Showing posts with label Zadie Smith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zadie Smith. Show all posts

Friday, September 11, 2020

Friday Reflect


 Generally on September 11th, I do a look back or salute to 9/11/2001 - certainly a day that changed our lives. Footage from that day still haunts. 

Now, 2020 is truly a year that is changing our lives forever. This is a pivotal year of ...something, anything. I don't know what - certainly above my pay grade. But definitely a year of defining what counts in our lives - health, family, friends, and life. 

Intimations by Zadie Smith is a small book - less than one hundred pages - full of short, timely essays that reflect these times. Ms. Smith is a talented deep writer and I've often had trouble with her novels. However, this book explores ideas, feelings, and questions prompted by the pandemic lock down. Submit to a new reality - or resist it? Time and work - the relationship? In our isolation, what do other people mean to us? This book clears a generous space for thought.  (cover blurb). 

Man, she made me think. And she made me say, "Damn, she really hit the nail on the head."

p. 17   Death comes to all - but in America it has long been considered reasonable to offer the best chance of delay to the highest bidder. 

p. 20  Out of an expanse of time, you carve a little area - that nobody asked you to carve - and you do "something".   Bake banana bread. Build a living room fort. Something to do. It fills the time. 

Zadie Smith wrote Intimations from her heart and soul.  It made me think, it made me nod, it made me say, "Damn."



Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Wonderful Wednesday

This Wednesday I bring you a quote from a very intriguing writer. I read this in Time Magazine 2/12/18 issue. 

Food for thought to fill this Wednesday.  It was provocative enough for a discussion with my writer friends at a Sunday gathering.  What do you think?

Zadie Smith, literary author, has a new collection of essays, Feel Free. In one essay she writes,

      When I find myself sitting at dinner next to someone who knows just as much about novels as I do but has somehow also found the mental space to adore and be knowledgeable about opera, have strong opinions about the relative rankings of Renaissance painters, and encyclopedic knowledge of the English Civil War, of French wines - I feel an anxiety that nudges beyond the envious into the existential. How did she find the time?

We all agreed that we've been there. We think we've read quite a bit, we can speak about quite a lot, and then we are flummoxed by that person who seems to know it all.......dang. 

Inferiority complex, heck yeah!

How about you?  Have you felt so smart, and then really dumb on occasion?