Sunday Sundries, 277

1: HBsOTW: Those who are still being careful--practicing social distancing and wearing masks in places where other people are. I was amazed yesterday at the local grocery store (we were waiting in our car for our pick-up delivery) to see swarms of people who must believe the virus is gone and/or they are immune and/or immortal--and who don't really care if they sicken others.

2. I finished two books this week.

     - The first was Little Women (1868-69), a novel I've heard about all my life but, until now, have never read. I decided to after we saw the 2019 film (which we both really liked), and so I pulled off the shelf an old paperback (see below) that Joyce had read previously, and I got to enjoy not only Alcott's story but seeing Joyce's comments in the margins, seeing what she'd underlined. I loved it--very moving.

I read portions of this book at night (in bed) over a few months (hey, it ain't short!), and I really had a good time--and was surprised at how closely the recent film followed the arc of the book.

I guess, at its core, it's a book about hopes and dreams--and about making graceful adjustments when it's clear that those dreams are not going to come true. In other words, it's about us. All of us, throughout our lives, must learn to accept who and what we are--and what we're capable of (and not). It's not usually very easy, is it? (It wasn't for me.)

Yes, there is some goo in the book (the Marches are a magical family beyond belief in some very human ways), but for the most part it is what I've said, I think--a powerful story about dreams--and adjustments--and acceptance. And, as in every truly human story, we see the presence--and the effects--of love, of death, of grief, of loss, of disappointment, of ...

     - The second book I finished was the final Ian McEwan novel I'd never read--The Children Act (2014). The title comes from an act of Parliament in 1989. McEwan focuses on a woman judge--a high-ranking, respected judge--who deals with family court issues.

She has problems of her own--most prominently, a husband frustrated by her loss of interest in intimacy and sex. He decides to do something about it.

But the legal case that dominates the novel concerns a 17-year-old boy/man, who is dying of leukemia and whose family refuses to permit a potentially life-saving blood transfusion: They are Jehovah's Witnesses and believe such procedures are abhorred by God. The young man himself is very devout--and very bright--and would rather die than pollute his body.

Fiona (the judge) goes to visit Adam (the young man) in the hospital before issuing her decision in the case.

And from then on, the plot takes some surprising twists.

My heart went pitter-patter, by the way, when she and the young man talk about--and sing--"Down by the Salley Gardens," the poem/song by W. B. Yeats (one that I have memorized). (Link to the poem.)

I did a swift Facebook post about the book last week, and our friend Chris messaged me to let me know there was a very fine 2017 film based on the book (directed by Richard Eyre, screenplay by McEwan himself)--and starring Emma Thompson (judge) and Stanley Tucci (husband).

We streamed (via Amazon Prime) the first half of it last night--and Chris was right (as usual): a powerful film--very close to the novel. (Link to film trailer.)

3. Books on my nightstand right now (I read a bit in each pretty much every night before Streaming Time arrives):

• Wilkie Collins: "I Say No" (1882)
• Hilary Mantel: The Mirror and the Light (2020)--3rd volume in her award-winning series about Thomas Cromwell and Henry VIII
• Amy Rose Capetta & Cori McCarthy (the latter attended the Aurora Schools, where I taught for 30 years--did get to have Cori ... sigh): The Sword in the Stars (2020)--the 2nd in their YA series about King Arthur, Merlin, et al., mixed with the authors' love of Star Wars, Tolkien, and others
• Stacey O'Brien: Wesley the Owl (2008)
• Val McDermid: Beneath the Bleeding (2007)--part of her Tony Hill/Carol Jordan series--via Kindle
• Richard Hughes: A High Wind in Jamaica (1929--via Kindle)
• Ken Bruen: Taming the Alien (2000)--via Kindle

4. My hair and beard are getting ridiculous. I would post a pic--but I don't wish to frighten anyone to death. I look like some deranged old guy who wandered out of the woods after having been lost for twenty years: think: Rip Van Winkle.

5. Something I learned in Wesley the Owl (see list above): barn owls don't have great eyesight--but great hearing. They dine almost exclusively on mice, and at night they can hear a mouse's heartbeat.

6. Final Word: A word I liked this week from one of my various online word-of-the-day providers:

     - from The Oxford English Dictionary--not a phrase I've encountered very much lately--though I long ago learned it (and don't remember how/why)

Peck's bad boy, n. (and adj.)

An unruly or mischievous child; (hence) a man who does not conform to expected or approved standards of conduct. (Also attributive or as adj.)

Etymology: < Peck's bad boy, the name of a mischievous fictional character created by George Wilbur Peck (1840–1916) for a serial in his newspaper Peck's Sun (Milwaukee, Wisconsin), which was first published in book form in 1883.

U.S. slang.

1883   Peck's Sun 14 July 1/6   The [cuff] buttons are..gold..and on the back they are engraved ‘Geo. W. Peck, Milwaukee, from his newsboy friends of Chicago’, and on top of the Russia leather case are the words, ‘From Peck's Bad Boys’.

1933   E. O'Neill Ah, Wilderness! i. 19   Sid Davis..is..short and fat, bald-headed, with the Puckish face of a Peck's Bad Boy who has never grown up.

1970   Time 22 June 78/2   The book is an earnest effort by Della Femina to buttress his reputation as the Peck's Bad Boy of Advertising.

2003   N.Y. Post (Nexis) 6 May 54   He visibly delights in a ‘Peck's Bad Boy’ image.