Dear friends, I find myself moved again to write by a strange set of
coincidences that have me believing in signs. You might recall I posted
a little ditty about Leigh Smith's book on Saturday and how Twain keeps
popping up -- well this week has been a non-stop media blast. The other
night after a long day of editing, I sat down in front of the television
and hit the remote. Sure enough, there was the very end of "It's a
Wonderful Life" and George Bailey was opening up his copy of Tom Sawyer
inscribed by Clarence the newly be-winged angel. I hastily turned over
to the Hallmark channel to watch a Christmas special called "Silent
Night." This, I thought would be a sure-fire way to escape all things
Hannibal, slave, and Twain for a few hours. The plot summary sounded
like just the ticket -- World War II -- Battle of the Bulge -- a group
of GIs and Germans take shelter in a cabin with a housefrau and her son.
It started amid the wreckage of battle on Christmas eve. Mom and
her teenage son are making their way to the cabin deep in the forest
speaking in German. There are subtitles. Cool, I think. I went to
college. I can handle subtitles. Then when they get in the cabin, Mom
says, "time for your English lesson." What do you think Herr Junior
pulls out of his Hitler Youth haversack? Yep, a copy of Huckleberry
Finn.
By this time, of course, I am hooked. It was a great story --
roughly based on a true story I had read some time before. The battle
rages around them. An American patrol shows up. A German patrol shows
up. Mom makes everyone disarm. She is taking refuge in the cabin
because her son has been called up for duty. She has already lost one
son and doesn't know where her husband is. She is hoping to be captured
by the Americans. There are several long shots of the book and you don't
have to be a genius to get the fact that the cabin is the raft -- oh,
the subtleties of Hollywood.
Then tonight: Vicki and I get back from the Y and I make dinner.
She asks me if I would like a beer. I made the mistake of saying yes.
Now, I should tell you that I received in the mail today two very
important packages. The first was a permission to quote letter from the
New-York Historical Society with eight long quotes that are important to
my book with very specific instructions on how they are to be cited.
The second was sixty pages of manuscript which a friend had mailed to me
with edits. My intentions were to eat my supper and go right to work.
However, Vicki did not just bring up a beer. She brought up a Chimay
blue label beer. Brewed by Belgian Trappist monks, the delightful
beverage weighs in at 9% alcohol. I considered going down to the
basement in search of something less potent, but as I have not been to
church for some time, I took the moral factors into account and drank
it. I soon found myself too stupefied to work on the manuscript -- but
just right for television. To my surprise, I was well-rewarded by my
accidental viewing.
Roy Blount, Jr.'s "Main Stream" was on PBS. The story of Roy's trip
down the Mississippi, a two-hour special, was just wonderful. Of course
the show was loaded with references to Huck and Jim and Twain -- but I
didn't mind a bit. Vicki and I laughed ourselves silly in places. I
truly admire a man who will noodle a catfish out of a hollow log as Roy
did. I had relatives in Mississippi who sank old water heaters for
catfish to nest in -- then they didn't have to rely on the vagaries of
shifting hollow logs. Roy explored backwaters and how they are
important to the health of the mainstream -- and wasn't heavy handed
with the symbolism. Of course there was pathos. You can't explore the
ecological damage that has been done to the river and the people who
live along it without pain -- but it was a balanced piece. If you didn't
get to see it tonight, watch for it to run again. It is worth a watch.
There you are. If you aren't running into all of this Twain stuff
(and you want to), just come spend 24 hours with me. I can't seem to
get away from it. Terrell Dempsey
|
