected in her observation about parenting - it's important to help children identify their own potential by observing their response to new experiences and encouraging them to continue their exploration, but this isn't possible for parents who see a child as an extension of themselves. It's also a good tactic in the moments after a revelation, as our first instinct may be to address our main concern - ask instead for clarification, an idea I agreed with because it reflects my belief that our selfishness, indulged at the expense of acknowledging or respecting our differences, does far more to drive us apart than the consequences of any single event. 

TOA Rating: Three blinks out of four.

My book notes - as mentioned above - were missing references to specific essays, but I did take the unusual step of writing down specific quotes, such as "it looks like the ass end of destruction in here" or "it's a front, but it preserves friendships". I'm not sure what the latter referred to, but I don't think it matters - we can all relate to the ways we give in to maintain the peace; thank you for reading.