I've had an interesting -- and largely unintentional -- barrage of September 11th references in the last few weeks of August. We received
United 93 and
World Trade Center from Netflix; they happened to be next on our queue. The author of
Julie & Julia wrote about her experience at a temporary secretarial job... at a government firm fielding suggestions for a 9/11 memorial. The first essay in
my latest Barbara Kingsolver book was a rumination on the events of September 11th... I didn't find out until later that Kingsolver began writing that book of essays on 9/12/01.
I felt
United 93 was well-researched, and true-to-life. The film ran more or less in real time, and cuts from the plane to the military to air traffic controllers, building a mounting sense of confusion and fear. Each passenger was represented by a specific actor; I found later that many families met the actors portraying their loved ones. The film played like a good, unflinching, unbiased documentary.
World Trade Center wasn't nearly as good. I respect that the artists involved were making their tribute, but as a movie it was neither engaging nor entertaining.
The author of
Julie & Julia was surprisingly -- and dare I say refreshingly -- frank regarding her frustrations dealing with outrageous suggestions for a 9/11 memorial. She also writes rather bluntly about her loathing of Republicans. I was pretty amused by her rants. From reviews I've read, some readers have (of course) been offended and feel she is cold and dispassionate. I found her open and funny... someone with whom I wouldn't mind hanging out, and with whom I'd feel comfortable saying all those things I wouldn't say in polite company.
Small Wonder's title essay is sure to be controversial (Kingsolver did make the list of the 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America, along with any other prominent Democrat or Liberal you can think of). She describes the enemy as fear rather than a person, and writes "it would require the deepest possible shift of our hearts to live in this world of fundamental animosity and devote ourselves not the the escalating exertion to kill, but rather, to lulling animosity to sleep." And this, to me, is what I take away from the events of 9/11.
Even on that day, driving to my grandmother's funeral with my fiancee and Marine brother, I was angry but felt no hate. I didn't want revenge. I wanted to grieve, to heal, and to rise up. And then I wanted to understand why there is such hate out there, and how to heal it. I had not considered -- and wanted no part of -- an unending, escalating back-and-forth of misconception and conflict.
Years later, I have some understanding about the hate out there, and about how we may be perceived in countries unlike ours, as well as some that are not so unlike ours. And how little of what we are doing is working to change the perceptions, hate, violence.
I worry a lot about this world gone mad, about wars and foreign relations and the numerous divisions in our own country: by race, economics, religion, sexuality, party lines. I worry about intolerance and injustice, what I can do to combat it, whether I can make an impact. When I think of what a troubled time this is, I try to remind myself that nearly every generation has had its own terrors to overcome. But it's hard to think of them when this is what I'm experiencing. I just wish I knew how to do it, how to lull some of the world's animosity to sleep.
A friend of mine recently said he dislikes liberals, partially because he feels they are spoiled idealists, ashamed of our country. It was a constructive discussion (such a great start!); an opportunity to debate and come to terms. Because dear reader, I am quite the bleeding-heart liberal, and I'll admit to some discountenance. I find myself disagreeing with a lot of things that go on and hoping for change. But while I feel this young nation may be wayward in its teenage years, I believe in its greatness. I love it as it fumbles and finds its way, am exaspirated by its angry outburts and inspired by its compassionate outpourings. I love it with a fierce protectiveness, and I want to see it at its best.
I am, indeed, a liberal. But to me, that has less to do with my political beliefs about civil liberties and social progress. (I roll my eyes at the ACLU as much as my Republican friends.) What it has to do with is my idealistic child-like faith that we can work to make things better, that, even though this world may never achieve perfect harmony, we can accept and maybe even help one another. That perhaps we can lull at least some animosity to sleep.
and I bought a set of huge (size 35) wooden needles, and a skein of a mohair/nylon/wool blend, with which I'm thinking of knitting armwarmers for use in my office.
I've been a fan of Barbara Kingsolver since I got Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and was happy to hear that she had done some short stories. I really enjoyed this collection, though I'm worried I can't come up with anything more insightful than what's on the back of the book! Stories included in this collection are: