Anne Tyler — ‘Noah’s Compass’ — The End

Liam and Eunice were in the blush of romance, last we saw them. That didn’t last long, naturally. What “Noah’s Compass” needs is a little more love and a little less reality. I won’t spoil the story by revealing the details of the relationship’s failure. It was painful, and sad, and just plain disappointing. But you knew that.

“This was how little time it took, evidently, to grow accustomed to being with somebody,” Anne Tyler notes. It’s an observation she’s made in other books about alone people. The whole romance thing left Liam feeling undeservedly guilty, and hollow. But don’t go away! That’s not the end of the book, only the end of the romantic phase. Life goes on.

You might be wondering what role Noah played in the story.  Jonah, the grandson, brings on the biblical Noah for a cameo appearance. Jonah believed that Noah was responsible for the death of many animals, since he allowed only two of each on his boat. Where do four-year-olds get such ideas?  Was it a motor boat, or a sailboat, Jonah wanted to know. Liam had to tell him that Noah needed neither motor or sails, “because he wasn’t going anywhere.”

“There was nowhere to go. He was just trying to stay afloat.” Liam said. And so on.

Liam retreats to his apartment, “a haven of solitude,” to sit in his armchair for days. In an introspective flashback, Anne Tyler narrates Liam’s long decline from promising scholar to unemployed fifth-grade teacher. Each step along the way is a step down.

I think Ms. Tyler is laying it on a bit too thick when she demotes Liam, a man with a long career in teaching, to a sort of teacher’s aid in a preschool for three-year-olds. The children have unquestioning trust in Liam. But of course the young teacher, whom he assists, finds Liam a bit lacking. Naturally.

I’ll leave the story there.

If you’ve never read Anne Tyler before, please don’t start with Noah’s Compass. Start with Accidental Tourist, or Breathing Lessons, or Ladder of  Years. They are stories of daily life and loss, but those books offer flashes of humor, hope and forgiveness.  In Noah’s Compass, there is nothing but sorrow and rejection. And failure. Liam does not resist. His saving graces are humility and acceptance.

Some would argue that Anne Tyler has something to say here about happiness. If so, it is a subtle and muted happiness.

– John Hayden

Anne Tyler — ‘Noah’s Compass’ — Take 2

I’ve read nearly 100 more pages of “Noah’s Compass.” When we left Liam Pennywell, he was alone and depressed, and, as he put it, “Almost waiting to die.” Naturally, Anne Tyler wasn’t going to let Liam’s story go in a straight line.

Liam soon becomes involved with a younger woman, a woman who says, “My parents think I’m a failure.” Next thing you know, Liam’s teen-age daughter, Kitty, has moved out of her mother’s house and settled in  Liam’s den, for the summer. Liam’s romantic interest, Eunice, is coming over every evening, under the pretense of helping him with his resumé, Kitty’s teen-age boyfriend visits all the time, and Liam is providing taxi service for the two teens. ‘Nother words, Liam’s life is getting complicated.

Next, Liam gets pressed into babysitting his four-year-old grandson. The one-bedroom apartment is becoming crowded, offering little privacy. And Liam and Louise are getting serious. Some of life’s important decisions are negotiated with astonishing simplicity.

Liam confides to Louise: “Sometimes I think my life is just . . . drying up and hardening, like one of those mouse carcasses you find beneath a radiator.” One confidence begets another. Louise says she’s “more like one of those buds that haven’t opened. I’m hanging there on the bush all closed up.”

With intimacy established, the negotiation follows. Here’s a snippet of Anne Tyler’s dialog:

Liam: “Do you think somebody sixty is too old for somebody thirty-eight?”

Eunice: “No, I don’t think it’s too old.”

Liam: “Me neither.”

Only 110 pages left in “Noah’s Compass,” but with Anne Tyler, anything can happen. I’ll report more later.

Anne Tyler — ‘Noah’s Compass’ — Take 1

It doesn’t take long for Anne Tyler to establish our hero, Liam Pennywell, as a  pathetic character. He has been recently “fired,” or “downsized,” depending on your viewpoint, from his teaching job.

In the first few pages of “Noah’s Compass,”  Liam bravely assesses the situation and recognizes that he ought to live more simply and frugally. He gives up his comfortable apartment and moves to a small, nondescript one-bedroom place.

To say that Liam doesn’t get any respect from his ex-wife and his daughters, would be an understatement.

One grown daughter describes her father (to his  face) as “A sixty-year-old man in a rinky-dink starter apartment directly across from a shopping mall.”

Rubbing it in, the daughter adds, “A sixty-year-old man who can still move all his belongings in the very smallest size U-Haul.” A man who drives a used Geo Prizm.

Liam endures this tirade at a time and place when he could use a little sympathy. He’s in a hospital bed with a painful bump on his head and stitches in one hand. Apparently, he was attacked by an intruder on the first night in his new apartment. Worse, he has suffered a concussion and can’t remember what happened.  The loss of one night’s memory is driving Liam crazy.

That sums up the first 75 pages of Noah’s Compass. The theme, far as I can tell, is that Liam is dealing with aloneness and a loss of self-esteem and self-confidence. He sees zero future prospects for himself. But oddly, he looks forward to his bleak future with some curiosity.

Anne Tyler has written about quirky characters enduring loss and grief before. In fact, it is her specialty.

After 75 pages, Ms. Tyler has built a bit of suspense that something completely unexpected is about to happen. I imagine that Liam is about to embark, at age 61, on an unlikely adventure.

– John Hayden

Anne Tyler — ‘Noah’s Compass’

I’ve got it. Noah’s Compass, the 18th novel by Anne Tyler, one of the great authors of my lifetime. It’s just out in hardback. I don’t buy many books anymore, but I need this one. I think it might be about me.

The dust jacket says Noah’s Compass is the story of Liam Pennywell, “A schoolteacher, who has been forced to retire at sixty-one, coming to terms with the final phase of his life.”  With a name like Liam Pennywell, you know right away he’s not an Alpha Male.

I don’t know which is worse, the lost job or the final phase. It sounds so . . .  so Final.

Noah’s Compass is “RIPPED FROM THE HEADLINES,” as they say.

• “Mostly Male Jobs Lost In Recession”
• “Wives Make More Money”
• “Men Need Not Apply”

The concluding paragraph on the dust jacket:  “We all know a Liam. In fact, there may be a little of Liam in each of us. Which is why Anne Tyler’s lovely novel resonates so deeply.” You bet we all know a man like Liam! (The writer of that dust jacket should be happy she gets a paycheck. She didn’t need to call the book about Liam’s final phase “lovely.”  Talk about twisting the knife!)

I, your 61-year-old, unemployed blogger, am going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to read  Anne Tyler’s new book, and I’m going to blog about it every day as I go along. (Do you think anyone would make a movie about that?  No?  That’s what I thought.)

I expect to find “quirky” characters in this book. Every reviewer who writes about Tyler calls her characters “quirky.”  Other than that, I expect my expectations to be “preconceived,”  and probably unfounded, as well. Ms. Tyler’s books rarely go where you think they’re going.

I hope to find an adjective better than “lovely” for  Noah’s Compass. “Rugged” or “Epic” or “Thrilling” or “Grand.” Anything but “lovely.”

I promise not to use too many direct quotes from Noah’s Compass, and I will try not to give away any surprise endings.

– John Hayden

Thanksgiving Simplicity in America (Easier Said Than Done)

The cozy comfort of family tradition took precedence, at the last minute, over the plan to simplify Thanksgiving.

Turkey-vegetable soup was replaced on the menu by a grand old turkey with all the trimmings. We were all so mellow after the dinner and wine that we didn’t get around to the pie at all on Thursday.  No problem, man. Apple pie warmed in the microwave, with a generous topping of whipped cream, makes the perfect Black Friday breakfast. Apple pie for breakfast is American simplicity, as long as the pie has been pre-baked.

Now Black Friday, THAT we have simplified, for years. We all slept late, sat around and read the newspaper (they still get the Washington Post here!), and tossed the tennis ball for the dog. How about that reality-show glamor couple that crashed President Obama’s first state dinner? Of course, Barack and Michelle Obama are America’s first family of glamor.

In a little while, we’ll have a larger family gathering at an undisclosed location in Montgomery County, with a pie theme. Pizza and left-over apple and pumpkin. Continue to relax and enjoy!

Thanksgiving Simplicity in America

I’m enjoying Thanksgiving with family in Montgomery County, in the neighborhood where we grew up. Lilley, Poe, Bubbles, et. al.  They have an entire guest basement for me, with full bath.

Thanksgiving in America

This year we’re simplifying Thanksgiving.  Instead of a whole turkey with all the trimmings, the menu will include hot turkey-vegetable soup, cheese, wine, bread, pumpkin and apple pie, whipped cream. What more could we possibly need? I can hardly wait. Lots of talk. Scrabble. Maybe good movies on TV.

We have much to be thankful for, and we know it!  Thankful to the Creator, and thankful for each other. (And thanks to PicApp for making this selection of Thanksgiving photos available.)

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all! God Bless America! And God Bless The Whole Wide World, No exceptions!

Life And Blogging: So Much To Do

Let me humbly acknowledge: I have been shamefully neglecting “Life After 60,” the blog. This is because I’m too busy LIVING life after 60, the life.

Here are a few of the things I’ve been busy with:

• Covering a three-day Nor’easter, worst storm in my neighborhood since 1998, for my other blog.
• Applying for Unemployment Compensation. (Application accepted)
• Applying for at least two jobs per week, as required by Unemployment Comp.
• Attending classes to learn how to be a volunteer adult literacy tutor.
• Doing homework for above classes. (Found out I’ve forgotten how to study with any discipline.)
• Rearranging furniture in my efficiency apartment to make better use of the small space. (I’m not finished.)
• Laundry, at least once every two weeks. Cleaning the bathroom, once every two weeks, whether it needs it or not. Running the dishwasher once every two days.
• Getting a colonoscopy once every decade, whether I need it or not. (My decade ran out last year. I’m thinking about making an appointment, which is the crucial first step.)
• I have not yet motivated myself to make the Recession Vegetable Soup, but I have assembled the ingredients and the necessary cookware.
• Treating my Seasonal Affective Disorder by taking naps. (I don’t know if this is a medically approved course of treatment, but it has the advantage of being free, whether you have health insurance or not.
• I’m still paying my monthly COBRA bill to keep the good health insurance I’ve got for a few more months. And then there’s the rent, the credit cards, food, gas . . .

Most recently, visited the Christmas Bazaar at my church, near the end of the second day of the event. They had marked everything down to half price. I bought two ancient commemorative tin wall hangings, one with a picture of JFK, the other with a picture of Jackie. They still have the original Hecht Co. price tags. Hecht Co. sold the plates for $1 each in 1977. I bought the pair for $1 at the church bazaar. What do you suppose they would fetch on eBay? (They’re not for sale at any price.)

Jack and Jackie and Hecht Co. have all passed on to their rewards. I am delighted to be living life, with my memory and my health still in good working order.

– John Hayden

Mac or Windows? Drawing the Line on Frugality.

I can compromise on cola, for the sake of frugality, but you gotta take a stand on principle somewhere.

I think I’ll draw my line at computers and operating systems. Two years ago, I paid twice the price for my Mac iBook from Apple, compared to a generic Windows laptop. Never regretted it. Would do it again (not that I can afford a new computer right now).

The point is, I don’t NEED a new computer. Apple keeps sending me free software updates over the Net. If I had bought the Windows laptop two years ago, that balky version of Windows would be obsolete, and I’d be faced with buying the new Windows or a new computer.

My brand loyalty to Apple is stronger than ever. I’m determined to hold out for an iPhone, or at least an iPod, when I can afford it. Right now, Apple is still coming out with significant improvements to the iPhone on a regular basis, and reducing the price as well. So I’m content to wait another year or two until the iPhone is fully evolved, and the price is lower.

Waiting to make an important purchase is a good approach to frugality. Paying more for a product that won’t be obsolete in six months can be thrifty in the long run. Immediate gratification is over-rated.

Coke and/or Pepsi? Now I’m Getting Serious About Frugality

Coke has always been my cola.  Yes, I can taste the difference!  I usually stock up on extra Coke when it’s on sale. But when Pepsi is on sale and Coke is not, I stayed with the Coke.

Just this week I’ve realized that brand loyalty is an extravagance I can no longer afford. Unfortunately, I’ve also noticed that Pepsi seems to be on sale a lot more than Coke. A few weeks ago I was able to buy two-liter bottles of Coke for $1 at one of those “dollar” stores. Then it went up to $1.25.

I’ve searched the supermarkets and the discount stores in the past week. The regular price for a two-liter Coke seems to be $1.79. The lowest price I found was $1.25. But Pepsi is on sale for 99 cents!

Breaking a lifetime habit, I decided I simply could not justify paying 26 cents more for the taste of Coke. Just like that, Coke was no longer an essential in my everyday life. Does this count as an epiphany?

Now I’m getting serious about thrift. You’ll know I’m deadly serious when I shake the cola habit and switch to water or tea.

 

Stupid Bachelor Tricks: Potatoes

Why have I wasted my life eating French fries at restaurants? Why have I limited my home cooking to nuking frozen food?

I should have known better. I read Potatoes Not Prozac! 10 years ago. I told my sister, Rosemary, about it. She read Potatoes Not Prozac! I ignored it, and she took its message to heart.

A few days ago, Rosemary told me how she boils Yukon Gold potatoes. She said it was OK to put butter on them! I think that was the magic word. “Butter.” Or maybe, “Boil.”

“Boil a potato, that doesn’t sound too difficult,” I said to myself. “I can do that!”

Tonight, motivated by the desire for a more frugal lifestyle, I boiled a potato. I knew to use water, but I wasn’t sure how long to boil the potato. I washed it first, left the skin on, and cut it in quarters, exactly like Rosemary said. I used the “stick a fork in it” method to decide when it was done.

I smashed the quartered potato a little and added a liberal amount of butter. I topped it off with a sprinkle of that brand-name “seasoned salt” (no MSG). The potato was great! Why didn’t I think of this before?

I don’t know if Kathleen DesMaisons Ph.D. would approve of the butter and the seasoned salt. She’s the one who wrote Potatoes Not Prozac! Ms. DesMaisons also has a nifty Web site, ”Radiant Recovery,” where her disciples gather to meditate on the virtues of a life without sugar.

Wait a minute? No sugar? I don’t think I’m ready for that. Stick a fork in me, I’m done.