Day #66: Writing the End of the World
There is lots of talk, some of it jokes, some of it not so much, about this being the apocalypse. Pandemic, insane weather, a record fire season, murder hornets...it does feel very end-of-the-worldish. Very early in this (like a month ago) a friend and I were trying to remember the four horsemen of the apocalypse so we could see if we have them all yet. Pestilence, yep. War, always. Famine, for sure. Death, uh huh.
It is reassuring to me that this is not the first time in human history it has felt like the end of the world. Certainly during the middle ages and bubonic plague and many other times, but in recent history I think for many World War I felt like the end of the world, and when it was finally winding down and a deadly flu epidemic was sweeping the globe. It had to feel so absolutely hopeless.
I've been re-reading the L.M. Montgomery book Anne of the Island on audio. What launched me into re-reading Anne was reading Liz Rosenberg's 2019 biography of Montgomery called House of Dreams. It was not the first dip I've taken into the life of this author and it won't be the last but one thing that stuck out to me that has not before is that Anne of the Island, while set a generation earlier, was written during the early days of WWI.
Montgomery was a creative person and she wrote what inspired her but she was also a pragmatist and a professional writer and she wrote what the market needed and what she was under contract to write. Anne was what sold, a third Anne book was what was called for, she needed to write an ending to Anne's romantic storyline, and so during 1914 she was writing about Anne's college years. And she would say to friends she corresponded with that it felt crazy to write about college parties, exams, and adventures while it felt to her like the world was falling apart. Maud Montgomery felt the impact of WWI very personally and very deeply.
There's no mention of World War I in Anne of the Island, of course, but when you read it knowing what was going on at the time it was written, there are little indications here and there. There's a kind of odd scene near the book's beginning where the girls are having an adventure in a graveyard and they read the epitaph of a soldier and Anne speaks poetically about the soldier's service to his country. It is an odd fit in this book, but not odd at all for her to write in that time. There's a memorable scene midway through the book where an old school friend of Anne's dies of "consumption" (a colloquial word for tuberculosis.) It fits with Anne's story but also could be a way of Montgomery dealing with the realities of losing so many young people at the same time.
The scene about Ruby's death struck me when I listened to it today. Anne and Diana are warned away from a visit with their friend by a crochety old character who tells them doctors say consumption is catching. Tuberculosis is, in fact, highly contagious, and is spread by droplets much like the coronavirus is. Of course, this wouldn't have been widely understood in that time, but the girls laugh her off, saying that people get sick who don't go visiting as well. She tells them this is true, but when that happens it is not the person's fault. It was odd to hear this character who actually is speaking what present day medical science says about infection control to be lampooned by these characters. I highly doubt Anne and Diana practiced social distancing with Ruby. Of course, they were also fictional characters, so there's that.
Montgomery did write another Anne book, later in the war, Anne's House of Dreams. It's probably the most melancholy book of the series. I don't think I'll include it in this re-read. She did eventually write an Anne novel set during the war, 1921's Rilla of Ingleside. That book was written after her own devastating loss of cousin and best friend Frede to the Spanish flu, and is dedicated to her memory. Apparently, the edition I've read was censored, some anti-German sentiment was taken out of post-1942 editions by editors. The original text was available for awhile as an annotated version but doesn't seem getable now. I may have to look into an interlibrary loan of that when the libraries reopen because I'm quite interested.
I think what's interesting about reading Anne of the Island right now is that as a writer I like how you can put in the emotional truth of what you are living through, even if what you are living through is not directly what you are writing about. I have been itching to get back into some "real" writing...the blog has been excellent but isn't quite scratching that itch (although the fact that it is making me want to write more means it is serving at least one purpose, and I know it's more than that, but I don't feel like I can write a story about what is going on right now, I'm too close to it, and yet it feels ridiculous to write about anything else. I never expected to live through such a time as this. I don't think my generation is cut out for it.
That said, I want to write a pandemic novel...about the Spanish flu, the coronavirus, or both...and call it Social Distancing, because there is such as Anne would say scope for the imagination in the phrase. I'm learning so much about my family who lived through that time and believe me there were family members they kept themselves socially distanced from for reasons having nothing to do with germs.
It is interesting to keep a blog rather than a journal. I started this to be a straight from my head to the page brain dump endeavor, meant to help me process the world around me and leave a record for the future. But I know there are readers...and that's not a bad thing, I've invited you here...but I do censor just a bit. I think I would in a journal, too, though. I'm one of those horribly narcissistic people who think someday someone will want to read my journal.
In terms of today, not a lot to say. The weather was beautiful here (apparently back east they got snow! In May!) so lots of outside time. Max refused to nap....again. James has a remote control helicopter and the dog wants to eat it. You know. Same everyday stuff.
Under the heading of media consumption, I am plowing my way through Little Fires Everywhere...it's been a long time since I read a page turner like that and I'm enjoying it.
Today I'm grateful for books, literary people, the chance to rest, snuggles, sunshine, shade, lilacs, and hamburgers on the grill. And continued health. And that the state of Washington has done such a good job keeping its coronavirus rates low comparatively...my sister sent me an article today, OMG.
On to a pandemic Mother's Day.
It is reassuring to me that this is not the first time in human history it has felt like the end of the world. Certainly during the middle ages and bubonic plague and many other times, but in recent history I think for many World War I felt like the end of the world, and when it was finally winding down and a deadly flu epidemic was sweeping the globe. It had to feel so absolutely hopeless.
I've been re-reading the L.M. Montgomery book Anne of the Island on audio. What launched me into re-reading Anne was reading Liz Rosenberg's 2019 biography of Montgomery called House of Dreams. It was not the first dip I've taken into the life of this author and it won't be the last but one thing that stuck out to me that has not before is that Anne of the Island, while set a generation earlier, was written during the early days of WWI.
Montgomery was a creative person and she wrote what inspired her but she was also a pragmatist and a professional writer and she wrote what the market needed and what she was under contract to write. Anne was what sold, a third Anne book was what was called for, she needed to write an ending to Anne's romantic storyline, and so during 1914 she was writing about Anne's college years. And she would say to friends she corresponded with that it felt crazy to write about college parties, exams, and adventures while it felt to her like the world was falling apart. Maud Montgomery felt the impact of WWI very personally and very deeply.
There's no mention of World War I in Anne of the Island, of course, but when you read it knowing what was going on at the time it was written, there are little indications here and there. There's a kind of odd scene near the book's beginning where the girls are having an adventure in a graveyard and they read the epitaph of a soldier and Anne speaks poetically about the soldier's service to his country. It is an odd fit in this book, but not odd at all for her to write in that time. There's a memorable scene midway through the book where an old school friend of Anne's dies of "consumption" (a colloquial word for tuberculosis.) It fits with Anne's story but also could be a way of Montgomery dealing with the realities of losing so many young people at the same time.
The scene about Ruby's death struck me when I listened to it today. Anne and Diana are warned away from a visit with their friend by a crochety old character who tells them doctors say consumption is catching. Tuberculosis is, in fact, highly contagious, and is spread by droplets much like the coronavirus is. Of course, this wouldn't have been widely understood in that time, but the girls laugh her off, saying that people get sick who don't go visiting as well. She tells them this is true, but when that happens it is not the person's fault. It was odd to hear this character who actually is speaking what present day medical science says about infection control to be lampooned by these characters. I highly doubt Anne and Diana practiced social distancing with Ruby. Of course, they were also fictional characters, so there's that.
Montgomery did write another Anne book, later in the war, Anne's House of Dreams. It's probably the most melancholy book of the series. I don't think I'll include it in this re-read. She did eventually write an Anne novel set during the war, 1921's Rilla of Ingleside. That book was written after her own devastating loss of cousin and best friend Frede to the Spanish flu, and is dedicated to her memory. Apparently, the edition I've read was censored, some anti-German sentiment was taken out of post-1942 editions by editors. The original text was available for awhile as an annotated version but doesn't seem getable now. I may have to look into an interlibrary loan of that when the libraries reopen because I'm quite interested.
I think what's interesting about reading Anne of the Island right now is that as a writer I like how you can put in the emotional truth of what you are living through, even if what you are living through is not directly what you are writing about. I have been itching to get back into some "real" writing...the blog has been excellent but isn't quite scratching that itch (although the fact that it is making me want to write more means it is serving at least one purpose, and I know it's more than that, but I don't feel like I can write a story about what is going on right now, I'm too close to it, and yet it feels ridiculous to write about anything else. I never expected to live through such a time as this. I don't think my generation is cut out for it.
That said, I want to write a pandemic novel...about the Spanish flu, the coronavirus, or both...and call it Social Distancing, because there is such as Anne would say scope for the imagination in the phrase. I'm learning so much about my family who lived through that time and believe me there were family members they kept themselves socially distanced from for reasons having nothing to do with germs.
It is interesting to keep a blog rather than a journal. I started this to be a straight from my head to the page brain dump endeavor, meant to help me process the world around me and leave a record for the future. But I know there are readers...and that's not a bad thing, I've invited you here...but I do censor just a bit. I think I would in a journal, too, though. I'm one of those horribly narcissistic people who think someday someone will want to read my journal.
In terms of today, not a lot to say. The weather was beautiful here (apparently back east they got snow! In May!) so lots of outside time. Max refused to nap....again. James has a remote control helicopter and the dog wants to eat it. You know. Same everyday stuff.
Under the heading of media consumption, I am plowing my way through Little Fires Everywhere...it's been a long time since I read a page turner like that and I'm enjoying it.
Today I'm grateful for books, literary people, the chance to rest, snuggles, sunshine, shade, lilacs, and hamburgers on the grill. And continued health. And that the state of Washington has done such a good job keeping its coronavirus rates low comparatively...my sister sent me an article today, OMG.
On to a pandemic Mother's Day.
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