“What is life but a series of inspired follies?”*

by chuckofish

Recently I watched the movie My Foolish Heart (1949) which, as you know, is the only film adaptation of a fictional work written by J.D. Salinger. It was loosely adapted from his short story, “Uncle Wiggly in Connecticut,” and Salinger was so disappointed with the changes made to his original story, that he never again allowed any of his work to be adapted for film.

Dana Andrews and Susan Hayward–all wrong

It isn’t a terrible movie (especially if you don’t know the Salinger connection.) The screenplay is, after all, by Julius and Philip Epstein, who wrote Casablanca (1942). But they took Salinger’s poignant little story and turned it into a four-star tearjerker, giving it the full-blown Hollywood treatment. He must have been really embarrassed, I mean really embarrassed. I re-read the story and I suggest you do the same.

This is an interesting article about a dead Presbyterian who still has a lot to say to us.

And this article by an Episcopalian makes some good points.

And I like this poem by Richard Wilbur:

A Barred Owl

The warping night air having brought the boom
Of an owl’s voice into her darkened room,
We tell the wakened child that all she heard
Was an odd question from a forest bird,
Asking of us, if rightly listened to,
“Who cooks for you?” and then “Who cooks for you?”

Words, which can make our terrors bravely clear,
Can also thus domesticate a fear,
And send a small child back to sleep at night
Not listening for the sound of stealthy flight
Or dreaming of some small thing in a claw
Borne up to some dark branch and eaten raw.

Who cooks for you?

*George Bernard Shaw (He continued, “The difficulty is to find them to do. Never lose a chance: it doesn’t come every day.””)