What's in a Title?

I just finished reading Shirley Christian's very interesting book, "Before Lewis and Clark". Its subtitle is "the Story of the Chouteaus, the French dynasty that ruled America's frontier". It is the story of the founding and first 75 years or so of St. Louis.

It was published in 2004 which was the 200th anniversary of the Louisiana Purchase (which brought St. Louis to the U.S.) and the start of the Lewis and Clark voyage to the northwest. Clearly, Farrar, Straus and Giroux thought they could capitalize on all of the interest in that expedition, by chosing a name for the book that would make you think that it was about the years before 1804.

Au contraire, as they used to say in French St. Louis. The subtitle is much more in keeping with the text. The Lewis and Clark expedition is discussed in the first third of the book.

Putting this mistitle aside, and not using this blog entry to retell the story of the founding of St. Louis, the following facets of the book were most interesting. First, the degree in which fur trapping was THE reason for the location of St. Louis, and the mainstay of its early economy. Second, how fur trapping worked, through bargaining with individual groups of Native Americans, and through sole trappers who roamed parts unknown. Third, the difficulties in getting the furs to market, and particularly the problems with transportation and the dangers of long distance travel. Fourth, the degree to which St. Louis really was a French city, with the senior Chouteaus, including those who lived well into the 1800s, never learning English. Fourth, the complex relationships between the trappers, the settlers and the Indians, and the problems between one Indian tribe and another, and how all of this impacted on, among other things, the economy of St. Louis. Fifth, the ease with which some of the Chouteaus got along with many of the Indians, including learning the languages. Sixth, the attitudes towards Indians of while St. Louisans, and their attitudes towards blacks and slavery. Seventh, not only the sexual alliances between Indians and whites, but the length and depths of some of these relationships. Seventh, the numbers of children born to each family, and the numbers of children who died, as well as the prevelance generally of what would today be considered very early death. Finally, how difficult travel was and how long it took to get from one place to another.

On this last point, in the early years going from St. Louis to, say, Washington, meant a boat down the Mississippi to New Orleans, and boat from New Orleans to Baltimore, and a coach from Baltimore to Washington.

Even as late as the 1850s, when I would have thought that transportation had been much improved, such a journey could prove an adventure. Although not taking as long as the route I just described, the five day trip from St. Louis to Washington went like this:

"Leaving St. Louis, he traveled up the Mississippi to Galena, then spent the night in a stage coach to arrive at Rockford the next day at 2 p.m. He got a train to Chicago, arriving safely despite the fact that the car jumped the tracks while taking a curve too fast. He took the night train to Detroit, the " the fast steamer May Flower for Buffalo......next morning we were in Buffalo and it was my [Henry A. Chouteau, age 20] intention to stop a day and go to the Falls, but as it was raining I went straight for the cars for Albany. This train goes at the rate of thirty miles an hour....."

After an overnight stop at a hotel in Albay, he took a steamer down the Hudson, getting to New York City at 5 the next afternoon..

Curses, foaled again

So, today we saw three foals. One was born yesterday. All three nursing. We also saw a 20 year old arthritic horse (former race horse, Mountain John), swim three laps around a pool. And we saw a very large number of alpacas, ranging from black to white, with all shades of tan, brown and grays.

Where were we? In Upperville, of course, at the annual hunt show. We did not go to see the former Kentucky Derby winner, or Paul Mellon's barn, or the other stables that were open for inspection.

But it was all very interesting, and western Loudoun and eastern Fauquier Counties are quite beautiful.

Oh, yes, three cheers for the beef burritos with red sauce at Anita's in Chantilly. (actually, I didn't eat the burrito)

Why Am I Always Changing Light Bulbs? (one cent)

Because I have 115 of them in my house. Homebuyers, beware.

Book of the Day (12 cents)

Perhaps I should give you all an idea of the books that I buy for under $4 several times a week.

Today's is a coffee table sized book entitled "From Semaphore to Satellite", and it was published in 1965 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the International Telecommunications Union, in Geneva. It was signed by Gerald Gross, the Secretary-General of the Union, and inscribed to Francis de Wolf, whom Gross says is the guy who got him to Geneva in the first place. There is also a brief letter from Gross to de Wolf, or ITU stationery. On ABEbooks, there is one signed copy of this book for sale for about $70.

If you are interested in the history and international spread of the telegraph (first suggested by Robert Hooke in 1726), and want to see a lot of black and white historic photos, this may just be the book for you. Gross was the Secretary General from 1960 - 1965 and is the only American ever to hold this position.

The ITU is of course still going strong, having expanded its scope beyond the telegraph. It is now a part of the United Nations.

Initial Reactions (ten cents)

Some time ago, I wrote a post about the decision of the Washington Post not to use the term "PG County" anymore, and always to refer to it by its full name. My posting was about the inconsistency in the use and acceptability of initials or abbreviations in place names (e.g., Phillly and Indy OK, Minnie or Millie not). Since that time, I have spoken to a number of residents of Prince George's County, most of whom call it PG, and think that the disputation played out in the Post was nonsense.

Now comes that terrific ad for St. Louis ribs that I see on television (actually, the ad could be better because I have no idea what brand or chain they are advertising, as I think about it), where the one young man says "These are just like they eat in St. Louie" and his companion says "People who live in St. Louis do not call it St. Louie", to which the other answers: "Yes, they doooooooo".

All of this came to mind again this morning as I was reading through the Washington Examiner which had a brief story about Deborah Palfrey, the now notorious and/or celebrated (take your pick) D.C. Madam. She says that she would rather be called the Washington Madam, and not the D.C. Madam. When asked why, she responded "it's a little classier". One more country heard from.

The best quote in the article came from her lawyer, the man with the name that sounds like a school for sick people: Montgomery Blair Sibley. When Palfrey announced that she was a supporter of Hillary Clinton, she added that she "hated" Bush. Sibley's reaction: "there goes your chance for a pardon".

Ciechanowski (11 cents)

Jan ciechanowski was the Polish ambassador to the United States during World War II, and wrote a book published in 1947 called "Defeat in Victory". I did not read the entire book, but only the first and last few chapters. The implication was clear. At the start of the war, Roosevelt was very supportive of the Polish government in exile. At the end of the war, there was the Yalta conference where a very sick Roosevelt failed to stand up to Stalin with regard to elected governments in Eastern Europe. The Soviets appoint a government beholden to the USSR and no one kicks and screams. Defeat in victory.

I Wish I Liked It (11 cents)

The concert at Epiphany Church today was by a soprano, a flute and a piano. Perhaps not my favorite combination, and there was nothing in the program that particularly attracted me. Ein Lied von Bach, and works of Philippe Gaubert, Roger Quilter, Edouard Lippe and Sir Henry R. Bishop (talk about names that didn't ring a bell). I debated whether I should just take advantage of the warm weather, but decided to enter the church, find a nice seat, and take out the book of short stories by Albert Moravia that I have been reading at the Tuesday concerts.

I thought that this was one of the weaker concerts. I was not attracted to the solists voice, I thought that the floutist was not up to professional standards. The piano was ok. On a number of flute/soprano pieces, I thought more practice might have helped. I had a hard time believing they were playing the same piece for the most part.

But....

no one left the concert, and

there was quite a bit of applause.

So I wish I liked it, because it looked like everyone else did.

Odd Exhibit at the Phillips Collection (24 cents)

Called "Moving Pictures: American Art and Early Film", it contains numerous video screens showing short films from about 1895-1905, and next to them pieces of art which depict similar scenes. For example, an early movie taken showing Niagara Falls from up close (one of the better films, I thought), next to some paintings from about the same time of Niagara Falls. Most of the films were not that interesting. Yes, they were very early films, but....... And the art work got lost, I thought, because they were no more than there to support the video screens.

I did like the film of Niagara Falls (and it was up close), and a liked even more perhaps a short film of a storm at sea taken from the deck of a ship, with the waves looking very forboding. I also liked the New York street scenes. Even though you know it was so, it seems strange to see all of these large brick and concrete buildings, with no motor vehicles, only horse drawn buggies and carriages, and a lot of pedestrians. And, what was most noticeable about the overdressed pedestrians (all with hats of course)? They weren't fat. None of them.

Worth seeing? Well, anything is worth seeing, I guess. And it is interesting to see that some of the same things that the movie makers were focusing on (this is before films began to show stories and plot lines) were the same things that painters were painting. Worth seeing twice? Not at all.

The Trouble With Studying History (1 cent)

From Lee Meriwether's "My Yesteryears", writing about the death of his ancestor, Meriwether Lewis. Lewis died in 1809, only a few years after the end of the Lewis and Clark exploration of the northwest. He writes:

"In October, 1809, Lewis died either by his own hand or by that of a murderer. The suicide theory rests upon a letter written by Jefferson, but facts discovered later point plainly to murder. Lewis was on his way with important papers for Jefferson. He planned to go by boat down the Mississippi to New Orleans an thence by sea to Baltimore, but at Memphis were alarming rumors of war with England. Actually war did not come until 1812, but even as early as 1809 impressment of Americans into the British navy made many men believe war was imminent.....Several days out from Memphis, Lewis and a friend named Neeley, and a Negro servant who accompanied him, plunged into the wilderness....The first cabin he found belonged to a man named Grinder. Lewis stopped there for the night, and next morning he was found dead in bed, a bullet hole through his head. Grinder was gone, and with him Lewis' watch, money and papers. Many months later Grinder was caught in North Carolina, brought back to Tennessee and tried for murder; he had Lewis' papers; he, formerly almost a pauper, had bought land and slaves. He could not explain his sudden riches; the circumstantial evidence that he had killed and robbed Lewis was strong. but no one had witnessed the deed, and Mrs. Grinder swore Lewis had killed himself. And so the jury's verdict was "Not Guilty".

"In those days, weeks, even months were required for news from the wilderness to reach Washington. Long before he knew, if he ever knew about Grinder's disapearing with Lewis' money and papers, Jefferson had received Mrs. Grinder's suicide story, and had written the letter which has come down to our own day, stating that Meriwether Lewis died a suicide. Had Jefferson known all the facts, he would not have written that letter."

This book was written in 1942.

From a book written over sixty years later, "Before Lewis and Clark" by Shirley Christian:

"A few days before Pierre started down the Mississippi, Meriwether Lewis had set out from St. Louis to go down the Mississippi and get a ship for Washington, intending to defend himself with regard to his use of government moneys......Shortly before his departure, Lewis spent a day with William Clark.....Clark wrote his brother Jonathan that......his friend was in a great deal of distress, 'ruined' by the government's decision to protest some of his expenditures....by the time Meriwether Lewis had sailed from St. Louis, he was in a deranged state, twice trying to kill himself, according to the boat crew. At Chickawaw Bluffs, the future Memphis, the fort commander, Captain Gilbert Russell, put him under a suicide watch.......But Lewis passed an anguished evening, and in the early morning hours of October 11 he took out his pistols and shot himself, first with one, then the other. When the owner of the house heard the shots, she summoned the two servants, but they arrived too late to save Lewis. Death came shortly after daybreak."

Nothing about Grinder, or a murder trial.

Which, if either, story is correct?

A Surprising Gap in my Education (29 cents)

I went to a noontime slide lecture, held at the Renwick Museum, yesterday. The topic was the Bauhaus Workshops, and the presentation was given by by Ursula Ilse-Neuman. I am not sure who she is because I missed the introduction, but she is a curator somewhere, I believe, and a scholar. She speaks with a slight German accent, but with the speed of a French bullet train. If you blink, she has left you in the dust.

This made her a little hard to follow, as did the fact that she had a lot to say within her allotted 45 minutes of time. I believe that her speed exhausted many in the audience of about 100. There were zero questions at the end, perhaps because of a desire for a little space and some fresh air.

But the presentation was very informative and quite well organized.

Here is where my education failed me. I guess I knew nothing about Bauhaus. I knew it was a German movement, I knew it was a between the wars movement. I knew it involved Walter Gropius and Mies van der Rohe. I know a Bauhaus inspired building when I see it (usually). And I thought I knew that Bauhaus was a modernistic, but pared down industrial inspired architectual movmement.

I had no idea that the Bauhaus was a school that lasted for fourteen years (first in Weimar, then in Dessau and finally in Berlin), until Hitler shut it down (with great publiciity) in 1934, that it involved an extraordinary number of well known twentieth century artists (as teachers or instructors, as students, or as both), or that it was reconstituted in Chicago (where it was renamed and now forms part of the Illinois Institute of Techonology, and inspired Black Mountain College in the Piedmont region of North Carolina (also home to an array of famous twenty century artists) which closed in 1957, and also had influence over artistic teaching in Northern California.

I now know that, in addition to architecture (which hardly was mentioned yesterday), Bauhaus involved painting, fabrics and weaving, pottery, metal working and jewelry, furniture, and sculpture. That it was a holistic program, designed to blend the working of craftsmen with the working of artists, and on an equal footing (it was in a sense a socialist, or at least social democratic movement), and that the major item of contention within the movement itself was how much focus should be put on industrial design (i.e., items that can be manufactured), rather than on individualistic pieces of art. It spread in both directions. For example, in the U.S.A., Chicago was more industrially oriented (and techologically), while Black Mountain seemed to be more individualistic.

Josef and Anni Albers, Marcel Breuer, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Andreas Feininger all taught at Bauhaus. Josef Albers was a student, as was (at Black Mountain) both deKoonings, Cy Twombly, Robert Rauschenberg, Jacob Lawrence, Franz Kline and others.

Oh, yes, one more rather important point. The Bauhaus style inspired some extraordinary works in all of the categories mentioned above, much of which is now quite familiar. Only when you see it context with the Bauhaus philosophy, however, does it all (to my untrained) eye, all fit together in surprising ways.

A bit too early, perhaps, but funny

The cartoon this morning in the Washington Examiner. Jerry Falwell, who died yesterday, is standing before (presumably) St. Peter, who says to him: Here we take people regardless of race, gender or sexual preference. Fallwell has a terrified look on his face and responds: oh my, do you mean I'm in hell?

One Movie, Three Plays and a Good Meal (5 cents)

One of the weirdest movies I have seen is, in English, "One Hand Can't Clap", a Czech film shown at the Avalon. What is it about? Is it about the suave vegetarian Prague restaurater who, in the cellar of his restaurant has another, even fancier restaurant, where he serves exotic protected species? Or his wife, who is against anything having to do with eating or wearing animals, who insists that their house have neither TV nor computer, who homeschools their kids and obviously knows nothing about her husbands underground proclivities. Or the two children, one a pre-teen boy who dresses like a girl and the other a pre-teen girl, who attempts to murder her brother? Or the host of the TV show, which is a voyeur's version of Candid Camera, or his daughter who has been embarrassed on the show irretrievably. Or the fellow who goes to jail for transporting, without knowing it, endangered species for the restaurant, who gets out of prison and who, in spite of having a good heart, is befriended by a more mischievous ne'er-do-well, and who meets the daughter of the TV host, and who seeks to find out why these birds were coming into the country. Oh, yes, it is a comedy.

Much less weird are "Either/Or" and "Shylock" at Theater J. "Either/Or is of course Tom Keneally's story of Kurt Gerstein, the German Nazi who decides that his party is not always in the right, but who wants to be in the thick of things to act as a witness, but for whom the killing of Jews and others is too much. He becomes an unsuccessful whistle blower, but his papers are presented to the victorious English, although Gerstein is either murdered or commits suicide in prison before any trial can be held. Well acted, well written. But is it the best material for a play? Somehow, it would make a better movie, I think.

As to Arnold Wesker's "Shylock", a reworking of the story found in "Merchant of Venice", starring Theodore Bikel, in a modified stage reading formulation, it starts out very well, with a sympathetic Shylock, good friend to Antonio, and for whom the bond of a pound of flesh is meant to be a joke. But when Antonio's ships are lost at sea, even though all government parties are willing to forget the entire deal, Antonio and Shylock agree that the precedent would be potentially dangerous to the fragile Jewish community and insist on going through with the bargain. Of course, it does not happen because of the non-lawyer discovering the legal problems with the contract. The play deteriorates, I thought, in the second act. I don't think Wesker knew how to end it. I think he stuck too close the story line, something he did not need to do.


Before Shylock, we ate at Merkado. Very nice supper. Fish all around.

We also went to Theater J for the Friday afternoon reading of "The Milliner" by Susan Glass. An English playwright it is loosely (very loosely) the story of her grandfather, for whom English exile during the war did not end his love of Berlin, to which he returned. I think that he found out that while he remained a Berliner and always will, he was clearly no longer the German he thought he was.

Seemed like old times.

A beautiful Sunday afternoon. The ballpark. Nobody in the stands. I thought I was back at Sportsman's Park watching the Browns.

But something's wrong. Something's different? What could it be?

Oh, now I see.

The home team won.

Abraham: father of us all?

I had wanted to read Bruce Feiler's "Abraham" from the day it came out. Not that Feiler is a great scholar, or anything, but I had read "Walking the Bible", which I found to be an ingenious book. Not one that was profound, and in fact I thought that some of his statements and conclusions were wrong (or at least arguable), but the concept of exploring Israel and Sinai with the Torah text in mind, and doing so on three levels (the text itself, the condition of the biblical sites today, and using biblical historians and archeologists as guides) was very effective. I thought that it would be a very good introduction for those who had traveled to Israel, but not thought about things in these terms. [In fact, perhaps Moshe Pearlman's book, "Footsteps of Moses", wrtten 30 years ago, did much the same thing; I have the book, but have only looked at the pretty pictures].

When he put out "Abraham", which dealt not only with Judaism, but with Islam and Christianity, and which dealt with a broader geographic area, I had great hopes.

Unfortunately, the book is not very good. It (like the first book) does not go beneath the surface, his travels are much less extensive than in his earlier book, and his conclusions again seem not always right, and sometimes stretched to make the point.

For example, he says that the three religions all stem from Abraham, but from a different Abraham. The Jews get Abraham who made a covenant with God. The Christians get an Abraham for whom faith is all important. And the Moslems get an Abraham who always submits to God's will. Well, in fact, each of them have an Abraham whose qualities (good or bad) contain all three elements. Feiler's division is handy and seductive, but I do not think that it holds up.

I Missed Three (1 cent)

I missed 3 newspaperboxes in front of Marvelous Market. Total = 955

Cerrado!!

Turning the Page's annual book sale has been advertised that it will close on May 18. Today is May 10. It is "temporarily closed" with a sign that says: check our website for updates. The website says that it closed due to unforeseen circumstances, and more sales will be held later somewhere sometimes, perhaps.

So, I walked two blocks to Sixth and I Historic Synagogue, to see the Roman Vishniac photography exhibit that is open from Monday to Thursday, 12-3. I got there today, a Thursday, at 1. Locked tighter than a drum. No sign, no nothin'.

Cerrado.

848 + 104 = 952 (7 cents)

Number of newspaper boxes on streets and streetcorners between Chevy Chase Circle and K Street. (see April 3 blog)

I Gotta Tell You (25 cents)

I gotta tell you

about Rafael Patai's book, "The Seeds of Abraham"

about our conversations with a beekeeper and a fur trapper at the May fair in Solomon's Island, MD

about our dinner at Sushi Taro, and Michael Dirda's lecture on the writing of Isaac Babel

about Sari Nusseibeh's and Tova Reich's presentations at Politics and Prose

about the concert today at the Church of the Epiphany

about the Flower Mart at the National Cathedral

about the reading of Susan Glass' play "The Milliner" at Theater J

about the opening of Thomas Keneally's "Either/Or" at Theater J

about the delightful movie "Avenue Montaigne" at the Avalon

But when?

Books of the Day (2 cents)

1. The International Spy Museum has occasional noontime book signings and lectures, and I have attended a handful. They are, of course, free, as opposed to the museum which charges a hefty admission (I have never been in the museum).

Yesterday, the speaker was Bill Gertz, Washington Times reporter who concentrates on espionage, and writes from a (whether it is accurate or not) right wing paranoid perspective. His newest book, published last fall, is called "Enemies", not to be confused with the Isaac B. Singer book of the same title.

The books contains a series of chapters, each concentrating on someone spying, or allegedly spying, against America. The premise is "they are out to get us, we are out to stop them, they are competent, and we are not", or something like that.

The stories are all interesting, of course, from Wen Ho Lee (who he believes is guilty as sin), Katrina Leung and her lovers in the American intelligence establishment, spies from Cuba, from North Korea, from everywhere. Are they accurate? I am not sure.

He was written a lot about China: "The only reason they want nuclear weapons is to fight a war with us eventually".

What about Israeli spies? Well, those he thinks are more "friendly spies". You don't want them spying on us, but you also don't want to hurt the Israelis' feelings because we cooperate with them so well. "They are good on human spying; we on electronics", he said.

My own instinct of course is to be very suspicious of Gertz's dogmatic conclusions, but - especially because he is talking about undercover and counterintelligence - I find it hard to dismiss anything he has to say entirely.

2. Leaving the Spy Museum, I walked over to 7th Street. I wanted a place to get a light lunch, and I thought about the cafe at Olson's, a book store. To my surprise, though, every table was filled, and on my way out, I stopped to look over some of the new books. I found a signed copy of Tatyana Tolstaya's new collection of short stories in soft-back (I think perhaps there is no hardcover edition) and bought it. I then took it to Jaleo's where I sat at the bar and had a very nice salad (spinach, cheese, red peppers and walnuts)for less than you pay at Cosi's. I read the first story, "Loves Me, Loves Me Not", told by a precocious 5 year old Leningrader, talking about her French speaking, old and overweight nanny. Which was great. Twenty three more stories to go.

3. We went to see Tova Reich speak about her new book, "My Holocaust" last night at Politics and Prose. Reich has written a satirical book on the commercialization of the Holocaust. Two Polish survivors make a lot of money leading tours through Auschwitz and Birkenau, but one of their daughters has become a nun at the local Carmelite convent. One of the survivors becomes the head of the D.C. Holocaust Museum, and becomes under pressure to expand the museum to cover the "holocausts" of other groups. There is a museum takeover lead by African American Pushkin Jones, of the United Holocausts association. Etc.

Her reading shows that her writing is very clever. She brings up a large number of points that are worthy of discussion and debate. She says that she is against the commercialization of the Holocaust, that there are too many museums and monuments, and that the dead should be permitted to rest in peace. She also believes that the Holocaust is THE Holocaust, and it is a Jewish thing, belonging to no one else.

But wait a minute. Her husband, Walter, was the director of the Holocaust Museum here. And what is this book if not an attempt to capitalize on the commericialization of the Holocaust? Or am I missing something? Perhaps. It could be that she has written "My Holocaust" as the commercialization to end all commercializations. I guess.

Am I being critical? Not at all. I think I'll read the book.

Avraham Burg Last Night at Adas Israel

Avraham Burg is very impressive. His background is impressive, his father having been an Israeli cabinet minister and his maternal grandfather the former chief rabbi of Hebron. He himself has been a cabinet minister, the speaker of the Knesset and the head of the Jewish Agency. He has his share of charisma. His accented English speaking style is punctuated and animated. Because of his religious upbringing, he can bring biblical quotes to whatever is the task at hand. His mind is very agile. And he has a good sense of humor.

He divides the worlds into what appears to be an infinite series of groupings. People who like Jews, people who hate Jews. People are universal thinkers, people who are parochial. People who embrance modernity, and people who shun it. People who say potayto, people who say potahto. People who are part of the problem and people who are part of the solution.

He talks about the Jewish world going into many directions - insular, wordly, observant, humanistic. Some (or all) will succeed, and split further, while some (or all) will fail.

He is on the side of those who favor humanistic values, and universal thinking.

Then there is Israel. While discussing Israel from several aspects, he avoided (perhaps as a result of bad experiences in other American synagogues?) the tough questions, questions that he has written about and been such a lightning rod at home. He did say that the state of Israel's leaders have not treated its Arab neighbors well, and he did say that this was not consistent with Jewish values. (One thing of interest in his remarks was something like: "If you ask any Jew, what makes up Judaism, the answer will always include a reference to treating people well.")

But he did not talk about the ultimate dilemma which has been a focus of his most controversial remarks in Israel: can Israel remain a Jewish state without continuing to maltreat the Arabs, and if it does so, is it really a Jewish state? (He did give a reference to his appearance on an Israeli talk show where he 'debated' several former Gaza settlers and announced that he was not their 'brother'; he was their adversary, and that he only had one sibling, his birth sister. But then later on he addressed the audience talking about their 'brothers and sisters in Israel'.)

And his lecture was noticeably absent on solutions. Particulary at a time when the acting head of the Palestinian parliament gave a Friday talk at a mosque in Sudan, saying that all Jews and all Americans must be annihilated.

He was very good to listen to. He was provocative and hopefully he got some in the audience, who were not used to thinking, to start thinking. But this was not an adverse audience, as it seemed to me that most of the more right wing members of the Congregation did not attend. It was appreciative of his remarks, and (whether it knows it or not), it is looking for leadership on the issue. In the diaspora (a term that Burg thinks has become archaic), he might be able to provide this type of leadership. In Israel, it seems to me that he has come too close (by his march leftward) to becoming the Ramsey Clark of Israel. But perhaps that is too harsh.

I would definitely like to hear him again, and give him a chance to expound on what he said, and move to the next level. Whether, in a discussion rather than a lecture format, he would be effective, I don't know. He may overwhelm any discussion. If not, the discussion would be worth having.

Examples of the humor: What is a conservative? A liberal with teenage daughters? What is the diaspora? Exile, after it has become comfortable.

May 1, 2007 (2 cents)

At the gym for about an hour, reading Raphael Patai's "Seeds of Abraham" while on the elliptical.

To the dry cleaners, taking and picking up.

A bagel with a little orange marmelade and some very good coffee.

The metro to work.

A busy morning.

Lunch with a friend at "The Fourth Estate".

A quieter afternoon.

A meeting with a client in from Florida

The metro again.

A very nice supper at Indique.

Listening to Avraham Burg speak at Adas Israel.

Home.

Descended from the Elephants?

We all know (or at least we all think)that elephants, very social animals, know when they are about to die and, for whatever reason, wander off by themselves to die alone, away from their mates and friends. For humans, this has never been a normal course of action. The perfect death, in fact, is generally idealized as one where you die peacefully and painlessly in your bed surrounded by family.

How to explain, then, the fact that three of the six movies we saw at the DC International Film Festival had its central characters take on the habits of elephants?

First, take "The Education of Fairies", where the Argentinean filmmaker had the mother/wife tell her husband that, for reasons she could not explain, their seemingly perfect marriage was over and that she would have to leave? In fact, we learned at the end of the movie that she had been diagnosed as having a vascular brain disease (a la Senator Tim Johnson) and could die at any minute, or be paralyzed, and she could not inflict that sorrow or responsibility on her husband and (seven or eight year old) son. In fact, she does not leave, either because she is convinced not to, changes her own mind, or does not have the internal strength to carry out her plans. But this is the central dynamic of this excellent movie, around which all other plots and subplots turn.

Then, there was "Le Voyage en Armenie", where the elderly and stubborn Armenian emigrant in Marseilles, in order in part to avoid the surgery that his no longer that young and stubborn cardiologist daughter has arranged form him, and in part to re-unite with his girl friend of 50 (?) years earlier, sneaks out of Marseilles to return to his homeland. He did not tell his daughter or son-in-law, but apparently told his teenage granddaughter who was sworn to secrecy. Now, going to Armenia is not exactly wandering off into the jungle, particularly when there is an old flame waiting for you (and of course we have no idea where our "Fairies" heroine would have gone), but it is abandoning the comfortable if not perfect (in "Fairies" it was both comfortable and perfect) life you have known, to undertake a final journey into terra not quite cognita.

Finally, "My Mexican Shiva". Here, Moises dies in the first scene, but his death is the core of the entire film. He had run off, at an advanced age, with a "shicksa" (perhaps when his wife was still alive; this is what killed her, according to their daughter). But three months before his death, he leaves his new love without saying good-bye or leaving a forwarding address. She believes he has found someone still newer; in fact, he has learned he had a coronary condition, and he simply checked into a hotel. What he did during his last three months is not clear, but he seemed to have avoided his girl friend and his family, although he died dancing at a reunion of his Yiddish Theatre troupe of many years past.

So what is it that sent all three filmmakers in the same direction? It seems to me that running away at this time to face death alone is so counter-instinctual.

I can't imagine that this is to be a trend in film or literature, but I'll keep my eyes open.