Still thinking about the Dimbley Lecture given by Jeanette Winterson. I’ve long admired her writing, her thinking, and recently re-read ‘Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?’ as part of my study of memoir–eager to do a more in depth analysis of this work alongside ‘Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit’, paying attention to the how to’s of clothing memoir in fiction. I can’t but feel that parts of my own story might benefit from this approach.
Right now I’m thinking about how wondrous it is to be in London. Great thinkers are everywhere. Art is everywhere. I am free to move among it all, absorb it, have it influence my own work. Writers. Politicians. Actors. Musicians. It all seems so much a part of daily life here. It’s impossible to not be inspired, to not be conscious of the history that lives in these buildings and along these streets, this ground.
Jeanette Winterson quoted Millicent Fawcett in her speech: “Courage calls to courage everywhere.” I need to take in the newly unveiled statue of her, sit with that history a bit, wander around in it. I’m having a hard time understanding and accepting just how not okay the situation of women in the world currently is. How is it that in 2018 we are in the middle of a revolution? Did we get complacent at some point in the past, is this why things have slid downhill so far? How can we be this unequal? This disrespected?
“To listen to each other, to really listen, is to redeem the best in ourselves so we can learn to write a new story for how to fully and beautifully show up in the world.”
Yes, tonight I am rambling. My mind is whirling. And I know it’s because I have a 7:45 train to catch in the morning. OY.