Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
Election madness.
There are just far too many elections going on at the moment for my liking – US Federal, Canadian Federal and BC Municipal – all in the next 2 months. Cringe and cover time people!
Elections really get me down – although I vote, and sometimes even campaign for the people I like – I just view them as more stress, more work, and another diversion from getting down to the things that matter. The federal election being an example very specific to my union work: there is a very good chance the collective bargaining will be cancelled or at the very least slowed until November as a result of Harper’s election call. And for what? Another minority government with the same composition? I think Canadians could have waited another year for that.
There’s something about an election that just reminds me of how powerless the process is. As Douglas’ speech above points out, it’s just fat cats and more fat cats – and these days we don’t even have a credible socialist alternative to buoy us (as far as I’m concerned the NDP is just another bunch of cats). I want it to be different, you know. I really do. But every election where I get even moderately excited about a particular candidate or leader only results in disappointment after the election is over.
Take Layton for example. I always vote NDP if I vote at all, and when Layton won the party leadership a few years ago I thought – okay, he talks well, seems to be getting down to the brass tacks of class, etc. etc. I was cautiously optimistic that perhaps he could bring some dynamism to the federal NDP for a change. A small hope.
But honestly – the fact Layton has spent three years talking about little more than ATM fees and the outrage of paying for text messaging? Are his advisors serious? Or just lining up Layton and co. to be the cranks of Parliament Hill? What about the nightmare of housing prices? The loss of arable land (and thus food security) to industrial development? The deregulation resulting in outbreaks of illness? The fact that Harper has muzzled the bureaucracy and is running the least accountable government in decades?
Oh no. ATM fees. Because that’s what Canadians are really concerned about. How insulting.
(To be fair, he has expended some of his precious talk time on Arctic sovereignty which I admit is a tad more interesting – but at the end of the day, working people don’t really care that much. And the NDP is supposedly our party – that would be the party of mice, not cats).
But it’s been a long time since any politician actually spoke the language of regular folks to the degree needed to moblize their vote. And I suspect that the biggest failure of this election campaign will be reflected in low voter turnouts. Why bother even listening when nothing is going to change? Why bother going to the polls early for more of the same? It gets me down people, it really does.
Which is why I’m trying my hardest to ignore the big picture, and just focus on my local candidate who I like (yay Libby!) Because otherwise I might end up not voting at all.
Selected readings from the summer.
Last night I got a full night’s sleep for the first time in about two weeks – between Brian’s illness and mine there has been much tossing and turning between us – so much so that the last three nights I have said *Enough!* and reclused into my own home with the hope of shaking the end of this cold. Almost there I think. A cough and a sniffle and another few sleeps should do it.
In the meantime I have returned to work and have spent the last day processing the issues that filled up my inboxes (mail, voice, email) in my absence. I’m realizing now that I have so little to say about anything going on in my life – so perhaps it is a day for book reviews – since the one thing I have done a lot of lately is reading. Reading, and rearranging my shelves at home to accomodate the many new books that entered my life this summer. Back in July I encountered a garage sale in my neighbourhood at which every book was 50 cents – so not only was my supply steady over the holidays, but it cost me a lot less than normal. In any case, here are some of my summer reads.
Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly | Anthony Bourdain
The insider’s guide to the world of professional cookery, Bourdain tells the straight story about what’s really going on in kitchens while recounting his own biographical journey through the world of food. He’s got a good sense of humour which makes this readable, though this collection of chapters would have been better pitched as an essay series than as a single narrative work. A tad disjointed. And certainly overblown in terms of bad behaviour – it must be noted that even Bourdain realizes that he is a tad excessive compared to others.
The Yiddish Policeman’s Union | Michael Chabon
I normally don’t bother reviewing books I can’t finish – but in this case I am in order to tell you not to bother. It’s not that the writing is poor. It’s not that the story is uninteresting. But something about this book made it a dreadful ready and I suspect that has something to do with the disjuncture between the writing and the story. The story being gumshoe detective with a twist, and the writing being densely literary. The mismatch, I’m afraid, makes this a struggle to read and I put it down after about three-quarters through. I just couldn’t make myself read to the end despite the fact I wanted to see how it turned out – which isn’t like me at all.
Woman’s Inhumanity to Woman | Phyllis Chesler
A book of case studies that essentially underline the fact that women are perpetuators of patriarchal behaviour just as much as men. Interesting, well-written and full of useful illustrations of how this plays out in familial, social and professional situations. Worthwhile if you’re into feminist analysis or a woman leader in a union wondering why your biggest attackers are other women (that would be me). Apparently it’s systemic. Who knew?
The Habit of Loving | Doris Lessing
Garage-sale find – a 1960s paperback edition of this collection of Lessing’s short stories. Truly, she is a gifted writer on every level and this first experience with her short stories left me very pleased. Intimate, witty, concise. But even better were all the reviews on the back of the book claiming Lessing to be “as good a writer as any man”. Thankfully, these things don’t get printed on bookjackets anymore, though I wouldn’t be surprised if many reviewers still think it.
The Paperboy | Pete Dexter
No great work of literature, but an enjoyable read. Dexter situates this legal drama in the Florida swamps and prisons of the late 1960s, as an investigative reporter returns home with his partner at the behest of some letters sent by a woman convinced that her “boyfriend” is innocent of the crime he has been convicted of. With little to go on, the reporters trace the story back, unravelling their own lives in the process. There are no heroes in this novel, only survivors of the story they untangle.
White Teeth | Zadie Smith
Opening with an attempted suicide, Smith has crafted a novel in which she puts all her characters through the rigorous paces of growing together and up as multiracial families in Britain from 1975 on. A family epic of unusual proportions, Smith’s tale takes into scope Jamaican slave-history, doomsday religion (JW), World War Two, the failure of a certain Bengali uprising, genetic engineering, the ethics of kidnapping one’s own child, islamic militancy, the motivations of liberatl do-gooders, radical animal liberation actions, and the domestic politics of families – multiracial and otherwise. She’s funny, this Zadie Smith, and incisive. A book to definitely enjoy.
The Almost Moon | Alice Sebold
You can read what I wrote about this one here.
Border Crossing | Pat Barker
I really admire Pat Barker’s ability to tell a story that is sufficiently compelling without dipping into the melodramatic possibilities that exist within the world of psychological upset she creates. This tale, centered on a young man released from state care after more than 10 years (locked away for a murder committed when he was ten years old) and the psychologist who he chooses to bring back into his life, leaves you questioning what is really going on until the very end. Barker is a fabulous writer, and this is a very nice (albeit quick) read.
Need More Love: A Graphic Memoir | Aline Kominsky Crumb
Brian bought me cool books in NYC – the best of which was a signed paperback copy of Steal This Book! Need More Love was one of the other choices that found its way into his suitcase – and I had a great time reading it over the summer. It’s Aline Crumb’s autobiography told alternately in comics, paintings, interviews and short writings – interesting enough in that it covers her life, but it also encompasses a history of alternative comics, sixties sub-culture, and the rise of yuppiedom among Northern California hippies. Definitely a nice addition to my collection of graphic novels.
The Best American Non-Required Reading 2007 | David Eggers (Editor)
Picked this up on a whim and discovered a fantastic collection of humour writing, essays, and short stories. By far the best in this edition is the introductory essay by Sufjan Stevens about how he didn’t learn to read until Grade Three (and the failure of Montessori for him personally). Gosh, that was funny.
Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay | Nancy Milford
I have always been interested in Edna St. Vincent Millay, renegade poet of the earlier 20th century, and this biography covers her life in a way that is respectful and fairly complete. Including smatterings of poetry, pictures of Millay’s drug notebooks, and a wide array of source interviews – an interesting picture of a woman who was simultaneously voted “one of America’s ten most famous women” while also maintaining a semi-reclusive life in her upstate New York home. Both her rise to stardom and her descent into addiction are familiar to modern celebrity life, it’s just hard to imagine a time in which such a celebrity was a poet and intellectual!
Briefing for a Descent into Hell | Doris Lessing
I tried to read this back when I was 19 and couldn’t make a go of it. Read it this time around by skimming the long passages of delusion experienced by the main character – which I suppose were the point of the whole novel. Perhaps this is sixties avant-gardism but I wasn’t entirely sure of the point. As much as I love Lessing, I didn’t like this.
The Gathering | Anne Enright
Bought this Booker winner ages ago in an airport and just got around to reading it last week. An odd little novel with no real events to speak of besides a death and a wake – but magnificently written. An inner journey of the main character between past to present, an attempt to piece together events from childhood and their impact on the death of her brother, Enright leaves the reader wondering exactly what, if anything, did happen. But artfully. Without melodrama. Not a general recommendation for everyone – but if writing craft is your interest then I would sure suggest this.
Wounds of Passion: A Writing Life | bell hooks
An autobiography from the first part of bell hooks’ life – written in both first and third person – with a lovely poetic feel throughout. The memoir of beginning to write, fighting racism and sexism in the process of becoming the radical thinker and artist that hooks is today. Another good garage sale find and a light read in terms of accessibility, though not in terms of subject.
The Eye in the Door | Pat Barker
The second book from the Regeneration Trilogy – carrying on the story of Officer Billy Prior and psychiatrist Dr. Rivers against the backdrop of World War One. Barker explores psychiatry, violence, homosexuality, conscientious objection to the war, socialism, poetry, and more in this incredible series of books. I’m on to the third shortly (which won a Booker), Brian is currently reading the first – I can’t recommend Barker’s writing strongly enough.
Sniffling but happy.
Oh gosh this space has been neglected this summer. The last two weeks have been travel and more travel and then sickness, and on top of that it’s been awfully hard to pry myself away from Brian long enough to go away and have some private thinking time. Which of course, has to change if I am going to continue to write (not just here, but elsewhere). It’s been a bit of a pitfall in the past that once I enter a stable relationship I tend to let the writing drop off. I just create better when I’m tortured I suppose. But even that is too sporadic for writing books, and I’m trying a new tack come September with an earlier morning schedule to accommodate some work before work. Like going to the gym, a daily habit is necessary to sustain me and build on – I am joining a writer’s group that a friend is starting – I need to produce and be somewhat serious about it.
Somehow I have to figure out how to fit it *all* in – writing, work, union, gym, partner, step-child, friends, downtime, sleep – which no matter how I enter it on the schedule, starts to frighten me. Each day has something marked in its little square, each day must be checked before I agree to something new – both a stress and a comfort. I do like to be needed after all. (Shades of my mother, co-dependent control issues).
In any case, I am at home, sick with a cold and rambling away here quite happy about everything except the snot in my head. Well, quite happy with the state of my personal life anyways, the possibility of an election call (which would mean another delay in collective bargaining for us) is irking me somewhat. Oh, and for those of you keeping tabs on Darren’s return – it has been well delayed by INS and the Canadian bureaucracy in accepting citizens back into the country. As much as I thought it was a done deal, he will not be home until later in the fall (and we don’t know when yet because his deportation case hasn’t even made it into the docket.)
Besides that I’m settling into the notion that bargaining or no bargaining, I’ve got one busy fall coming up. And you know, it’s really nice to be heading into it with the awesomeness of my relationship to smooth out the more harried times. As much as this partnership takes time to cultivate, it gives back in good energy and overall well-being. Which I suppose is how the trade-off is supposed to work when mutual care is involved.
So of course more will be written here about all of those things, but for now it’s lying down time to chase this cold away!
Quebec photos.
Will try to get a post in here shortly but for now you can look at my Quebec City photos here.
Released.
On the Bureau of Prisons website this morning Darren is officially listed at “released”, and I’ve got the shock of it. I knew of course it would be this week, but to see it CAPITALIZED at the end of his prisoner listing is something else entirely. It is one piece of this horrid business almost finished, even as the rest of it continues embodied in others who once shared our hearts and lives. (And that once seems like another lifetime now, not long in years, but long gone for what’s come in between then and now.)
I put on my headphones at work to retreat, a few moments to catch my breath. I am alone here with the insistent knock in my frame, that past which insists on being let in. Right now. When it’s not a good time at all. I’ve got things to finish before I leave! (But when is it ever a good time to revisit that which has harmed us?)
I can not cease the film that plays: the cabin in the hills with the bathtub in the living room, the black sand beach where we argued as if our lives depended on it, the night of swimming in a phospherescent sea, a sunny day beside the frozen creek, long ribbons of roadtrips, picking mushrooms in second-growth forest and turning them into soup, gunshots in the sharp air of autumn. The distinct feeling of always walking back into a circle that felt like home.
And as much as I hold it close, there is a selfish me that wants this past to disappear. To be allowed to move on without the weight of apology and recrimination shackled about. Of course we all just wish that it had never happened. The arrests part. The hearings. The prison. And even, perhaps, some of the actions themselves.
It was all over anyways, before the FBI got involved.
But I see it says there RELEASED, so released he must be. And I by extension also? No longer in custody perhaps, but never truly free. How can any of us be?
Red Cedar 