Non-Fiction

A Higher Loyalty

Readers, 

This morning I gave myself a little gift: I watched the first episode of Season 2 of the Netflix series Queer Eye. This show fills me joy, and sometimes even stronger emotions. For example, forty five minutes and two cups of coffee into Season 2, I was sitting on my sofa, weeping like a baby, while I watched five gay men and the congregation of a church in the rural south embrace each other. I'm not joking, I was: Weeping. Like. A. Baby. 

Now, I know you're all waiting for the dazzling segue way here: what do the heartwarming LGBTQ-powered makeover show, Queer Eye, and the autobiography of former FBI director James Comey, A Higher Loyalty, have to do with each other? Well, here's my answer: they both gave me hope.

Readers, this is not an easy time to be an American. Living abroad, as I do now, it's hard to express to the people around me the feeling of dread that I experience when I watch the news. I think many Americans have begun to live in this state of fear. I'm afraid that the country I love and believe in, the country I am deeply loyal to, is being torn apart. I'm afraid that the goodness at the core of the American philosophy is eroding, that we the people have failed each other in some fundamental way. It's like seeing a friend slowly succumb to alcoholism. 

James Comey's autobiography, A Higher Loyalty, chronicles his experience watching this first hand. We all know how this story ends: with Jim Comey, scandal-beset and stranded in LA, receiving the news that he has just been fired from the FBI by President Trump via a news broadcast. But where does that story start? How did he get there? What decisions did he make along the way? 

I came into this book with an open mind. Like many, I was skeptical about the handling of the Clinton emails, but I was also sympathetic to Comey based on how he had been treated by the current administration. I thought he seemed like an OK guy whenever I saw him on TV. Now, you could say that I'm naive, or partisan, or easily persuaded, and that may all be true. But it doesn't change this fact: reading A Higher Loyalty has me absolutely convinced that James Comey is more than an OK guy. As he guides you through his years fighting the Mafia, untangling the web of NSA surveillance and government-sponsored enhanced interrogation, there is a single through-line. For better or worse, Jim Comey shows us an example of what it means to live a principle-driven life. 

Readers, America is a nation founded on principles. It has not always lived up to those principles, but nonetheless it is a country whose inception was based around a creed, a set of truths, held to be self-evident by all those who call themselves American. A Higher Loyalty explores what it means to live your life according to a creed. To dedicate yourself to the service of your principles, come hell or high water. I respect and admire that, even if I don't always like the outcomes. It's so easy to live without rules, to skate by without ever really having to think about what it is you stand for, and who you take yourself to be. Because of this, it's easy to make decisions selfishly, and justify the principles retrospectively. Reading A Higher Loyalty gave me two things: (1) hope that there are principled people in government, and that they are fighting the good fight, and (2) a reminder that principles are important, thinking about them, living them, sacrificing for them. 

But what about Queer Eye? Good question readers. Here's the thing about principles, they only exist in the abstract. You need people and situations to give them meeting. Like, for example, putting five gay men in the heart of bible-belt, rural south, a territory notorious for rendering great wrongs against the queer community. Switching the setting of Queer Eye to communities around Atlanta for the reboot of the program has fundamentally altered the program. When all the hair and remodeling is set aside, the show, for brief moments, becomes a powerful vehicle driving forward the process of reconciliation. In these moments the people on the show set aside long-held principles in favor of relationships. And it's messy: you can see the anger on Bobby's face put there by the mere thought of the church, you can see Antoni burst into tears as a woman recites Psalm 139. These are hurts that run deep. And so they should. But maybe they can also be healed. So Queer Eye gives me hope for America in a different way: it makes me hope that we the people might be able to listen to each other, and figure out a path to reconciliation. 

James Comey is no wizard of prose, but his simple, straightforward style is imposing and at time gestures to the grand. Here he is, hitting home his central theme, "Policies come and go. Supreme Court justices come and go. But the core of our nation is our commitment to a set of shared values that began with George Washington - to restraint and integrity and balance and transparency and truth." 

 

 

The Diary of a Bookseller

Readers, 

Unpredictable weather in Melbourne this weekend + mild illness combined for a good reading climate. Used the time for The Diary of a Bookseller by Shuan Bythell, and to revamp this blog, obviously. 

The Diary of a Bookseller was provided to me, in hard-copy, by my Mother, last weekend. She presented it on the first day of her three day visit with the following recommendation, "Heard a radio broadcast with this guy on Radio New Zealand. I'm so excited to read this. Can you read it fast so that I can have it?" I offered to let her keep it, seeing as she had just bought it. "No, no. I want YOU to read it. But then bring it to me." 

So I complied, and (as always) Mother is right. "This guy" had me engrossed all weekend. The premise is this: one day, fifty-something-year-old Shaun, the owner of the largest (second-largest?) second-hand bookstore in Scotland, begins to chronicle his life. Said life is primarily composed of interactions with unsavoury customers, many-a-trip to far-off homesteads where desultory book collections are valued by Shaun, usually to the financial disappointment of those wanting to cast them off; unpredictable run-ins and late night drinks with his enigmatic shop clerk, Nicky; and daily till totals which leave you in no doubt that, for Shaun, this is a labour of love, not money. 

I wanted to start the new website with this book for a reason: Shaun is a lover of books, and a lover of the people in his community (though he tries, repeatedly, to convince you that he's a curmudgeon). Reading his book reminded me how important those things are in my own life. As he winds through the back-roads of rural Scotland, or entertains the various people in his small town, I was thinking about my own home town in New Zealand and my old life there. It feels very far from the world of Excel and Powerpoint, which I now occupy, and to which I must return, for better or worse, tomorrow morning. It is a testament to Shaun's writing that this book is at once funny, inspiring and brutally honest. Would I trade places with Shaun? Probably not. Do I admire him? Definitely.

Fortunately, my quest for my own purpose in life (yeah, I know), took a turn for the better. Upon reading this book two things happened: (1) I started a running list of things that I love and things I'm afraid of, which feels like a step in the right direction, (2) at a brunch with a wide-ranging group of Melbournians, I brought up this new list of mine and Shaun's book, which led to a fascinating discussion and reminded me that, very occasionally, people really do want to engage on the big topics in life. 

So here's to Shaun, for doing what I might only ever dream to do, and for making me laugh out loud in my apartment. Here's one of his best jokes, which sums up the book, and Shaun's tone, far more succinctly than I can: "A customer at 11.15 a.m. asked for a copy of Far from the Maddening Crowd. In spite of several attempts to explain that the book's title is actually Far from the Madding Crowd, he resolutely refused to accept that this was the case... Despite the infuriating nation of this exchange, I ought to be grateful: he has given me an idea for the title of my autobiography..."