Sam Shepard

"The sides are being divided now. It's very obvious. So, if you're on the other side of the fence, you're suddenly anti-American. It's breeding fear of being on the wrong side. Democracy's a very fragile thing. You have to take care of democracy. As soon as you stop being responsible to it and allow it to turn into scare tactics, it's no longer democracy, is it? It's something else. It may be an inch away from totalitarianism."

One of the wonderful rewards of reading, especially reading non-fiction, whether it be actual historical fact or the perceptions of real people as they react to the issues of the day, the day being defined as 10, 20 even 40 years ago, is that it can offer buffers, guardrails even, to our reactions to what is happening today.

The above quote is not from a current essay or opinion piece, but from an interview with Sam Shepard in 2004, just before the Bush - Kerry presidential election, and just after Shepard's release of "The God of Hell", one of Shepard's' few plays with political overtones.

Understanding and acknowledging that the dangers of someone like Donald Trump have been with us for the entire history of our country, does not mean we should merely throw up our hands in defeat, or shrug our shoulders with the knowledge that America has had many instances of presidential overreach just in the last 60 years, let alone in 250. 

Our misguided attempts at nation building and regime change offers a litany of failures, Korea, Cuba, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, among others, while lies upon lies as told by the Johnson Administration about Vietnam, the Bush Administration about Iraq, the Trump Administration about immigrants and elections, could be considered just another act in the same bad play.

What amazes me is that the very same people who protested against the Vietnam War, who helped break down the systemic barriers that kept minorities and women from equal opportunities, the baby boomers, in other words, are now the people who support policies that are even more odious that the ones they marched in the streets against when they were young.

They say that we become more conservative as we age. I guess the boomers are the ultimate example of a generation that lived their ideals right up until those ideals conflicted with their ability to accumulate, and protect, wealth and privilege.

I encountered Sam Shepard in the Just Kids biography I recently read. While I certainly knew of Shepard as an actor, Patti Smith's collaboration with him in writing the play Cowboy Mouth was a complete revelation to me that Shepard had not only written plays, but that he is considered one of the greatest American playwrights in history. As a result, when I saw the book Coyote: The Dramatic Lives of Sam Shepard reviewed in The Atlantic, I requested it online from the Chester County Library System.

As with Patti Smith, Shepard's life reminds me what may have been had I been born 6 to 10 years earlier. Of course, Shepard was a product of his family life as much as one of his time, so my being born in the late 40's or earlier 50's is certainly no guarantee that I would have had the experiences that either Smith or Shepard did. His life, the demons he battled, his struggles with his identity, all combined to make Shepard the person he was, just as the ease of my life in comparison, created the basis for who I am.

Conversely, Shepard's life could not have been lived today, given his addiction to sex and women, his bouts with alcohol, the extremes of his personality. It is another reason to question whether being born in a different time or as a different gender, or in a different country, can be considered a realistic thought game if we assume that what makes a person who they are is precisely all those factors that would be different with different circumstances.

At the end of "Coyote..." there is a reference to Shepard's last book, "Spy of the First Person", which he finished not long before his death in 2017. For some reason, I interpreted the mention of it as a biography, of sorts, and thought it might be interesting to read about his life from his own perspective rather than that of a biographer. That, perhaps, the darkness that was so much a part of Shepard, that was part and parcel to what made me him such an important playwright, might come through. 

Unfortunately, my assumption was incorrect as, while "Spy of the First Person" is certainly revealing in a personal sense, it is not very specific, does not refer to many of the details of Shepard's life as  "Coyote..." does.

Still, it is an interesting, curious book.

I read about six pages when I first brought it home from the library, then let it sit for a week, then picked it up again today.

Coming in at only 82 pages, I sat down with my lunch and began reading it again.

Sometimes I read, sometimes I ate soup, sometimes I ate grapes, sometimes I sipped my pink lemonade drink. 

Within an hour I was finished both my lunch and the book.

As I said, it is a curious book. Not really about anything in particular, yet it touches on many of the things that are going through Shepard's mind as he deals with his failing health.

There are some reminisces, some references to his past, but then again many are presented as someone else's life, the man in the chair on the porch across the street. Yes, this man is Shepard himself, although it takes a bit (or at least it did for me) to realize this. 

In some ways, many might shrug their shoulders as they turn the last page, and wonder, is that it?

I was recently watching "Reds" with Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton in the starring roles when my wife passed through the room and recounted how her and her cousin had stayed up late one night to watch it, and when it ended, had that same feeling, is that it?

"Reds" ends with the death of John Reed (the Warren Beatty character) after having accomplished very little, at least as it applies to his goals of organizing the American labor force and aligning it with Russia's  Bolshevik revolution, so it is easy to have that WTF feeling.

Similarly, one might have the same feeling after reading "Spy...". as there is no great realization or revelation, no profound pronouncement by the writer or his character as they face death.

But perhaps that is the point.

Shepard displayed many different personas throughout his life, despite the success of his plays. Or maybe because of them. He often seems as surprised as anyone that his work is admired, while also being devastated when his plays did not translate to the big screen. 

He seems to best describe this seeming contradiction on page 22 when it begins to become apparent that the man in the chair across the street is himself when he finishes a short paragraph about how similar they seem with "The way the eyes look confident and lost at the same time."

"Spy of the First Person" is an attempt to observe his life from a distance, yet ultimately ends with a description of a big family get together at a local Mexican restaurant in which he names each of the family members who were there, a scene as personal as there could be, finally ending the book with this paragraph which describes the family as they head home.

"The moon is getting bigger and brighter. The Strawberry Moon. Spotlighting our literal troupe. The full moon. Two sons and their father, everyone trailing behind. Going up the middle of East Water Street and it's really bright now. The full moon. We made it and we hobbled up the stairs. Or I hobbled. My sons didn't hobble, I hobbled."

If nothing else, Shepard treats his life as a series of plays, each an illustration within itself of what he is thinking, what he feels, where he is in understanding his own nature and the nature of people in general, yet he also seems to want us to know that the connection between those plays, those personas, is less important than the realizations that occur within each part. 

Almost a "be here now" kind of philosophy that acknowledges the accumulated knowledge of one's life with the recognition that it is the individual scenes that should be valued because it is within those specific moments that real happiness, companionship and contentment derive.

Or perhaps, that is just me talking. 

 

Just Kids

A book review in The Atlantic about Patti Smith's new book Bread of Angels prompted me to borrow Patti Smith's first book, Just Kids from the library, as I thought I would read that novel first before her newest effort. I was extremely happy I did.

For those of you who are not familiar with Patti Smith, and I include myself in that category, she is an incredibly versatile, talented woman who has mostly flew under the radar during her prolific career. Yes, her debut album Horses was met with wide acclaim for its originality and depth, but she is so much more than a rock star, punk rock star at that.

Born in 1946, Smith was one of the many millions of babies born after the atrocities of WW2. I believe it is a given that the horrible acts committed during that world wide conflict, led to millions of people to seek joy and a new perspective after such a horrific conflict, creating what we now call the baby boomer generation. To put numbers to it, in the eighteen years generally considered the baby boomer generation, 1946 to 1964, about 76 million babies were born to an American  population that was about 140 million in 1945. Talk about replacement theory! 

Just Kids recounts Smith's childhood days, her struggles in school, and her early search for her identity, a search which eventually takes her to New York City. It is there that she meets Robert Mapplethorpe, the yin to her yang.

As someone who often thought he was born a bit too late, having just missed the 60's and the social upheavals that fashioned the lives of those who entered that decade as teenagers rather than infants, I devoured this book imagining myself traversing the challenges of developing an artistic identity while working in menial jobs to pay the bills. 

This is not to say that Smith glorified those early days. To the contrary, bouts with lice and hunger, uncertainty about shelter, while seemingly the stereotypical experience of the struggling artist, were presented as the daily difficulties that she faced, often with tears and depression.

It is an honest depiction which does not ask for pity for the bad times or express a "I-knew-it-would-all-work-out" false bravado when she does start to achieve some success. 

Sadly, the book, although written in 2010, ends with the death of Mapplethorpe in 1989. In fact, Smith recounts the deaths of many of her acquaintances during that time, not to mention her reactions at the deaths of more famous people like Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin, among others. Although Smith is married to the late Fred Sonic Smith by then, and has two children, the loss of Mapplethorpe is palpable. She often states in the book that Mapplethorpe considered her his muse, but it is obvious that without his influence she would have never succeeded. Losing someone like that is true loss.

In my musings about being born in Smith's time, I wonder if I would have gravitated to New York's artistic scene, or perhaps California's campus protests. Smith only passingly touches on the Vietnam War, and as far as I can remember does not mention losing any friends to that overseas conflict although peak loss of American soldiers lives was from 1966 to 1970, which means that in took the lives of her contemporaries, people born between 1946 and 1950.

Of course, it is just as possible that I would not have survived those years. That like many of her friends I would have succumbed to a drug overdose or disease through an experimental homosexual encounter. Or perhaps I would have fled to Canada rather than serve in an immoral war, or fled merely because I was afraid to die. 

Another reason, a harsh truth if you will, to pretend that I would have pursued a writer's life had I been born eight or ten years earlier is to provide an excuse for not doing it regardless of my birth year. I certainly had the opportunity to follow a path of creativity in the years after I dropped out of college to "find my myself". Perhaps it was just a lack of discipline and persistence and focus. 

The good news is that I wouldn't trade my current life for these what-ifs. My life with my dear wife Nora, and the two children we raised, would never have occurred were it not for my path which resulted from the hand I was dealt by the birth lottery, and the decisions I made as I navigated my "life".

All of which increases my admiration for Patti Smith as she saw it through, stayed true to her belief that she had something to say, that all those early experiences added together enhanced her ability to create, to entertain, and to inspire others through her music and poetry. 

And, if I may be so bold to say, helps fuel my continued maintenance of this blog which is now approaching sixteen years of existence.   

It seems to be a very fine line which separates those who become famous in the worlds of music, art, writing, etc, and those who toil all their lives just below the point of "making it", who continue to write, perform, create, just for the love of it, and just to share it, and perhaps, at the odd moment, inspire someone as well. 

We are all the luckier for both those whose names are well known and those who create without achieving fame or fortune, especially when so many of the latter become teachers and mentors for those who are just beginning their own life paths. 

And, without appearing too metaphysical, I wonder if it the latter group will experience the more complete reward in the next life, the former having attained their reward in this one. 

Finally, two quotes from the book.

"In the war of magic and religion, is magic the ultimate victor? Perhaps priest and magician were once one, but the priest, learning humility in the face of God, discarded the spell for prayer." page 61.

Smith often touches on religion and spirituality, a result of her Catholic upbringing and her insatiable quest for truth.

"I learned from him that often contradiction is the clearest way to truth." page 200.

This quote appears towards the end of the book, as Mapplethorpe comes to grips with his homosexuality and his fear that by accepting that trait, it would deligitimize their relationship. That being categorized as a gay man would mean that his deep connection with Patti Smith, physically, emotionally, spiritually, would be deemed some type of false experience.