ET: An Old Family Friend Who Came Home To Rest*
“Maybe life is a process of trading hopes for memories.”― William T. Vollmann
Over the last few days several friends of mine sent me the New Yorker article about Richard and Lisa Howorth, the owners of Square Books, one of the greatest bookstores in the world (no hyperbole) who, as the article headlines, transformed the great city of Oxford Mississippi. Oxford is the liberal bastion of the state, a place where someone like Richard could become mayor, a place for writers and other artists to commune and thrive. And yes, it is Square Books, which overlooks the city hall, that is the heartbeat of the town and a main reason for its modern intellectual coloring.
There is nothing like having a coffee on the second story veranda (shown in the above picture) of the store, with a newly purchased book in hand, looking over the square and taking in the heavy Southern air. When I unexpectedly found myself in Mississippi as Hurricane Katrina hit, it was sitting and sipping with my friends Circe and Simon as the first signs of the squall kicked in when we realized things were getting chaotic. Even with darkness taking over the sky, it was hard to leave that perfect spot (of course, we did, starting an adventure that is a story for another time).
Walking into Square Books is like walking into someone’s home, if the home is filled with the most knowledgeable book collectors around. The sense of family emits from everyone that works there…the sense of ownership of the literary light and Southern artistic tradition. And without comparing it to other great bookstores like City Lights and Green Apple, there is something truly unique about it. Like both of the other bookstores, Square Books champions its local heroes and raises the consciousness on new writers. What makes it unique is how it seems to make this history come alive, just by walking through the store, as if you were on a Disneyland e-ticket ride (replacing the goofiness with deep artistic inspiration).
While the New Yorker piece does a fab job in digging into the story of Richard and Lisa (with a focus on Richard…but the two together are definitely the real subject), there are just a few flourishes I would like to add about these acquaintances of mine. My friend Jane Rule Burdine introduced me to them when I first started voyaging down to Mississippi some twenty+ years ago, and it was almost hard to understand how impactful and incredible the couple were to the community, because they came off as such casual, kind and fun folk. Richard and I have enjoyed a late-night wang-dang-doodle on Jane Rules’ fenced in porch while Lisa showed up ready to party when I celebrated my 50th birthday in a cotton field…with a small wooden folk-art bust of William Faulkner as a present. Part of their greatness is their ability to be such change makers while still being able to hang out and enjoy the ride with friends…with friends of friends. Their true love of their community helps perpetuate a loving community.
Just writing these words raises my desire to get back to Mississippi. Yes, it is the state that underlines and highlights the big big issues of this country, but it is also filled with incredible people…the greatest music, and such a fantastic literary legacy. A product of bad politics is great, revolutionary art. And Mississippi has the worst political players in the country. Square Books celebrates the revolution.
(And just a note: if everyone was able to easily vote in Mississippi, it would lean progressive as it did not as long ago as you might think. Make Mississippi Blues Again.)
An evening of experimental sounds and film with an indie supergroup
Next week, August 2nd, the first new band I have put out on Birdman in YEARS, The Seedsmen To The World, will be playing at the historic Vogue Movie Theater in San Francisco along with Andy Cabic of Vetiver, Paula Frazer of Tarnation, S Glass an assortment of other incredible characters playing along with the films of Harry Smith and others. I have a few tickets in my quiver. This should be a great show (you can listen to the album here).
“Music Legends on Maui” features 80 interviews compiled over 40 years
“Offering a unique social/cultural history, (this new book) covers civil rights, segregation, environmental movements, Hawaiian sovereignty, and the power of music to inspire and raise consciousness. Harry Belafonte confronting the KKK, Carl Perkins defending the ‘Devil’s rock’ music, Joan Baez at the March on Washington, John Lennon protesting censorship, Hugh Masekela and apartheid, Willie Nelson championing small farmers, Bonnie Raitt at Standing Rock, and the impact of TM on the Beatles, the Beach Boys, and The Doors.”
Is the Silence of the Great Plains to Blame for ‘Prairie Madness’?
For anyone who blazes new trails into unknown lands, depression is a major factor that is often not written about, and suicide is not an uncommon end. Of the many reasons why settler life is so difficult, I had not thought of silence as being one of them. With the advent of portable speakers, bluetooth, wifi and streaming, this might truly be a story of a bygone era…
Call Of The Wild: Bernie Krause On The Disappearing Music Of The Natural World
A blast from the past, but fits nicely with the above read: “Bernie Krause has recorded jaguars growling, frogs chorusing at dawn, singing cottonwood trees, and groaning glaciers. A naturalist and pioneer in the emerging discipline of soundscape ecology, he has traveled the globe from the Arctic to the Amazon, making what he calls ‘whole-habitat’ field recordings of wild places threatened by climate change, commercial development, and industries such as mining and logging. Every site he’s recorded, he says, has a defining sound signature as unique as any musical composition.”
Getty Museum and Apple Bring William Blake’s Monsters to Life for New AR Project
Woah: “The Australian artist duo Tin Nugyen and Ed Cutting have brought to life an animated installation that will be displayed in a new Apple store in London, the Art Newspaper reports. Originally conceived for the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, the installation is available to view through an augmented reality app called United Visions, which shares its name with the project itself.” The Tiger head from Tyger Tyger will be there!
Life as a Terrorist: Uncovering my FBI file
Here is another oldie-but-goodie. Today is the birthday of one of my favorite living writers William T. Vollmann whose epic 7-Volume look at the history of violence Rising Up and Rising Down, that my wife helped publish, is a work that will stand the test of time as one of the greatest researched pieces of non-fiction of all time. And he also won the National Book Award for Fiction! I would have loved to have published a new piece of his today, but it does not look like he has been active this year (if you have seen an article…send it to me). But the above article is a great one, as he delves into the being the FBI thinks he is…
The Pyramids :: Aomawa – The 1970s Recordings
“The Pyramids intended to create Liberation Music wholly inspired by the ursprung of African art…Strut has compiled The Pyramids’ initial 1970s output in an expansive 4LP Set—Aomawa: The 1970s Recordings. In addition to the ensemble’s trio of self-released records, there is a chance to hear the energy emitted from the group in-person on Live at KQED. Recorded in 1975, this set captures the group in the middle of their initial run. And it should be noted: don’t expect your grandmother’s Spiritual Jazz.”
If You Said You Would Come With Me
By: John Ashbery
In town it was very urban but in the country cows were covering the hills. The clouds were near and very moist. I was walking along the pavement with Anna, enjoying the scattered scenery. Suddenly a sound like a deep bell came from behind us. We both turned to look. “It’s the words you spoke in the past, coming back to haunt you,” Anna explained. “They always do, you know.”
Indeed I did. Many times this deep bell-like tone had intruded itself on my thoughts, scrambling them at first, then rearranging them in apple-pie order. “Two crows,” the voice seemed to say, “were sitting on a sundial in the God-given sunlight. Then one flew away.”
“Yes . . . and then?” I wanted to ask, but I kept silent. We turned into a courtyard and walked up several flights of stairs to the roof, where a party was in progress. “This is my friend Hans,” Anna said by way of introduction. No one paid much attention and several guests moved away to the balustrade to admire the view of orchards and vineyards, approaching their autumn glory. One of the women however came to greet us in a friendly manner. I was wondering if this was a “harvest home,” a phrase I had often heard but never understood.
“Welcome to my home . . . well, to our home,” the woman said gaily. “As you can see, the grapes are being harvested.” It seemed she could read my mind. “They say this year’s vintage will be a mediocre one, but the sight is lovely, nonetheless. Don’t you agree, Mr. . . .”
“Hans,” I replied curtly. The prospect was indeed a lovely one, but I wanted to leave. Making some excuse I guided Anna by the elbow toward the stairs and we left.
“That wasn’t polite of you,” she said dryly.
“Honey, I’ve had enough of people who can read your mind. When I want it done I’ll go to a mind reader.”
“I happen to be one and I can tell you what you’re thinking is false. Listen to what the big bell says: ‘We are all strangers on our own turf, in our own time.’ You should have paid attention. Now adjustments will have to be made.”
