Yesterday, the 2019 Man Booker Prize longlist was revealed. Being the investigator of new books that I am, I promptly logged into my Goodreads account, created a new bookshelf entitled, “mbpl-2019,” and shelved the finalists that sounded interesting. This is something I’ve done the past three years, and of the 34 finalists that I’ve shelved, I’ve read a grand total of two.
Obviously, I’ve been keeping well abreast with my TBR list.
My Goodreads Reading Challenge for this year is set to 50 books. Last night, resolved to tackle more of my “Want to Read” shelf (thanks, MBP), I checked out from the library two books that have been on my radar: reads 32 and 33, The President’s Hat and The Red Notebook, both written by French novelist Antoine Laurain.
All this to say that today, I learned about Cycladic art as it related to the interests of Laurain’s neurologist in The Red Notebook. A comatose patient has no sight, thus, no need for eyes; no speech, thus, no need for a mouth. Only a nose through which to breathe.
My first thought was actually whether I’d previously seen Cycladic art in Frasier Crane’s flat. Will confirm and report back.
Then, I settled into awe of Laurain for even thinking to assign a Cycladic head sculpture as a neurologist’s desk ornament. Laurain draws a marvelous connection between a primitive art movement that minimizes facial features with a still-relevant medical condition that denies the use of two of four cranial senses. My research on Cycladic art hasn’t expressly hinted at any specific reason for exclusion of eyes or mouths, other than that Cycladic sculpture is archaic, and so related to the purposes of early works like the Venus of Willendorf.
However, I can’t help but be inspired by the simplicity of the Cycladic face. When we strip away the unimportant from our everyday, all that really matters is that we were given another day to breathe. Take a note from Laurain and the Cyclades – embrace what is necessary, and don’t dwell on what isn’t.
It doesn’t matter if we don’t have huge social circles, have bodies that look a certain way, or aren’t the top man in our career field. Our fallen world places a lot of value on status, vanity, and money, all ephemeral and fleeting after wind.
It’s not worth expending the energy to fret about old friends and wonder why they stopped communicating. The people that are in your life right now are the ones that care to be there.
It doesn’t benefit us to hold on to things we don’t need. Sometimes materialism keeps us from larger experiences, or ironically, feelings of satisfaction.
It’s okay to experience failure, that’s what teaches us and motivates us to succeed next time.
But what do we really need? Gratitude, propinquity, faith. Only a nose through which to breathe.
Waverly At Dawn 