Poor Banished Children of Eve

 

It is the dusky shadows of an ancient September.  My grandmother sits on the porch of her house, reciting the rosary in monotonous, sepia tones:

“Hail Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope.  To thee we cry, poor banished children of Eve…”

I was often pulled into this ritual.  She would hand me one of her spare strings of beads, and I would take my seat in the autumnal twilight, sinking into the recitation, the circular rhythm.  In the span of my childhood, I went from not understanding the words I breathed, to comprehending their significance, to finding them anachronistic.  Yet, there is a comfort in prayer, a reassuring spirit in following through:

“Glory be to the father, and to the son, and to the Holy Spirit.  As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen.”

Except worlds do end, and begin again.

My grandmother is gone.  The house is unrecognizable, altered by another owner.  And I am middle-aged.  The ritual remains lodged in the shrouds of memory.  Yet, it is once again September.  In September, we use to go to play at my grandmother’s house after school.  That, too, is a strand of memory broken.

Our rituals have all been broken.  This only adds to our feeling that the world has turned upside down.  We do not leave our homes now.  We avoid contact and protect ourselves.  My ritual is to rise in the morning, go to my desk, bring up a student’s face on my screen, and work with her for an hour on her essay.  Later, I will pull up another face to discuss her struggles in her classes, the learning strategies and work-arounds that will help her get back on track.

Despite all our devices, our methods of communication allowing one person to see another in pixels on a screen, we are lonely still.  It feels as if the world is ending, but as my friend, William Michaelian, wrote recently:

“The end of the world is a strange and beautiful place. It keeps growing, and it keeps ending. And as it ends, it gives birth to countless new beginnings.”

To do this, we may have to let go of cherished rituals:  family dinners, baseball games, the rhythms and milestones of the workweek, the long walk at twilight.  We must adapt and change our colors, and recognize that we see the world differently now, and there will be new rituals to embrace.  “And as it ends, it gives birth to countless new beginnings.”

I do not pray anymore.  Mumbling words without the strength of conviction is an exhausted ritual I can do without.  I love silence.  If she were still alive, I would gladly go sit on my grandmother’s porch with her.  I would tell her how the world has changed.  She would tell me the torch has been passed.  And then she would say her prayers while I take in the gloaming in silence, feeling the wind on my face.

I have been dreaming of her lately.  Or, I should say, in the dreams, she is dead as she is in real life, but I dream of her house.  I am there again.  The house is empty, but the same as when I last was there.  I am responsible for repairing and renovating it, for keeping it preserved.  There are the gardens, the fruit trees, the lawns, the two-story house itself.  I rise every morning at dawn to walk the property, a single house on three connected lots.  I water the vegetables and flowers, mow the grass, prune the trees and shrubs in season.  If there is something to repair, the materials appear, and I can put it right again.  There are no other people in this dream.  I am the sole survivor of some colossal ending.  It is strange and discomforting.  I do not leave the property, and a ten-foot wooden fence protects the place from intruders.  I can see only the sky above.  Nearby houses are shadowy and undefined.  What kind of dream is this?  Purgatory?  Heaven?  When does solitude become loneliness?

There is no one left to perform the ritual, no mumbled prayers to Mary, the Mother of God.  I am not interested in continuing the nightly prayer.  I am more interested in the Orthodox Jew, swaying back and forth in prayer.  I am more interested in the Buddhist, in the lotus position, humming, gone into another plane of existence.  I am interested in the Muslim, on his knees, facing Mecca, which may be a million miles away on the other side of the globe, yet he is tethered to it by a strong and indestructible fiber of the heart.  Finally, I am the one who spans the distance and lands somewhere between agnostic and atheist.  I know the world is a sacred place.  I know that divinity lives in all things.  And I know that we do not end.  We are transfigured at the moment of death—we become light and air.

So I am thinking of past Septembers.  We just observed Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, a moment we should all reflect upon, not just our friends in Judaism.  The world needs to recognize the pain and suffering we cause each other, the way we are hell-bent on destroying who we are and what we have built with our own hands as well as the pulsating Earth beneath us.

My grandmother, in an afterlife of her own construction, is probably sitting on her porch in some other unreachable dimension, mumbling her prayers and letting the beads slip over her fingers, keeping count of decades and prayers.  That is her path now.

I stay up late into the warm fall night, remembering all of it, the way we live, the poor banished children of Eve.

 

Let's Save Vroman's Bookstore

 

Vroman’s Bookstore in Pasadena, a cultural landmark in Los Angeles, is in trouble and needs help.  Founded 126 years ago, the bookstore remains the largest and oldest bookstore in southern California.  Sales during the pandemic have dropped forty percent, threatening the future of the enterprise.  Here is the message sent out today to customers:

Vroman’s has always had a truly special relationship with our customers. Today, we are asking for your help.

As you can imagine, the past few months have been the most difficult in our company’s 126-year history. Virtually every retailer—large and small—has struggled as never before. Our foot traffic and sales are improving, but still down almost 40%, which will not keep us in business. If Vroman’s is to survive, sales must increase significantly from now through the holidays.

We’re doing everything possible to provide the beautiful array of holiday merchandise you love and our holiday shop will soon be in place. We’re also working hard to expand our website and make more of our gift merchandise available for online purchasing and curbside pickup.

You, our valued customers, will make the difference as to whether we can continue in business.

In short, we’re asking our community to return to shopping at Vroman’s – whether online with delivery or curbside pick-up, or in-person safely in our stores.

• Shop online with curbside pickup or call us to place an order
• Return to shop in our stores with our new health and safety measures in place, understanding that capacity must be limited to ensure social distancing
• Shop in-store on weekday mornings, rather than busy weekends or afternoons 
• Shop early before the December holiday crowds – the stores will be far less crowded in October and November

We also need your help to get the word out. Please reach out to your friends and contacts to share the following messages:

• Vroman’s needs your support to stay in business
• Please shop now for books, gifts, and gift cards with Vroman’s and encourage your friends and associates to do the same
• Download these shareables and help spread the word! Use the hashtag #ShopVromans and post on your Facebook, Instagram and Twitter accounts. Don't forget to tag us! (Twitter: @vromans / Instagram: @vromansbookstore / Facebook: @vromansbookstore)

We first opened our doors in Pasadena in 1894, and we’re proud to play an important role in our community—as a place of gathering, culture, jobs, and, through our Vroman’s Gives Back program over the years have donated more than $750,000 to local charities. Our customers and community are at the heart of all we do.

There is no way we can adequately express to you our great appreciation for your loyalty and business. We are indebted to the many generations of customers who have made our 126-year legacy possible and we want to be here for you, for generations to come.

As we do all we can to ensure safety and convenience, we can’t wait to welcome you back. We truly appreciate your support during this critical time and always.

 

For a history of this great Los Angeles institution, here is an excerpt from their website:

Vroman’s Bookstore was founded in 1894 by Adam Clark Vroman. Born in 1856 in La Salle, Illinois, Mr. Vroman moved to Pasadena, California in the late 1800s hoping the weather would improve his wife Esther’s health. Sadly, Esther died two years later, and the brokenhearted Mr. Vroman sold his beloved book collection to raise the capital to open a bookstore.

Mr. Vroman loved books and loved giving back to his community. He helped to rescue some of the old Franciscan missions from decay, helped establish the Southwest Museum (now part of the Autry Museum), and he was a great supporter of the Pasadena Public Library. There’s even a story of him loaning money to a competitor, and helping him establish credit with vendors, so that the man could start his own bookstore.

Mr. Vroman was also a passionate photographer, specializing in scenes of the American West and his portraits of Native Americans, notable for the respect he showed the people. Ansel Adams called Mr. Vroman one of his influences, and Mr. Vroman’s work hangs in both the Huntington and the Southwest Museum.

When Mr. Vroman died in 1916, he left the bookstore to longtime employees, one of whom was the great grandfather of the current owner.

Vroman’s Bookstore holds an important place in Southern California’s history. For many years, Vroman’s was the largest bookstore west of the Mississippi, and it continues to be the oldest and largest independent bookstore in Southern California. During World War II, Vroman’s donated and delivered books to Japanese Americans interned at nearby camps, returning on several occasions despite being fired upon by camp guards.

Through the years, it has continued to be an independently owned family business, now consisting of two Vroman’s locations, two Vroman’s boutiques located at LAX airport, and an ecommerce site. In 2009, Vroman’s bought another beloved independent bookstore, Book Soup in West Hollywood, after its owner died and the store was in danger of closing.

Mr. Vroman's legacy of philanthropy continues into the present day. Throughout the years, the store has supported a variety of causes and institutions through food drives, holiday gift drives free hiv testing, bone marrow donor match drives, pet adoption days, mentoring and support for local girl scout troops, donations for charity raffles, school book fairs, and the Vroman's Gives Back program. Vroman's Gives Back is a charitable program that donates a portion of customers’ purchases to local nonprofits, including public radio stations, arts centers, family services, and programs supporting literacy, the homeless, and animal welfare. To date, Vroman's has donated over $765,513.59 on behalf of our customers.

 

Vroman’s is also famous for its world class author signings and events. The store hosts over 400 free community events a year including children’s storytimes, trivia nights, craft classes, bake-offs, and special launch parties, and has hosted such authors as President Bill Clinton, President Jimmy Carter, Irving Stone, Upton Sinclair, Ray Bradbury, David Sedaris, Salman Rushdie, Walter Mosely, Joan Didion, Barbara Walters, Anne Rice, Neil Gaiman, and Justice Sonia Sotomayor.

In 2008, Vroman's was honored with the Publishers Weekly Bookseller of the Year award. The annual award is chosen by a panel of industry professionals, and honors the very best bookstores in the country. Criteria for the award include clarity in mission and vision, expertise in buying for its target markets, innovation, successful events, and business efficiency. Vroman's has also been recognized throughout the years for our excellent customer service, our extraordinary staff, our extensive book inventory, and our wide range of gifts, ranging from stationery, cards, and fine writing instruments to jewelry, handmade gifts, fair trade merchandise, candles, purses, scarves, and much more!

Vroman’s is a Pasadena institution, a literary landmark, a community center, and a wonderful tradition. We hope you visit us soon!

 

Nicotine

 

Vroman’s Books in Pasadena, the oldest and largest independent bookstore in Los Angeles, hosted a discussion last Thursday night of The Nicotine Chronicles (Akashic Books, 2020), edited by Lee Child and featuring new work by David L. Ulin and Joyce Carol Oates.  All three writers were on hand for the discussion.  The book is part of a five-book set from Akashic Books on addictions.  Titles include The Cocaine Chronicles (2011), The Speed Chronicles (2011), The Heroin Chronicles (2013), and The Marijuana Chronicles (2013).

In his introduction to the book, Child writes that nicotine can be found in potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant, but one would need to eat an enormous amount of produce to reap the benefits of the drug.  The only delivery system that guarantees maximum bang for the buck is to inhale the smoke from burning tobacco leaves.  Do it that way, and the drug is flowing through the highways and byways of the body in ten seconds.  Nicotine improves fine motor skills, attention span, cognitive abilities, long and short-term memory, lessens depression, delays, or even prevents Alzheimer’s, and decreases the risk of developing Parkinson’s.

Child said he moves through his day in a cloud of marijuana and tobacco smoke and said Thursday night that he could not function without them.  For that reason, he wanted to edit this anthology.  The project excited him because he could draft an all-star team of writers to contribute.  David L. Ulin, who has edited several anthologies, said he liked editing anthologies because one did not have to come up with an entire book of original material.  It is a true group project.  Joyce Carol Oates talked about researching vaping and chose to write about the subculture of that controversial activity.  She has never inhaled a cigarette and is a confirmed running and fast-walking addict.  But she was fascinated by the subject nonetheless.

This series of five books is all about addictions.  Alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex, shopping, behaving recklessly—all are part of the human condition.  Child made that clear Thursday evening—“Marijuana is one of my necessary food groups,” he joked, and he was seconded by Ulin, who said Child was a “man after my own heart.”  For emphasis, Child stated that nicotine is ferociously addictive, and for him, to get the benefits, he had to accept the delivery system as part of the bargain.

Oates addressed her addiction to running and fast-walking.  Her day would not be complete without this exercise in her schedule.  Ulin is also a confirmed walker, usually in the mornings.  He bemoaned the recent fires around Los Angeles and the poor air quality, which prevented him from taking his morning stroll.  He has felt grumpy and out-of-sorts over the last few weeks as the fires raged out of control and the air was filled with chunks of ash.

Ulin told a story of going to a party when he and his wife first moved to Los Angeles.  Almost immediately, they realized they were not in the same “pay grade” as their fellow partiers.  His wife, a so-called “social smoker,” went to bum a cigarette from two women standing off by the pool smoking.  When she came back, Ulin noticed a look on her face.  When he asked what was up, she said the two women were Faye Dunaway and Jacqueline Bisset.  Child added that he has met many famous people when smoking, and he counts that as one of the perks.  Ulin went on to say that as a small child, he thought four things made a boy into a man, as he observed from his father:  shaving, driving, smoking, and reading.  He is no longer a smoker, but his life involves all of the other activities.

As for Child, his lesser vice includes coffee—in fact, he has two machines on his kitchen counter.  Without coffee, nicotine, and pot, he would not be able to function.  This has always been the case for him.  He started writing when he was out-of-work and needed to put food on the table.  He took matters into his own hands, sat down, and created the Jack Reacher series of novels, and from there, his career took off.  He attributes his success, in part, to his vices, and to paraphrase those philosophers, the Doobie Brothers, what were vices are now habits, deeply ingrained in how he works and moves through the day.

The trio discussed writing the stories in the collection, and the art of writing in general.  Ulin says he often focuses on a single scene.  He feels that is his métier, although he mainly writes nonfiction.  Oates sees the short story as a single moment in time.  They both hold up Hemingway as the model short story writer.  Sometimes an entire world can be illustrated in three pages; that is what Hemingway was good at, and what all other short fiction writers aspire to.  Oates said she recently taught Hemingway’s short story, “Indian Camp,” and thought it was the best of his short works.

It was an interesting and lively discussion, convenient because there was no traffic to fight to get there on time.  The event was recorded and can be accessed in replay.  Ultimately, this series of books centers on the fact that we all have addictions that get us through the day.  Rather than taking up smoking, one audience member suggested in the chat that maybe nicotine would go well in brownies.  Child responded that he would weigh 400 pounds if that were possible.

Nicotine’s delivery system is an unfortunate problem.  Until there is a quicker way to get it—an injection?—we will have to make do with eating more vegetables instead of burning tobacco leaves, unless we throw caution to the wind and give in to our addictions.