Cutting Up in Black & White, Part One

"Well then, we went and had tea with Henry James today ... and Henry James fixed me with his staring blank eye — it is like a child's marble — and said 'My dear Virginia, they tell me — they tell me — they tell me — that you — as indeed being your fathers daughter nay your grandfathers grandchild — the descendant I may say of a century — of a century — of quill pens and ink — ink — ink pots, yes, yes, yes, they tell me — ahm m m — that you, that you, that you write in short.' This went on in the public street, while we all waited, as farmers wait for the hen to lay an egg — do they? — nervous, polite, and now on this foot now on that." --Virginia Woolf

From today's Writer's Almanac site. (Thank you, dear Garrison.) As solemn as I am today (& lately), this made me laugh out loud. It's the natal day of Henry James. I will elaborate, in the summer, on the big huge embarrassing booboo gaffe scene I made /committed/created in an academic department one fine spring day. Briefly, then...I was caught mocking James, his plots, sentences, & the stentorian-voiced (female) professor who taught his oeuvre--ahem. (Let me be clear: she was a literary luminousa & scary. Grown men quaked in her presence.) My impromptu comedy skit, including different voices--when I go for it, I go big, people--was a hoot; everyone laughed until they cried (or peed their pants.).Then all went suddenly silent. The sickening realization that, holy cow-wow, she's right behind me. Right? Where is everyone going? You're leaving me alone? Cowards!

I blame...my mother (of course I do). Yes, and all relatives & family friends who encouraged me to perform, to mug for their cameras, & generally to entertain them. It had a weird effect of making me even more shy--except when performing. (And now, they want me to pull a Tina Fey. Too late, people. Besides, do you realize that you will be in this stuff? Huh?)

It cannot be overstated how often my mother was stopped & asked: do you know who you & your little girl remind me of? Also what cannot be overstated is how much my second sister looks like the young Shirley. [Photographs by Allan Grant in 1957/LIFE archives]

PS: Mom, et al: you asked for it. What can I say? You have a few months to procure hush money.

Elegance on Wheels

The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart. ~Iris Murdoch, The Red and the Green

[photograph by Mikael of Cycle Chic from Copenhagen via flickr]