Nice Reader Comment…

…about my book. The woman writing is the daughter of one of Norman’s university friends.

They [the letters] are amazing.  And I had no idea about the poems.  They all put my concept of Norman in a completely different light. I had always thought about Norm’s death as so tragic — as an extinguished candle.  But that he was able to write what he did, explicitly to reflect upon and articulate his life and his relation to others so fully, makes me feel less the tragedy and more the celebration of a life astonishingly well lived and, in the Socratic sense, well-examined.  I was amazed at his ability to write “yet my heart and life are whole” — so beautiful! — and then to follow it with “I hope” — which returns us to grounded life as he lived it, and to the humility that he showed alongside his amazing strength of character.  It left me speechless.  He lived so well.  And the letters to Rigmore are amazing — the love for a sister, but also a sort of fellow artist, wanting her to know the truth without having to experience it all.  Alcohol, the comic version, and wolves — those were just great — and how he wanted her to be honest in confronting life while protecting her from it.  And that letter to his parents …  Not many people, however long they live, ever get to put into words what he was able to write.  These words of his, which live on, which you have preserved and offered to the world, really changed my whole picture of what it can mean for a life to be cut short.  Too short, yes — but also lived so fully…Whether or not you issue further editions, what you have done in offering these letters to the world is wonderful beyond words.  Your book so honors Norman and all the hopes and spirit reflected in all that he wrote — and so many other men (and women) who were part of his story, and beyond it.

Thank you, dear reader!

Once We Had Leaders: Pearl Harbor Edition

Now we have Biden and Justin. (See below.)

On this 80th anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, I think back to my time in Japan. There was so much I loved and a few things I didn’t like all that much. One of the latter was the belief of many of my students (Japanese adults) that not only were they (Japanese people) merely victims – not perpetrators – of the war, but that they were the war’s primary victims. Of course, some of them were victims, but they did not see their country as being in the wrong, or as being an aggressor, or as having been the driving force behind the laying waste to at least one continent.

There was much we could not discuss with them – it was not verboten, but it wasn’t worth the tension it caused and it potentially could have given us grief with our bosses, both Japanese and Canadian. The Japanese didn’t seem to have achieved German levels of ownership on the matter. (A post on the Japanese surrender here.) Why discuss such things? Good question, and for the most part I tried to avoid it, but adults love talking politics and, of course, on certain anniversaries it would be a natural topic. This was in the 1990s, but I have friends still in Japan who say it remains a touchy matter.

Vivat Elizabeth

Melanie Phillips has written a great tribute to Queen Elizabeth II. The Queen is the nation, she writes, she must live forever. I’ll admit to having the same feeling about Her Majesty. I was upset to see that she was not able to attend the Remembrance service yesterday in London. You know she isn’t well, if that is the case – we know what these things mean to her. I had also been a bit surprised to see her looking gaunt a few weeks ago, but, as my spouse points out, Elizabeth is 95 and she lost her dear husband earlier this year. Of course, she cannot live forever. We know this. But her vulnerability brings something even more meaningful, more profound, to her relationship with her subjects. Giles Fraser writes about this phenomenon at Unherd.

Indeed, the version of the Queen that we are now seeing is the greatest of her roles as our monarch. It is not important if she misses COP26 or other political talking shops. She is doing something much more important now.

She is showing us what human life is all about when we loosen our grip on power and status and function. Her last act may well be her finest.

Mort Sahl

Mort Sahl died, and, apart from his contributions and life, there is something else noteworthy about his passing: an extraordinary piece of writing about him. It is rare that I say, about the New York Times, “Wow, what excellent journalism,” but I will say it about this obituary. Do read it. I’ll admit to getting tremendously sentimental when I watch clips of Sahl, as my parents were certainly big fans. He was that era’s sophisticate – without being condescending – and he revolutionized comedy – without ever being vulgar. There is a terrific clip of Sahl embedded in the linked-above piece. Watch it and ask yourself who the 2021 equivalent of this man is: I can’t think of anyone. What a shame.