R.I.P. Rizzoli Bookstore

As the bibliophiles and New Yorkers among my readers might have heard, the city's iconic Rizzoli Bookstore is being evicted from its iconic Midtown premises, to be replaced by a luxury high-rise. Despite petitions and protests, this historic location was denied landmark status on a pure technicality; the bookstore is housed in what used to be a piano showroom, with vaulted ceilings and massive cast-iron chandeliers that make visitors feel as though they've stepped into the pages of history. (Appropriately, Rizzoli is known for its stock of art books.) Today was the store's last day in business, and it feels a bit like the end of an era.

There's been an outpouring of grief and outrage on the internet, unsurprisingly. One of the most moving  and articulate pieces about Rizzoli is this rather personal New Yorker article by Jon Michaud:

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/01/rizzoli-and-selling-books-to-madonna

It recalls an almost Gatsby-esque old New York, doesn't it? (And of course, the pictures are stunning.) I love the idea -- and it's more than a mere idea -- of a bookstore as the sort of village that raises exemplary young adults. It seems to be a recurring theme both in literature (Christopher Morley and, more recently, Robin Sloan come to mind) and in real life, and it saddens me to think that such an education might no longer be available to coming generations.

I will have more thoughts on this later, I'm sure. For now, though, allow me to wallow.

BBC: Royal Pardon for Alan Turing (Finally!)

Two days ago, fifty-nine years after he was driven to suicide by discrimination and the overwhelming solitude of misunderstanding, Alan Turing finally received a royal pardon for violating the so-called "gross indecency" laws of his time:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-25495315

Though his downfall was perhaps not as well-publicized and posthumously noted as that of Oscar Wilde in the century before his, it was no less a travesty for humanity. (And to think that society had not budged an inch on homosexuality between 1900 and 1954!) Turing was one of the finest cryptanalysts in history, as well as one of the founding fathers of modern computer science, and he was just forty-one years old when he died. One can't help but wonder what great and wonderful things he might have accomplished in his later years had he lived.

I am reminded, somewhat, of the story of Johnny Gunther, immortalized in his father's memoir Death Be Not Proud. Gunther was another extremely promising young man who died even younger, as a teenager, after a valiant struggle with brain cancer. Untimely "early" deaths, like those of Turing, Wilde, and Gunther seem especially tragic because of the injustice of the situation (particularly with Turing and Wilde, whose deaths were entirely preventable) and the abruptly curtailed possibilities of their later lives. Entirely due to human stupidity and prejudice, Turing was never afforded the opportunity to reach his full potential. I can only imagine, for a person brimming with ideas, curiosity, and the drive to contribute meaningfully to the sum of human knowledge, to hold in his hand the poisoned apple and think that such an exit was preferable to the future that lay before him...

The royal pardon is too little, too late, but at least some six decades later, we recognize and regret the human cruelty that hounded Alan Turing to his death, and move forward as a society with an awareness that we did not have before.

Cover-a-Week #27: "May It Be" by Enya, from The Lord of the Rings soundtrack

It's a week for mourning writers, so in honor of Tolkien's fortieth death-day, here's Enya's "May It Be" from the soundtrack of The Lord of the Rings:


http://youtu.be/juwu5tTC0hc

I maxed out the new microphone... again. (It's clearly the deadly combination of high notes, vibrato, and volume.) I tried putting a sweater over the mic -- perhaps next time, I should try sitting a bit farther back?

R.I.P Seamus Heaney

A literary luminary died today:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-13930435

I've owned a copy of Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf for as long as I can remember, and I've read it cover-to-cover at least three times. It's beautiful, and not just because the parallel text (with annotations!) indicates just how faithfully Heaney translated from the original Anglo-Saxon. Rather, given the cadence and word choice of his modern English, it becomes immediately evident that the translator is himself a poet.

Few poets have been as universally revered in their lifetimes as Heaney was. It has been said, even before today, that he was Yeats's successor as Ireland's foremost poet -- and one would be hard-pressed to find a competitor for the accolade. His original poetry was not only sublime, but also widely accessible -- he was a true poet of the people. His laurels are too many to count (including the Nobel Prize in Literature, the Struga Golden Wreath, and the Irish PEN), but in my mind, one of his most significant accomplishments was that he brought poetry to those who might not otherwise consume poetry, who might consider the art too academic, too arcane. He brought beauty and wonder to generations of readers who saw something of themselves set on paper in his words.

He was, by all accounts, a compassionate and upstanding man who was profoundly aware of his position as a voice of the people in a land often rent by civil and religious strife. He tried to balance a sense of cultural heritage and pride of place with a concern for individuals that was evident in everything he wrote. One of my favorite of his poems, "Digging," describes his work as a natural continuation of the life's work of his forefathers, telling the story of several generations in just a few verses. (You can hear Heaney's own rendition of it here.)

A star has fallen.

Edit: I just discovered that Seamus Heaney's last words, delivered via text message, were "Noli timere" (Latin for "Be not afraid"). How fitting -- he was a poet to the last.

R.I.P. Met Admissions Tags

Just a few days after my trip to the Met, I saw this article in The New York Times:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/06/28/arts/design/metropolitan-museum-sheds-its-metal-admissions-tags.html?hp

Starting today, the Met is retiring its iconic metal admissions tags in favor of admissions stickers. While it's a logically sensible decision, the child in me mourns the passing of an era. I hung out at the Met in high school (I probably went there about as often as most normal girls went to the mall), and amassed quite the collection of Met tags:

Yes, I have a special bowl for them. I think I'm still missing one or two of the "official" colors (and I likely have a few colors that have since been discontinued):

It'll be a bit of an adjustment next time I go -- I'll receive a sticker, and stare at it for a second in bewilderment, before realizing that the colored tags with their Leonardo Ms are no more.

Today

is the 55th anniversary of the death of Rosalind Franklin, an unsung heroine of biophysics (Watson and Crick got all the credit, including the Nobel Prize that she should have been jointly awarded). Women like Franklin -- like Marie Curie, like Ada Lovelace -- were among my childhood idols.

I am reminded of a blog post I wrote a few months ago, wherein I discuss feminism and dead people. Perhaps mine is not the generation in which we achieve true gender equality, but it is inevitable -- I have faith that the inexorable progress of our species is headed in such a direction -- and I hope to see it within my lifetime. Someday, female scientists, artists, leaders, and thinkers will be extraordinary for their accomplishments alone; someday, no one will even think to mention that a Nobel Prize winner was female -- that she won will be accomplishment enough.

And here are some pictures of very colorful (very pretty) corn in honor of Franklin's work on the structure of DNA:
http://milkwood.net/2012/05/12/glass-gem-corn-and-other-heirloom-jewels-of-the-corn-cabinet/

Obituaries as a Measure of Gender Equality

I stumbled upon this article about feminism and obituaries (obits can be fascinating!). It's worth reading; it certainly made me stop and think:

http://jezebel.com/5967871/major-newspapers-dgaf-when-notable-women-die

I have two somewhat opposing assessments of the situation:

1. This not quite the catastrophe for feminism that the article makes it out to be, for historical reasons. The women who have died in the past several years were in their prime decades ago, before women were really in a position to establish themselves in the way men did. Women who died in the current century were likely in their prime in the 1950s and 60s -- in the days when universities, politics, technology, culture, and high-paying jobs in general were still dominated by (white, heterosexual) men, and when feminist ideals were just becoming part of mainstream American society. It makes sense that there were more "great men" than "great women" from that era, because women lacked opportunity. It takes a long time to solve for centuries -- if not millenia -- of gender inequality. If we could see the obituaries written half a century or a century from today (our own obituaries, or those of our younger siblings and possible children), the gender ratio will reflect the progress that has been and will continue to be made.


2. There are certainly women who achieved great things fifty years ago who have not been acknowledged, and who would probably not have been overlooked if they were men with similar accomplishments. They were neglected by a male-centric culture much as ethnic, religious, and other minorities were by a WASP-centric culture. The social changes that these women fought for were labelled "women's issues;" the literature that they produced was marginalized as "women's lit;" and the doctors, scientists, lawyers, writers, and intellectuals of the day were prevailed upon to pursue specialties that could be safely (if not correctly) considered, by their male counterparts, exclusively female territory -- areas such as obstetrics/gynecology, family law, romance novels, feminist criticism, &c. The fact that these specialties affect women more than they do men does not make them intrinsically any less important or valid in their respective fields; rather, they were systematically labeled as less valuable by the predominately male elite, whose opinions shaped the views of countless others -- male and female. Ergo, the writers of obituaries might consider a pioneer in obstetrics, say, less influential than one in cardiology. They might consider a women's rights activist less important than an environmentalist, or an anti-war protestor. Changing this mentality, which still affects women today, is necessary to achieving gender equality in symbolic as well as practical terms.

It is therefore important to acknowledge, in today's obituaries of famous women, the hurdles that they overcame in accomplishing what they did, even if obit columns feature a glaring lack of gender parity. The gender ratio of obituaries published in my lifetime will still be skewed, which makes each woman's obit more significant. (Here's to hoping that there are female obituary writers helping the process along!) Society seems to be, by and large, moving in the direction of greater equality; undoubtedly the day when obituaries achieve gender parity will come.

R.I.P. Ray Bradbury

He died this week (on the 5th). The New York Times obituary:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/07/books/ray-bradbury-popularizer-of-science-fiction-dies-at-91.html?_r=1&ref=arts&gwh=DAB304701677810DA93A673A1510F1D2

I first learned of it from Neil Gaiman's blog, actually. He was tapped to write a tribute piece in The Guardian, and he paints a beautiful portrait of this science fiction maestro:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/06/ray-bradbury-neil-gaiman-appreciation

We all knew that Bradbury was a pioneer of the genre. We all admired his skill, his imagination, his understanding of human nature. This reveals a side of him that, sadly, many of us never encountered -- the genuine, kind human being. People like that are precious.

Here's another:
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20120608-meeting-the-master-ray-bradbury

I love his devotion to the book as an object (something I'm more than a little afraid that e-readers will kill off), especially seeing as he was a science fiction writer. (I have an e-reader, but I feel the same way about books, which increasingly makes me appear a troglodyte among my peers.) I love his enthusiasm. And of course, as Gaiman so eloquently depicted it, his kindness.

Rest in peace, Mr. Bradbury.

Happy Bunsen Burner Day!

In honor of the 201st birthday of Robert Bunsen, I thought it would be eminently appropriate to share this picture -- it's probably the most beautiful Bunsen burner I've ever seen:
http://hiox.org/13831-bunsen-burner-day.php

Yes, I've seen quite a few. Mostly at a distance, or on Youtube, but still.

R.I.P. Encyclopaedia Britannica

A sad day indeed:
http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/13/after-244-years-encyclopaedia-britannica-stops-the-presses/

We have an old set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica at home. It's from the 1980s, I believe. I was given it by my godparents after their daughter moved out, and it's been ensconced in a place of honor on the mantlepiece above the fireplace ever since. I remember using them as reference materials, of course, but more than that, I used to go downstairs and read an entry once in a while, just for fun (and to procrastinate on homework). It was a bit like the low-tech version of the Wikipedia game. I think it was one of the main reasons I was decent at trivia and parlor games, even though I generally fall flat on popular culture (a rather massive quiz bowl weakness, if you're playing individually).

We never did get another set -- which was probably a financially sound decision. I'm glad to have the one we do, and it saddens me that future generations of children might not have the opportunity to leaf through the Britannica on rainy afternoons. I thought nothing of it at the time, which was exactly the point -- such a pastime should be commonplace, and it won't be, anymore.

R.I.P. Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth

Civil Rights activist Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth passed away yesterday: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/06/us/rev-fred-l-shuttlesworth-civil-rights-leader-dies-at-89.html?ref=obituaries

I had the great honour of meeting him half a decade ago, when I was in high school, through a wonderful program called Sojourn to the Past. He was a warm, genuine person, who despite his age and vast life experience, took the time to speak with a bunch of students, to pass along the torch that he had borne so faithfully his entire life. He was truly an inspiration, and the world is a little less bright for his passing.

R.I.P. Steve Jobs

The visionary of Apple died today: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/06/business/steve-jobs-of-apple-dies-at-56.html?_r=1&hp

I'm an Apple user. I'm typing up this very post on Mycroft, my Macbook. I've had one Macbook before him (a black one, named Marvin), I use an iPhone, and I have used various iPods before it. I have a distinct, albeit annoyingly unquantifiable, preference for Apple products (as opposed to comparable computers and phones) -- that's part of the magic.

There is little I can say about Steve Jobs that has not already been said. But I think that one of his greatest accomplishments is taking everyday, functional items -- the personal computer, the phone, the music player -- and making them beautiful. An often overlooked piece of his background: he audited a calligraphy class once, in college. This led to the diverse palette of computer fonts we have today. It's the little things like this that made him great; he didn't invent the computer, but he brought to it a certain irresistible aesthetic. Sometimes, it's all in the details.

Edit (11/28): William Gibson says it better, at http://imgur.com/hu40O

NYTimes: Atlantis, or, the End of an Era

The last mission of the NASA space shuttle program departed today:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/09/science/space/09shuttle.html?_r=1&ref=global-home

I realize I'm unusually nostalgic when it comes to space exploration, and the shuttle in particular (I discuss it in a previous post, which, ironically, is about what was projected to be Atlantis's last flight.), but I still can't quite believe that the last shuttle is being decommissioned.

NASA is exploring alternatives in human spaceflight, but it will be a long while before the United States achieves anything close to its shuttle-based capabilities with other technologies. In the interim, I would be concerned for the space program, especially its ability to make an impression on potential recruits. Nothing inspires starstruck kids as much as human spaceflight -- I would know (as a child, I harbored dreams of becoming an astronaut).

While private ventures, like SpaceX, are doing an admirable job of innovating for the next generation of human spaceflight, much like the European explorers setting sail in the 1600s who were often funded by merchants and investors, they ultimately still need the backing of a government that can chart the course of not one mission, but an entire exploration program. Since human spaceflight does not produce immediate profits, require a longer view than most private ventures can tolerate, and involves more intricate international (political) interaction than most other industries, the government's role is still critical.

Let's see what takes the place of the space shuttle. In the hearts and minds of many space enthusiasts, it will continue to represent an era of great accomplishments and greater dreams.

Or, this Abstruse Goose, anyone?

The Real Wonder Woman: WWII Hero Nancy Wake Dies at 98

Working with science fiction and fantasy, I see a lot of fictional heroines who kick some serious butt. They seem to be all the rage these days -- women who wield flaming swords, rescue their men from the clutches of fell beasts, and single-handedly take on the entire Dark Lord's army. Sometimes it goes overboard in its eagerness to affirm feminist ideals (culinary ability isn't the first step to subservience, really). But there is some real life precedent for all of this:

http://www.bust.com/blog/2011/08/12/the-real-wonder-woman-wwii-hero-nancy-wake-dies-at-98.html

How's that for female empowerment? (Note, of course, that the premise of her mission's success was at least partially that the enemy would categorically underestimate her based on her gender.)

The Onion: Franz Kafka International Airport

Today is the 87th anniversary of the death of Franz Kafka. Seeing as he would probably have approved of our celebrating his death more so than his birth -- he was like that -- here's a clever, funny Onion video that one of my English professors, Elizabeth Tallent (who is absolutely amazing -- if you're at Stanford, do yourself a favor and take a class with her before you graduate!), showed our short story class:



Enjoy -- I did!

Happy Towel Day!

For those of you unfamiliar with the holiday, Towel Day celebrates the life and works of the author and humorist Douglas Adams, who is best known for the "trilogy" The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. He was a great writer and a great humanitarian. As Richard Dawkins said upon Adams's death a decade ago, "Science has lost a friend, literature has lost a luminary, the mountain gorilla and the black rhino have lost a gallant defender."

I have my towel. Do you?

R.I.P. Diana Wynne Jones

Diana Wynne Jones passed away two days ago. She was practically an institution unto herself, at least in the book world (especially in the scifi-fantasy community). She is, among writers, best known for the wonderful The Tough Guide to Fantasyland, and among the rest of the world, for Howl's Moving Castle, which was turned into a Miyazaki film of the same name. She was also known for mentoring aspiring and debut writers, of which Neil Gaiman was one, back in the day. He wrote a moving eulogy for her, a much more intimate and eloquent one, which may be found here: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2011/03/being-alive.html

A titan has fallen. She will be missed.

R.I.P. Brian Jacques

He passed away three days ago. He was a bestselling children's author most famous for his iconic Redwall series, a formative part of my childhood. I've read pretty much every Redwall book that came out before 2004, and I'm sure my sister has read all the ones published afterwards. Sure, they got repetitive after a while, but I didn't notice that back then. I thought they were cute and swashbuckling and absolutely magical.

A short obituary from Locus Magazine:
http://www.locusmag.com/News/2011/02/brian-jacques-1939-2011/

In addition to his stories, he was known for his work with blind children. Indeed, he wrote many of his stories to entertain the students at Royal Wavertree School for the Blind (in Britain). Writing for the blind is said to have influenced his descriptive style.

He will be missed.

R.I.P. R. Sargent Shriver

The obituary article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/19/us/politics/19shriver.html?hp

He is best known as the founder of the Peace Corps. My interest in him and the organization he built is that I've considered, and still am considering, applying to the Peace Corps. My parents, as one may imagine, would not be best pleased.

Rest you now in peace, Mr. Shriver, knowing that you have done a great thing, a greater and more wonderful thing than most mortal men can claim for their legacy.

R.I.P. Dame Joan Sutherland

The famed Australian soprano Joan Sutherland passed away yesterday:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/12/arts/music/12sutherland.html?_r=1&hpw

She was one of the titans of the operatic world during the height of the bel canto school. Early in her career, in the 1960s, she was nicknamed "La Stupenda" by Venician audiences who were blown away by her rendition of the Handel opera "Alcina". She went on to portray a number of the most famous Bellini heroines, and is also credited with boosting the career of one Luciano Pavarotti (he surely needs no introduction), who was then a promising young tenor just setting out in the opera world; she later recorded with him one of the authoritative versions of Puccini's Turandot.

Anyhow, I have some of her recorded work, and it's absolutely brilliant. I never, unfortunately, had the opportunity to see her on stage, and now I never will.

She will be greatly missed.