Listening
Guest journalist James Pogue recommended a podcast series titled "God's Socialist" and I jumped in, eyes closed. This is my preferred form of cliff-diving, involving no physical harm, but an equivalent mental exhilaration. He describes the series to Ezra Klein as "a counternarrative of the entire history of post-1960s progress."
The Guardian wrote, in 2018, "The Jonestown massacre was, before 9/11, the largest single incident of intentional civilian death in American history" and I suppose that that is what obscured it from my view... I was in Grade 12 when the towers fell. Therefore Darryll Cooper's research for this long-episode podcast series provided an unfamiliar view. I especially liked the episode titled "Head North, Then Turn Left" summarizing civil rights movements. I also admit there are lengthy parts of episodes I found hard to listen to.
I tend to avoid historical podcasts of this type... Honestly, I think it's because I prefer to read books because books are so much easier to put down, pick up, cross-reference, and situate yourself in. When I listen to a lengthy podcast, I feel a bit enslaved to the host's choices, like I'm being taken on a cruise rather than being invited to a dinner party.
That would be all I have to say about that, except, coincidentally, I've been listening through Tom Moon's selection of folk albums from his 2008 book 1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die. I've always been a little ashamed about my poor musical taste and year over year resolve to broaden my listening. But Tim Moon's book is imposing and I soon get overwhelmed. It wasn't until I was listening to Glen Weldon's New Year's resolutions (here) that I found the key to tackling this project... Mr. Weldon had targeted a specific movie genre, and so I too, would target music by genre. I started 2025 with Folk, for no reason except that it seemed like an innocuous choice.
It turned out to be so much more than just innocuous. Take Moon's description of "The Essential Ramblin' Jack Elliott"... Described as "a pretension-free performer with a gruff voice" Moon credits Elliott for preserving all kinds of music... He writes, "Thing is, that arcane stuff in his head is culturally significant, a part of American history that has escaped the books. Just by singing his simple songs, Elliott pulls listeners into that earlier time - when personality mattered, when entertaining meant telling a story (...)." (p 255). "Buffalo Skinners" is an example that seems like it could apply to history on the Canadian prairies. (I had the kids listen to "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree" because it was so hilarious to hear for the first time.)
I felt this pull "into [an] earlier time" listening to the Pete Seeger album of his 1963 concert at Carnegie Hall. Having just listened through the above podcast series, It felt both thrilling and poignant to hear him remark once or twice about the marches in Birmingham. What historical immediacy in my ears! But also, what enjoyment... how music can be just some pathetic notes, and then suddenly morph into a feeling. I liked Tim Buckley's album “Dream Letter” for that, songs like "Love from Room 109" and "Carnival Song" and especially "Hallucinations".... I'm thoroughly enjoying this musical adventure!
Reading
I like reading from three books at once… something from Francine Prose’s list, something educational, and something fun, like a memoir. Right now, I have William Trevor’s The Collected Stories, Julie Satow’s When Women Ran Fifth Avenue, and William Finnegan’s Barbarian Days. Such disparate book subjects can lead to serendipitous matches though… For example, a short story by William Trevor titled “Nice Day at School” involves a girl being harassed at school. She considers how she cannot involve her parents in her dilemma, for, as the author writes:
Her mother was trapped, married to him, obliging him so that she’d receive housekeeping money out of which she could save for her morning glass of gin. He was trapped himself, going out every night in a doorman’s uniform, the Prince of Hackney with a bad back. He crushed her mother because he’d been crushed himself. How could either of them be expected to bother if she spoke of being mocked, and then asked them questions, seeking reassurance? (p 167)
Finnegan too was also harassed at school. He writes:
I don’t know what my parents thought. Cuts and bruises, even black eyes, could be explained. Football, surfing, something. My hunch, which seems right in retrospect, was that they couldn’t help, so I told them nothing. (p 10)
I suppose it’s because of being a parent that these strike me… In such neat words, a deep pool of thought, that strange gap between a parent and a child that you have to work at bridging in so many ways…
Watching
I finally finished The Taste of Things on my own this week. Christian asked me if I liked it and I hesitated. It’s the kind of movie that falls more into the category of artistry than plain enjoyment and when that happens, I like hearing what people with better judgement have to say about it. Roger Ebert’s review offered the perfect explanation. I especially liked the inclusion of MFK’s quote at the end, tipping my hesitation a little more toward a kind of retrospective enjoyment. Funny how that is, eh?