Peace Like A River


It was a wide river, mistakable for a lake or even an ocean unless you'd been wading and knew its current. Somehow I'd crossed it... Now I saw the stream regrouped below, flowing on through what might've been vineyards, pastures, orhards... It flowed between and alongside the rivers of people; from here it was no more than a silver wire winding toward the city. - Leif Enger, Peace Like A River

Tuesday, February 04, 2003

As I was leaving this morning, John was having breakfast at the table in the kitchen, and Rhonda was reading to him, a book that he'd seen before. (It's easier to get him interested in unfamiliar books if she reads to him while he's eating, otherwise he tends not to want to sit still and look at books he hasn't seen before.) They got to a page where someone said "stop, boy, wait", and before Rhonda said that line John said "wait, wait, wait!" On the other side of the page, some boys were teasing another boy, and one boy was making a face, and John pointed at him and said "crying". Yeah, it looked like he was crying. He wanted to get in some happy joy joy before I left, but I said I had to go to work.

It is cold today, temps around 10. Drive in was quite slow, don't know what the holdup was, roads were just fine.

In the Man vs. Machine chess match, it is all tied after 4 games. A win apiece and two draws. The next game is tomorrow, with Kasparaov playing white. Kasparov has had the computer on the ropes early each time he's had white, so he's looking for a win here, and a draw in the sixth and final game on Friday to win the match.

In books, I just finished reading How To Be Alone by Jonathan Franzen. (You might remember him from the brouhaha he got himself into with Oprah and her Book Club.) This collection of essays was published in 2002. The theme, such as there is one, is about privacy and having a sense of aloneness in today's noisy culture. The essays have a bite and a wit to them reminiscent of Franzen's friend David Foster Wallace. Franzen is a writer of enormous talent. He has that gift that all great writers do. He takes a thought that may be just on the edge of your consciousness, you're not sure how to crystallize it, and Franzen puts into words exactly what needs to be said, and does it so eloquently you slap your forehead and say that's so simple, why didn't I think of that.

Norman Mailer said about Franzen "But there are more and more skilled novelists today. Their themes get smaller, for the most part, but their techniques and talents get more and more refined. Jonathan Franzen is the arch example. He could become a great writer, he's got the stuff. I don't know that he's willing to pay the price. Because with the talent he's got, he's like a certain kind of wealthy man: he's not going to try to become a billionaire. That describes most authors."

One little nugget from his famous Harper's essay. He got a letter from Don DeLillo, who said this:

"The writer leads, he doesn't follow. The dynamic lives in
the writer's mind, not in the size of the audience.

Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass
identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals."

I'm going to start in on a collection of essays by Martin Amis (son of Kingsley Amis, author of the wonderful Lucky Jim.) Also about to start in on a book by Louise Erdrich, The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse.

On the personal writing front, I have three stories out collecting rejection slips. I've trunked another one for now, and am working on a fifth.

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