The Artificial Moonlight – Donald Justice

Donald Justice - August 12, 1925 - August 6, 2004

During the period of my life when I would have developed the friendships and connections that the characters in this story shared, I was busy wasting time in my life.

I had a pretty solid base, actually, a very solid base, of friends that I made in college, but as college friends usually do, we scattered ourseleves across the country.

These friends were made during a shared struggle. The friendships served their purpose, and actually, I think that there would only be a couple of guys that I would classify as “true friends” that came out of those 4 years.

After leaving school, I bumbled around and didn’t create any lasting friendships.

I had not yet discovered the direction that my life need to move in and I was attempting to live out all of the experiences that I missed in college (sow my wild oats).

Would I trade that time?

Simply – no.

Soon, I realized that I need to get my act together, I found myself in another country where I was isolated not only by geography but my language and culture.

I made friends and even met my wife - but again, – nothing like the characters in the story.

Later - For the past ten years – back in the States, work has kept me busy during the days, and socializing with people during non work hours outside of my family is something that I really haven’t done.

Looking at myself from about 1,000 feet, I can see that I have chosen a small circle of people to really care about.

I have seen them grow and develop over the years, and I continue to be amazed by the transformations of their lives.

This atmosphere that I have created for myself is one that allows me a bit of weightlessness.

I am living a happy life. Those closest to me are happy with me, and I with them- ...after all, this is all that matters – right?

Inexorable Progress – Mary Hood

Mary Hood - September 16, 1946

You pass people everyday who are fighting it. People at your place of work, school in your neighborhood store or at your place of worship. A black clawing menace that if not brought under control will push them to death.

It’s scary man...really scary.

You think you know someone... and then well, it’s too late.

And what’s even more frightening, is that some people are really good at hiding their internal struggle until it’s too late.

Their actions take everyone by surprise and lay waste to the conscience of those who thought they knew.

You see, no one really knows another.

There is so much hidden within us all.

We do a wonderful job of giving the world an image that we feel it wants from us.

We let it down for a select few – our parents, siblings, spouses or really good friends...but, I honestly believe that there is a little bit within each of us that never makes it to the surface – a little bit that we keep hidden within our selves.

Out of shame.

Mary Hood does a wonderful job in a difficult format – the short story, to present the everywoman – and the disturbing turn her life takes as she wrestles with her black clawing menace – and sadly the inability to find relief through suicide when she is brought back by the hands of our society to face the evils within her once again.

Her character saw a door, an escape.

We all have so many difficulties in our lives. This world that we live in is tough.

But of all those difficulties that we face, how many are created by us?

Magnified by us to a point where sane management is out of our reach?

Modern medicine has allowed us to disguise so many things about ourselves. Mental illness and sexual dysfunction are right up there at the top for Americans.

The number of Americans popping Soma pills daily to make it through their lives is incredible.

Do they need the pills?

Sure they do.

Do they abuse the pills?

Sure they do.

They are human aren’t they?

Why wouldn’t they?

This is our world – their reality.

Lena – Mavis Gallant

Mavis Gallant - August 11, 1922 –

I come to a Gallant story, and I can’t say that I’m excited by it contained in the collection. It’s usually the cause of a reading speed bump for me. She doesn’t pull me through to read the story and I often set the anthology aside, dreading reading her. And you know there really isn’t a good reason for this behavior.

I think with Gallant, one has to be in the right frame of mind to accept what she has written.

I have to let my mind settle before I can deal with her.

This is the forth time I have encountered Gallant...and I am pleased with the volume editor for including her. She did her job and was a speed bump – the BASS 1984 has fallen to the side and I haven’t cracked it for some time.

I pushed through Gallant and in the end, was rewarded.

It’s hard to let go of a “love”.

I think that I have over the years developed an attitude where I am able to let go of my attachments.

I recognize the selfish nature of “keeping something”.

There are far more important things in life than ones possessions – or possessing another.

There is no reason why you can’t keep loving someone/something, but to allow them to remain under your control or for you to fail to release them – well, it’s just not worth it.

And, this attitude falls under my daily and hourly struggle for self-discipline – my struggle to fight against that which I cannot control within myself.

I feel pity for myself at times for my inability to let-go.

A Father's Story - Andre Dubus

Andre Dubus - August 11, 1936 - February 24, 1999

Sitting down to write about Dubus is so intimidating because he is so freak’in good.

I mean, really good.

And this story, “A Father’s Story” has to be one of his best.

If you know a bit about Dubus, then you know that he was horribly injured in a car accident back in 1986...three years after he wrote this story...which also contains a horrible car accident.

Reading the story gives you a bit of a creepy feeling.

What lengths would I go to protect a loved one?

My wife?

My sister?

My mother?

My father?

My child?

What demons –of my own mind - would I be willing to face as a result of protecting them?

Would I hesitate and allow that question to enter my mind or would I act and deal with the results?

Because I am about to have a small life enter into my world, I know that I will be faced with the task of developing a whole new set of decision making parameters.

That’s all I really have to say about this story.

The message caused me to pause and take stock of my character and wonder how it will morph over the next several years.

And that is something that beautiful art can do to a person.

Now do it.

Question yourself.

Gent – Rick DeMarinis

Rick DeMarinis May 3, 1934

As DeMarinis told an interviewer on NPR Performance Today in 1988, "what we do to each other [is] often grotesque and often result[s] in life dilemmas that are almost insoluble."

Several stories, in fact, ironically question the legitimacy of "normalcy" itself, asking how abusive or controlling aspects of human behavior can become comfortably "ordinary."

I chose the two quotes above to bring into my lesson for this story because I felt that they most closely aligned with what DeMarinis was attempting to tell me.

I find myself examining the behavior of others quite a bit, and with more frequency, as I attempt to understand my own behavior.

I’ve been thinking a lot my father’s behavior especially now as I am going to have the chance to be a father myself.

I have mentioned before in these lessons that I really have a difficult time understanding why my father would undertake the challenge of being a father and then step back, look at the long view, and decide to abandon it...in the traditional way.

I suppose that the two quotes at the top really highlight his behavior. My father leaving the family was considered “normal”. Divorce had become more accepted and, well, I suppose I shouldn’t lay the whole thing on him, both my mother and father felt that it was the right thing to do at the time.

Over the years though it has become apparent that my mother was never in favor of the divorce.

Which begs another question.

Her actions over the years – or inaction and silence. Was it, or could it have been, as damaging as my father’s actions?

Sure, I’d say so – there has to be a balance to everything.

My inability recently to really articulate my thoughts to others may be due to me being afraid of offending them in some way. I am really holding back in what I say to others in most situations.

Is this a good thing?

Well, it certainly spares their feelings but at the same time, I walk around feeling like an idiot most of the time.

I have learned to measure out my words before I speak them.

I loved this story because there was something disturbing lurking beneath the surface the entire time.

Just like life.

Looking across the tranquil lake of our life, we have forgot that below that ice still surface lies murky waters with creatures ready to alter our lives in ways that...well... DeMarinis warns us of.

We go about our day to day activities – almost numb – but safe, while our mind has developed the ability to filter out – for our own protection – all the incoming information that could potentially harm us...the really disturbing events that occur around us all the time.

We’ve become desensitized...we have lost the sense of the hunter and the prey – being both in one.

So, I have to filter my words going out, and pull down the filter of everything coming in.

Reality – face it, accept it, live it.

The Cure – Mary Ward Brown

Mary Ward Brown - June 18, 1917

Not surprising that Updike decided to include this short in the collection. If a story had to do with the latter portion of one’s life especially the section where we die, it seems as if the story was almost a shoe-in.

I think about death, and I think about my own death which is obvious when one looks back over my posts.

Now in thinking about my death, I also think about ways to avoid a premature death. I really pay close attention to what I eat and I engage in pretty intense physical activities throughout the week – all with the intention of making my life more pleasurable and extending out my life.

Now, with a little boy on the way, I have even more of a reason to keep the old heart a beat’in.

Putting my body through some of the runs I choose to make causes a bit of discomfort from time-to-time. When I first started running I searched every imaginable website for the cures to fix what was hurting me. I eventually learned to take the advice of my own body and allow it to cure itself through time and rest. Our mind and body can do wonderful things and when we are in tune with it and choose to really listen to it, the best prescriptions are written by us.

In the Red Room – Paul Bowles

Paul Bowles - December 30, 1910 – November 18, 1999

I don’t think a week goes by that I look back at a situation I was in, and discover that I was unable to make myself understood to someone, and must have looked like the incompetent man that I too often see myself as.

Twice today as a matter of fact, during a conversation, I found a away to incorporate the telling of a story that had now need for inclusion in the conversation. The people that were on the receiving end of my tale will certainly think twice about engaging me in conversation again. You see, I am aware that what I say and what I write is...well...nothing all that special.

I know that my command of the language both spoken and written is nothing special. The fact that I recognize that though is good. I believe I have my ego in check.

I wonder, why though I feel the need to share my stories. To inject them into conversations?

To take people into my “Red Room”?

Most people don’t really want to hear other people’s stories unless they ask to hear them. If you offer to tell someone a story, chances are that they will only listen to it with one ear.

I need to keep this irritating little habit under control.