Mozart

 

Mozart: A Life, by Maynard Solomon © 1995

 

I spent the past five weeks winding my way through a thick biography of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Why? Well, first of all, Little One spent a weekend of her semester abroad back in March in Austria, specifically Salzburg, a small city whose main claim to fame is it being Mozart’s birthplace. Then a few days later, completely at random and with eerie synchronicity, I spotted the above biography on sale for $1 at my local library. I took it as a sign and put it in the immediate On-Deck Circle. Third, and on a lesser note, I have been browsing through my copy of Schonberg’s Lives of the Composers while listening to my growing record collection and felt like I might want to augment it with a small book collection. And finally, I realized that the only thing I really knew of the great Mozart is what I remembered from that movie Amadeus, parts of which I last saw forty years ago.

 

Anyway, the biography taught me much about the great composer. Generally and invariably Mozart is regarded as one of the Big Three of classical music: Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven. In my amateur career as a classical music enthusiast and aficionado, however, I wouldn’t have put him in my top three. I was fairly familiar with his major works and appreciated his crisp, clear, clean compositional style, but it didn’t move me. Would it, after a thorough reading of this biography?

 

I felt the best way to answer this question was to also listen to at least one piece by the maestro every day. All in all, I listened to 45 compositions while working my way through the biography.

 

I did a little research before starting the book. Mozart: A Life was a finalist in the Pulitzer Price biography category. Solomon himself founded Vanguard Records and taught at Julliard, in addition to several Ivy League schools. He also authored a similar biography of Beethoven. Skimming through it I saw numerous pages of musical scores, so with excited anticipation I dove in.

 

And was kinda disappointed. Overall, if pressed I’d give the book a B+. True, I left feeling that I knew Wolfgang; it filled in a lot of gaps from my sparse knowledge of his life and I gained a working knowledge of his, er, work. But right from the start and running almost through the entire 519 pages was Mozart’s oppressive, domineering, often misguided father Leopold. Mozart was a child prodigy, a virtuoso on the keyboard and quite adept at the violin, who began composing at age 5. His father, a middling composer himself whose abrasive personality failed to secure him a prominent position in any of the courts of Europe, saw in the boy a means to bring fame and financial success to the family. Mozart’s older sister was also a virtuoso in her own right, and Leopold had them touring northern Europe and Italy several times as children, performing before royalty and the upper classes. So the biography devoted a hefty chunk to psychoanalyzing our hero.

 

(And I realized that Mozart’s best 20th-century analog – and it’s not a perfect comparison – would be to a certain extent Michael Jackson.)

 

Solomon also devotes a crazy amount of space on Mozart’s finances – how much he earned per performance, how much he earned per year, his expenses, Leopold’s finances, the family finances, the finances of the family of Mozart’s wife, Constanze Weber, and how much composers and musicians earned at the time and in which city in service to which prince. It was all so distracting and ultimately meaningless. Mozart lives on for his music, not for the amount of ducats, florins, kreuzers, or louis d’ors that flowed through his coffers.

 

In fairness, Solomon does devote three entire chapters, one in each Part, to Mozart’s compositions: Chapter 8, “A Composer’s Voice”, Chapter 24, “Fearful Symmetries”, and an analysis of his opera in the ultimate chapter, Chapter 32, “The Power of Music.” All well and good and interesting. I’d like to re-read these three chapters in the future. But I think I’d like even better (and perhaps this exposes my lack of familiarity with Mozart’s works) is a more chronological approach where each major work is explained in terms of how Mozart’s mastery evolved and the effect each had upon the zeitgeist.

 

One thing I learned almost immediately, and the one thing I’d like you to take away from this post, is that the award-winning 1984 film Amadeus is a complete work of fiction. It’s based on nearly two-hundred-year-old speculation that grew into its own mythology. Just about every detail about Amadeus is incorrect, save for the fact that Mozart was an 18th-century composer who married a woman named Costanze and another composer named Salieri existed around the same time. Even the movie’s writer and director called it a “fantasia on the theme of Mozart and Salieri.” One of the first things I did with Solomon’s biography was turn to the Index and look for Salieri. His name appears on 9 of the book’s 519 pages.

 

So did my opinion of Mozart change during and after reading Mozart: A Life and sampling his works on a daily basis? You bet! As stated above, I always felt his music to be crisp and clean, “pure” like water from a cold mountain stream, meandering in and out and around in the ether yet always resolving itself into the perfect notes (chords) needed at the perfect moment. Sublime. I made a conscious decision to move my focus around the music beside simply the melody, to study the undercurrents, the tempos and harmony, the internal counterpoints and countermovements, the emotions that these meanderings brought up within me. It’s hard to put into words (and now I have a little bit more sympathy for Mr. Solomon). But I enjoyed the exercises and I found myself enjoying the pieces I listened to.

 

The works I loved the most?

 

Andante (second movement) from Symphony No. 1 in E-flat, K. 16

Serenade No. 13 in G, “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”, K. 525

Andante (second movement) from Symphony No. 36 “Linz”

Serenade No. 10 in B-flat, K. 361/370a, II: Adagio

“Haydn” String Quartet No. 18 in A, K. 464, III: Andante

Cosi fan tutte, K. 588 Act I: Overture

Divertimento No. 17 in D major, IV, K. 334

Divertimento No. 17 in D major, VI, K. 334

Piano Sonata No. 3 in B-flat, K. 281

Symphony No. 29 in A, K. 201/186a

Violin Sonata No. 18 in G, K. 301

 

Mozart was born on January 27, 1756 and died on December 5, 1791, at the age of 35. He died most likely of a combination of rheumatic fever and the medical (mal)practice of the day. He was not poisoned by Salieri.

 

[N.B. 1 – Other notable Salzburgians include Paracelsus, 16th-century physician; Christian Doppler of the Doppler effect; the Von Trapps of Sound of Music fame; Herbert von Karajan, noted conductor of whom I own many of his orchestral CDs; Theodor Herzl, founder of Zionism; and Joseph Haydn’s younger brother, Johann Michael. Mozart was an acquaintance of the older Haydn and, while not exactly buddies, they did meet several times and held mutually high opinions of each other.]

 

[N.B. 2 – “K” numbers stand for Köchel numbers (pronounced between “kohshell” and “kershell” and are an attempt at a chronological catalogue of Mozart’s work published in 1862 by the man whom it’s named after. Since then it’s been revised six times, the last edition in 1964; when two K numbers appear after a work by Mozart the first represents the first edition Kochel number and the second the number of the sixth edition. The original catalogue ran up to 626 works.]

 

For those keeping score at home (and as a reference for Future Me):

 

Mozart works I own –

   Best of Mozart (CD bought May 1992)     

            Serenade in G, “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”, K. 525

            Symphony No. 29 in A, K. 201

            Symphony No. 41 in C, “Jupiter”, K. 551

            Overture to “The Marriage of Figaro”, K. 492

            Symphony No. 1 in E-flat, K 216

   Masters of Classical Music: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (CD, Christmas gift 1993)

            Eleven miscellaneous short pieces

   Mozart: The Last Five Symphonies (CD bought August 1999)     

            Symphony No. 36 in C, “Linz”, K. 425

            Symphony No. 38 in D, “Prague”, K. 504

            Symphony No. 39 in E-flat, K. 543

            Symphony No. 40 in G-minor, K. 550

            Symphony No. 41 in C, “Jupiter”, K. 551

   Mozart: Kronungsmesse (Record, Christmas gift 2022)

            Coronation Mass No. 14 in C, K. 317

Motet “Exsultate, Jubilate”, K. 165

Great Mass in Cm, K. 427

   Obras para piano a cuatro manos (Record, birthday gift 2023)

            Sonata in B-flat for Piano Four-Hands, K. 358

5 Variations in G, K. 501

Fantasia in F minor for a Mechanical Organ, K. 608

Piano Sonata in C for Four-Hands (doubtful), K. 19

   Soundtrack to the movie Amadeus (Record bought May 2024)

 

Selections of Mozart’s work I listened to while reading the biography:

   Symphony No. 41 in C, K. 551 “Jupiter”

   Horn Concerto No. 1 in D, K. 386b (K. 412/514)

   Horn Concerto No. 2 in Eb, K. 417

   Horn Concerto No. 3 in Eb, K. 447

   Horn Concerto No. 4 in Eb, K. 495

   Symphony No. 39 in Eb, K. 543

   Symphony No. 40 in Gm, K. 550 “Great G minor Symphony”

   Clarinet Concerto in A, K. 622

   Coronation Mass No. 14 in C, K. 317

   Clarinet Quintet in A, “Stadler”, K. 581

   Symphony No. 36 in C, “Linz”, K. 425

   Symphony No. 35 in D, “Haffner”, K. 385

   Symphony No. 38 in D, “Prague”, K. 504

   Serenade No. 13 in G, “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”, K. 525

   Idomeneo, re di Creta, Acts I and II, K. 366

   Piano Concerto No. 20 in D-minor, K. 466

   Piano Concerto No. 21 in C, K. 467

   Symphony No. 1 in E-flat, K. 16

   Serenade No. 10 in B-flat, I-IV, K. 361/370a “Gran Partita”

   Marriage of Figaro Overture, K. 492

   Piano Sonata No. 12 in F, K. 332/300k

   Piano Concerto No. 20 in D-minor, K. 466

   Piano Sonata No. 1 in C, K. 279

   Piano Sonata No. 2 in F, K. 280

   Piano Sonata No. 3 in B-flat, K. 281

   Die Zauberflöte, K. 620, OT and part of Act I

   Die Zauberflöte, K. 620, continuation of Act I

   “Haydn” String Quartet No. 14 in G, "Spring", K. 387

   “Haydn” String Quartet No. 15 in D minor, K. 421

   “Haydn” String Quartet No. 16 in E-flat, K. 428

   “Haydn” String Quartet No. 17 in B-flat, "The Hunt", K. 458

   “Haydn” String Quartet No. 18 in A, K. 464

   Cosi fan tutte, K. 588 Act I: Overture

   Side One of “Amadeus” Soundtrack

      Symphony No. 25 in G minor, “Little G minor Symphony”, I, K. 183

      Serenade No. 10 for Winds in B-flat, “Gran Partita”, III, K. 361

      The Abduction from the Seraglio, Turkish Finale, K. 384

      Symphony No. 29 in A, I, K. 201

   Divertimento No. 17 in D major, I-III, K. 334

   Divertimento No. 17 in D major, IV-VI, K. 334

   Piano Sonata No. 3 in B-flat, K. 281

   Piano Sonata No. 10 in C, K. 330

   Piano Sonata No. 13 in B-flat, K. 333

   Symphony No. 29 in A, K. 201/186a

   Don Giovanni, Overture, K. 527

   Violin Sonata No. 24 in F, K. 376

   Violin Sonata No. 18 in G, K. 301

   Violin Sonata No. 21 in E-minor, K. 304

   Requiem in D-minor, K. 626

Clancyverse Update

 

I just passed the halfway point in my “return to the Clancyverse” – five books and 2,790 words down. If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed with me regarding Tom Clancy’s books, it’s that they’re all still page-turners. I started re-reading his works in their internal chronologic order in the middle of March, and at this rate (about 35 pages a day or 45 minutes of daily reading) I should finish up the project around the middle of August.

 

The books I’ve completed so far are, in order of reading, Without Remorse, Patriot Games, Red Rabbit, The Hunt for Red October, and The Cardinal of the Kremlin. I’ll rank them all when I’m finished, but so far I enjoyed Cardinal the most, and remember having enjoyed it when I first read it sometime in the mid-90s.

 

The Cardinal of the Kremlin has, arguably, the most intricate plot of the first four books. There’s the high-level diplomacy of nuclear arms reduction talks. There’s the backdrop of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. There’s CIA and KGB spycraft. “CARDINAL” is the code-name for a high-level asset with deep ties to the Politburo, a World War II hero who’s seen through the faults and flaws of the corrupt Soviet government. A valued American scientist is kidnapped on our own soil. There are Bondian plot elements, too – a Russian space laser facility atop a mountain with the capability of shooting down satellites, led by a Colonel Bondarenko who has shades of “henchman” written all about him, though I always found him quite honorable and admirable. There’s a submarine subplot and our old friend, CIA agent John Clark, has a cameo.

 

I read that Cardinal was considered as a sequel to Harrison Ford’s last Jack Ryan movie, Clear and Present Danger (itself a movie sequel to Patriot Games), but the novel was found too complex to adapt. Not to mention that by this time, the late-90s, the Cold War era of 10 years prior when the novel was written, and the SDI “Star Wars” weaponry central to the plot, were somewhat dated. Ford was signed on to threepeat the role, and William Shatner – William Shatner! – was also a member of the cast, though I couldn’t discover what part. Was Captain Kirk to be the CARDINAL of the Kremlin? I dunno. This is around the time when Shatner was rebranding himself, as Leslie Nielson did fifteen years prior, as a comedian. So I’m not sure if it would’ve worked, but I have to admit the possibility intrigues and haunts me.

 

How are the novels holding up on a second read thirty years later? Well, as I feared, not as good as the first go-round, but still worthy enough to re-read. This is due, I suppose, to the 900 or so books I’ve put away since my last adventure with Jack Ryan. A lot of those books truly expanded my mind – Les Miserables, The Count of Monte Cristo, War and Peace, Moby Dick, Finnegan’s Wake, not to mention works by Dickens, Robert Silverberg, George R. R. Martin, Jorge Luis Borges. A mind, once opened and expanded, never returns to its original dimension, that quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson or Oliver Wendell Holmes, applies here. Also, there’s a unique benefit that comes when first reading a work, similar to that of reading a poem or hearing a sublime work of music, that one loses upon a second reading, and that too applies. But the bottom line is that I am enjoying the experience, and that beats spending 45 minutes a day watching 99.99 percent of anything that streaming on the tube.

 

A more detailed analysis of my thoughts on this second go-round with Clancy’s works will follow once I complete the project. I have four more “bricks” or “door-stops” to journey through: Clear and Present Danger, The Sum of All Fears, Debt of Honor, and Executive Orders. Sum is one that I’m especially looking forward to as it was my introduction to Tom Clancy, read in the crisp autumn of 1994. And I made my own executive order to remove Rainbow Six from the list, as I read it way later than the others, 1999 I think, and it doesn’t really involve Jack Ryan (it’s centered on aging John Clark), it borrows a similar plot line from Executive Orders, and, well, I have a small growing pile of other fiction on deck.

 

Happy reading, all you amateur CIA analysts!

A Return to Physics

 

 

Getting that itch again, and it must be scratched!

It started a week or two ago, with me feeling out of sorts while at work. My job is very report-intensive, something like two hundred reports a month that I merge together and modify, balancing to incoming bills with subsequent payments to be sent out. Very dry, and, well, dull. So I spend most of my day, like my co-workers, with headphones on while I wind my way down my monthly schedule of remittances. In the beginning I used to listen to music, but now I done got my dopamine all outta whack on the youtube.

 

For the longest time I’ve been watching police body cam videos, predator catching videos, true crime videos, seconds-away-from-disaster videos, etc. Dopamine overloads. A 180-degree response, I suppose, to the work life I lead. But the problem with feeding your brain 9-to-5 with such fodder is that it tends to make you quite negative, and it spills over into other areas of your life.

 

So I found myself watching – of all things – camping videos late at night right before bed. These videos are made by solo dudes (and sometimes a chick) out in the silent, lonely woods, in various climates in various tent configurations. I enjoy the ones in the rain mostly, then ones in the snow. They’re usually around 45 minutes long and are extremely peaceful and relaxing. I myself have not camped since I was a boy, and right now do not have any interest in actually doing it myself (nor does the Mrs.). But it kinda resets my dopamine for a better night’s sleep, I guess.

 

If these police and crime videos are fraying me out, would there be a better thing to watch as I’m manipulating my spreadsheets (since camping videos are a little too mellow for work)? Yes! I discovered some physics channels on Youtube, and I’ve been watching them over the past few days and they’ve reignited my physics passion.

 

As a single-digit youngling, the book above was one of my all-time favorites. I read it too many times to count. My zone of interest was atomic and subatomic particles. After my failed music career I went to Seton Hall for 18 months to study physics, with mixed results academically. But subatomic particles still hold my passion. I have a poster-sized “Map of Fundamental Particles” on the wall I’m facing as I’m writing this (nerd!).

 

Back then I wanted to know exactly what they were. Now I know I’ll never know that – we’ll never know that, at least for a long while. Our technology, while rapidly, exponentially advancing, still is about a century out from making any real advancement in particle physics. But what I want to have is some sort of working knowledge of some model of subatomic particles.

 

To even approach that, however, I need a lot of refreshing. I haven’t read any physics since moving down to Texas the summer of 2021. Before that I spent most of the summer of 2017 reading through my physics book collection (which I later bequeathed to my nephew). So I’ve got seven years of rust to sand off. The videos I’ve been watching at work – and will later working from home today – have helped tremendously.

 

I’m currently about halfway through a large biography of Mozart (that’s my subject for the next post). I should finish in two or three weeks. Then I’m going to dip my toes back into the waters of physics. I’ll start off light and nostalgia-laden – I found a copy of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos that I picked up in Hilton Head a few years back. I had a copy thirty years ago while at Seton Hall. Never read it. So that’s on deck after Mozart. After that I have a Lee Smolin paperback on the shortcomings of string theory and a short textbook on particle physics written by a grad student. Roger Penrose threatens from the bottom of my makeshift pile of physics books, a work I’ve tried unsuccessfully to get through twice, but one that I intuitively feel I must read, as I think Penrose has a lot of answers. More on that later, much later.

 

So that’s the short-term nonfiction reading plan. Anyway, as always, more to come soon!

Little One Returns

 

After four whirlwind months (which actually flew by), Little One returned late, late, late last night. Despite flying all across Europe, visiting something like ten countries, the only struggle she had was getting from Newark, New Jersey to the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. Powerful thunderstorms all evening up north, and massive flooding down here in Texas around the airport conspired to make her seven or eight hours late in returning to her home here with us. I’m the only one working today, so I went to bed around 11:30, but the Mrs. valiantly stayed up and picked her up sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

This was the second half of her sophomore year at college, and the vast majority of her class spends it abroad at the school’s sister campus in Rome. She took courses in literature, philosophy, art and architecture, and took field trips to the Vatican and to Greece. Imagine reading Plato’s dialogues while sitting at the Parthenon! She did. Imagine spending an Easter vigil in an 800-year old Irish monastery! She did.

She also, like I mentioned above, took advantage of her location, and she and her friends spent many weekends flying out to various countries to explore and experience (a weak Euro really helped with this part). At my recollection, in addition to the Vatican and Greece, she visited Austria, Germany, Ireland, Spain, Portugal, Czechia, Ireland again, and finally France only few days ago. I was worried for her in light of the immigrant crisis many European countries are facing, but they always travelled in packs and her girl pack usually travelled with a corresponding boy pack. The only sketchy situations she found herself in happened on a ferry in Greece and the town of Nice, France, which was not very nice, especially with the “no-go” zone surrounding the train station they had to circumnavigate to stay safe.

Anyway, she’s safe back at home. I’ll have to wait to debrief her later today, maybe much later. Have no idea what time zone her body is currently in, but knowing her she might sleep all day, make an appearance at dinner time, then go back to bed. I may not have an intelligent conversation with her until sometime this weekend. But that’s okay, and she deserves some rest after four months of pretty intense study, essay writing, and never-ending on-the-go backpacking through Western Civilization.

 

Montezuma

 

 

Jimi Hendrix never died.

 

After Band of Gypsies in 1970, he retreats to the studio and produces two modest albums supported by selective stints of short touring. There are hints of something secret, something great, but the guitarist is silent for 18 months. Then, in 1975, he releases his second double album, Montezuma, to critical and commercial success. It quickly goes on to become one of the most influential albums of all time, mentioned in the same sentences with Sgt Pepper, Pet Sounds, and just about anything Bob Dylan or the Rolling Stones are putting out.

 

It is, in fact, more than a rock album. It is also more than a jazz or “jazz fusion” album. It is simply the next generation of electric guitar music, welding all facets of rock and jazz with nearly everything that had come before. Musicologists find hints of Bachian fugues, echoes of the masterful intricacies of Mozart and the sturm und drang of a mature Beethoven, an orchestra translated through the fingers upon an electric guitar in a multitrack recording studio.

 

Montezuma revolutionizes music and the music industry. And this soon overflows pop culture and the zeitgeist. The album is the impetus for a generation of young and hungry musicians to push the boundaries of music and expand into newer, unimagined and previously unimaginable terrain. That revolt-against-rock, punk, does happen, but it is muted into extreme niche-dom. The 80s synth style does not, alas, happen. Nor does the phenomenon of the “hair band,” though heavy metal does develop, but more like a weed choking in a garden of impossibilities. Rap does not evolve, nor does the materialism, sexual immorality, and violence typically associated with the genre.

 

Instead, Hendrix becomes the spiritual father of a new type of music. Along with the synthesis of baroque, classical, and romantic ideas and motifs, hundreds of his musical offspring explode and branch out, hydra-like, fractal-like, toward new and higher peaks, leaving nothing unturned, unexplored, unchallenged. Since the ultimate foundation of music is mathematics, time signatures segue into more intricate expansions: exponential time signatures, time signatures  based on pi, imaginary (i) time signatures. The studio becomes a laboratory of infinite possibility. Fugues with several hundred tracks of interplaying guitar lines, chords, melodies, harmonics, become commonplace. Revolutionary advancement in electronics and computers drives it further onward and upward. Forward-masking, backward-masking, multi-dimensional masking.

 

The guitar itself evolves. At first, some physical changes – eight- and ten-string guitars, guitars with bass strings added, guitars where the body and neck can change length and shape, mid-song, to mold new sounds. A guitar is patched into a board and sent to a next generation Cray computer where the data is scrambled, rescrambled, and deconstructed based on complex mathematical notation and fed back through a Marshall cabinet. The most cutting edge guitarsmanship features that which is neurally-linked directly into and through the musician’s mind.

 

And in spite of all this, the music is, inexplicably, listenable.

 

Because September 18, 1970, was a relatively uneventful day in the life of Jimi Hendrix, the maestro brings peace, love and understanding to the world by the third decade of the twenty-first century.

 

(thoughts while showering this morning, May 11, 2024)

Hyphenated Consonance

 

The Starlight Night

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

 

Look at the stars! look, look up at the skies!

   O look, at all the fire-folk sitting in the air!

   The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there!

Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves’-eyes!

The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies!

   Wind-beat whitebeam! airy abeles set on a flare!

   Flake-doves sent floating forth at a farmyard scare!

Ah well! it is all a purchase, all is a prize.

 

Buy then! bid then! – What? – Prayer, patience, alms, vows.

Look, look: a May-mess, like on orchard boughs!

   Look! March-bloom, like on mealed-with-yellow sallows!

These are indeed the barn; withindoors house

The shocks. This piece-bright paling shuts the spouse

   Christ home, Christ and his mother and all his hallows.

 

*******

 

Nice.

One evening this past weekend I thumbed through an old copy of Astronomy, and a line or two from some classic poem was quoted within without attribution. I did some quick googling and came up with this poem of Hopkin’s. It is not the poem that the Astronomy author mentioned, though. That poem is still as yet unknown to me (but not for long).

Normally I am not a fan of Gerard Manley Hopkins. It’s not quite due to the prolix alliteration (actually, consonance, the repetition of consonant sounds within a sentence or line). I am quite a fan of alliteration, if only for a shlocky see-what-I-can-do shallow boastfulness when I write. With Hopkins I think it’s all the hyphenated consonance that irks me. Indeed, were I a lad a century ago passing by his desk as he labored over a poem, tongue jutting out the side of his mouth, I don’t think I could resist the temptation to “accidentally” bump his arm once his quill touched parchment. And I’d circle round and do it again and again, each time “accidentally.” All because of the cutesy hyphenated consonance.

But I dunno, there was something about this poem. Perhaps it was the lingering sentimentality I felt with the still-open Astronomy magazine still within arm’s reach. I walked out the backdoor, glancing up at the skies, the open bowl of the universe above me, noting the winter stars slowly receding towards the western horizon. The poem did evoke some neat moments of nostalgia in me. Observing the stars in the woods on cold February nights. Lake George, New York. Seeing constellation patterns and asterisms for the first time. Learning the names and locations of stars.

Yes, this poem will get a pass from me. Gerard, I won’t bully you for this.

In fact, I might pick up a book of his works next time at one of the local libraries.

Ten Years Back

 

A post from May 5, 2014:

 

Ah, it was a cool early Saturday morning, particularly – no, exceptionally – clear and crisp.  The air felt lighter, and instead of breathing in the new season, it breathed me in.  The wife and girls back home were frantically preparing for a family obligation while I, already freshly showered and in my Sunday Bests, motored off to run a few quick errands.

 

I pulled into a shady spot at the library parking lot.  Rolled down the windows, reclined the driver’s seat by twenty degrees.  The library would not open until ten o’clock this glorious morning, and I had the empty parking lot to myself for forty minutes.

 

I opened A Stillness at Appomattox, and as if stepping through some weird spacetime portal I was on those Virginian fields, convoying with the Army of the Potomac as it rushed feverishly to beat – unsuccessfully – Robert E. Lee and his forces to a sleepy crossroads town called Spotsylvania.  And a few pages after that, poor old General John Sedgwick of Grant’s Sixth Corps, known affectionately as “Uncle John” to his troops, was tragically killed by a sniper’s bullet, shot below the left eye, after bragging to his flinching subordinates that those Confederate sharpshooters hidden in the faraway trees “couldn’t hit an elephant from this distance.”

 

I put the book down and studied the blue cloudless sky, fragmented and framed by budding tree leaves, and appreciated ever the more this spring day commune.

 

*****

 

How much can change in a decade!

 

Now I live 1,500 miles away in a hot, arid environment unlike the northeast. My girls are no longer in grammar school and kindergarten – my oldest daughter is studying in Italy and my youngest just returned from her job – her first “on the books” – at a coffeeshop. I work three days from home and commute the other two to an office building adjacent to the Dallas Cowboys practice facility.

 

Back then I’d worry about how to pay for roof repairs or a new paint job to keep my home from assuming the position of worst house on the block to worrying about how to pay for two college educations and a retirement creeping ever so closer. I’m healthier now in ways I was not back in those day, but I am also unhealthier in other ways I thought not about in 2014.

 

But – I am still a reader.

 

And – I have another one of historian Bruce Catton’s works staring balefully from a stack behind me: Mr. Lincoln’s Army, technically Book One of the trilogy that ended with the book I read ten years ago, A Stillness at Appomattox. It’s been calling out to me patiently and incessantly for several weeks now, but I’ve told it in no uncertain terms that I must read through my Clancy phase first. So, perhaps, I will get to it by summer’s end in another great synchronous echo of time that seems to loop back in forth in my life year after year.

 

Ten years ago today I had pulled into a shady spot in a library parking lot. Today I have a similar semi-secluded spot to escape for an hour or so here and there and get some reading and thinking done. The more things change, the more they stay the same …