Tag: james baldwin

Musings on city writers

The weather today,

was windy and brisk,

a nice April day.

I went to the library,

brought back,

those Jane Rules,

she’s a good writer,

but,

right now,

her stuff,

just isn’t,

speaking to me.

I made it through most,

of the,

Chatwin biography,

interesting man,

an original,

free thinker,

but,

I think I should,

read his novels,

I like novels.

I just don’t enjoy,

biography and non-fiction,

like I used to.

In all readers lives,

there are phases,

perhaps my,

biography phase,

has come and gone,

well,

for the,

foreseeable future,

anyway.

I finished Cakes and Ale,

I loved it,

again,

Maugham,

is one of the few authors,

I can read more,

than once,

and enjoy,

of course,

there is John Irving,

but,

he’s special to me,

kind of like,

hockey,

and cats:-)

In January,

I read a novel by,

Bernard Malamud,

The Tenants,

it was one of those,

bottom of the box books,

I was surprised at how much,

I liked it.

So, on Saturday,

once it started,

hailing!!

and,

business dried up,

so to speak,

I discovered another,

Malamud on my shelves,

The Associate,

again a  novel,

about a tortured,

poor,

Jewish man,

in Brooklyn.

I started it,

then and there.

I have a thing,

for Brooklyn,

I always,

have,

don’t ask,

I don’t know.

I also have a thing,

for New York writers,

I love the hope and yearning,

buried under cynicism,

you have to dig for it,

but,

it’s there.

City people appear,

more jaded,

harder,

they aren’t,

they are just a little,

more cautious,

which they hide,

under bluster,

they want just,

as much,

but,

perhaps,

they expect less.

Probably,

a result,

of lack of,

fresh air,

green space,

quiet,

real quiet.

Never really,

quiet,

in the city,

never completely,

dark either,

light polution,

noise polution,

air polution,

makes all us,

city folk,

a little crazy:-)

Now,

New York,

that’s a special,

case,

the model,

of such,

conditions,

to me New York,

has always been,

the microcosm,

of American society,

everything,

that’s good about it,

and,

everything rotten,

as well.

To me they are,

THE,

North American city.

As a Quebecer,

a Montrealer,

I am a North American,

of a different stripe,

I live in a French city,

on an English,

mostly American,

continent,

a weird combination,

strangely enough,

these writers,

the,

Baldwins,

the,

Shulmans,

help me give texture,

to my experience.

I like their hard,

intellectual shell,

I like their,

mal de vivre,

their,

want of a better world,

in spite of the dirt,

and,

grime,

their hope,

for a better,

society,

in spite of,

constant examples,

of the failures,

of society’s experiments,

their movement,

their imobility.

I find hope,

in their hopelessness…

This probably makes no sense.

I’ll have to think on it,

some more.

Meantime,

I’ll be reading Malamud.

Later girls,

BB

Giovanni’s Room

Something strange,

is falling,

from the sky,

not really,

snow,

not really,

rain,

perhaps,

textured rain?

The Canadiens,

won on Tuesday,

but,

one of our best forwards,

was seriously injured,

the way he was hit,

he could have been,

killed,

ugly stuff,

there are limits,

the league should do,

something,

before someone dies.

I hate that,

it’s a contact sport,

not shuffleboard but,

this is insane,

it also gives Hockey,

a reputation,

as a barbaric sport.

It’s not,

it is,

an exciting, fast,

sport.

Our national pastime.

Been, an odd,

kind of week,

I’m tired and manic,

simultaneously.

Spring?

I’ve been thinking about,

Giovanni’s Room.

Sometimes,

when reading great works,

of literature,

what I call literature,

with a capital L,

I’m not sure,

I understand,

all that is being,

“said”,

and I don’t think,

it is necessarily,

important.

To me,

Giovanni’s Room,

is about coming to terms,

with loving,

someone of your own sex,

and how difficult,

that can be.

No matter that we live in a more accepting era, it is still difficult and sometimes heart wrenching, the pressure to conform is still massive.

David,

the protagonist,

has experimented with,

homosexuality,

from a young age.

Still a boy,

when he has a romance,

with Joey,

but,

he turns on Joey,

sees him as weak,

and bullies him.

It’s actually easier,

for him,

to be cruel,

than to accept,

that he is gay.

Says a lot,

about what we teach,

boys.

David moves to Paris,

to get away from,

his life,

his family.

He meets Hella,

a young American woman,

she is smart,

attractive,

and,

free.

Hella, goes to Spain,

basically,

to decide,

if she wants to be with David.

While, she is away,

he meets Giovanni,

and lives with him,

in his room.

David loves Giovanni,

but,

he is incapable of,

that love,

or so ,

he thinks.

Hella,

comes back and decides,

to marry David,

because,

to her a woman,

only becomes,

a woman,

through the eyes,

of a man.

Says a lot,

about,

what we teach girls.

Do we really think, it’s all that different today? Is De Beauvoir’s line about not being born a woman but, becoming one, a thing of the past? I wonder? 

This is a novel about,

discovery,

love,

betrayal,

and ultimately,

acceptance.

Hard to take,

for the rawness,

and honesty,

of it’s emotion.

I’m still amazed that,

Baldwin had,

to guts,

to say,

these things in 1956.

This is not a feel good book.

There is no happy ending.

But, David does find,

clarity.

This novel,

as do all works,

of naked truth,

shook me to my core.

I will never forget it.

Later girls,

BB

*I hope I didn’t give too much away*

Those who came before

I got up,

to rain,

this morning,

lots of rain,

so in typical,

me fashion,

I expected,

the bookstore,

to be deserted,

I tried to be optimistic,

and tell myself,

I’ll finish,

my Baldwin.

To my great surprise,

I was very busy,

and had a day,

that is surely,

a record,

for early March.

Interested,

interesting,

customers,

buying,

lots of books.

Delightful.

Thirty pages left,

on Giovanni’s Room,

I’ll finish it,

before turning in.

I find it difficult,

honest,

filled with,

ugly emotions.

He was a brave man,

James Baldwin.

This novel,

was published in 1956,

and is an honest account,

of a homosexual affair.

His work,

was gutsy,

his life was gutsy.

He lived as an out,

homosexual,

didn’t really say, Gay, then

in the forties, fifties,

a black man.

It’s hard for me to imagine,

how difficult,

it must have been,

I live in,

a time,

and in,

a country,

where I can,

legally marry,

a woman.

He lived ,

in a puritanical time,

in a racially segregated society,

when being queer,

was a disease.

He was brave,

brilliant,

an example in every way.

Being true to,

your art,

your self,

your truth.

Freedom is not something that anybody can be given. Freedom is something people take, and people are as free as they want to be- James Baldwin

We stand on the shoulders,

of the,

James Baldwin’s,

of the past,

all of us,

regardless of,

preference,

or identity.

Good to remember,

those who came,

before.

Later girls,

BB

On the genius of Baldwin and the promise of dating

I’m reading,

Giovanni’s Room,

it’s good,

no,

it’s great,

I have always admired,

Baldwin’s work,

strength,

indignation,

clear angry prose,

but,

this,

is genius,

dark,

pain,

clarity,

and insight,

And yet-when one begins to search for the crucial, the definitive moment, the moment      which changed all others, one finds one-self pressing, in great pain, through a maze of false signals and abpruptly locking doors

and this,

Perhaps he is a fool and a coward but almost everybody is one or the other and most people are both…he buttoned his wallet, locked his door, and retired into that strong self-pity which was perhaps, the only thing he had that really belonged to him.

I mentioned,

it was,

dark,

right?

Right now,

I can handle dark.

It feels like,

spring is coming,

I feel it,

in my fingers,

in my toes.

I’m feeling frisky,

and a little lonely.

I got a haircut,

polished my boots,

I’m feeling,

swagger,

dangerous swagger,

like I haven’t felt,

in years,

what is it they say,

about a woman’s sexual peak?

forties?

plenty of time left,

watch out,

you have been warned:-)

In the meantime,

I’ll keep reading,

oh,

and,

singing,

go figure,

bookish butch,

is giddy,

because,

one thing,

I should remember,

about the last few,

strange and brief,

experiences,

I’m dating again,

and it’s hard,

but,

nothing worth doing,

isn’t.

Later girls,

BB