Monday Miscellany: Long-ass trains of seemingly unconnected thought
Notes from November 11 - 17
Well hi! It’s Monday again, and I’m feeling strangely motivated to do some drawing?? What an unexpected and exciting thing, showing up on the heels of a recent mood dip. Hopefully I’ll get to sketch out some new holiday card designs this afternoon, but I do have a good book and an all-time favorite album to tell you about before I go grab my sketchbook and pencil…
Currently reading
The Vulnerables by Sigrid Nunez was my Independent Bookstore Day purchase from my local fave earlier this year. I decided to read it this week because I needed a spacer between a few heavier picks for various upcoming book club discussions—Nunez’s previous two novels, The Friend and What Are You Going Through were both up my alley, so I figured this one would be a sure thing.
The basic premise is that an older woman writer is weathering Covid lockdown when she ends up moving into a friend-of-a-friend’s home to care for her pet parrot while the homeowner is stuck elsewhere, pregnant and about to deliver. Even though it’s fiction, I suspect that there’s quite a bit of autobiographical detail here; I often forgot about the “novel” part and just read the narrator’s voice as Nunez’s.
This is very much an all-vibes-no-plot situation. Covid times and the parrot’s care form the framework of the story, and a few little things do happen (a family friend of the homeowner moves into the house while the narrator is living there, for example, because of a miscommunication), but mostly we’re just swimming around in the narrator’s head, drifting from idea to idea. I know this type of thing isn’t for everyone, but I often find myself idly working my way through long-ass trains of seemingly unconnected thought, and so to me it felt very comfortable and familiar.
Also, there was an entire page of dialogue between the narrator and her friends about the phrase “spit and image,” which has morphed over time into the incorrect but more commonly-used “spitting image,” and the whole conversation brought this little grammar nerd SO MUCH JOY.
Nunez has a subtle “if you know you know” way of writing about real people and events that doesn’t give specific names or details but does provide just enough info for you to google. And google I did (another thing about me is that I’m nosy)! One of my favorite stories she obliquely references is that of a colleague of hers, writer H.G. Carrillo, who died during Covid, at which time it was revealed that he had falsified his entire Cuban immigrant identity! At one point I also found myself pausing my bathtub reading to embark on an internet deep-dive about Princess Diana’s struggles with bulimia. Books that meander like this, surprising me with random facts and history, are some of my favorite sorts—if that also sounds good to you, I definitely recommend The Vulnerables. (Do watch out for mentions of the 2016 election, though; there are only a couple, but considering our current political moment, they hit me like jump scares.)
A legally-required heads-up: if you purchase a book through the bookshop.org affiliate links in this post, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. ♥︎
Currently listening
I went down a bit of a Cranberries rabbit-hole this week, which started with a friend putting on “Salad” by Blondshell while we were opening the coffee shop one morning. The soundtrack for the rest of our shift was Spotify radio based on that song, and it included a Blondshell cover of “Disappointment.” Which of course brought to mind the flawless Cranberries original, and, after that, their whole No Need to Argue (1994) album.
There aren’t many records that I can remember my first introduction to, but this is one. It was late 1994, or sometime in 1995, and I was a wee 8- or 9-year-old in my Saturday morning modern dance class at the arts council in downtown Durham. The teacher¹ was leading us through warm-up exercises in front of a giant wall of mirrors, a series of pliés, relevés, and stretches, to the accompaniment of a song I’d never heard before but immediately loved: “Ode to My Family,” the opening track of No Need to Argue.
My brother and I soon acquired our own copy of the CD, and the rest is history. What an absolutely stacked collection of bangers—you probably already know “Zombie,” but “I Can’t Be With You”? “The Icicle Melts”? “Ridiculous Thoughts”? Not to mention the slow and somber ones. I can still practically make myself cry just thinking about “No Need to Argue,” how it’s so quiet and understated right there at the end of the album, coming in like a raw, resigned whisper on the tail of all the loud rock and high emotion that came before:
There’s no need to argue anymore I gave all I could but it left me so sore And the thing that makes me mad is the one thing that I had I knew, I knew I’d lose you
Anyway, man, what an album. Time keeps passing but these songs endure. If you have a minute, please enjoy this Tiny Desk Concert live performance of “Zombie” from 2012, and while you’re listening, pour one out for Dolores O’Riordan.²
¹ Who, according to a quick Google, is still out here making art and doing the thing all these years later. We love to see it.
² She sadly passed away in 2018; here is the NYTimes obituary, which gives some of her personal history but also talks a lot about the band and what an impact their music has had over the past couple of decades.
Added to my to-read list this week
What if We Get it Right?: Visions of Climate Futurism by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson: This nonfiction collection has been recommended by both Traci Thomas and Sara Hildreth as an informative, fresh look at the climate crisis that proposes actions we can take to actually help the situation. As I am currently panic-spiraling about the effect the upcoming presidential administration will have on our planet, it sounds like something I need to read sooner rather than later.
Vanishing Treasures: A Bestiary of Extraordinary Endangered Creatures by Katherine Rundell: Two of my favorite people, Caleb and Morgan, whose book opinions I always pay attention to, mentioned this one recently. Morgan said she was currently reading and cherishing it, that the essays “couldn’t be more hopeful as well as cautionary for the time we are living in.” Again, I could use some hope right about now, especially if it comes with beautiful illustrations.
And another thing
Time released its list of 100 Must-Read Books of 2024, of which I’ve read ten (Intermezzo, as soon as I finish it, will make eleven)! A few others are on my short stack to prioritize before the end of the year—namely Another Word for Love, James, The Mighty Red, and The Wedding People.
Yesterday we got through four episodes of the 2018 Les Misérables mini-series and I can’t wait to watch the rest. It’s fun to see more of the book represented on screen, including the parts that have been traditionally cut from musical versions and feature-length adaptations.
Haiku round-up
Monday, November 11
Keeping busy helps. Exhausting the body can help slow down the mind.
Tuesday, November 12
I’ve started speaking and then been interrupted one too many times
Wednesday, November 13
Happy homebody: putzing around the office, tidying my space
Thursday, November 14
All day long, raining I hurry home, settle in, warm myself with soup
Friday, November 15
Creative malaise can’t be fought, just outlasted In the meantime, chores
Saturday, November 16
My solo morning, now stretched and reshaped into Saturday with you
Sunday, November 17
A familiar tale: the journey of prisoner two-four-six-oh-one
Until next time
One day this week I was inside working when I noticed a change in the light outside. The sun, starting to set, had just emerged from a blanket of grey clouds and was illuminating the trees from a dramatic angle. It was lovely, and even though I wasn’t out there looking for very long, I felt glad to have taken a break, like “okay, I’m not a complete house gremlin, I was part of the world today.” There isn’t really a point to this anecdote except to say, hey, remember to look up from what you’re doing every now and then so you don’t miss a spontaneous moment of delight.
See you next week, and until then, would you like a banaenae?
—Emily
If you have any feedback, or want to tell me what you’re reading or listening to, I’d love to hear it. You’re always welcome to leave a comment or reply directly to this email.
Never not a good time for the Cranberries. And YES! Vanishing Treasures is sooooo good!