RIP Doris Lessing (1919-2013)

Doris Lessing was arguably the greatest author of the 20th Century.  I know Many of you will disagree, but if so: go now and read The Golden Notebook and the Martha Quest series, stack it up against anything else written in the 60s-80s, and tell me if you can honestly say it's better.  Yes, I am totally serious.

I found The Golden Notebook by accident in a bookstore at age 20-21.  As so many people, I had never heard of her, because she never ended up on any syllabi.  You who are reading this, even though she won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2007 may never have heard of her.  That's because she was unclassifiable.  No matter what box someone tried to fit her into, like the Houdini of literature, she'd find a way out.

She particularly hated the ghetto term "feminist author."  Why do I say ghetto term?  Well, think of it, especially if you are a male human being reading this right now, if you hear the phrase "feminist author" are you running out to buy her work?  No, I didn't think so.  Also, would you guess, because of that label, that she deals equally with issues of world politics, especially war, communism, Africa, England, Big Ideas, Experimentation with Form, etc…all the subject areas of the Angry Young Men of her generation?  No, you wouldn't.  You'd have images of nice middle class women chatting about their wombs or something.

That's why she hated the term.  Because she was A Writer who Was Also a Woman (heaven Forfend). Yes, her writing had feminist implications, if by feminist you mean, a naked (in every way) female voice not intimidated by anyone (including so-called feminist)'s idea of what she Should Feel, Say, Think, Care About, etc.

As a young woman who happened upon her Golden Notebook, she changed my life.  Here was a Voice, a Female Voice, whispering to me in words in a fragmented structure, evoking feelings, sensations, suspicions, Ideas, arguments, insecurities, rages, dreams, aspirations, daring, wisdom…all from a protean, flawed, human, female protagonist that I could begin to understand - because she was Not boxed into the categories reserved - even in the mid-80s - for the derogatory, second class label: Female.

She is also, as anyone following this blog will know, in the generation of my grandmothers, about whom I am writing.  They were born in 1916, she in 1919 - close enough.  Also children of violence (as Ms. Lessing called her generation - children of the wreckage of the First World War), though American.  Only one of whom attempted an escape as daring as Ms. Lessing's, who unfortunately did not start out as early or as successfully or living as long.  But she did dare.

I encourage anyone reading this post to read any and all work of Doris Lessing.  If you want to begin to understand the great breadth and depth of the greatest conflicts in the 20th Century (especially as regards Europe, Africa and the Middle East), you must.

Don't let ornery (usually male) critics tell you she can't write or she writes too much or whatever.  They Are Wrong.  That's all there is to it.  Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.  She writes in a way that allows her to say what she needs to say and how she needs to say it.  If there were no Doris Lessing, there would be no room in publishing/media for Lena Dunham or Mary Karr or Joan Didion or Margaret Atwood…the list of her descendants is long…So, respect.  A life well lived for which we are all better off because she so lived it.

Life is full to bursting...

I haven't written here for a while because the editing job I mentioned in last post takes up a huge portion of my time and John, my beloved Canadian husband, is here for an extended visit so it's all life all the time.  Oh and I'm still teaching.

So, just a few things to say I'm alive:

Grateful beyond measure for my new, rigorous yoga practice at KeshavaRadha yoga.  Without it, I doubt I'd be standing.

So incredibly grateful for John being here and being so incredibly helpful with everything.  I have never been with someone so extraordinarily loving and attentive.  I have to be careful even so because I forget I have to just focus on my work and can't be attempting to take care of him right now, too.  But that's hard.  Not because of John, I hasten to add, but because of pressure I put on myself.  However, because John is here, he gives me: back rubs, dinner, coffee in bed, a sympathetic ear and relief from endless household tasks and sweet relief from the anxiety of my true love's absence.

We're getting through the bumpy bits and it's just wonderful to know he's here for a while.  Visa process still pending but on its way.  I've never felt so comfortable with another human being, so it's easy to forget sometimes how new this situation is.  Wouldn't trade it for anything!

Some things I'm also grateful for: that we in NYC voted for Bill de Blasio for Mayor.  Hopefully that signals some positive change in the city. My Fordham students' writing is getting better.  This delights me.

Sad about the passing of Lou Reed, stunned by beauty of Laurie Anderson's farewell to him (if you haven't read it, do - it's in new issue of Rolling Stone and online).  So glad these days to hear of true love and people who can even hold one another in the face of mortality.

Don't have more to say right now.  Life is life.  Life is love.  Breathing is good for the soul.  True love is also good for the soul and being able to live for a while with my true love is even better!