Hodgepodge 15/365 - Courage

I am finally reading a book I've had on my shelf for a few years now, A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan. It's amazing! I've flagged so many fabulous passages. And I just now hit one that I thought I might share on Facebook, it's that good—but when I started to, I realized that not everyone would get it. By which maybe I mean agree with it, but maybe even more: have a reality that allows them to see just why I find it so marvelous. A reality that includes love of words and language, love of thought and ideas, love of idealism, of tolerance, of difference, even love of country (because I've traveled, both in the country and outside it). But also a reality that includes profound discomfort with the world as it is now.

So: what better place than here? This blog is about sharing, yes, for sure—but in a different way than FB is. It's also about me, my sensibilities, my reality, but as a way to reach out to others who, in some way, for whatever reason, enjoy me. There's some of that on FB. But FB is like a bustling city of 15 million. My blog is . . . oh, I think I might have six steady readers. Maybe only three. I don't mind. I'm glad for my little village. It's my own secret, password-protected fort (the word for today: courage).

Anyway, here's that passage:

"Rebecca was an academic star. Her new book was on the phenomenon of word casings, a term she'd invented for words that no longer had meaning outside quotation marks. English was full of these empty words—'friend' and 'real' and 'story' and 'change'—words that had been shucked of their meanings and reduced to husks. Some, like 'identity,' 'search,' and 'cloud,' had clearly been drained of life by their Web usage. With others, the reasons were more complex; how had 'American' become an ironic term? How had 'democracy' come to be used in an arch, mocking way?"

I have to confess that, this last week, whenever the word democracy has crossed my mind or my screen, I've instantly supplied it with quotation marks. I am heartsick at . . . oh, so much about this election. I am doing my best to skirt it all (reading great fiction sure helps!), but I feel that my reality has been seriously jarred. I don't really want to see, much less talk, to friends who I know to be Republican, and so who voted for Trump. (Though their vote didn't count here in California.) I don't want to listen to NPR while I drive, which is my usual pastime, because I know the "transition" will be being discussed, or something else about Trump. Ditto New York Times. And I have been spending less time on FB—not a bad thing in itself, but the reason is not so good: dismay, despair, revulsion, helplessness, hopelessness.

The term American is ironic now, I think. We are a whole lot of apathy and smaller, equal parts hate/fear and . . . well, I'm not even sure what the left is now. I hope we're a sleeping giant waking up, to battle the hate and fear. I hope the Democrats in Congress come out roaring. But I am far from confident that that will happen. I fear so many goods that have been done will now be undone. Yes, I am afraid. No ironic quotes around that word.

I hope democracy can redeem itself. And America. I may be afraid, but I can't give up all hope, now can I?

Courage. Goddammit.