Peter Costello
The World of Books
By the books editor
Once again, thanks largely it seems to a very human impatience to be done, once and for all, with the pandemic, lockdown restrictions have returned because so many, especially in Dublin and Kildare, could not wait as calmly as we should for ‘normal life to return’.
But as a result of the rising infections and deaths we are facing into serious levels of restriction. During the last season of constraint, these pages suggested some relevant books, old and new, to read that seemed appropriate to the moment. This we will do again.
But first of all, this time, however, we would like to suggest something else, a proposal that will help us concentrate on how we feel ourselves, and what we feel about those around us, and perhaps even about life in general, and what it feels like when one’s ‘interior castle’ is under siege. But this time not by reading, but by writing.
Now is the time to begin ‘a journal of the plague year’.
That of course was the title of a famous work by Daniel Defoe published in 1772 (about which more will be said on another occasion).
What I am suggesting here is a simpler thing. That every day one records a small number of lines, perhaps half a page, certainly no more than two, moments in the days as they go by that strike upon one’s imagination or memory or affect one’s feelings. But how to go about this?
First it needs to be written by hand, whether on sheets of paper or in a note book, or school copy. It should not be composed on a word processor. There are good reasons for this.
Pen and paper
Many writers find that using pen and paper provides great control and yet greater freedom in writing. On the screen what one types looks all too finished, too like a book or article already to be printed, merely at the push of a button. Writing by hand provides different psychological connections between brain, spirit, purpose and result, something more akin to the sketches that an artist would make of what he sees around him in city and country: a random grab at moments of an ever changing reality.
The best way to this is simply to make notes of personal impressions and feeling. Do not strive in any way to be arty, or literary, or cultural, or scientific, or psychological. Just be yourself, and admit to yourself what you feel.
Do not let this little record become, however, in any way a burden. See perhaps as making a record for yourself when each day of lockdown seems later to have melded into another.
Remember every day, like every person, is different, so make a record of it.
Don’t bother with celebrities or politicians…keep to your own little cohort, to your street, your neighbourhood, your park, your shops, your local school. And above all, your home”
Perhaps clippings from papers or magazines, could be pasted into the pages too. But don’t bother with celebrities or politicians, or even your opinions about them. Keep to your own little cohort, to your street, your neighbourhood, your park, your shops, your local school. And above all, your home.
It might be too that everyone in a family can keep their own record. Later on they can be shared around. ‘Was that really what it felt like’ the grandchildren, your grandchildren to come in another era, will ask.
But a warning. If you want to keep a ‘secret diary’ and more deeply personal one, by all mean do so, the sort of diaries kept by Boswell or Pepys, kept in code or under lock and key. No, I have in mind something more akin to Parson Woodforde or the Rev. Mr Kilvert. These would not be secret pages, but pages to go back over and to share with others.
In such a diary there is room too for spiritual thoughts. These too in later years you may find especially valuable. You will then say to yourself: “Well, what faith I had that carried me through it all.”
So add to the days shopping a few note books or copies, a box of pencils and do not forget a pencil sharpener – that will keep you to the point in the weeks to come.