The Sacrament of Vulnerability
Saturday, January 17, 2009
At four a.m. reading Forrest Gander's As a Friend. Like Carole Maso's Ava only a harder strike against the heart. The brutality of it. A liar's life yielding the purest chords of truth. Fractures and fragments (for that is how this story is told—in fractures and fragments) suggesting the whole mesmerizing ruinous sack of the universe. "To be consequent to those around me." That's what the brilliant, profane hero of this story wants. To accept our own vulnerability. That's his prayer:
Maybe the best we can do is try to leave ourselves unprotected. To keep brushing off habits, how we see things and what we expect, as they crust around us. Brushing the green flies of the usual off the tablecloth. To pay attention.... To approach each other and the world with as much vulnerability as we can possibly sustain. To open out. With all our mind and body and imagination, to keep opening out.
Like I said. As a poet. As a friend.
3 comments:
Ohh...the character,Jack, in Home, by Marilyn Robinson, was so close to coming to this.
--
"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable." ~Madeleine L'Engle (a favorite quote of E's)
That's beautiful.
Sherry, one of my favorite books of all time is a Robinson—Housekeeping. I think she must have this idea in her head all the time while she is writing. And I love the L'Engle quote. Thank you.
Amy, this is a raw book, angry and beautiful at once. Utterly haunting.
Post a Comment