Reading Garp, finally, and celebrating Jean-Marc
So the orange blowhole actually managed a civilized conversation today with our prime minister, while all around him, his band of incompetent fascists are tearing civilization apart. So proud of Canada — just watched Manitoba Premier Wab Kinew chant an Indigenous song for the father of Ashlee Shingoose, whose murdered body was recently found. Read that three prominent American scholars are leaving Yale for the University of Toronto; one, Jason Stanley, who studies fascism, said, “The U.S. is turning into an authoritarian country, and it’s targeting Canada. Canada is standing up for the Canadian values of freedom, freedom of inquiry, of tolerance and equality.”
We’re privileged to welcome these brilliant American academics. And more will come. Exiles from their own country, as was my American father in 1950.
On the other hand, my daughter is distraught about her sons’ school, which has cut out the snack that used to be given to the children during the day; the hot lunch provided to some now needs a voucher. We may value freedom, but our provincial government does not value the education of schoolchildren or care about their hunger. Shame!
Okay, a story to lift my spirits: Last night I was invited to dinner with John Irving and his wife Janet. As you might know, John and I got stuck at the airport in Mexico City, our flight to Toronto cancelled after the plane crash at Pearson. John was sick, and although we hadn’t met before, I did my best to look after him for the two days we were there. I wasn’t expecting further contact, but John got in touch and wanted me to meet Janet.
She was his Canadian publisher and is now his agent and first reader. She’s beautiful, warm, lively – and what joy, loves Paul McCartney and the theatre, two of my own great loves. The three of us are aligned politically and it seems in just about every other way. Vivid conversation, over a bit too much pinot noir.
I confessed to John I’m perhaps the only person in the western world who had not read a single one of his many books, because I read almost entirely nonfiction. But I’ve just devoured Garp. I loved it. I told him it’s like getting on a train hurtling forward — powerful, confident writing, rich characters, humour, tragedy. He was far ahead of his time — the book was published in 1976! — in bringing to life a trans woman, Roberta, a former star football player, the most sympathetic character in the book.
He gave me a gift — Trying to Save Piggy Sneed, his only memoir writing, with a dedication: “To Beth Kaplan, who saved me in Mexico City, with my gratitude.” Oh my.
He’s a generous man and an extraordinary craftsman; no wonder he’s one of the best-known fiction writers in the world. And very disciplined, I gather — even now, a fit 82, he writes seven days a week.
Puts me to shame. I haven’t written for actual publication in months. But I did post a Substack essay the other day about my neighbour Jean-Marc, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. He’s moved and thrilled by the piece, sent it to his family who are sending it further afield, as is his partner’s family. My writer self was able to give a gift to this fine man. Means a lot. We need to celebrate kindness and generosity wherever we find it — now more than ever.
https://touchpointsawriterstruth.substack.com/p/putting-your-core-values-to-work
The post Reading Garp, finally, and celebrating Jean-Marc appeared first on Beth Kaplan.
