{"id":464,"date":"2020-11-02T07:00:39","date_gmt":"2020-11-02T06:00:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/?p=464"},"modified":"2020-11-02T07:00:39","modified_gmt":"2020-11-02T06:00:39","slug":"autumn-blues","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/?p=464","title":{"rendered":"Autumn Blues"},"content":{"rendered":"

Albus McInerney edits a literary magazine.<\/em><\/p>\n

Kim\u2019s world, on the shores of Lake Michigan, is already cold. Rami\u2019s, on the coast two and a half thousand miles south of Cadiz, is hot and humid, whatever the season. Although winter comes to Patrice\u2019s island off Hongkong, it\u2019s a shadow of the frigid blanket that descends on China proper. Dimitri\u2019s home in the Balkans, like mine in Madrid, is now infused with the stark light of autumn.<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s not the season,\u2019 Dimitri said. \u2018It\u2019s the virus!\u2019 Dimitri has a way of moving from the slightly downbeat to the positively nihilistic in one conversational bound.<\/p>\n

We had collectively acknowledged the glum tone of our pre-meeting emails \u2013 like a lot of committees, many of our useful exchanges take place in the lead-up and follow-through rather than at the meetings themselves.<\/p>\n

\u2018I have to confess, I\u2019m a little preoccupied with the big event on this side of the pond,\u2019 Kim said. \u2018He\u2019ll definitely lose \u2013 but what if he doesn\u2019t!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, Kim!\u2019 Rami said, \u2018when fools are in office, you often have to look the other way!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Rami, my dear!\u2019 Dimitri remarked with professorial familiarity, \u2018if you look the other way for too long, they will come and ask you what you\u2019re looking at!\u2019<\/p>\n

I was inclined to agree. I once lived in a country where political dissent was less welcome than reasoned argument at an election rally. But on the cause of our present gloom, I took a different view. \u2018It\u2019s not the virus, Dimitri,\u2019 I said, \u2018or the election in your parts, Kim. It is most certainly the season.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Mists and mellow fruitfulness,\u2019 Patrice said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Indeed,\u2019 I replied. \u2018Flowers in the summer, Fires in the fall!<\/em> Autumn has that particular congruence of change and melancholy.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Who wrote the last bit?\u2019 Rami asked.<\/p>\n

\u2018I did,\u2019 I said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Albus, you are surely not becoming sentimental.\u2019 Kim has the magisterial knack of conveying conclusive disapproval with a clipped and steady tone.<\/p>\n

\u2018I haven\u2019t been to Ireland,\u2019 Rami said, apropos nothing that sprang immediately to mind. Then she added, \u2018but when I was a little girl, my mother recited those lines from Yeats. She used to read me poetry when we travelled to my grandmother\u2019s. I remember looking through the window at dusk and hearing my mother speak about October twilight and a still sky.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018The swans,\u2019 Patrice said, \u2018that scatter wheeling in great broken rings<\/em>.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s the one!\u2019 Kim said. \u2018I agree with Albus. It\u2019s surely the season, and not just the physical<\/em> season. There are deeper currents \u2013 life, longing, that sort of thing. This time of year prompts reflection.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018When did you ever see \/ So much sweet beauty as when fine rain falls \/ On that small tree<\/em>,\u2019 I said. \u2018That was Clive James musing on transience at the very end of his life. Perhaps there\u2019s a heightened sensibility when we grasp that everything we love will one day vanish.\u2019<\/p>\n

Not sentimental, I thought, though certainly a little on the wistful side.<\/p>\n

\u2018This thou perceiv\u2019st which makes thy love more strong \/ To love that well which thou must leave ere long<\/em>,\u2019 Patrice said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Patrice!\u2019 Rami started to laugh. \u2018Do you really have that from memory!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He had a misspent youth,\u2019 Dimitri said, \u2018all Shelley and no wop bop a loo bop.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018A lop bam boom,\u2019 Patrice interjected, it can safely be said, to general astonishment. \u2018I dabbled in other things,\u2019 he added dryly.<\/p>\n

\u2018Gentlemen!\u2019 I said, \u2018Let\u2019s not allow gloom to descend into flippancy!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Is that another one of your own, Albus?\u2019 Kim asked.<\/p>\n

\u2018Newly minted,\u2019 I said.<\/p>\n

\u2018The season makes you eloquent,\u2019 she said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Not eloquent but pensive,\u2019 I replied. \u2018In Spain the leaves are falling on empty streets. It makes me think about the time after the Civil War, when the country was quiet and afraid.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018People close their eyes to ugliness,\u2019 Rami said, \u2018but the third eye sees the beauty beyond \u2013 redemption from dictators and fools, redemption from selfishness and spite.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Bravo, Rami!\u2019 Patrice said. \u2018If Winter comes, can spring be far behind<\/em>?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Ask me in a few days,\u2019 Kim said. \u2018When the votes have been counted.\u2019<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Albus McInerney edits a literary magazine. Kim\u2019s world, on the shores of Lake Michigan, is already cold. Rami\u2019s, on the coast two and a half thousand miles south of Cadiz, is hot and humid, whatever the season. Although winter comes to Patrice\u2019s island off Hongkong, it\u2019s a shadow of the frigid blanket that descends on […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":374,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[120,75,119],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/cropped-banner-K1-1.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/464"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=464"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/464\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":467,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/464\/revisions\/467"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/374"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=464"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=464"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/sullivan.ba\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=464"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}