Joan
I’ve been watching mindless Chinese animated programmes for the past few months as a way to maintain a tenuous connection with the Chinese language and escape to a world without responsibilities. However, clicking next clip after another in a 250 8min episode series slowly wears thin.
Determined to find something more enriching, I look to find a book to read. A book, unlike the usual fantasy genre I veer towards, would challenge me to lift my standards a little higher and and inspire me creatively.
By some stroke of luck, while scanning Substack and Good Reads, I chance on Joan Didion’s new book, Notes to John. By new, I mean published posthumously. This book is Joan’s journal that she wrote during a tough period in her life. It is written for her husband and deals also with her time with a psychiatrist. It sounds intense. And I’m not prepared to step into this world without first “meeting” Joan.
A search onAuckland library’s ebook library showed that most of Joan’s booked have been borrowed and many people deep in a holding queue. I select the only book available, Let me Tell You What I Mean. It is a collection of Joan’s articles written between 1968-2000.
First impressions are not ideal. Her first article read like an modern artist’s description of their art installation. Full of drama and if I were less basic, be able to recognise the artistry in weaving intellectual themes in sentences full of colons and semi colons. I finished that short article feeling quite drained and stupid.
She can't be all about intellectual gymnastics equivalent to a handstand split can she? Without wanting to give up, I read the next article and the next and the next. Half way through the book, first impressions completely overturned, I feel like this book, with articles written before I was born, was written specifically for me.
Joan’s observations, sharp and deep, her ability to interact and empathise with actors in her scenes and yet remain detached like an introverted observer, familiar to me.
And so, like Ima Cuisine’s hot cross bun that I initially found unwieldy and average, I now find myself conflicted. It feels so approachable and yet so complex. I’m hooked.
Some images of the 4 SQ convenience store at Britomart in Auckland City that I posted a few days ago.