I’m reading The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, amused at the antics of boys without electronics. I was never a boy like Tom. My most boyish habit at an elementary school age was riding my bike around our neighborhood or around my house. My neighborhood was essentially a rectangle with elevation at the two top corners and depression at the corner close to my house. The fourth corner was a curve on the slope up to the highest point. That meant I could bike up to the end of my street and ride back at breakneck speed. I don’t remember how often I applied brakes, if at all. It was quiet street. The main traffic would have been people returning from work, and I wasn’t out at that time.
In chapter 14, Tom, Joe, and Huck have run away from their village to live as pirates on an island in the Mississippi River. Free from civilization, they swam every hour, marveled at birds and bugs, cooked the food they stole as preparation for life on the lam. This is a contrast from how the normally spent their free time, which was bowling into each other, reenacting scenes from Robin Hood, and conducting inquests into the death of stray cats. You see? Completely different.
Tom’s life is a challenge to modern life, or maybe I mean it’s a challenge to me. I’m having a harder time reading lately and I’m avoiding writing too. I’ve been saying I need to take some time off, and I’ve gotten that this week, but I need more. Maybe not time off, but something — time away, a longer break of routine maybe.
What else do we have today?
The Dystopia of Leibowitz: Bethel McGrew writes about a sci-fi classic that is frequently recommended, A Canticle for Leibowitz. “The book doesn’t lend itself to easy description for the first-time reader. Whenever I try, I just keep saying that it’s very weird, and very Catholic. The cadence of the book is suffused with the cadences of the liturgy, the give-and-take of Versicle and Rejoinder. The corridors echo and re-echo with the sounds of masses sung and Latin spoken, no translation provided. A young Protestant friend told me it was enough to make him almost cross the Tiber.”
On Writing: Samuel James lays down a few real world principles. “By far, the safer road to becoming a good writer—and experiencing some measure of success—is to cultivate a compulsive need to write. Why? Because a compulsive need is what drives most people engaged in any activity toward greatness.”
John Updike: Patrick Kurp considers what endures of the work of this Pennsylvania native. “As a boy I wanted to be a cartoonist. Light verse (and the verse that came my way was generally light) seemed a kind of cartooning in words, and through light verse I first found my way into print.”
Photo: John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
