On this MLK Day in the year of our lord 2026, where only 16% of American adults read for pleasure and 40% of our nation’s children do not know how to read at all, not even their own notes from the board—it’s just symbols on a page to them—we really have to figure out a new world order. I’m thinking about reading today because my friend Steve just sent me The Uses of Literature, a collection of essays by Italo Calvino, ca. 1982, with a specific reference to part 2, “Why Read the Classics?”
Reason number 6: A classic is a book that hasn’t finished what it has to say.
Books are old friends, and we need our friends. With that in mind, I found myself shelf haunting (after a morning of chopping up ice and salting my co-op front sidewalk, followed by navigating lethal ice patches in two different directions for two sets of store runs—and those “ice” references can mean so many things now ) in my own library. Lots of associative tasks all around—ideas for little collages, fumbling into art materials I had no idea I even had, pulling out volumes to peruse. Interesting, luxurious really, to spend time off on a frigid day in a sick-ass national moment in memory of one of the best of us just letting my mind wander.
For example, I rediscovered this book, a gift from friend Tom Corbin in 2016—how is that ten years ago? This led me to learn more, again, about William Morris and his wife Jane Burden Morris, where I rediscovered a painting I used in an acting exercise ca. 1983, wherein I posed as and had to bring to life the character in the painting, as I felt her, and then participate in a class “interview” as this character. Harrowing.
Revisiting this painting (like a classic book, it’s never finished talking to us), I find I would like to hold this pose until 2029, but failing that dream, would like to suggest that we teach all our little ones to meditate in lieu of overstimulating them. I am so serious. Meditation and quiet, followed by reading, followed by walks in nature. Couldn’t school just be that for a few years? Starting now? Life is precious. Time is short. Quiet is a gift. I mean, look at her.
Sending love, quickly, because I have reading to do before the day is done, and one more walk in me, too.
Miss O’
The Miss O' Show (Teacher's Edition) 