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Service Section memories

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I still haven’t finished the Schulz biography, so what to write about tonight?

Further memories of the AFLC Service Section, I suppose (see yesterday’s post). It was one of the more colorful places I’ve worked.

The Service Section (shipping and mailing) was to the America Lutheran Church Headquarters what The Weird Brother We Keep Locked in the Basement and Never Talk About is to some family living next door to a Flannery O’Conner story. The suits (and clerical collars) worked in a tall, pale building on the south side of the block, above Augsburg Publishing House. We SS guys* toiled like orcs in an ancient, creosote-stained, low building on the north side of the block. In order to physically pass from the Shambles to the Tower, you had to either go around outside, or take a freight elevator down to the basement, then follow a tunnel through the rumbling presses of Augsburg’s printing department, to another elevator back in a corner. Continue reading Service Section memories →

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Historical Inaugurations

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Delancy’s Place has a couple excerpts from how Washington’s and Lincoln’s inaugurations went. At one point for Washington, “a chorus of white-robed girls tossed flowers from their baskets in his path while singing a tribute to ‘The Defender of the Mothers, The Protector of the Daughters'” For Lincoln, he wore a soft felt hat instead of his trademark stovepipe hat to avoid recognition while he slipped out of Harrisburg for the trip to Washington.

Non-fiction

Princess

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I’m currently engrossed in David Michaelis’ Schulz and Peanuts: A Biography. I’ve rarely been so caught up in a nonfiction book, for reasons I’ll explain when I’m ready to write my review (which I expect will be a long one).

But one thing that grabbed my interest was all the places where Schulz’s and my paths crossed (disregarding the small matter of a few decades’ time). I lived for a while with my aunt in St. Paul, only a couple miles southeast of the corner of Snelling and Selby, where Schulz’s father, Carl, ran a barber shop for most of his life. I used to jog around Highland Park, where Schulz himself liked to play golf.

But the crossings weren’t only in St. Paul.

I worked several years in Minneapolis in the shipping and mailing department (known for some reason as the Service Section) of the headquarters of the American Lutheran Church, an organization which no longer exists (like its building, which was demolished a few years back to make way for the new city jail).

Just kittycorner across Fourth Street from our building was Art Instruction Schools (the people behind the “Can you draw me?” magazine ads). Schulz worked there for a number of years, before and after his service in World War II and up to the time when he became an established cartoonist.

Michaelis reports that he “fell in love” (from afar; he was desperately shy) with several pretty girls who worked at the school. One became the inspiration for Charlie Brown’s “little red-haired girl.” Another was the sister of the woman he eventually married.

Art Instruction Schools and pretty girls. That brings back a memory…. Continue reading Princess →

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A wonderful day

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Today is a wonderful day in American history. It’s wonderful for two reasons.

1) The color barrier to the highest office has finally been broken.

2) The new president hasn’t yet had time to implement any of his policies.

There will be a very few of these wonderful days, so enjoy them!

Poetry

The Poem Read at the Inauguration

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Elizabeth Alexander’s poem today was a bit difficult for me, in part because I didn’t hear it all, but I wonder if I just need more in a poem than a praise song for the day. Here’s how it ends:

“In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp — praise song for walking forward in that light.”

Did you hear the poem read? What did you think of it then or now when you read it?

Update: Many reviewers apparently didn’t like the poem either. David Ulin calls it “prosaic.” But her poetry books are selling well. (via ArtsJournal)

Fiction, Reviews

Scarlet, by Stephen Lawhead

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Stephen Lawhead’s Scarlet, a sequel to his novel, Hood, begins with Will Scatlock (otherwise known as Will Scarlet), the narrator of much of the book, lying wounded on a pallet in a prison cell, awaiting a date with the hangman. A Norman priest has been assigned to write down his “confession,” and Will tells his story.

The action takes place in “The March,” a border region between England and Wales, and the time is the reign of King William Rufus, successor to William the Conqueror. As we learned in the previous volume, King Bran, the rightful king of Elfael, has been displaced by the Normans and has taken refuge in the forest with other victims of their tyranny. The Welsh call him Rhi Bran y Hud (King Bran [or Raven] the Enchanter), but the Normans tend to call him Riban Hood. Will is a displaced Englishman who has traveled west to join King Bran.

The outlaws he finds are not quite the “merry men” of legend. They are a pretty desperate and miserable bunch, living a life of subsistence in a forest hideaway where food is always scarce. A number of women and children are also with them, and among them Will finds a woman he wants to marry. But their wedding is delayed repeatedly, because King Bran has discovered a conspiracy that reaches to the very top of the Norman English government, and his attempts to turn what he learns to his advantage lead to desperate risks and Will’s capture and imprisonment. Continue reading Scarlet, by Stephen Lawhead →

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Difficult War Story

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Lynn Vincent has a couple links to the difficult story of Captain Roger Hill being pressed b/w hard and rock inside Afghanistan. She calls it “no way out.” Her article has a good overview of the story, and the Washington Post article she links to has some horrible details. The most horrific point to me is the possible or suggestion that this situation occurred because of petty friction b/w two commanding officers. That may not be true. The Washington Post reporter offers a few possibilities, but as he says, it’s hard to sympathize with those who want to punish excellent commanders who believed following protocol would only get themselves killed.

Poetry, Publishing

St. Paul, MN Publisher Vaulted to National Recognition

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Graywolf Press, a non-profit publisher of literary fiction (non-profit: are there any other kind?), has had great success recently, the latest being that one its poets, Elizabeth Alexander, will be reading a poem at the inauguration. They also publish Norwegian writer Per Petterson, author of Out Stealing Horses.

The Boston Globe reports: “By the day it’s getting harder and harder to do what they do,” said Alexander, also a professor of African-American Studies at Yale University. “They’re building the most important, interesting and rich poetry list of any press anywhere. They’re putting out more literary fiction, not less. They’re small, but they keep finding ways to step it up.”

Fiction, Writing

A Year of Work in the New Yorker

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Those who write for The New Yorker apparently believe in the abysmal boredom of life outside their city. Max Magee writes: “In revisiting all of the stories, one major over-arching theme emerged for me, the conflict between stories that center on what I call ‘suburban malaise’ (born out of ‘The Swimmer’ and ‘What We Talk about When We Talk about Love’ among many others) and those that don’t.”

Book Reviews, Creative Culture