G&C Summer 2017
Blogpost 008
June 23rd
Glad Midsommer (Happy Midsummer)
If you’re a natural born American
(like myself) who has difficulty with the basic principle of geography as well
as knowing the names of more countries than the two boarding this one and some
others that were involved in WWII then you’ve probably never heard of Swedish
Midsommer; the Swedish holiday of celebration the summer solstice while
simultaneously drinking like it’s the end of days. Now as a natural born
American, how did I know that? Charlotte’s half Swedish, or a third Swedish,
her dad’s Swedish (sorta), it’s confusing but what I do know is that some part
of Charlotte’s genetic code comes from the Scandinavian land of Vikings, ABBA,
and economically friendly furniture you can assemble at home. Because of this
little/big heritage of my fiancé I’ve slowly been getting exposed to more and
more Swedish culture and today just so happened to be their big celebration
day.
I’ll
get into that momentarily but first, some notes on the day’s earlier events:
After breakfast we spent the morning one horseback (again) which involved a
wonderful loping ride through the scenic mountain countryside (again) and it
was beautiful and magical (you get the idea).
After
lunch, Charlotte and I retired to our cabin to relax in the early afternoon.
Chot worked on pinning insects she caught around the ranch while I finished the
first book of my summer reading list: Silence by Shūsaku Endō, which is
a marvelous work of fiction themes of self-reflection, doubt, suffering, and
philosophy centered around a young Portuguese missionary sent to 17th century
Japan in a time when Christianity was both illegal and brutally persecuted.
I’d
like to take a moment here to talk about the book in part because I’d consider
it to be one of the most well written pieces of fiction I’ve ever read, but
mostly because I’m still riding that I-just-finished-a-book high and I
want to geek out a little. Now before I geek, I should explain that I am not a
member of the Christian faith and while my family’s mostly Jewish (both parents
are half) religion was never an important part of my upbringing. I suppose my
parents wanted me and my sister to decide for ourselves what we wanted to
believe in. So we never went to church or temple, Christmas was a holiday of
family (and consumerism), and we’d only celebrate three-four nights of Chanukah
before we got bored of reciting the same prayer again and again (without even
knowing what the Hebrew words meant). Despite this near-abstinence of any
religious education it was impossible to not be exposed to it, for I was raised
in the American south where giant crucifixes on the side of the highway are
about as common as the golden arches for McDonalds. It was almost surreal
growing up in a society where every other person seemed to be apart of a global
club where everybody knew of the same guy and never understanding who the block
was and if he was a musician of some kind. Eventually I’d end up receiving a
degree in religious studies from my (and Charlotte’s) college of St.
Lawrence University along with my degree in Psychology. As one can
guess I’ve been very much intrigued by the subject of religion and the
psycho-sociological effects it has on it’s believers.
I
hope I’m not coming off as insensitive or patronizing. I genuinely do find all
religious fascinating and consider it to be an underutilized study of humanity.
I mean, most of the global populace is religious which I, and other religious
scholars consider it an unavoidable part of human evolution. I could honestly
go on and on, about the subject but for now I’ll just stick to the book. Silence
is a dark and depressing story (which is exactly how I like ‘em) which is
fitting for it’s feudal Japanese setting; a time depicted in many books and
film as being a downright miserable place for everyone except the ruling class.
Regardless of the subject or narrative, if a story takes place in a pre-modern
Japan then it’s a safe bet one of the key messages is, “everything sucks and
brutality is everywhere.” Silence paints a rough picture of life for the
Japanese, more specifically the secret Christians of the Japanese populace who
if discovered were subjected to what Endō describes as, “inglorious martyrdom.”
The book is rife with disturbing acts of cruelty but it’s with that cruelty
that brings to light the novel’s true beauty centered on the subject matter of
doubt. The novel’s protagonist is constantly bombarded with horror and
brutality that forces him to ask those deep philosophical questions we often
ask ourselves when the world is at it’s darkest and everything and everyone
seem to be out to get you; questions that are often hard to ask and even harder
to find answers too and for the most part these questions go completely
unanswered; there’s really no true morel or message spelt out for the reader
it’s completely open-ended. This can come across as difficult for many readers
but I appreciate literature that challenges the reader with uncomfortable,
complex ideas that leave you pondering your views on humanity, spirituality,
and one’s place in the universe. It’s an existential masterpiece and I can
totally see why Martin Scorsese spent the last two decades trying to adapt it
into film. I can’t wait to watch it with Charlotte when we get the chance.
The
ranch also held its weekly talent show where guests and ranchers are given the
open floor to dazzle the crowd with whatever act or performance of their
choice. In traditional Herbert fashion, Charlotte joined her mother and aunt
for a song and dance number that was goofy and light hearted. I was next in
line to perform though had absolute no preparation (I thought the talent show
was for the following day) but I still went up there and recited George
Carlin’s poem, “Modern Man,” which is a mouthful of word-play about the
needless complexities contemporary people absorb themselves with. I was shaking
the entire time and felt as if I spoke too fast but Charlotte seemed to enjoy
it and that’s all that really mattered to me. The other acts were as followed;
a younger guest strummed a ukulele and sang a popular soft-rock song, a friend
of Charlotte’s mother performed a magic coin trick, a rancher sang some country
songs on guitar, Charlotte’s dad and some friends performed a parody song of
Bon Jovi’s, and a couple of young teens read aloud a fan-fiction they wrote
about their horses falling in love.
To wrap up the ordeal Charlotte
wheeled out a makeshift micro-museum where she showcased the various insects
she caught throughout our stay at the ranch. On her cart was a pinning box (a
wooden box with foam in the base for which to present the dead yet perfectly
preserved exoskeletons of all manner of microscopic life. Also a part of Chot’s
display was a trio of plastic baggies containing the floating chitin bodies
she’d be pinning later and her baby; a Wild stereomicroscope with a jewel wasp
under the lens for curious guests to examine at their will. My fiancé pulled
this last year and it was met with overwhelming positivity. This year was no
exception, in fact guests from last year were expecting Charlotte’s traveling
insect show and new guests were just as curious to see what microscopic life
had been occupying the space around them for the last week.
Now,
on to midsummer; Charlotte has informed me that midsummer is never complete
without flower crowns, dancing around a maypole, singing song, eating pickled
herring, and downing LOTS of shots, mostly Aquavit. Charlotte’s parents and
Lisa put on a lovely party full of happy and well-fed guests and wranglers!
For
this year’s midsummer Charlotte spent a considerable amount of time laboriously
crafting flower crowns for the women and girls (none of which proved to be as
skilled or eager to help as she) while the ranch guests drank strong drink and
ate pickled herring (as is tradition). The celebration was mellow and contained
for there was still light in the sky and the real celebrating would unveil with
the light of the moon. Charlotte and I, in our traditional
anti-social/anti-hardcore partying fashion checked out before any of the
night’s intense partying but that’s weirdly how we like it.
More pictures to come....
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