JM, Ojai Lavender Harvest, 6.28.08
lame it partially on Aldine Books. Aldine Books, I found out last week, moved June 15 after about twenty years in the old familiar location. In characteristic Aldine fashion, they left up an illegible map to the new location. I found it anyway. The new location is one block east of Laveta Terrace on Sunset, in a strip mall on the south side of the street. I needed a Fitzgerald Odyssey to continue editing my novel. They haven't unpacked all the books yet at the new location; in fact, they haven't officially opened. There was no Fitzgerald Odyssey. g Whoops: twenty minutes later, yes there was, sparing me some library time. g I've also been recently acquainted with a valuable companion to the Fitzgerald Odyssey: Ralph Hexter's A Guide to The Odyssey, which is specifically about the Fitzgerald translation. g The introduction is filled with useful comparative lit notes: for instance, did you know Virgil dissed Odysseus at every turn in order to bolster the myth of Trojans founding Rome? Did you know that Dante taps Virgil to do the navigating through the Divina Comedia to inspire the same anti-Greek sentiment? Did you know gender issues in Ancient Greece were discussed within the context of disputes among the gods? Did you know (by Hexter's estimate anyway) you can read Homer after studying Greek for a scant year? Have you ever realized that majuscules, a calligraphic feature of illuminated manuscripts, were also included in the first moveable-type printed books, drawn and filled in later? You probably did; all new awarenesses to me, even at age fifty-one with half a lifetime of appreciation of Homer and also of typography behind me. g Majuscules? Large capital letters; one was first used here, ironically, May 12, in my first contemplation of this summer's reading; my own set incorporates my photo of the Shakespeare Bridge. g Hexter is currently the president of Hampshire College; his book is from 1993. He only met Fitzgerald once; I have known some others who had him at Harvard. g Fitzgerald's translation is an acknowledged high-water mark; I'm referring to it constantly as the final arbiter of poetic licensing to my own novel, which takes its title from a phrase in the Fitzgerald; the phrase in question occurs exactly once in The Iliad and The Odyssey. g Hexter is also certainly the first gay-married president of an American college; a fact that pleases me, as I am also drawing much gender studies and queer theory grist from French Theory; lesbianism especially is a large part of my book. g So much for my earlier summer reading list; yes, French Theory is still critical to it and I am over halfway through now, but while in the editing mode, I'm obliged to revisit Fitzgerald and Durrell, with Hexter as Virgil to Fitzgerald. g At any rate, today was the bad day that followed some decent ones. The key decent one was Saturday, when we drove out to Ojai and harvested some lavender. g The bad one today: well, there was much I don't want to get into, as editing the novel occasionally makes me seethe. But also, I went to the Riverside Pool for the first time this summer and found that I barely fit into my swim trunks, which were acquired late last summer when I was at my thinnest weight since turning forty. Swam twelve short laps and was tired. What the hell's going on? g The only scale I trust in the world is at the Downtown Y, and as soon as I got on it I found I weighed διακόσια δεκατέσσερα και μισό. This after two weeks of no alcohol, a trick that ordinarily drops weight for me instantly. Loved the water but disapproved of me. I plan to do more summer scale reading as well.,
