Something Different

When I last posted here, in March, about reading Stephen King's 11.22.63 I talked about gently spinning out my reading of the novel, but I didn't quite expect that to mean I'd still be a long way off the end a third of the way into May. I did, however, point out the particularly intriguing nature of the text, and I think it's that quality which means I've been quite happy to dawdle along.

There are two aspects of the work that seem to me rather different than anything King has done before. One, obviously, is the treatment of Lee Harvey Oswald. Clearly a lot of research has been done and the picture that emerges of the president's assassin is a complex one - both thoroughly despicable yet paradoxically sympathetic, if that's the right word, which it isn't. But it's the only one I can think of now to represent the fullness of the portrait.

The other is the romance (if that's the right word, again, which it isn't) between Jake the narrator and Sadie, his love interest (which fails to do justice to the curiously obsessive treatment of her as a character and the relationship in general terms.)

I have no idea what's going to happen in the next 150 pages or so, except that a president will die somehow. I think.

Less Than Certain

I'm thinking, I'm hoping, that some advice I gave someone today might prove very helpful to them. But you can never know for sure, can you? Good to try. But far better to succeed when it comes to the well-being of others.

Secret Worlds

Chanced upon a brilliant article by George Monbiot over the weekend relating to the 'unknowable wonders' of soil. Unknowable they may be, but Mr Monbiot lets the reader know an awful lot and it lives up to the wonders billing. The first few paragraphs are powerfully inspiring but, inevitably I suppose, much of the rest makes for pretty depressing reading as the writer lets us know of just how much damage we've managed to do to the soil with which we were gifted.

The good news is that he reckons we can still do something about our collective stupidity. Hope that those positioned to take action have the sense to do so. And also hoping that those, like myself, who've been content to let things take their course stir themselves into doing... something.

Out And About

We're setting off soon for our first bit of Raya-ing for this year, though we're only going as far as Rozita and Fuad's, which is so familiar it doesn't really count. It's been quite some time since we've done the multiple households in a single afternoon and evening thing, and I can't honestly say I'm all that keen to resume visiting with such intensity, despite my high regard for the essential spirit of the enterprise. I'm just not that much of a social animal, I'm afraid, and the overload of edibles can be daunting. Having said that, I'm quite looking forward to scoffing and quaffing on whatever comes my way this evening. I'm definitely moving out of fasting mode.

Oh, and we'll be celebrating Fifi passing her driving test this morning. Time certainly not standing still as far as my nieces embracing adulthood is concerned, eh?

The Lighter Side

Spent a little while gazing up in admiration at the twinkling lights at our window on returning to the homestead this evening. It's possible to get a little too pleased with oneself at times, you know.

Something Therapeutic

Got to thinking earlier in the day of Springsteen and the E Street Band live at Bramhall Lane in the 80's on The Tunnel of Love tour. They featured a cover of Chimes of Freedom, a really good one, needless to say. When Springsteen sang the penultimate line - the Bobster speaking of the bells tolling for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe - there was a huge roar from the audience (self included.) I suppose it was in part provoked by the liberty taken with a translation of the supremely 60's phrase hung-up into a somewhat more brutal term, but I also like to think there was a genuine moment of recognition of how one of Dylan's most charitable lines applied to us all.

The stimulus to my memory of that great moment (in a concert comprised pretty much of great moments in its entirety) came from my thinking of someone I know who I suddenly realised was hung-up enough to be worthy of therapy. And the further realisation that I couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't benefit from a course of therapy in some way. Self included, needless to say.

How strange, how damaged we are.

Not So Routine

It was back to the old routine this morning, preparing in the usual manner for work at the usual time. Except after a month's break I'd forgotten the routine, so it wasn't routine anymore, if you see what I mean. A useful reminder that what we take for granted shouldn't be taken for granted - one of the many lessons of the fasting month. 

I suppose I'll forget the lesson just as the routine becomes routine. But I know it's worth at least striving to remember how unusual the usual actually is. 

Feeling Blessed

Hari Raya Puasa, Eid ul-Fitr; 1 Syawal 1443

Very happy to have attended the prayers for Raya at the masjid this morning for the first time since 2019. It's been quite some time. Good to see so many there, despite some restrictions still being in place.

And added to the sense of a special blessing, I'm now quaffing a cup of tea and it's actually during the day!

As always, for those who are blessed with the freedom to celebrate this day, in whatever form that celebration takes: Eid Mubarak!

Easing Up

30 Ramadhan, 1443

Just got back from a bit of late-night shopping as Noi prepares her various goodies for the morrow. A reminder that concluding the fast is by no means the end of the full experience attendant upon the fasting month. It'll good to be able to loosen up in the coming days, but the essential point is to not lose sight of the discipline and sense of proportion acquired over the thirty days of Ramadhan. Acute awareness of the fundamental importance of food and drink in our lives brings with it an acute sense of the pernicious nature of waste - and that needs to apply to all aspects of a life well lived.

A Question Of Patience

29 Ramadhan, 1443

Hot off the presses: they've declared Eid for tomorrow in Malaysia, taking the Muslim population there by surprise. I suppose there are those delighted to 'lose' a day of fasting, but I suspect most will feel they could have done without the need to prepare for the big day in an unseemly hurry. We're more than happy to wait patiently for another day. In fact, I suspect if there had been a similar announcement here I would have felt cheated in some sense.

Over quite a number of years of observing the fast I have managed to develop a degree of patience that otherwise would have been beyond my grasp. I see it as necessary patience. Without it I simply would not have been able to cope with the demands of the Holy Month. And I am deeply grateful to have had it forced upon me.

Strange how out of fashion patience is in these times when it's possibly the most useful of all the virtues.