dual personalities

Happy birthday, Herman Melville! Today (and this weekend), we celebrate the bicentennial of Melville’s birth on August 1, 1819. Readers of the blog know that Melville is one of our most beloved authors, and Moby-Dick? It’ll change your life.

Visiting Melville’s portrait at the Houghton Library

Melville was born and died in New York City, and in his 72 years he traveled the world–from Nantucket to Cape Horn, Tahiti to Lima, Honolulu to the Holy Land. Wikipedia divides his life into categories that include “Years at sea,” “Successful writer” and “Unsuccessful writer.” It’s true that Melville’s professional life was not marked by incredible success, at least not in any sustained way.

Thankfully, in the past century and a half, American authors and readers (and filmmakers and songwriters) have come to understand and appreciate the great genius of Melville’s works, particularly, of course, Moby-Dick. Nathaniel Philbrick describes in Why Read Moby-Dick? the novel’s influence on William Faulkner, Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck, and others. And when Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016, he spoke of three major works of literature that influenced him, among them Moby-Dick.

So what does it all mean? Myself and a lot of other songwriters have been influenced by these very same themes. And they can mean a lot of different things. If a song moves you, that’s all that’s important. I don’t have to know what a song means. I’ve written all kinds of things into my songs. And I’m not going to worry about it – what it all means. When Melville put all his old testament, biblical references, scientific theories, Protestant doctrines, and all that knowledge of the sea and sailing ships and whales into one story, I don’t think he would have worried about it either – what it all means.

I think that’s true. Or perhaps another way to put it: it doesn’t mean just one thing. The great thing about Melville is that one can spend years and years trying to figure out “what it all means” (sometimes you can at least manage to get a PhD along the way) and still have more to learn. His novels and stories just never stop giving.

ERE now it has been related how Ahab was wont to pace his quarter-deck, taking regular turns at either limit, the binnacle and mainmast; but in the multiplicity of other things requiring narration it has not been added how that sometimes in these walks, when most plunged in his mood, he was wont to pause in turn at each spot, and stand there strangely eyeing the particular object before him. When he halted before the binnacle, with his glance fastened on the pointed needle in the compass, that glance shot like a javelin with the pointed intensity of his purpose; and when resuming his walk he again paused before the mainmast, then, as the same riveted glance fastened upon the riveted gold coin there, he still wore the same aspect of nailed firmness, only dashed with a certain wild longing, if not hopefulness.

But one morning, turning to pass the doubloon, he seemed to be newly attracted by the strange figures and inscriptions stamped on it, as though now for the first time beginning to interpret for himself in some monomaniac way whatever significance might lurk in them. And some certain significance lurks in all things, else all things are little worth, and the round world itself but an empty cipher, except to sell by the cartload, as they do hills about Boston, to fill up some morass in the Milky Way.

From Moby-Dick, “The Doubloon”

Now, some celebrations of Melville can be a bit hokey: think giant inflated whales. But it sounds like other bicentennial activities center on reading, including Moby-Dick marathons. In our neck of the woods, we’ll celebrate Melville’s life from Nantucket to Tahiti, with nautical decor and tiki punch. Armed with our favorite quotes, we plan to do a bit of reading ourselves. Are you ready?

If you haven’t read any Melville this year–or ever!–you could start small, with a novella or short story. Try Bartleby the Scrivener or “The Piazza.” Maybe you’ve read Moby-Dick and you’re ready for another daunting novel. Try Pierre! It features another diverse cast of characters and quite the wacky plot, but it supplies ample rewards in digestible bits of wisdom. Perhaps a pilgrimage would inspire you: Clarel is inspired by Melville’s own trip to the Holy Land. And if the seafaring tales are your thing, I’m partial to Melville’s last work, Billy Budd, which combines the ocean setting of the early novels with the moral significance of the later works.

If all else fails, perhaps give one chapter of Moby-Dick a listen: might I suggest Benedict Cumberbatch reading “Brit,” one of my all-time favorites?

*from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s journals, The English Experience, 1853-1864

Inspired by my recent sojourn at my DP’s beautiful house, I finally put a couple of things up on my bare kitchen walls. The behemoth size of our new microwave required me to rethink the space above it, where the old shelves would no longer fit. I looked for new ones, but after months of fruitless searching I decided to nick the little shelves from the downstairs powder room. I replaced them with this sweet Dutch print that had been one of our mother’s favorites.

The print seems happy in that spot, and the smaller shelves fit perfectly in the kitchen next to the vintage embroidery that my DP gave me.

Here’s a slightly wider view — you can see what I mean about the microwave.

I think it turned out well — the shelves aren’t even crooked!

Curtains are next on my finishing list but choosing them is much more difficult than I anticipated. There is so much gorgeous blue and white material out there:

Fleur de Provence from Spoonflower.com

Unfortunately, my kitchen really cries out for a dash of color other than cobalt blue. This lovely design — also from Spoonflower — would be my curtain choice were it not for the fake tile lines. Do you think they would look okay on curtains or would the lines ruin the effect?

At the moment I’m leaning toward Saffron Marigold’s Moonlit Taj, although I’m a little worried that the blue will be too turquoise and clash with all the Spode in the kitchen.

What do you think? Would you choose one of the three? If so, which one? Should I keep looking? Don’t be shy or worry that I will choose the one you advise me against. I value any and all input! Have a lovely week!!

What did you watch this weekend?

With a nightly bedtime of 8:30 p.m., we don’t get through much, but we did start Lonesome Dove.

It is a first-time watch for me, so I am learning a lot about horse thieves and water moccasins and what it means for a cattle herd to “catch lightning.” We stopped at a very traumatic end to “episode” one, and I have been warned that the action won’t rest henceforth.

Well, OK! We’ll have to tune in for more cowboy medicine this week.

*Gus, in Lonesome Dove

The week flew by and I have nothing much to show for it, having left the house hardly at all.  I did read an excellent book, Fall Back Down When I Die by Joe Wilkins, a writer and poet from Montana.

Wendell Newman, the main character, is a young Montana ranch hand who lives in a trailer on his family’s property. He is burdened by debts, among them his late mother’s medical bills and the unpaid mortgage on the land that has been in his family for generations. When, out of the blue, he receives custody of his jailed cousin’s traumatized young son, he does his best to care for the boy. Under Wendell’s low key care, Rowdy slowly begins to come out of his shell, but the family’s past and local political conflicts intrude on the pair, with dire results.

Picture of Bull Mountain Ranch, Montana from Google Image

The novel addresses political divisions and attendant personal grudges with refreshing subtlety, sensitivity and openness. There are no one-dimensional villains here — just imperfect people who sometimes let their emotions take the place of reason and then make bad decisions that have unintended consequences.  Fall Back Down When I Die is a beautifully written, thoughtful, character driven reminder to consider other people’s points of view before imposing our own, and that we should not kill (literally or metaphorically) just because we imagine a threat.

These brief comments do not do this wonderful book justice. You’ll just have to read it!

*from the film Wind River (a movie that, although darker, would pair well with this book)

Today, I am en route to St. Louis! I have been going non-stop for weeks now, and I’m looking forward to slowing down at home.

Unfortunately I am leaving these pretty flowers behind

Throughout my own trials this summer, DN has been taking great care of me: cooking, listening, driving, lovingly chilling cold compresses for my hot brow… (we do not have central air in our current apartment). Well, now it is my turn to take care. I am ready to cook, listen, and drive for my dear mother!

TBD whether she will need a cold compress for her brow.

Last night, in between long talks on the phone I watched part of The Time Machine (1960) starring Rod Taylor. It’s a pretty bad movie, although I enjoyed seeing Rod and a super young Yvette Mimieux. He was just 30 and she a mere 18.

What IS that monster with the animal skin wrap on?

Yvette was pretty, if a little wooden. Here she is not reacting to Rod after he saves her from drowning in a river.

Though Rod gives it his best, even he cannot save The Time Machine.

Doesn’t he seem older than 30?

Still, what I saw of RT made me think it would be nice to see him in another movie. Why not watch The Birds,

or The Glass Bottom Boat with Doris Day?

In any case, I’m up for an early 1960s film that I have not already seen a hundred times. Got any suggestions?