Dear Amber and all the Bananafish,
It's like a blast from the past to suddenly hear from you with such warmth and affection. I think Stephen (Foskett) and Tim performed such a stellar service by getting us all in touch with each other, even though we may not be communicating regularly anymore.
I see Cecilia on Facebook sometimes, when she posts about her lovely son and am always reminded of Matt Kozusko, Scottie, Will, Chris, Jim and so many others whose names I will (like you, Amber) most certainly remember soon as I have posted this.
I was reminded of the group when I heard about the Berlinale 2020 opening with My Salinger Year, based on Joanna Rakoff’s memoirs, but somehow have been caught up with the day to day, and now the lockdown in New Delhi, India.
So much to re-read, but so much to read yet! Czeslaw Milosz's The Captive Mind is what I wanted to read, but Camus's The Plague calls out for a re-read. So I think I will just end for now with a lovely Czeslaw Milosz poem:
Czesław Miłosz | The World
It appears that it was all a misunderstanding.
What was only a trial run was taken seriously.
The rivers will return to their beginnings.
The wind will cease in its turning about.
Trees instead of budding will tend to their roots.
Old men will chase a ball, a glance in the mirror–
They are children again.
The dead will wake up, not comprehending.
Till everything that happened has unhappened.
What a relief! Breathe freely, you who have suffered much.
(Translated by Czesław Miłosz and Robert Haas)
OK, let me add another by him, by way of a postscript, wishing for days like this again, soon, for all of us:
Gift
A day so happy.
Fog lifted early, I worked in the garden.
Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers.
There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess.
I knew no one worth my envying him.
Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot.
To think that once I was the same man did not embarrass me.
In my body I felt no pain.
When straightening up, I saw the blue sea and sails.
Sonny