Respite

I am reading this wonderful book of short stories by Wendell Berry.  His characters are country people, taciturn and self-contained.  Having plenty of time alone, with space and inclination, his characters develop something I can only think of or describe as gravitas.

It’s not that they are iconic or idiot symbols.  They are fully realized human beings who have the ability to reflect.  They reflect on themselves and on each other.  Mr. Berry tends to them as they do to their crops and animals.

I became very quiet as I read this little book.  I am in a lot of pain and so am kind of spending a lot of time in bed or in a chair.

I came downstairs last night to watch the news.  My mistake.  There was our President Elect chattering and clattering and doing his hocus pocus.  He is the antithesis (I didn’t say anti-Christ) of quiet reflection.  He is a billboard of a man.

Over the weekend I heard a journalist on a panel refer to him as a magician and oh I think that’s so spot-on.  He practices the black arts, swirling up distractions, non-sequiturs, covering his hat with a cape so you don’t see the rabbit under the table.  He is a trickster.

For folks who see him as simply unschooled in the political arts, I would have you pay more attention to what’s going on under the table, and less to his  legerdemain.

Back to Wendell Berry…