"There is a risk involved, but in the present circumstances I believe it is a risk worth running. I do not believe we have managed to revitalize the world we live in, and I do not believe it is worth the trouble of clinging to; but I do propose something to get us out of our marasmus, instead of continuing to complain about it, and about the boredom, inertia, and stupidity of everything." -- Antonin Artaud

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Catching Up on September: Part 2

This is a continuation of my chronicling the events of September. I like to call this installment:

Chapter Two: Late September, or What Happens to a Dream Referred?

So towards the end of September, Facebook notified me that one of my favorite authors, Sarah Vowell was going to be one of the many speakers or readers at the Library of Congress's National Book Reading Fair. For those of who don't know her, you probably have heard her voice before. As anyone who knows me is aware, she provided the voice of Violet Parr from The Incredibles--the invisible teenage girl.

Yeah, this picture might already be saved to my computer and occasionally do a cameo as my desktop background picture.

She was reading from her newest work about the history of Hawaii, Unfamiliar Fishes. I very quickly decided that I would be spending the day (24 Sep 2011) in DC and that I would make a whole day of it by going to play in the evening. But yes, all the planets revolved around my chance to meet Sarah Vowell so she could sign my book.

And as you can tell, while I do not have Unfamiliar Fishes, I had plenty of other options to choose from.

I went with The Partly Cloudy Patriot. That was the first book I ever heard her read from and it has a lot of sentimental value to me. So yeah, after the fabulous reading I went to stand in line so that she could sign my book. It was awesome even though I couldn't think of anything to say to her when I met her. The same thing happened when I met Suzan-Lori Parks and signed my copy of her plays. This time at least, I was told that I could write something for her to use to sign my book. At first, I wanted to have her write, "For one who understood what the Gore campaign could have learned from watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer." But then I figured that was too long. So I went with this instead:

Sorry for the blurry resolution.

If you can't make out the inscription, it says: "To Allan--to not know me is to love me." It was something she said at the reading in Minnesota that was broadcast back in 2002; otherwise known as the first time I heard her. She said it after a stranger in the audience shouted a proposal to her. "'Will I marry him?' was the question. Um, sure. You're in the dark and I can't tell who you are, so why not? No, no. I'm sure it looks all fine from 50 yards away but believe me, to not know me is to love me." I mentioned that she said it at one of her readings one time and I like it. Her response: "that does sound like something I would say." And that was our exchange. I felt that it fit, the thing I asked her to write because honestly I think there's some wit and truth to it. At the end of the day, as much as I admire her and love her writing, it's quite possible that I might not really like to know who she is in every day life. Part of me still doubts that, but for now, it seems like a really insightful thing to say.

I spent the rest of the day reading in the restaurant in the basement of the Smithsonian Museum for American History. I was there until it closed and then when I sat outside (still reading homework) waiting for the museum to close, I ended up getting a free pretzel. I thought that was kinda cool.

The night ended with a ride to Arlington. I went to a Samuel Beckett play called "Happy Days." It's about an elderly woman buried in the dirt who just talks. It's like she's talking to the audience, but she never really acknowledges the audience, so it's more like she's just talking to ward off the silence. She wants desperately for her male companion (possibly her husband???) to acknowledge her and validate any statement that she makes, but he either cannot hear her or he chooses not to respond. It is so heartbreaking and yet so hopeful. It's a Beckett play and it was quite amazing.


It was in a really cool space too. The Artisphere. Their building had a giant white sphere on the outside and inside was very classy. I really enjoyed it. I hope something takes me there again soon.

Oh and there was also a time I got a free ticket to a stand-up comedy show called "Allah Made Me Funny." It spoke to me--religious identity based performance? is anyone surprised. But really, it was absolutely hilarious. Good times at the end of September. Good times.

3 comments:

rachel said...

mr. dr. davis--i miss our friendship squad days! let's go back to the summer days where we all got together for freshly baked goods and a jolly ol' game of hit the deck or epic duels. then again, you seem to be having quite the time of your life on the east coast! authors, museums...don't forget us little people, sir! don't forget the unicorn raptor in all his goiter glory!

efc said...

My favorite part was when Bonnie Tyler's literal army of clones stormed the stage...

Sounds like a francing awesome weekend

Casey said...

Brooke and I are reading Unfamilar Fishes now. I like her love/hate relationship with Puritans.