§ Happy Spring, officially. Why doesn’t this align with the beginning of daylight savings time?
§ Right on cue, I spotted my first crocus sprouting out of a neighbor’s tree lawn during a walk around the neighborhood last Sunday. Still no sign of any daffodils.
§ Another early indicator at Spring is temporary mass hysteria in the local robin population. One flew directly into our living room window as I was drinking my morning coffee.
By all indications, aggressively attacking windows is a common behavior during their early spring breeding season. They can get confused by their own reflection in the glass, thinking it’s an avian interloper. Hormones, huh?
§ Speaking of birds, Christopher Brown’s newsletter recently introduced me to the fact that Grackles came to North America by way of Moctezuma’s uncle who imported them to Tenochtitlán from the tropical lowlands of South America 500 years ago.
They are now frequent, striking, and strangely somewhat ominous presence in my yard each summer.
§ I just found out that my neighbor—someone my wife and I called “the knife man” on account of the fact that he always carried a six-inch knife on a belt holster whenever he went out to walk his Shih Tzu—is moving.
Who will be the standout neighborhood character now? The still-unknown neighbor that stuck an oddly phallic foxtail amaranth into one of our flower pots under the cover of night last summer? The older woman who delicately wraps a clear plastic bag around the head of her decorative goose statue each winter?
§ I’m a bit more than a third of the way though Brother Brontë and it has finally found its rhythm.
I was on the fence about it last week, but as I continued reading, it became clear that the strange dialog that was throwing me off has an in-universe explanation.
Overall, it is bizarre, evocative, memorable, and occasionally inspiring. I recommend it.
Part one is an irreverent, surreal, creative slurry. I still feel good about my description last week calling it a “fusion of Gabriel García Márquez with Ed, Edd n Eddy.” Right when everything starts to feel just a little too weird, part two arrives and suddenly flips everything on its head. The whole book becomes earnest and hopeful. A perfect counterbalance.
I’m looking forward to seeing what the third and final part brings.
§ A taste:
Mostly, she typed nonsense: Jazzmin Monelle had taught herself the art of letting go beyond a narrative and characters, even beyond cohesive language, before conjuring a discernible idea for a story. She switched the meanings of Spanish and English words for fun.
[…]
In the middle of writing an intense scene, a young boy stuck his head in amidst the loud typing and asked,
“What happens here?”
Jazzmin Monelle halted her typing, looked the boy in the eye, and said,
”Life and death and the womb of the universe happen here, young man.”
Life and death and the womb of the universe.
§ It has been a while, but I am still duty-bound to inform you that there is a new Longmont Potion Castle album out. It’s great, of course.
§ I haven’t watched the Severance finale yet but fear not, I certainly watched TV.
Adolescence seemed to come out of nowhere and was really interesting. It’s basically a bog-standard Netflix murder mystery with a unique affectation: each hour-long episode was filmed in a single take—no cuts. It took me a while to stop noticing it, wondering how the showrunners handled the logistics, and feeling second-hand stress on behalf of the actors, etc.
Once I finally stopped noticing it, though, I think it actually fits the genre well. Being able to gradually discover and process each new piece of information in real time alongside the characters added some realism to what could have otherwise been a contrived story.
The third episode, in particular, was a triumph. Two characters, one room, one shot, and I was completely transfixed for the entire 53 minutes.
§ I took off work next Monday and Tuesday. I’m looking forward to a tiny four-day weekend spring break.
§ There is snow in the forecast, of course.
