June 18, 2013
London to Paris
It’s funny that after just a few days one begins to feel
connected, comfortable, maybe even a little bit possessive, of a new room,
house, street neighborhood, coffee shop, pub, and the local people you interact
with, briefly, but for a few successive days.
East Finchley has been good to me. We had our last meal at The Old White
Lion last night and were informed by our new waiter, Adam, that we have been
Gregory’s favorite guests, he said he knows this because Gregory is his best
friend. I love a little white lie!
Day one was a blur, but a very pleasant one; the lens began
to sharpen on day two, but there were so many things to learn that I still felt
like a stranger. Indeed, I was. Now I’ve learned to navigate a bit, use the
British pound a bit, and keep my belongings organized. Just crossing the street without a signal at
Bishops Avenue was perilous in the beginning.
Look right, look left-it’s like a kaleidoscope of autos mixing and
rushing about you. Quite dizzying really.
In the city the other day I was struck by a baby staring at me from the
front left window seat, her mother beyond her driving from the right. For the briefest moment I imagined the baby
to be driving, and the child wasn’t even watching the road! Being left-handed and always a bit out of
step with the predominate natural order of things is intensified by the switch
in drivers’ side of the car, cars’ side of the road, which we’ve all heard is
the opposite of America; it’s one thing to have read about it or seen it in
movies. Quite another to set out your
first day. Luckily for me, I had guidance.
And there will be no driving!
Our Beloved Blenheim, home of Agri, Roger, and the
cats. We’ll be leaving Dan &
Decarlo’s Coffee Shop and Deli in about half an hour, collecting our luggage
from the Blenheim, and taking off via Tube to catch the train to Paris. So glad I started in England, a great
introduction to out of country travel, fantastic and manageable. Paris will be more taxing on my abilities. Here I blend in and people seem to find the
American accent charming. In France, I
fear this won’t be the case. My French
is practically nonexistent, and the few words and phrases I do know will no
doubt get tangled and misused and will sound like a turkey’s gobble rather than
a nightingale. I know it will be good
for me; it’s the French people, my unwilling or willing tutors, that I worry
about. I sleep tonight in Paris in the Marais.
Au Revoir!
Bodies of Smoke
From
Bodies of Smoke
"The day was suddenly quieter, or maybe it just seemed to hush as Jan witnessed the spectacle of ashes falling all around him, slowly turmbling out of the sky, carried on the soft breeze from some unknown fire. He looked toward the forest, thinking of a wildfire, but the sky in that direction was serenely blue. The wind was blowing from the other direction, anyway. It was coming from town. Oswiecim. There was a railroad station there, and a camp.
Jan continued to stand, face upturned, wondering what was happening. What new calamity might this foretell? Maybe the whole world was going to light itself on fire. Maybe it already had.
Ashes continued to float down on his face, his head, his shoulders, cradling themselves in his outstretched hands. Finally, ashes covered all of the roses."
Bodies of Smoke
copyright protected, R L Johnstone-Pohlman, March 14, 2010
What Are You Reading? The Two-Minute Book Review Series
- Wallace, David Foster. A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again.
- Foer, Jonathan Safran. Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
- Irving, John. A Widow for One Year
- Didion, Joan. The Year of Magical Thinking.
- Dunn, Mark. Ella Minnow Pea.
- Donnelly, Jennifer. A Northern Light.
- Kingsolver, Barbara. Prodigal Summer. This is one of my favorite novels; it's lush and filled with nature imagery, humorous and thought provoking. Entirely wonderful.
- Knapp, Caroline. Drinking: A Love Story. For anyone wondering about the alcoholic experience, here's your book. Exceedingly readable and feels absolutely honest.
- Salinger, J.D. The Catcher in the Rye
- Gaiman, Neil. Neverwhere
- Zusak, Markus. The Book Thief. As my writer friend says, "This is the book I wish I wrote." A book narrated by Death about a little girl living in Germany during WWII. This book will always live in my library!
- Selznick, Brian. The Invention of Hugo Cabret. YA Graphic Novel. Some of my teen readers loved it, others found it too simple.
- Colfer, Eoin Colfer. Airman. This book was voted favorite of the year with my middle school age book club.
- du Maurier, Daphne. Rebecca
- Card, Orson Scott. Ender's Game
- Proulx, Annie. Brokeback Mountain
- Spinelli, Jerry. Milkweed
- King, Stephen. On Writing
- Hamilton, Edith. Mythology
- Lamott, Anne. Bird by Bird. My favorite book on writing!
- Gilbert, Elizabeth. Committed.
- Skibell, Joseph. A Blessing on the Moon. An amazing Holocaust tale..this book stays with me. I want to read it again for the first time!
- Anderson, M.T. The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing
- Harris, JoAnne. The Girl With No Shadow
Poetry Corner
"August in Waterton, Alberta" by Bill Holm
Above me, wind does its best
to blow leaves off
the aspen tree a month too soon.
No use wind. All you succeed
in doing is making music, the noise
of failure growing beautiful.
"Lincoln by Vachel Lindsey"
Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all,
That which is gendered in the wilderness
From lonely prairies and God's Tenderness.
Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream,
Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream,
Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave,
Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire--
Fire that freed the slave.
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