The Risk of Art and the Passing of a Legend
The Risk of Art, and the Passing of a Legend
Despite popular opinion, the world of literature is a happening place. Especially during the month of April; not only is it National poetry month, but the Spring Revel just happened last week. James Salter was honored at the revel and this entire month in the world of literature has been honoring his work. I could write about all the rambles and ruminations I have while perusing either The Paris Review in print or their blog, but it would never do them any justice. Besides who wants to read such a long post anyway?
I am really not difficult to please when it comes to reading. Newspapers, poetry, magazines, and almost any genre of books will most likely appeal to me. As long as it is written beautifully, then I will gladly sit down and journey to a new world for a few hours. Its how the story is told not the story its self.
To quote Martial from one of his memorable epigrams, “If you are likely to be the really persnickety type of reader, do you mind leaving now? Just head in the direction of absolutely no where.” * I wholly agree with this statement and only Sarah Neri could say it better with, “By reading, people open their minds to be mentored by others whom they have never met due to time and space differences. C.S. Lewis, Socrates, and Billy Graham are available to talk when I open a book to listen.
Every time I walk into a bookstore I spend hours perusing the shelves and yielding a significant portion of my paycheck. That’s why I find those wonderful folks at The Paris Review to be more than a resource. In their excerpts and interviews, I always find my interest being piqued, and without their slight nudge I may have passed over a beautiful piece of writing.
The staff pick this week is Phillip Connors debut work of nonfiction called Fire Season: Field Notes from a Wilderness Lookout. The name caught my attention because originally, Connors contributed to The Paris Review with diary excerpts.
This narrative piece is filled with introspection and the peace that only solitude can bring. In between this contemplation is his recounting of days upon days in this 1,000 foot high tower in the middle nowhere that is so untouched by anything man-made, that it is beyond breathtaking, as he gazes upon the scenery searching for plumes of smoke.
When I sat down to write today, it was not really with the intention to speak about books read or how being a bibliophile has changed me into a person I never knew I could be but am pleased with the result. No, I wanted to write about shocking news that is so far removed from me and yet it affected me personally.
I am an avid reader of almost anything by Sebastian Junger. For those of you who do not know him or his work, let’s see what I can tell you. Mr. Junger is a journalist, a documentartian, and an author. He is actually a graduate of Wesleyan University, which I did not know until I was working an event we hosted for them and I handed him his wine.
His most notable work is the nonfiction piece of literature called The Perfect Storm: A true story of men against the sea. While that was a fascinating read, what really drew me to his work was his writing style in War.
I took a social work and soldier class over the previous summer at college, because I was bored, and this was on my required reading list. I found it so moving and so horrifying that I couldn’t put it down and yet it evoked such emotion out of me that it as forced to put it down until I could settled. This book focused on him and his friend and photographer as they accompanied an American Military unit into the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan.
The book covers months that he spent with this unit and the harrowing experiences they had and how they are forever changed. It was down, dirty, and it covered their day to day lives. As a civilian with barely any interaction with a member of Armed forces it was hard to swallow at times. It did not focus on politics or what else was really going on in this war. He does not stand on a soap box and pick sides or voice opinions on whether he supports the war or not.
No, this was all about humans and what we can endure and how we cope with what we are faced with. I found myself crying at times, and yet marveling at how these men survived; physically, emotionally, and mentally. With the assistance of Tim Hetherington (his photographer) they made an Oscar nominated documentary of their time and experience in Afghanistan called, Restrepo.
But again, that was not what this post is about, it is about a tribute to a man I never knew, but was touched by his work through my following of Junger. The Paris Review made a mention of this briefly on their blog and I of course had to get the full story and track this down.
So while perusing through Junger’s official community/website I was horrified to learn that Tim Hetherington, a photojournalist, was killed while covering the situation in Libya. I was stunned and offered a prayer to the man almost immediately and when my eyes fell back to my computer there was a post about Vanity Fair publishing a letter that Mr. Junger wrote to his friend once he heard the news. I read it and not only is it an accurate example of his work, but it was a heart breaking piece about the passing of a dear friend on April 20th, 2011
You can find the letter here at: http://www.vanityfair.com/magazine/2011/04/sebastian-junger-remembers-tim-hetherington-201104.
To find out more about Sebastian Junger please check out his official website at: http://www.sebastianjunger.com/
One of the best resources of all time for everything pertaining to literature is of course The Paris Review and their website is http://www.theparisreview.org/ and I encourage you to check out their blog for all the update information!
I wish I could think of something eloquent that would be worthy of Hetherington, but everything I can think of to say (well, write) comes out clichéd and heartless. I guess all I can say is thank you for your service. You were breaking down barriers in how the media covered their stories and how informed the public was about events. Everything i read or saw of your work was a deeply emotional experience despite how removed I always was of the situations and events. I wish I could have met such a brilliant man and I pray that your family and friends find some sort of comfort . May you rest in peace, Tim Hetherington.
~
Notes-
1. None of these pictures are mine and I take no profit in what I write or upload. (*There are several translations and sometimes the epigram ends with “anywhere else” however the one above just sounds better to me. )