Astonish Me
On my obsession with Edwin Booth, books about families and first drafts
As recently as Friday, I have become obsessed with Edwin Booth.
Have you heard of him? The greatest 19th century tragedian and older brother to, uh, John Wilkes Booth?
I think we all know John Wilkes was an actor. What I did not know is that he was a member of a theatrical royal family. His father, Junius Brutus (!!!!!!) Booth, fled London with a woman who was not his wife and became one of the most famous actors in America.
So the Booths were nepo babies. And while John Wilkes was not as talented as he was handsome, Edwin was known widely for his acclaimed portrayal of Hamlet. In 1864, Edwin played Hamlet for 100 nights, a record that wasn’t broken until 1923 by John Barrymore (drew berrymore’s grandfather, her nepo genes go way back).
In my googling of Edwin, I found a recording of him reciting the scene from Othello where he explains to the Venetians how he won Desdemona. Obviously, it’s old. Over a century old. It’s a rough cut, there’s some scratching that almost overpowers him but he’s there— melodious and lilting with conviction. Speaking through space and time. Frankly, it’s haunting!
Also haunting–
After my freshman year of college when my parents came to pick me up for the summer break, we made a detour to Lincoln's summer cottage. It was peaceful. Rural. Slightly less swamp-like than the city. We can say that I have an overactive imagination, but history was palpable in the airwaves. I wanted to feel Lincoln there so I did. Standing on the back porch I could picture him doing the same, taking in the view and feeling a moment of ease.
Also, ironically, Edwin once saved Lincoln’s son Robert from being run over by a train when he fell onto the tracks.
Is it callous to say that fate works in mysterious ways?? (it is, i am kidding)
This is me stopping myself from going long on Edwin Booth.
Well, not entirely…
What I’m Reading
Booth by Karen Joy Fowler - This book is the epitome of screaming, crying, throwing up. It’s told from the points of view of John Wilkes’s siblings– Rosalie, Edwin and Asia. At it’s core, it’s a story about the Booths as a family, more specifically it’s about sibling dynamics and how the alliances within a family grow and shift. How family lore and trauma are passed down through generations. It honestly made me homesick for when my brother and I were living under the same roof.
Interspersed within the family saga are dispatches from Lincoln– snippets of his speeches and where he was in his career as the years ticked by. It was honestly a great American history refresher as I realized I am more readily familiar with the Victorian Era across the pond. In this way, Lincoln looms large over the story (as if you could forget him), and more than once I found myself moved to tears by his words (i also squawked in delight when i read that, like me, his favorite of shakespeare’s plays is macbeth).
I could take up the rest of this newsletter talking about this book – the occasionally omniscient narrator, the way I was so steeped in these characters’ lives that I gasped at public slights and at references to other major players of the period, the amount of things I made a note to google later because I didn’t want to stop reading. I cannot foresee a time when I will not recommend this book or bring it up in casual conversation.
Astonish Me by Maggie Shipstead - This is one of the few times I have immediately read a book after I bought it. I picked this up the other weekend based on it’s cover. When I flipped to the first page and read the opening line, I knew it was coming home with me–
In the wings, behind a metal rack crowded with bundles of cable and silk flower garlands and stringless lutes from act 1, two black dachshunds lie in a basket.
Full of vividly grounding sentences like these, this short novel covers the span of nearly 30 years, weaving between interconnected perspectives, drifting in and out of the world of ballet. It takes its time getting to where it’s going (honestly when ballet was not at the forefront, my interest dipped), but in doing this, the story sneaks up on you. It’s almost like the author knew exactly what she was doing??
Like Booth, it’s also largely about family– the one we’re born into and then the one we choose.
A novel about someone who is lost to themselves and their craft:
Less by Andrew Sean Greer - I love, loved this Pulitzer Prize winner. It’s a globetrotting story that follows the middling author Arthur Less as he accepts an array of literary invitations to avoid facing his problems at home. This book is so cinematic and deeply funny, but also poignant.
Getting older is hard! Disappointment is hard! Changing your life is hard! Less can get you through that.
A novel about another talented alcoholic:
West of Sunset by Stewart O’Nan - Reading about Edwin’s adventures in California (it was so insanely hard to get to California in the 1850s, like imagine you have to sail perilously to panama and then on to california from there. would i live here if i had to make a journey like that?? i mean… maybe) and struggles with alcoholism, I was reminded of this novel about F. Scott Fitzgerald. It chronicles Fitzgerald’s time in Hollywood working unsuccessfully as a screenwriter, struggling deeply with his alcoholism and dating a gossip columnist while Zelda was in a mental hospital. Weirdly, I think about this book a lot. Maybe it’s just living in LA. It also has an ending that broke my heart a little.
What I’m Writing
Friends, I did it. I finally wrote the chapter I have been putting off for the better part of… two months. Once I found a way to write it, it was like I took a sledgehammer to a wall and was able to make up an ending.
I’ve found that there’s a high that comes with finishing a draft followed by a weird low. It always feels so final, even when I know I’ll be with these characters and these places again in edits. It’s nice to be sad about leaving a world I guess because maybe that means other people will feel the same?? (i’m sorry I keep doing the double question marks, this is my mom’s move and it is rubbing off on me) I’m also generally bad at goodbyes. When I finished the final draft of my last novel, I had to write goodbye notes to all the characters… (i’m so lame)
What’s exciting about this draft is that I have written a book before and so this one was easier, and it’s in a better place than the first draft of my first novel (it’s almost like the more you write, the better you get at it).
Even though I’m itching to keep working, I’ve taken a step away from the draft so I can read it with fresh-ish eyes. It’s been a week, we’ll see how much longer I can last…
Some tabs I closed when I finished my draft:
the scene from Scrubs where JD sings “Africa” in the tub
recently played music on 106.7 FM
meghan markle’s op-ed in the NYT about her miscarriage
a baby naming site (this is to name characters, not an actual baby, like you can type in Sydney and it will spit out similar names)
a pdf about focus groups
an apartment in Soho and one in Greenwich Village (neither of which i could afford but one of my character’s can)
the august yoga with adrienne calendar (this has nothing to do with writing, just me trying to move more)
please note: this does not include the one to eight tabs I usually have open that involve googling *synonym for whatever word i’m overusing*
That’s it from me this week (please read Booth and talk to me about it).
Stay tuned!