Our Town by Thornton Wilder

Every January I like to re-read the play Our Town.

I know, I know Our Town has a terrible reputation. Every high school has performed this play with often pathetic results. Please try to sweep those memories away and let me convince you to read, really read this play.

I believe it is some of the best writing out there – strong words you say, well stick with me here…

First published in 1938, it delivers a hauntingly real look at life….and death….and love. It takes place in Grover’s Corners a small New England town, actually based on a real town called Peterborough where Wilder often spent his summers and near where I lived in New Hampshire.

The three acts of this play are structured in a manner that encompasses the most basic features of human life: everyday living, love/marriage, and of course death. Much attention is usually paid to the third act of the play because it is here Wilder really closes in to make his point most obviously.

Yes, the third act is brilliant, and still chokes me up every time, but I like to linger in the first two acts – which are about the ordinariness of life — and it’s the ordinary that actually makes life extraordinary — just as it is. Mr. Wilder gently pushes this point, all life, any life, is special –and perhaps most of all, sharing this amazing life with others around you.

These subtle life observations give even greater rewards as one gets older, when time has passed and life has slapped you around – the words suddenly become heart achingly real and relevant.

Reading this little play always snaps me out of my post holiday blues (thus, why I re-read it in January) as I once again realize that what Mr. Wilder is urging – what we should, but seldom (or never) actually do.

I chuckled this time at this quote ~~ “We don’t have time to look at one another” ~~ if that was true in 1937, imagine how much more true it is today.

You may agree with the many critics who have charged Our Town with being overly sentimental and perhaps it is, but I don’t consider this a negative — we should be sentimental about the things we love.

Now, if I have you convinced to give it a try once again –every library has a copy and it’s very short.

Here are my favorite underlined passages:

Wherever you come near the human race there’s layers and layers of nonsense.

We all know that something is eternal. And it ain’t houses and it ain’t names, and it ain’t earth, and it ain’t even the stars… everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you’d be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There’s something way down deep that’s eternal about every human being.

Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover’s Corners… Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking… and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you.

Yes, now you know. Now you know! That’s what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those…of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know — that’s the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.

Only it seems to me that once in your life before you die you ought to see a country where they don’t talk in English and don’t even want to.

Read Our Town and perhaps it will remind what a gift it is to be alive and you must, must pay attention — to everything.

NB: Our Town was recently recommended by Ann Patchett as good background for her new novel Tom Lake, which I haven’t read, but is getting great reviews. Many recommend the audio version narrated by Meryl Streep. I don’t get along very well with audio books, but that sounds like it might be worth a try.

Here we are.

Well, here we are folks, a New Year and almost midway through January (how did that happen?).

It’s been a string of rainy and dull January days. The Christmas decorations are put away, the tree is down, the house is back to everyday, the bills are coming in, and wannabe dictators threaten on the horizon.

But, hey lets cheer up and talk about books, always a good place to go when things seem grim.

I only read one (only one!) Christmas book, I picked up and put down several before settling in on a lovely novel set in an English bookshop, (of course). It’s put away with my notes to tell you about next year.

Santa gave me a lovely book…no, no, truth be told, I bought it for myself. While at favorite independent bookstore, buying a book for a friend, I stumbled across this little gem – and how could I resist?

This is a new addition to the Everyman’s Pocket Classics series. These are beautiful smallish books, bound with cloth in Germany. The dust jackets are, without exception, stunning. The books in this series are always nice to hold in the hand. (Funny how some books aren’t great to hold…)

Everyman’s Library was conceived in 1905 by London publisher Joseph Malaby Dent, whose goal was to create a 1,000-volume library of world literature that was affordable for, and that appealed to, every kind of person, from students to the working classes to the cultural elite.

All the Everyman’s editions come with this circa 1905, somewhat stilted, introduction and a sewn-in ribbon bookmark.

From the inside flap:

An enchanting book about books: a beautiful hardcover Pocket Classics anthology of stories that testify to the irresistible power of the written word.
The characters in the delightful stories collected here range all the way from the ink-stained medieval monks in Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose to the book-besotted denizens of Ali Smith’s Public Library and Other Stories. In these pages readers are invited to enter the interior lives of librarians in Lorrie Moore’s “Community Life” and Elizabeth McCracken’s “Juliet” and are ushered into a host of unusual libraries, including the infinite rooms of Jorge Luis Borges’s “The Library of Babel” and a secret library in Helen Oyeyemi’s “Books and Roses.”

I’ve been happily skipping around reading a story here, a snippet there. So far, a wonderful collection of stories for book lovers, it even includes excerpts from 84 Charing Cross Road.

So, I’m closing the drapes, making a cup of tea I got for Christmas, and enjoying my new book.

So goodbye old year. Hello new year – bring it on!

New Year Thoughts – sort of

I had a hiccup in my holiday reading, two books I did not finish, two more proved good but just for me right now, but I have just now settled on one that is soothing, warm, and just right….more on that later, in the New Year.

I have mixed feelings about the New Year and so, I will enter it warily.

Always my same goals raise their persistent heads. Get more exercise, eat better, work on the garden, less computer time, clean out my clutter, be more creative, and, of course, read more.

But then I came across this on Facebook and I really liked it. I will still attempt my goals above, but this is worth reading thorough,

~ This year, dear friends, may we all lose weight!

The weight of expectations. The weight of self-criticism. The weight of disconnect that fills us with a deeper hunger. The weight of not always loving. The weight of a worn and weary world. Of not always accepting, seeing and inhabiting this precious and sacred body, that we’re in.

~ This year, dear friends, may we all exercise!

…our holy will! Our sacred sense of purpose. Our vision and hard-earned wisdom. Our discernment and our shining hearts. In ways that enrich connections, with our bodies, our souls and those we love. And even to the world.

~ This year, ah yes… may we all start the work of quitting…

…that collective Kool-Aid. The negative self-talk. The small-a**ed living. That cacophony of cockatoo-voices that drown out our souls. And old habits: Those used to stop us hearing our pain, our disappointments, and all things much better loved, seen and accepted right down to the very bottom ~ and to find true freedom, through a connection with our deepest souls.

~ This fine new year, (here’s the best…) May we all be rich!

Yes, utterly and completely rich. Wildly and unapologetically. Rich in love. Life. Connection with one another and all that really matters. Filled to the brim and bubbling over; more again and spilling over that. Full of laughter, acceptance, joy, and less of worry. Less of sorrow ~

Rich in renewed experience, of a whole new year!

by Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer) art | John Collier

To my dear Book Barmy family,

Happy New Year

Time for Home

I read this quote on a booksellers website and it just resonated with me

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”  

quote from Christmas at Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons.

Isn’t that what the holidays are about? Being home – whatever home is for you – with loved ones, good friends, good food, and of course good books.

Next week is largely uninterrupted reading time, so in the meantime, I will share some of my favorite images for the holiday season.

I love this painting by Andrew Wyeth

Someone sent me this image in an e-card and it makes me smile.

Seeing the Christmas lights downtown.

Bookshops anytime, but especially during Christmas.

My little reading nook decorated for the holiday.

Some of my collection of Christmas books.

But in the end, being home is my favorite part of the holidays.

Wherever you are this season, wishing you warmth, peace, love and good books to read.

An English Murder by Cyril Hare

First published in 1951, this Christmas mystery takes place in the favorite setting of British murder mysteries — the large country home.

Lord Warbeck summons his remaining family to the ancestral home for a holiday gathering. This country home is rather run-down with a greatly reduced staff — the result of high postwar British income taxes. It’s a very mixed group of people who arrive and there are creepy undercurrents from the very first pages. This house party is snowbound on Christmas Eve, and of course a murder ensues.

Thank goodness an eccentric little Sargent from Scotland Yard is present, but the historian saves the day, with the help of William Pitt. If all that sounds a lot like Agatha Christie — well, that’s because it is. The mystery plot turns on — well, I don’t want to give it away, suffice it to say our author, Mr. Hare, was a British barrister.

This a classic English murder mystery in all the right ways — the snowbound setting, odd characters with funny names, the sly British sense of humor, and of course, the Christmas-y feel.

At only 202 pages, it is the perfect quick holiday read with a cup of cocoa after a busy day of your own holiday preparations.

Treat yourself to that beautiful copy of An English Murder shown above – don’t-cha love that cover?

I re-read my old battered copy found used at the now defunct Mystery Bookshop in San Francisco.

It doesn’t look very Christmas-y, but it’s a keepsake.

It’s raining here, the tree is up and decorated, most gifts are wrapped, and I may shall take a break, and read another Christmas book.

Stay warm and safe people. Cheers!