Category Archives: Writing

Books, Society, Writing

Found a Copy of Dreamsnake

Long out of print, I found a copy of Vonda McIntyre’s Dreamsnake on Abe Books.

dreamsnake

Ursula K. Le Guin wrote a thought-provoking review of the book in 2011, and why she thought it disappeared:

Theory #1: Ophidiophobia. The phobia is common and extends to pictures, even the mention, of snakes; and the book features them even in the title. A heroine who lets snakes crawl on her, and she’s named Snake? Oh, icky . . .

Theory #2: Sex. It’s an adult book. Snake, though, is barely more than a kid, setting out on her first trial of prowess, so that young women can and do identify with her, happily or longingly, as they do with Ayla in Jean Auel’s Earth’s Children books, though Snake’s taste in men is far better than Ayla’s. But could the book be approved in schools? The sexual mores are as various as the societies, including some very unorthodox customs, and Snake’s sexual behavior is both highly ethical and quite uninhibited. . .

Given the relentless fundamentalist vendettas against “witchcraft” and “pornography” (read imaginative literature and sexual realism) in the schools, few teachers in the 1980s could invite the firestorm that might be started by a right-wing parent who got a hint of how young Snake was carrying on. . .

Theory #3. The hypothesis of gendered reprinting. It appears that as a general rule books written by men get reprinted more frequently and over more years than books written by women.”
Le Guin, Ursula K. . Words Are My Matter (pp. 139-140). Small Beer Press. Kindle Edition.
Society, Writing

Comforting Cross-Cultural Pre-Covid Memory

In this time of anti-Asian hate crimes and Covid frustration, I thought of a wonderful day back in June 2014 — a garden party in Vancouver with folks of many cultures.

I am sharing this nearly seven-year-old post here again because I hope this memory brings a wee bit of comfort and joy to others.

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Had a wonderful evening last weekend. A BBQ hosted by friends of ours in Vancouver. Lovely old house in an older neighborhood. An evening in a gorgeous, modestly groomed, but more wild, back yard, with many burgeoning fruit trees and raspberry bushes.

We were the youngest couple there, and we’re in our mid-40s to mid-50s.

We’re a “mixed” couple, and so was everyone else. And some were in their 80s and 90s, and enjoying life to the full. Former neighbors, still friends, now living in old folks’ homes but graciously picked up and driven to this communal feast in their former ‘hood..

As the evening eased by, there were smatterings of Korean, Italian, and Japanese in the conversations. Not all understood by all present despite efforts at interpretation.

But everyone was cool with that. We were all happy to be with other convivial folks.

And all were sure to ensure that all were happy.

The food was a wonderful mélange of those cultures, and more.
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We can, we will, get back to this . . .
Pets, Writing

A Poem for Sora the Cat

I was watching Sora the Cat lazing in the sun with Dori the Turtle, and these words came pouring out. I didn’t have a notebook handy so I wrote them on my cell phone in an email to myself. I am not a poet by any means, but this was fun!

I know not where she sleeps
until
at dawn
I feel her presence in the room
then on the bed
she licks my face
in greeting
nips at my nose
I raise a corner
of the quilt
in invitation
her eyes glow in anticipation
and she eases
in next to my pillow
turns, turns
and snuggles into the crook
of my elbow
she starts to purr
stretches out a paw
and touches my cheek
she purrs so happily
that she gulps
she gurgles
we cuddle contentedly
as we greet the morning

sora the cat holding hands
Holding hands watching TV this evening. . . .

Books, Society, Writing

Savoring Le Guin’s Essays, Reviews

Sat down after lunch to read for half an hour and got lost for three hours in Ursula K. Le Guin’s non-fiction collection Words are My Matter: Writings about Life and Books.

A collection you want to read slowly, and savor. . .

One of her best-known quotations, so pertinent to the times we live in:

“I think hard times are coming when we will be wanting the voices of writers who can see alternatives to how we live now and can see through our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies. We will need writers who can remember freedom. Poets, visionaries – the realists of a larger reality.”—Ursula K. Le Guin
Writing

Meditations Upon Empty Space

Meditations upon empty space.

Contemplating the time spent searching over the course of a few days.

Do not search for what is missing, the answer lies inside.

Release your obsessions, set yourself free.

Become one in piece, um, peace, with the wee six-sided figure. . .

puzzle missing piece

Business, Society, Technology, Writing

Rights, Anti-Maskers, and Deniers

Some time ago I wrote about the increasing polarization in society between those who understand the need to hunker down and follow the recommendations of health authorities, and those who are getting increasingly irrational about imaginary abuses of their “rights.”

As I surmised back then, that polarization is increasing, and more people are acting out, threatening fellow citizens,  and our entire health-care system.

I am not an expert in constitutional law, nor am I a scientist, or a doctor. But I respect people who have dedicated decades of their lives to education and research.

Conversely, I have decreasing patience for adults who refuse to listen, refuse to learn, and refuse to behave in ways respectful of the health and well-being of their fellow citizens.

There is overwhelming evidence that Covid is real, and that it kills. And that it kills and seriously sickens not only the elderly. Those who survive it carry scars both physical and emotional that could last their entire lives.

So how is wearing a mask in public spaces such a horrific imposition?

I am tired of folks testing, stretching, and bending the rules. When in doubt follow the precautionary principle, not “can I get away with this” childishness.

If your group activity, be it sports, be it religion, be it whatever, is not on a list, just assume the better choice would be to use caution and stay within your family, or your small bubble.

“Well, gee, we didn’t see dodgeball for 50-to-55-year-olds on the list, so we thought it was OK,” just doesn’t cut it, eh?

Don’t turn on Dr. Henry. I see more posts along the lines of loving her in March, but hating her now. How the heck is that logical? She has little control over where this is going, especially if we can’t follow the rules.

And give her, and all the scientists and health-care professionals working on this some space. I know it drives some people crazy that science and medicine is constantly shifting. That advice changes. That recommendations and regulations change.

But that’s how it works. You trial something, you see the results, you trial again. . .

Yes, we’re tired. Yes, we’re stir-crazy. Yes we miss family and friends.

I haven’t seen an 88-year-old aunt since March, though she lives a five-minute drive away. We talk at least every week on the phone. Sad, but that’s the current situation.

Can we please keep on keeping on, and stay safe?

UPDATE (Dec. 12, 2020): I submitted this to the Burnaby Now as an opinion piece and it was published today.

Society, Writing

I Will Miss Longmire

Thought I saw something online recently about Netflix deleting Longmire.

Longmire was one of my fave TV shows. I’m sure that over the last few years I watched all of the episodes at least once, and many several times.

A gritty mix of Westerns and modern policing, the show tackled issues including Indigenous poverty/casino prosperity, prostitution, abuse of foreign workers, trophy hunting, alcoholism, PTSD . . .

It had bleeding heart liberals fighting for, and being rejected by, indigenous folks.

It had right-wing pro-gun folks.

It had good whites and bad whites.

It had good FNs/tribes, and bad ones.

It had weird cults and survivors.

Great writing, great acting. Revenge, despair, pain. . .
Life, eh?
Nature, Writing

The Joy of Sharing Nature

The joy of sharing nature. . .

On my Byrne Creek ravine loop this morning I was shooting spiders and webs, and a young woman passing by on the trail stopped and asked me what I was taking pictures of. Usually when I answer “spiders and webs” I get the “crazy old man” look.

But she beamed and said, “Cool, can I show you a spider I shot on my cell phone?”

Uh, OK. She held her phone out at arm’s length, and sure enough she had a neat video of a spider working on a web.

And then later as I was approaching our back gate I saw a young mother with a stroller staring up into the trees. “Look,” she said, “a Pileated Woodpecker!”

Sure enough she’d spotted one of the gorgeous birds and we watched together for a minute while I fired away.

It warms the cockles of my heart to see others taking delight in nature.
Japan, Society, Writing

Reflections on the A-Bomb Anniversary

There’s been a lot of chat about the anniversary of the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

I have visited Hiroshima several times and Nagasaki once. I have read many accounts of the horrors. I lived in Japan for 14 years and loved it.

But I always was uncomfortable with Japanese denial of any horrors that they perpetrated in the war.

There was never any mention of Japan’s imperialistic invasions of east and south Asia. Or the thousands of so-called “comfort women” of several Asian countries forced into servicing the Japanese army every place it invaded.

Any call for such recognition was met with threats of violence from right-wing Japanese groups, and that continues to this day.

While accurate numbers are hard to establish, the Japanese Imperial Army likely raped, tortured, and killed more civilians in the Nanjing Massacre alone than combined civilian deaths at Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

The conventional battles of the Pacific at places like Okinawa were also horrific, with a pervasive “fight to the last man” blindness by the Japanese army and marines. The Japanese military pressed local civilians into service, and it’s documented that civilians were forced to commit mass suicide by the Japanese military instead of being allowed to give up.

History is complex and complicated. Times and attitudes are always changing. Is there any point in debating the degree of horror of this massacre, to that genocide, to this bombing, to that. . .

I don’t know. But I believe that mass amnesia and denial is a slippery slope.

Japan has never had a Willy Brandt moment. . .

Books, Nature, Sustainability, Writing

Two Thumbs Up for The Global Forest

I just finished the delectable and moving collection of essays called The Global Forest: 40 Ways Trees Can Save Us by Diana Beresford-Kroeger.

Written some ten years ago. the book is prophetic, and the last few paragraphs resonate deeply today. A few snippets:

“. . .the children of this generation will want to help the planet and nature in a collective way. . . They will alter their parents’ ways. . . ”

“The media is filled with stories of nature’s abuse. . . There seems to be no end to greed. . .”

“But the children exist. . . the consumerism of their lives bores holes of unbearable solitude. They are already reaching for something else, something elusive, something that is color-blind to race. It is called dignity, the dignity of life, all life.”

A wonderful book for those who love and nurture nature, and who can lose themselves in gorgeous writing. I often found myself rereading paragraphs and even entire essays.