Here's what I was telling a friend in a letter today:
I usually go to NYC in September, so since I couldn't do that this year, my son and I read and discussed Vivian Gornick's Odd Woman and the City, and I almost felt that I was there. I liked one passage about Samuel Johnson, which I relate to our times.
"In the 1740's, Samuel Johnson walked the streets of London to cure himself of chronic depression...open sewers, disease, poverty; destitution; lit by smoking torches; men cutting each other's throats in deserted alleys at midnight. It was of this city that Johnson said, "When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life."
Specifically, I relate this to reading the SF Chronicle.
SURREAL SKIES, SURREAL YEAR...Explosive Butte County fire kills 3...Revelation Trump downplayed virus nothing new to most voters...Virus toll passes grim mark...UC Berkeley admissions under fire/Connections, wealth aided underqualified, audit finds...Smoke-taint quandary has wineries in chaos...Flip-flop on Supreme Court...Burglars switch to homes in lieu of tourists' cars...It feels like the end of the world...Evacuatlion scofflaws endanger emergency worker...Census workers in S.F. report delays, chaos...No charges in killing; 2 cops shot in protests...Trump won't commit to peaceful transfer of power...
When a woman is tired of the SF Chronicle, she is tired of life.