We Have Entered the Doldrums

It happens every summer. The doldrums of the publishing seasons. We still have plenty of work from the publisher client, but the bookstore arrivals have ground to a bit of a halt as the yearly supremacy of the ‘beach read’ begins. If that’s your thing, this is definitely an exciting time to go check out your local independent bookstore.

But my idea of summer reading is Svetlana Alexievich’s Chernobyl Prayer.

Yeah. It’s not my season.

But I use this time to plumb the depths of my book stacks and to focus more on classic literature rather than the contemporary. And I also count the days until the end of August and early September when there will be a flood of new things for me to sift through and get excited about. Hopefully my stacks will be depleted enough by then to accommodate the influx of new arrivals.

A Book of Many Facets

It’s hard to describe David Wojnarowicz’s Close to the Knives. The book not only does many things at once, it actually does all of those things very well. Wojnarowicz’s gives a harrowing account of the AIDS crisis and describes both what it was like to receive and live with his diagnosis as well as what it was like to watch so many friends die of the disease. He rages at the government, the health care system, and the religious bigotry that is helping to kill him — both in body and in soul. He talks about a traumatic childhood, and years wandering in search of himself and of a community.

There is so much here and all of it calls out from a place of desperation and morality as well as resonating vulnerability. Wojnarowicz is asking us to listen to him crying from his deathbed and the reader cannot turn away.

Realities of Erasure

Not a lot of books manage to make me cry, but this one did when it discussed the realities of erasure and what it feels like to be confronted with only representations of heterosexuality in daily life and media. I feel so lucky to be living in a time when same-sex marriage is legal in my country. When I can go to the grocery store with my lovely spouse and hold her hand and no one gives us a second glance.

And in every playground, invariably, there’s a kid who screamed, F——!, in frustration at some other kid and the sound of it resonated in my shoes. That instant solitude, that breathing glass wall that no one else saw.

But erasure is still a thing. It is something we still have to confront. We grew up in a world where it still wasn’t talked about much. Where we were not seen. I am so happy that future generations will not have to go through the pain of not seeing themselves represented, but it’s important to acknowledge that these things did happen and the trauma is hard to heal from.

Hope for the Future

Wojnarowicz writes about a lot of difficult things. There is a lot of despair here that makes the reading arduous at times. But it’s important to remember that he also calls the reader to action. He demands for better for the generations beyond him. He wants us to fight for a better future and to also enjoy what good there is in the present. Don’t give up. Keep going and smell the flowers while you can.

Uncomfortable moment? Wojnarowicz describes Reagan as the worst president possible. Wow, he had no idea what was coming. Sigh.

Fire Domes?

I am reminded this week why I don’t look at the seasonal long-range forecasts. Every time I do, they not only seem to get worse, but also weirder. What the hell is a ‘Dome of Fire’? What is that going to mean for my garden?

I’m still being paranoid about daily rainfall. I should know that I cannot handle months of bad news delivered in one little clickbait-y package.