Day 2,172, Quasi-Quarantine: Heavy-Handed Start Stalls Quest Of "The Emergency" To Serve As Contemporary Satirical Parable

“This was how empires of old that he had learned about in school fell: imperceptibly, then shockingly. Even with an enemy army gathered outside the walls, no one can believe that a way of life is about to end or imagine the strange new life that will replace it.”

Known more for his non-fiction work (like "Last Best Hope"), George Packer starts off a little shaky in his novel "The Emergency." His depiction of the collapse of civilization and separation into three distinct foes -- the Burghers, Yeoman, and Strangers -- feels too on the nose, leaving little room for subtlety.

“‘We applaud to make them feel more welcome,’ she said.

‘And that works?’

“Annabelle frowned. ‘Irony isn’t helpful here.’”

However, the satirical parable finds its footing in the relationship between Dr. Hugo Rustin and his 14-year-old daughter, Selva. As they set out on a humanitarian mission to contested territory, Huge wrestles with his irrelevance in a society that no longer honors titles and distinction. Selva tries to find a new identity after academics have been rendered obsolete, struggling to interpret the principles of Together, the new society's loosely defined collection of beliefs and principles.

“Together language tried to make everything ugly vanish by fiat, which meant the ugliness would persist–for nothing could be changed if it couldn’t be faced, and nothing could be faced if it couldn’t be named.”

As the novel progresses, the writing becomes less heavy-handed, though there are some significant plot holes. "The Emergency" adopts a better pace in the final chapters, upping the tension and more deftly depicting the class and intergenerational conflicts.

“He found that the circle of his concern had shrunk from humanity, the empire, and the city to the people in this room.”

Packer is at his best when he is obliquely commenting on the ripple effects of AI and the dissolution of government, and this work is a worthy entry to the canon of dystopian fiction that reflects our current moment.

“Something was ending, and they were too old to understand. What came after would belong to their children. But they would go on opening the door, and in this way they would live.”

Day 2,164, Quasi-Quarantine: Posthumous "Largesse Of The Sea Maiden" Highlights Profound, Absorbing Elements Of Denis Johnson's Writing

“I’m not the type to trudge along. I’m the type to come shooting off the block, get twenty yards ahead of everybody else, and go stumbling and sprawling off onto the sidelines with a collapsed lung.”

~“The Starlight of Idaho”

Denis Johnson's stunning, posthumous collection of short stories touches on weighty themes of mortality and nostalgia, but does so with a winking nod and a dose of self-deprecation that makes these tools irresistible.

“My Grandma puts it that Cass if you keep drinking your babies will come out crosseyed, and you’ll end up buried in a strange town with your name spelled wrong on your grave.”

~“The Starlight of Idaho”

"The Largesse of the Sea Maiden" is highlighted for me by "The Starlight of Idaho" and "Triumph Over the Grave," but there's something within each of these five stories for everyone. Johnson is at the top of his game, with his traditional musical prose merging with absorbing narratives.

“I note that I’ve lived longer in the past, now, than I can expect to live in the future. I have more to remember than I have to look forward to. Memory fades, not much of the past stays, and I wouldn’t mind forgetting a lot more of it.”

~“The Largesse of the Sea Maiden”

The brilliant Johnson toys with ideas of religion and legacy, ultimately delivering a work that has to rank among the finest short-story sets in the history of American literature -- and a moving treasure offered just after his death.

“What do you want? I said.

“All of you is mine already, he said. So what difference does it make what I want?

“I said, Are you a messenger of God?

“Worse, he said.

“I said, What could be worse than a messenger of God?”

~“The Starlight of Idaho”

Day 2,159, Quasi-Quarantine: "Barbarian Days" Rides A Long Wave To Inner Peace And Fulfillment

“Waves are not stationary objects in nature like roses or diamonds. They’re quick, violent events at the end of a long chain of storm action and ocean reaction. Even the most symmetrical breaks have quirks and a totally specific, local character, changing with every shift in tide and wind and swell.”

William Finnegan's autobiography is much a discussion of mortality as it as a love letter to surfing, with the melodic prose speaking to the spiritual experience of the sport and where it has taken him in his life.

"Barbarian Days" documents the violence that seemed to be a natural element of the author's upbringing, and the way it sparked his desire to experience the world at an incredibly young age. The Pulitzer Prize-winning work follows his travails across the world in his quixotic quest for the great unexplored wave.

“Big waves are violent and scary, full stop, and the bigger they are, generally speaking, the scarier and more violent they are. To anthropomorphize: big waves want, desperately, to drown you. Very few people surf them, and that’s the only reason they don’t kill more people than they do.”

Some of the events took place half a century prior, so a reader might wonder how accurate some of the remembrances are. Also, most dedicated surfers are inherently selfish -- minutely focused on the ocean and its subculture -- so the author definitely comes across as a pretty shitty partner in many ways.

“Chasing waves in a dedicated way was both profoundly egocentric and selfless, dynamic and ascetic, radical in its rejection of the values of duty and conventional achievement.”

But within the tale, Finnegan touches on growing old, his role in failed relationships, the loss of his parents, and his struggles to settle. "Barbarian Days" is a beautifully written book that accepts that it's all right not to try to explain the unexplainable.

“Surfing is a secret garden, not easily entered. My memory of learning a post, of coming to know and understand a wave, is usually inseparable from the friend with whom I tried to climb its walls.”

Day 2,158, Quasi-Quarantine: NC State's Heel-Stomping Brings Up Memories Of '95

 

Thirty years ago Scooter looks just as surprised as I did last night when the Pack absolutely pancreas-kicked UNC by 24 points. 

Go Pack, Young Scooter.

Day 2,151, Quasi-Quarantine: Celebrating The Hops In Puzzle Form

The "Crafty" puzzle from Happily was another fun one, documenting 48 different craft breweries from around the globe. This 1,000-piecer was made in the Netherlands and showcased some truly tremendous cans and obscure microbreweries.

The only (small) downside was that three sets of hands put this one together, so I perhaps didn't get an opportunity to spend time with and appreciate this one enough. Regardless, it was a winner -- and the more the merrier, with puzzlers and beer alike!

8.4, would solve amid icy blasts again

Day 2,149, Quasi-Quarantine: "Lazarus Man" Documents Atonement, Hope, Depression, And Community In Strata Of NYC

“Mary, still focused on trying to figure him out, at least had no doubt about the genuineness of his anguish, and for a moment it made her want him to be the real thing, despite all the signs and portents and poetic phrasing that whispered to her otherwise.”

A collapsed building and the impact it has on a series of interconnected lives is the subject of Richard Price's most recent novel. "Lazarus Man" explores the ramifications and repercussions of decisions made, using gritty New York City as a central character.

“He took me to a Mets game once when I was eight, we’re in a bar by the stadium beforehand and I told him I was worried we were going to miss the start. So what does he do? He orders himself another beer, says to me, ‘Look down there,’ and I see three Mets sitting at the short end of the wood throwing back cocktails.

“He says, ‘When they leave, we leave.’”

Price's cast stumbles through monotonous lives, ruined relationships, abusive situations, and small glimpses of happiness (sometimes even in the midst of petty crime). The novel brilliantly demonstrates how connections and communities form, allowing you to root for characters -- both despite and because of their supreme flaws.

“ … Within each of us lies the power to surprise ourselves with who we never knew we could be.”

Limerick Friday #649: Saying Goodbye To A Life Fully Lived -- Day 2,146

What a life he had

When you can look past the sad

Didn't always see eye to eye

But I'm gonna miss that guy

Semper Paratus, Dad

Lotta changes for Dolphin Nation

A mix of doubt and elation

But they finally seem to have a plan

That doesn't involve resurrecting Dan

Just hoping for a playoff win this generation

A welcome distraction

From the fascism faction

"Stranger Things" arrived on the scene

Made me remember being a teen

Before the dread of the world gained traction

A bumpy start for Will Wade

The haters thought they had it made

Then the Wolfpack got a taste

And the Red Road Warriors laid waste

Now into their holes all the clowns fade

Everyone looking to lay blames

And favor certain suck-up names

Frauds and butt sniffers

I guess my way differs

I do the shit and skip the games

Last time ...