It is so interesting how life interrupts any idea we have for it really. There is always something haunting about the places we thought we'd return to and didn't--what those lives would have looked like. And of course in reading this, I'm fascinated about what drew you there, what drew you elsewhere. Sometimes what looks like a straight line will eventually end up being a circle, if we go far enough.... Loved reading this.
That's a lovely reflection, Freya! I hope it will lead to a post of your own. That idea of a straight line ending up forming a circle is beguiling. I guess our minds/souls don't have to adhere to the rules of mathematics!
All lovely to read, these unexpected connections and literary travels you have. The “unboxing” of Chaucer with his son was a fabulously imaginative scene!
Jeffrey, this was wonderful, and took an unexpected turn, which turned out to be fitting. The ideas presented of cover memories and assuming the idea of choosing were enlightening. And I really loved the way the literary references worked in this piece.
Thank you so much for this generous reflection, Stephanie! I also find the idea of cover memories curiously enlightening. I found that idea of Freud's out of a need to work out what was going on. How could a memory like that hide in plain sight?
Beautiful piece, Jeffrey, and like so much of your writing, it leaves so much to contemplate and sows seeds of remembrance. I couldn't help but think of several pointillist paintings I saw in a recent exhibit. The dots don't have to connect in order to form something of beauty and worth.
A brilliant meditation on the twists and turns of a life well lived, Jeffrey. I particularly like the idea of the human heart lacking an astrolabe to guide it and plot its errant, forked path.
Here’s what Tenerife is like now (to us at least) in case you never do make it back…
Thank you! I've just read your post and it's great. Just what I needed! I still feel pulled back there from time to time. I was in Tenerife for two years before I moved to Gran Canaria.
This strikes me deeply. I too have had the experience of recovering a completely submerged memory, and it was quite startling. You stitch your literary references together in a way that still provides cover here, but it is so felicitous - especially in your reading - that only a clod would invade your privacy. Beautifully done.
Thank you, Tara! I really appreciate your comments, as I regard you as an expert in stitching together references. This piece cost me a lot of effort; it was hard to grapple into shape. So I'm very glad that it worked for you.
I find this piece unlike any other you've written, I think. The exploratory, desultory nature of it, with unexpected turns, development of the shifting topic as if you didn't know where you were going. It intrigues. And the atmosphere of the ferry ride adds to the mysterious uncertainty. It made me think of Mark Doty's poem "Night Ferry," in *My Alexandria*.
Thank you for your very perceptive comment, Jay. I did feel literally and figuratively a little at sea while writing this, as the bad faith of writing about abandoned books and not the lost relationship hit me mid-voyage. I'm glad if it comes across as "exploratory" rather than simply muddled, though the latter word came to mind as I was trying to find the shape the essay should take on.
Thank you for mentioning Mark Doty's poem, which I have just looked up. It has some really beautiful lines. The poem's statement that "There's no beautiful binding/for this story" certainly applies to my own. On balance, I'm glad I didn't know the poem before I wrote the essay, as I would probably have drowned in its wake.
That is a beautiful couple of lines. The book/narrative metaphor is one of a number that extend through the poem. The poem's sense of being between two shores and that vague scent of woodsmoke from the shore at the ending approach to landing both resonate with me as of piece with your essay's state of wondering.
Between two shores is a powerful phrase and image. Your comments have left me feeling encouraged and enriched (not least by the reference to the Doty poem) and I am truly grateful to you for that, Jay.
Hi Jeffrey, I love how you navigate your past aligned with the present and also slide (or try to possible envision) what your future might bring without having a pat course and of course, it’s perfectly fine, and well said. And an interesting and clever way to write about somebody, but not write about somebody. M is in your story and not. I like this very much
And look forward to reading more. Memories, and memoir, shows us much about life that we otherwise wouldn’t see, like those black rocks under the rogue waves.
It is so interesting how life interrupts any idea we have for it really. There is always something haunting about the places we thought we'd return to and didn't--what those lives would have looked like. And of course in reading this, I'm fascinated about what drew you there, what drew you elsewhere. Sometimes what looks like a straight line will eventually end up being a circle, if we go far enough.... Loved reading this.
That's a lovely reflection, Freya! I hope it will lead to a post of your own. That idea of a straight line ending up forming a circle is beguiling. I guess our minds/souls don't have to adhere to the rules of mathematics!
All lovely to read, these unexpected connections and literary travels you have. The “unboxing” of Chaucer with his son was a fabulously imaginative scene!
Thank you, Kate. I had fun thinking about that.
Always loved that Beckett quotation - and you place it perfectly.
Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it.
Transportive as always, Jeffrey. With each piece I gift myself the time to savor, a journey… outside of my own time and place.
A little embarrassed to note I wasn’t familiar with that Beckett quote—the perfect bookend, and also, now added to my collection of most loved.
Thank you so much for your kind comments, Bree! And I'm glad to hear you liked that Beckett quote.
Jeffrey, this was wonderful, and took an unexpected turn, which turned out to be fitting. The ideas presented of cover memories and assuming the idea of choosing were enlightening. And I really loved the way the literary references worked in this piece.
Thank you so much for this generous reflection, Stephanie! I also find the idea of cover memories curiously enlightening. I found that idea of Freud's out of a need to work out what was going on. How could a memory like that hide in plain sight?
Beautifully woven themes and a direct hit - I’m left with a pang of unknown memory of my own.
Thank you, Carol. I'm glad this worked for you. And I hope the pang isn't a painful one!
I loved how you used the theme of the sea to represent the sense of unknowable expanse and depth of a life
But we still try to connect our dots even if it’s just to “fail better”
Really beautiful Jeffrey
Thank you, David. "Unknowable expanse and depth of a life" is very well put. I'm grateful to have you as a reader.
Yes, we do keep trying to connect the dots, and your own wonderful essays are great examples of that.
Beautiful piece, Jeffrey, and like so much of your writing, it leaves so much to contemplate and sows seeds of remembrance. I couldn't help but think of several pointillist paintings I saw in a recent exhibit. The dots don't have to connect in order to form something of beauty and worth.
Thank you, Lori. That's a beautiful thought about the dots not needing to connect. I'm very grateful to you for that.
Thoughtfully written, Jeffery! Give me much to ponder on.
Thank you, Yi Xue! It seems we've both written about travel this week!
A brilliant meditation on the twists and turns of a life well lived, Jeffrey. I particularly like the idea of the human heart lacking an astrolabe to guide it and plot its errant, forked path.
Here’s what Tenerife is like now (to us at least) in case you never do make it back…
https://open.substack.com/pub/marcoandsabrina/p/tenerife-dragon-trees-pyramids-and?r=10ijux&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
Thank you! I've just read your post and it's great. Just what I needed! I still feel pulled back there from time to time. I was in Tenerife for two years before I moved to Gran Canaria.
Great to hear! There’s a story about Gran Canaria coming up one of these days
I love your piece about Chaucer writing for his son. I didn’t know it existed - what a treasure from the past!
Thank you, Liz! I was quite moved to read about Chaucer's efforts to help his son, too. A treasure indeed!
This strikes me deeply. I too have had the experience of recovering a completely submerged memory, and it was quite startling. You stitch your literary references together in a way that still provides cover here, but it is so felicitous - especially in your reading - that only a clod would invade your privacy. Beautifully done.
Thank you, Tara! I really appreciate your comments, as I regard you as an expert in stitching together references. This piece cost me a lot of effort; it was hard to grapple into shape. So I'm very glad that it worked for you.
Please keep joining those dots, Jeffrey!
😊
I find this piece unlike any other you've written, I think. The exploratory, desultory nature of it, with unexpected turns, development of the shifting topic as if you didn't know where you were going. It intrigues. And the atmosphere of the ferry ride adds to the mysterious uncertainty. It made me think of Mark Doty's poem "Night Ferry," in *My Alexandria*.
Thank you for your very perceptive comment, Jay. I did feel literally and figuratively a little at sea while writing this, as the bad faith of writing about abandoned books and not the lost relationship hit me mid-voyage. I'm glad if it comes across as "exploratory" rather than simply muddled, though the latter word came to mind as I was trying to find the shape the essay should take on.
Thank you for mentioning Mark Doty's poem, which I have just looked up. It has some really beautiful lines. The poem's statement that "There's no beautiful binding/for this story" certainly applies to my own. On balance, I'm glad I didn't know the poem before I wrote the essay, as I would probably have drowned in its wake.
Thank you, Jay, for being such a great reader.
That is a beautiful couple of lines. The book/narrative metaphor is one of a number that extend through the poem. The poem's sense of being between two shores and that vague scent of woodsmoke from the shore at the ending approach to landing both resonate with me as of piece with your essay's state of wondering.
Between two shores is a powerful phrase and image. Your comments have left me feeling encouraged and enriched (not least by the reference to the Doty poem) and I am truly grateful to you for that, Jay.
Great piece, Jeffrey.
It’s a wonderful thing being able to join the dots of our life with writing. :)
Thank you, Michael. It is indeed wonderful to get the chance to do this, even if I don't always succeed.
Gosh. Leavings without return always make me want to know what's going on there now. I have to glance back.
I think something was pushing me onwards in those days. I'm reminded of Eliot's "not farewell but fare forward".
Hi Jeffrey, I love how you navigate your past aligned with the present and also slide (or try to possible envision) what your future might bring without having a pat course and of course, it’s perfectly fine, and well said. And an interesting and clever way to write about somebody, but not write about somebody. M is in your story and not. I like this very much
And look forward to reading more. Memories, and memoir, shows us much about life that we otherwise wouldn’t see, like those black rocks under the rogue waves.
Thank you, Maureen. It's a joy to have a reader like you. And I love your expression, "black rocks under the rogue waves"!