Poirot would approve. My little grey cells got their exercise these last few weeks.
I have read three excellent thought-provoking books: a memoir/conversation about art; a nonfiction about the relationship between a wildlife rehabilitator and an owl; and a provocative novel about computer games. Yes gaming. I am someone who has never played a computer game, knows nothing about them, and has always faintly disapproved. But I have read a book and it has changed my mind.
People in my senior peer group often complain about technology but I don’t hear many laments about gaming, probably because we don’t know what it is. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin is a compelling story which is also an easily accessible introduction to this world.
Sadie and Sam aren’t a couple but they are brilliant game designers who produce a blockbuster before they have graduated from MIT and Harvard respectively. In much of the first half of the novel they plan and discuss their game, thus giving the average person an inkling about what is involved. I had no idea game design was so artistic. Sadie and Sam work on the problem of making their wave realistic (what is the right amount of light, shadow, color, movement?) and how to portray something transparent. A few days later, I read about this same problem in the following book about David Hockney as he figured out how to paint a splash.
In gaming, ideas or works of art are made to appear on the screen without the intermediaries of drawing or photography. How does that happen? I wish I knew at least a little about the general concept of how a computer works. I’m not good with machines, but I am good with language. Maybe I can start there.
Tomorrow is also a book about relationships, both friendship and love, the effects of success and tragedy. “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…” is the beginning of that famous Shakespeare quote when Macbeth laments the death of his wife and the futility of life in general. This novel puts the quote in a gaming context where, if things turn out badly, the player pushes restart and life begins anew. Maybe tomorrow can work out just fine.
Also optimistic is David Hockney who finds beauty and joy in the ordinary. In Spring Cannot Be Cancelled by Martin Gayford, Hockney’s years in Normandy during the pandemic (when he is in his 80s) are brought to life through description, illustration, and conversation.
There is much to learn about Hockney’s art in general: painting, photography, theater design, and iPad(!) But the emphasis on painting green and vibrant spring amidst lockdown and discouragement was wonderful to read. I love the title, both rebellious and hopeful at the same time.
More than the tutelage on art, I appreciated Hockney’s views on life. 1. “Pay attention,” he says. “Most people wouldn’t notice the Garden of Eden if they were walking through it.” 2. Immerse yourself in something you love; getting “out of yourself” is the highest thing most people can do. 3. People should not frantically hang on to youth; old age should be valued as an important phase of life in its own right. Artists live to ripe old age because they don’t think about bodies as they age; they think of something else.
I was lucky enough to discuss this book as part of the Honolulu Art Museum book club. It was chosen because there is a Hockney exhibit here, Perspective Should Be Reversed. This is a very art-knowledgeable group and our leader not only led our book talk, but afterwards steered us through the exhibition as well.
Dog owners have always been sure their pets could understand them, could communicate, could share human feelings, and they paid no attention to anyone who said differently. But when it comes to other animals, wild animals, people are not so sure.
In Alfie and Me, Carl Safina writes about the time, also during the pandemic, that he had a relationship with a wild owl. He had rescued her from death as a nestling and followed her through early maturity when she found a wild mate and became a successful mother raising three owlets. The author emphasizes feelings of community with this small being who would initiate social friendship chirps, answer when called, and come to say hello, not to be fed. Named after Alfalfa from The Little Rascals, Alfie learned to negotiate both worlds.
Safina is very concerned about the state of wildlife and the diminishment of a supporting wild environment. Interspersed with Alfie’s tale are detailed philosophical summaries of two opposing views of nature. The first, and oldest, are the indigenous and Asian philosophies which see the world as a balanced unity with humans as one part of it.
The second, more recent, starts with Plato and Christianity, which see humans as special and above nature. The physical world is believed to exist to be conquered and exploited by humans, to serve us. It is this mindset, which is in the ascendance with so many, that is the cause of our environmental troubles today.
Safina goes into great detail about both philosophies and the need to return to an outlook that has served humanity for millennia. The reader who enjoys philosophy will like his provocative views; the reader who doesn’t care for that can skip those parts and read this book as a charming story about an owl who definitely can think, communicate, and share human feelings – plus do so much more in its parallel universe than we can know.
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It looks like you found several books to recommend next year!!
Gaming doesn’t catch my fancy, but I would like to see ALFIE AND ME and SPRING CANNOT BE CANCELLED on our suggestion list for next year.
Ann
I, too, want to read the owl book; I love books about human-animal (or bird) relationships! Owls are quite different from other sorts of birds, as I understand it, and are worthy of being friendly with! Do suggest this one for our book club to read next year.
Merrily