The Robert B. Parker/Spenser Memorial Read: A Life Well-Written

I was saddened by the news of Robert B. Parker’s death this last January even though I only started reading Parker’s mystery novels a couple of years ago. (I actually only started reading any mystery fiction about five years ago.) I so enjoy Parker’s style and wit – interesting, lively plots and the prominent use of dialog to advance story and develop characters. Just plain fun, escapist fiction -  though Parker was no literary slouch, having earned a Ph.D. in literature from Boston University.

Although, I hadn’t read all of Parker’s books, once I discovered Parker through his more recent works, I started picking up his earlier books when I saw them at used bookstores or garage sales, or to round out an Amazon order. Since I had most of them on hand already, news of Parker’s death prompted me to go back and start at the beginning of the Spenser series – The Godwulf Manuscript, (c) 1973. So for the past couple of months, I’ve just kept on through the entire Spenser series, in chronological order. It’s been extremely enjoyable – even rereading those I’d read quite recently.

Though each novel is written to stand alone as a crime novel, like most series in the mystery genre, a repertory of prime characters continues throughout. Apparently, the Spenser series is the most autobiographical of Parker’s works, and there’s an intimacy and authenticity in the evolution of these particular characters which shines through.

The main character, Spenser, is an intelligent, literate, ex-prizefighter, ex-cop turned private investigator – a tough, good-guy, wise-cracking thug with a big heart and who loves to cook. His long-time girlfriend, Susan Silverman, is a psychologist. The other most-constant character is Spenser’s best friend, Hawk – another ex-fighter toughie with noble intent – though Hawk’s activities and motivations often wander deeper into the realm of  illegal than his buddy Spenser’s.

As a psychology buff, I am naturally fond of Parker’s use of the dialog between Spenser and his psychologist- true-love, Susan, to effectively interject psychological elements into the resolution of each mystery. Parker often uses the same vehicle to comment on timely or newsworthy issues.

Within the gestalt of reading all of these books in rapid succession, I particularly enjoyed the dialog and evolution of the relationship between Spenser and Silverman as a reflective chronicle of the evolution of masculine and feminine stereotypes through some of the the most turbulent times of the feminist movement. As in life, there are no permanent or pat resolutions to the difficulties that surface, but, in my opinion, Parker did an excellent job showing us that the differences between men and women are as vital and important as our equalities. The Spenser-Silverman relationship flourishes because each honors the other’s individuality with compassion and a willingness to listen (plus a healthy thread of sexual intimacy).

It may have been coincidence, but repeatedly when purchasing Parker’s books, or reading them in public, I had women comment to me at how much their husbands or boyfriends liked Parker’s books. I hope this is not an accurate indicator of the ratio of Parker’s female fans. If so, it’s a shame, really. Though Robert B. Parker’s male protagonists are often violent and always extremely masculine, I perceive Parker’s message as, in many ways, strongly feminist.

Looking for Rachel Wallace, written in 1980, was a particularly pleasant surprise. I’m sure it was considered quite provocative when originally published.  The book juxtaposes Spenser’s competent, extreme masculinity against the radical feminist rhetoric of open lesbian, Rachel Wallace, who Spenser is tasked with protecting, and ultimately rescuing (using lethal violence) when she is kidnapped after firing Spenser. When thanking Spenser for the rescue, Wallace states: “You still embody much that I must continue to disparage. I still disapprove of you.”

Spenser’s reply: “Rachel, how could I respect anyone who didn’t disapprove of me?”  Rachel Wallace shows up briefly in later books as an valuable ally and friend to Spenser.

The character, Spenser, though masculine to the max, is likable, lovable and heroic – a life well-written.

Robert B. Parker’s other mysteries include the Jesse Stone series and the Sunny Randall series. I now plan to go back and read both of those series in chronological order as well. Character evolution through the progression of these series is part of the pleasure.

Robert B. Parker died of a heart-attack at the age 77, while writing at his desk – surely the most heroic kind of exit any writer would hope for.

If you are a Robert B. Parker fan (or even if you’re not), I highly recommend reading the touching, eloquent eulogy by his son, David, which was reprinted in its entirety in The Washington Post.

Memorable Hermit Georgia O’Keeffe: “…No One to Satisfy Except Myself.”

Georgia O’Keeffe in Abiquiu, New Mexico, photographed by Carl Van Vechten, August 16, 1950

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The Lifetime Channel recently aired a made-for-TV movie entitled Georgia O’Keeffe starring Joan Allen and Jeremy Irons. In spite of excellent acting, the movie was a big disappointment to me* [see footnote], focusing primarily on O’Keeffe’s turbulent love affair with New York photographer Alfred Stieglitz (played by Irons), her ultimate marriage to him and her [...]

Friendship Is Always an Imperfect, Unfinished Poem

I sent a crude first draft of the following poem to my friend, Kathy Kimball, last week for her something-or-othert birthday. My intentions were good, but (as usual) I lost track of time and I decided hitting her birthday was more important than any undone refinements. Kathy’s one of those friends who honors my crudest drafts as if they are gold. Friends like Kathy are the gold.

The poem’s still imperfect and will remain so eternally – unfinished like life and good friendships. But posting the poem allows me to sneak in another opportunity to pressure Kathy into reevaluating her schedule.

Friendship never really fits
Inside a purchased card.
Cards may brush the truth
With quips and clever punch
But cards’ unexpanded tales
Miss friendship’s mortal soul -
The bond beyond the quip,
Unique between two friends.

She’s short and voluptuous
To my tall and not very
And we both love our walks
In nature and not
So we value our knees and our legs.
But when walking as two,
Her innate shorter stride
Hurries quick-time to mine.
Though she never falls back
And not once has complained
Burns more calories perhaps
Something always worthwhile
For carrot cake fests
And sticky bun loves
Dependent on chocolate
For solace.
When walking and laughing,
And walking and crying,
And walking and laughing again.

We first walked as neighbors
Near daily patrol
The banks of Shilshole Bay
A life aboard sailboats,
Sailors soldiering through
Feisty elements marine
On long laundry hauls
And facility showers.
Jelling friendship with
Walking and laughing
And walking and crying
And walking and laughing again.

How perplexed we could be
Over confounding, alien ways
Of our logical, linear men
Who’d unwittingly retreat
To their logical lines
And offer them up to us mates
Who most needed their hugs
And not logic, of course.
So as friends we would hug
In sorry console,
Sharing a bottle of wine or two,
A fine mug of grog and a dinghy ride.
“What do you do
with a drunken sailor?”
You laugh,
You laugh,
You cry from time to time
And then you laugh again.

Both loved as children,
A particular cross
In this culture of the good excuse.
But our fine childhoods’ grew,
Another bond from our roots
Common libraries of family songs,
Old tunes and carols
Serendipitously sprout out
In spontaneous duets
On some of our walks -
Surprising each other
And any audience about
(‘Cause we’re not very good).
But granting to us
Another reason to laugh,
Walking and laughing,
And walking and singing,
And crying from time to time,
And walking and laughing again.

But have I told her often or lately
How much I admire
Her grit and resilience
Through passionate loves
And deep, deep loss.
Her ceaseless momentum,
Education devotion.
(She taught on her knees once
In pain’s compensation.)

How appreciative I am,
That she scours her schedule
Fitting adventures with me in the mix
Sidelining striving enough
So I’m privileged to be
With this woman at rest,
In her natural state
Doing goofy and giggly
Like they matter most.

Not enough time for herself,
Her life’s tightly-packed,
Bulky, day-timer ruled,
Which is baffling to
Someone like me
Who does time at arms length
Keeping calendars blank,
Clocks often unwatched,
Something baffling to her
I know.

She endures all my jibes
When I tease about stress
And she rarely jibes me back.
But it’s with affection deep-felt
I remind her again:
“That third chapter starts NOW
Retire and paint.
Let the goof rule your day.
Every day.”

No longer neighbors,
Our circles disparate
An hour or more apart
Our bond never hits that
Old, always-there thing.
But we both know it could
And without pause it would
If the need ever surfaced again.

So now, frequently weeks,
And often some months,
And one time even some years
Vanish between our meets
But we jump right back in
Where we last left off,
The dialog never ends.
For now when we walk,
Our good union includes
This long tale to review,
Depth-filled with laughter and tears
Where fears of the world,
And aging and change,
Are allayed by the joys
Of true wisdom and worth
Of fine transits well made.
Walking and laughing,
And walking and laughing,
And walking and crying at times,
And returning to laughter again.

A Peculiar Being Reacts to Dating Hysteria

I came across this poem in my archives the other day, so in honor of Poetry Month (and a quick post): In haphazard desperation This continued search for love Skirts simplicity for complication. Unheralded and quiet truth – above All rewards those cherished others may impart, Award yourself your loving heart. Invaluable, illusive art, But valid joy’s innate [...]

The Un-Vows: Put Two Smarties Under One Roof and Sometimes "There Will Be Blood"

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Griz and I have been married for 27 years. This week we sort-of celebrated with a dinner out. But the truth be known, the celebration was coincidental to our anniversary date. We were in the mood for a dinner out, and – behold – it happened to be our anniversary. More often we celebrate our first date  – [...]

Blog Stall and Talking About Religion or Not

…when thou prayest, enter into thy closet.. (Matthew 6:6)

Unfortunately, blogs are the antithesis of closets.

This post is an experiment in exposure. Sometime early last month before weather (the conversational safety net) began to predominate my psyche and blog, I was going to add a couple of Most Memorable Hermits to my list, but I kept procrastinating because both are spiritual teachers and I have some fairly deep-seated inhibitions over “talking about religion.”  It is so easy to offend.

Now that I no longer have weather to hide behind, I’m stalled out again, so I’ve decided to just blat out some of my own beliefs first (to put what I say about the two hermits in context). I’ll then add the two hermits in rapid succession and see what happens.

Perhaps those I offend will forgive me.  Linear time is a bit illusory in the blogosphere, but perhaps by Sunday I’ll have deleted the posts, acquired a pseudonym, stopped blogging all together, or been struck down by lightning. Here goes:

I believe in an immanent and transcendent Divine Creative Field – universal consciousness, oneness, allness, some sort of divine essence – call it God if you want, I usually do not though I am not put off when others do.

I DO NOT believe in a pathologically megalomaniacal, vengeful bearded white dude sitting on a throne somewhere passing judgment on the behavior of humans and punishing any that don’t conform to his dictates.

Although I believe there are threads of positive, universal moral, ethical and spiritual truths to be found in the writings of all of Earth’s major religions, I DO NOT BELIEVE any one religion’s “Word of God” is more accurate than any other. I consider words themselves human constructs – when translated and politically redefined through generations of evolving circumstances, written works have been known to stray from the original – occasionally missing the author/speaker’s original intent completely.

I believe this Divine Creative Field is accessible to each one of us with or without religious hierarchy, ritual or dogma.

I believe in the eternal continuity of spirit (though not necessarily the continuance of individual identity). Spirit to me is energy – divine energy, the essence of creativity, peace, unconditional love, compassion and forgiveness – that which motivates us to transcend our animalistic instincts and be more  – call it a Soul if you want, I usually do not, though I am not put off when others do.

I believe in the power of forgiveness, love and compassion for ourselves and all others as the best path to understanding and transcending the way things have been, accepting the way things are and improving the way things will be.

I believe we all come into the world truly innocent (even the bad guys) – each and every one a perfect creation of the divine field – and after we get here, things go to hell or heaven, or any combination thereof, both of which exist, are accessible, and can be experienced and seen right here on Earth – no separate PLACES to go to.

I believe life is a learning opportunity for each of us. An opportunity in which we can choose to express the divine rather than the animalistic. Our individual responsibility for making those choices, every day, makes every day judgment day. To me, Immanent Divinity essentially means  “You are God.”  That  makes each of us eternally responsible – Karma by any other name.

I believe in the enormous power and potential of the intellect, reason and science. I also believe the intellect (and thus reason and science) can be inherently limited by (often unacknowledged) subjectivities. I support organizations such as The Institute of Noetic Sciences which attempt to integrate and bridge the gap between science and spirituality.

I believe no human, not scientist or religious leader, knows the absolute truth about what happens to us when we die. The ultimate commonality among all humans is we don’t get to find out that particular answer until we die ourselves. Since I believe there is some continuity of consciousness, I personally like to think the first thing that happens at death is we relax and have a good laugh – laugh at all the silly hoo-hah in which we were over-invested while alive. I look at death as an opportunity for an adventure of discovery. Of course, I don’t know anything for sure, so I acknowledge the possibilility that death is an absolute end – but if that is true, there’s still nothing to fear because there will be no way to mind being dead.

I think very few us get to feel like we got everything done before the moment of our death arrives. Therefore, I believe it is extremely important to express love, compassion and forgiveness right now – even before you get all that other stuff done.

I believe evolution is an vital element of creation.

I believe in the ultimate beauty and awesome power of nature which reminds us to practice humility and provides us with life’s playfield upon which we are granted the opportunity learn to do better.

I believe in inclusivity not exclusivity.

I believe in some universal and eternal connectedness of consciousness, including the extension of this connection beyond mortality of the individual. I believe this connectedness of consciousness is sometimes accessible to each of us and may account for many “unscientific” human psychic phenomena (PSI).

My belief in this universal connectedness includes some confidence in the concept of reincarnation – wherein one’s divine essence chooses to serially manifest as specific life forms within particular life circumstances to best address individual or collective karmic resolution and to grow spiritually. I tend to believe we incarnate and bond in groups (switching roles and relationships like playing different parts in a play). For me, this particular quirk of magical thinking empowers me to conquer grief over the loss of loved ones and forgive those who choose to play bad guys (whether they do it through ignorance, childhood programming, psychological deficit or simply to provide invaluable though uncomfortable lessons for the rest of us).

I believe animals are a part of this universal divine connectedness. I believe most animals are fully capable of experiencing and expressing emotions, including but not limited to love.

I practice meditation with some regularity.

I devote about 20 percent of my available reading hours to the investigation of spiritual and philosophical concepts.

I’m a pro-choice, feminist. (Ouch, that oughta alienate a few followers.) This, of course, excludes me from membership in most (though not all) religious organizations. However, if I was a joiner, I suppose I’d be a Taoist or a Unitarian, but I’m not a joiner. Although I understand and appreciate the value of fellowship and communion, my hermit nature resists participating.

I try to honor those threads of positivity common among the world’s major religions. I try to forgive those negative aberrations which recur so loudly when religions are used as tools of political power – locally, regionally, nationally or globally. I believe manipulative and oppressive regimes (religious or otherwise) are expressions of animalistic territoriality and have no relationship to divinity. I try not to judge others by their religious affiliations. I try not to judge entire religions by the bad behavior of a few loud fanatics within each fold.

I feel extremely fortunate to have been born into and reside in a society which actually values and legislates freedom of religion (though not freedom from religion). The discourse that results from the cultivation of this freedom aggravates me from time to time, and at other times seems just silly – but it is a variety of discourse that we should all prize – the option isn’t even available to much of the world’s population.

That’s the basics. I spilled out a lot more than I thought I would. Forgive me, if you can. If not, may you find peace within your system of belief.

Memorable Hermit: Dirty Sally Fergus Played By Jeanette Nolan

Jeanette Nolan, age 32

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During one of his long programming phases, Griz routinely followed daytime reruns of the Gunsmoke TV series as background noise. I didn’t actually sit down and watch many episodes and there are a lot of episodes (635). The original series ran for 20 years before cancellation in 1975. Broadcast at one episode per day in reruns, that’s [...]

Definitely Keeping Low Profiles: Two 19th Century Female Hermits

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Here’s two short, telling articles from The New York Times archives. This one was published July 12, 1880: Other than being a reclusive hermit, we don’t really get any explanation of why Julia’s considered a “peculiar being.” That was probably peculiar enough. “Why she chose a hermit’s life is not known?” If my only available means of support were servant (unmarried), servant [...]