rlbourges

No doubt the day is unfolding as it should

In Animals, Current reading, Drafts, Music, Theater on January 11, 2014 at 8:39 am

The chickadees are back. It’s eight am. The luxury of a slow start to the day with the coffee just right and the call of chickadees outside. Reading at a pace I consider slow. Writing: same.

The reading list: eclectic, as usual. Barry Unsworth’s Morality Play – a pleasant surprise in my mailbox where ads, bills and flyers from desperate job seekers constitute the norm. Dips into Joyce’s Dubliners – last night’s read: The Mother. Ah, Mrs. Kearney; to be thus spurned, after all that money spent on blush-pink charmeuse for Kathleen’s dress, too. ’tis a sad existence indeed, so big on sacrifice, so short on rewards.

Plus, two books I picked up at the médiathèque yesterday, in preparation for all the celebratory events of March. The entire month dedicated to Women. So, one book containing twenty-six hagiographies* of French women from Olympe de Gouges to Simone Veil. Another containing a son’s recollections of his mother. In his unpretentious way, Brian B. Baker – with the assistance of one Gilles Trichard – does something quite grand in Josephine Baker le regard d’un fils. He manages to convey his deep  love and affection for the woman and highlight the absurdities of life as a member of the tribe of twelve children, adopted by the black American music-hall artist. There’s a short and sweet intro by Dee Dee Bridgewater and dire lessons learned about not kicking an enterprising baboon.

Apart from which, the title of this post summarizes the mood this morning. As in : No appointments on my agenda. None.

* With apologies to the authors, Jean-Louis Debré and Valérie Bochenek. I haven’t read the book yet and the list of women they’ve put together impresses the hell out of me. I hope the bios don’t turn them into towering bronze statues, that’s all. There’s hope though: the back cover informs that Valérie Bochenek founded an association called Un Musée pour Bip, dedicated to the mime Marcel Marceau.

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