Why Write?
John Updike is an author I’m getting re-acquainted with after years. If there are two things one should know about him, they are that he had a magnificent command of the language, and that he produced a volume of work that is truly monumental. How did he do it?
It’s no secret. He sat down every morning, without fail, and wrote. His daily goal was to produce three pages of writing that were up to his standards. He stuck to that goal for decades; through all the ups and downs of daily life, John Updike produced his three pages every day. Updike said once that he got the idea for his daily production from George Bernard Shaw. Shaw wrote five pages every day, rain or shine, and once he reached his daily goal he would stop — even if he was in the middle of a sentence. Hemingway also stopped in the middle of a sentence when he reached his goal, and he said it actually helped to get him started the next day, because he could just finish the sentence and be back in the writing mode.
January 3, 2012 Leave a comment
The mysteries of New Orleans
William Blake, in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell once wrote,
“The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom – for we never know what is enough until we know what is more than enough.”
While dubious in its veracity, it would seem that the denizens of New Orleans took the thought as their mantra, and never looked back. Ever since its founding in 1718, the city has been known as the ultimate Mecca for those interested in revelry of all kinds – be it musical, gourmet, visual or sensual, and it doesn’t take long for a visitor to bask in the medley of pleasures that the city has to offer. At the intersection of some of natures most potent forces, the city of New Orleans is nestled between a heady mixture of swamps, wetlands, angry rivers, canals and lakes. Many an author in their throes of enchantment with the city have likened it to Venice – not only in its penchant for sinking into the ground, but also in enabling large groups of Gaudily dressed revelers to celebrate through its streets during Mardi Gras. And this has become the city’s most famous face to the entire world, with maybe Jazz, and it’s cul
inary heritage trailing close behind.
It is a pity then, that most people come no closer to understanding this fabulous city than the average pub goer fathoms the stars when casually gazing up at the night sky. To understand the complex underpinnings of the culture that drives the city is akin to grasping a multitude of silken threads and reconstructing the finely woven shawl they came from. And the first step is to feel each one before joining them together.
The nights can be warm in new Orleans, even at the very end of the year, which is probably the best time to visit it. There is an air of mystery that permeates through the city at night, emboldening itself with every wisp of fog that com
es up from the Mississippi and coats everything without prejudice. Along the moonwalk, a cobblestoned path that runs next to the river, quaint lampposts take on the mantle of beacons, inviting in their warmth and light. Noise from the rest of the city dulls, as a cool wind blows down the river, with sudden bursts of warmth as it lifts off the swamps further away.
Andrei Cordescu described it best when he wrote,
‘The city at 3am is like ink and honey, passed through moonlight’.
Walk further up the river and suddenly the narrow city gives way to the wide, oak lined boulevards of St Charles street. Majestic mansions line the sides of the road, each no doubt steeped in the city’s history, good or bad. Wrought iron gates lead to beautifully manicured gardens, the house themselves masterpieces of various kinds of architectural styles. Gaze into their windows. Are you greeted by the warmth of brightly lit rooms with beautifully decorated Christmas trees? Or do you see instead token wreaths on the doors of unlit houses, paying homage to happier times in eras gone by? As you continue down, and catch your first glimpse of the city’s most famous necropolis, an involuntary shiver is wont to go down your spine. Lafayette cemetery number 1 has for centuries housed the dead, and has provided many a place to reflect and perhaps derive solace from the wisdom of those gone by.
October 3, 2011 Leave a comment