A Short Walk into Afternoon - Kaatje Hurlbut

Kaatje Hurlbut born - 1921

A fair story – nothing spectacular. It passed through it and will probably forget it in a matter of months.

A young girl is forced to spend time with a wealthy New York aunt. Summertime, boredom, time to reflect.

This is one of those stories that you read, and wonder why you just spent your valuable time flipping the pages. I mean, I’m not upset that I read it...I just can’t at the moment find the lessons that I was taught in this story (with the thought that all of these stories will instruct...I do believe this). I do think that this is a story similar to some in the previous volume that hampered my progress in this reading and writing project. I suppose though that I should consider that I will not always have “lovely” stories to read. Some will be just as this one...a bit of a chore.

Although...as I sit and write this and reflect on the story, I feel the lessons starting to rise to the surface. I am starting to recall the summers that my sister and I would spend with my father in Chestnut Hill, Upper Darby and then Cinnaminson. We would love to be there but at the same time, there were elements of us doing time in a prison. We hadn’t any friends and most of our waking hours were spent at day camps or attempting to entertain ourselves...either together or by our selves, I mean, how much can two pre teen and teen siblings “hang” with each other.

Just as the character in Hurlbut’s story, we would at times conceive of plans, or directly act in a way as to move events forward, or at least in a direction that suited us. I also suppose that we played a bit on the guilt of divorced parents.

Hummm- looks like the story did something after all. Good for it.

Score 7 out of 10.

Fighting Books

I set a pretty high bar for myself with the reading schedule for BASS that I calculated which would last me well into my old age. I have the problem of having so many books that I want to, and need to, read. Here are the books that are currently fighting for and winning my attention over the BASS that I should be reading.

The Portable Atheist - Christopher Hitchens

Joker One - Donovan Campbell

Censoring an Iranian Love Story - Shahriar Mandanipour

The Tipping Point - Malcolm Gladwell

The Devil We Know - Robert Baer

Home and Native Land – Sean Virgo

Sean Virgo (1940 - )

I think that the picture I found of Virgo is one of the coolest I have discovered of an author to include in this blog. There is something about him in this photo that I find very interesting. Perhaps he is fitting nicely into the mold that I have created of a 70’s poet. The long hair, spacey look in the eyes, disheveled clothing...and I have studied the photo...but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what he is holding up to the photographer. In his left hand he seems to have a small cup of something that he has pulled something he is holding in his right hand.

My mind went directly to a drug. It’s almost as if he is offering it to me...just can’t figure out what he is doing.

I tell you what though...if I was in that room with him, and it was a drug, I would probably take what he offered.

I agree with the great minds of our species that feel that poets, singers artists authors...what ever you want to label them as....are the true educators of our kind. We should with question and wisdom of our own learning, absorb what they have to offer...song, painting, photo, stories etc.

So, if Sean Virgo offered me an interesting drug...I would consider it. By reading what he has written, and researching his life and what he has given to this world, I think it would be a nice decision to accept what he would offer.

Concerning the story, I think Virgo’s background as a poet shined through giving a sort of easiness to the reading. The Pacific North West and having Native Americans as characters also gave something fresh to my mind. It’s a nice short little piece with the substance needed to pull you and as well as disturb you. In this case, you can see Oates chose the story for the disturbing nature of the plot.

Score 8 out of 10

An Exile in the East – Flannery O’Connor

Flannery O’Connor – March 25 1925 – August 3 1964

What a writer. Of everything she accomplished and of all the prais she earned during her life and after her death, the one accomplishment, and merit that stands out to me is this.

In 1946 she was accepted into the prestigious Iowa Writers' Workshop.

I enjoyed reading the brief bio of Flannery I found on the net. I could find longer and more revealing reports on her but I really don’t think it’s necessary for my purposes. It comes as no surprise that O’Connor occupies the second slot in this edition. JCO was a huge fan of hers and you can find countless articles/reviews that will mention both authors together.

I enjoyed the blunt raw language O’Connor uses in this short story. It’s just this language and subject matter that made her who she was. The idea of being an exile is something that I think most of us have dealt with in some form sometime in our lives. It could be in a relationship, a place, a language, even a philosophy. Flannery does a wonderful job of allowing the reader to feel a parallel with the lead character of this story through the rich use of language as well as the jolting use of the “N” word.

Yes, it’s just a word...but I feel the strangest feelings when I hear it or read it.

One is forced to wonder what she could have produced if she lived longer.

I cannot recall if I’ve ever read O’Connor before this. This brief story though will cause me to pause a bit longer when I run past her work on a bookshelf the next time I see it.

Score – 8 out of 10