Wednesday, July 23, 2008

We tell ourselves stories in order to live: 20 lines of why I love Joan Didion

«During this period I spent what were for me the usual proportions of time in Los Angeles and New York and Sacramento. I spent what seemed to many people I know an eccentric amount of time in Honolulu, the particular aspect of which lent me the illusion that I could any minute order from room service a revisionist theory of my own history, garnished with a vanda orchid. I watched Robert Kennedy’s funeral on a verandah at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Honolulu, and also the first reports from My Lai. I reread all of George Orwell on the Royal Hawaiian Beach, and also I read, in the papers that came one day late from the mainland, the story of Betty Lansdown Fouquet, a 26-year-old woman who put her five-year-old daughter out to die on the center divider of Interstate 5 some miles south of the last Bakersfield exit. The child, whose fingers had to be pried loose from the Cyclone fence when she was rescued twelve hours later by the California Highway Patrol, reported that she had run after the car “for a long time.” Certain of these images did not fit into any narrative I knew.»





Dieser Beitrag ist auf Englisch, doch einiges an der Zeitmauer gibt es auch in der hervorragenden Kultur- und Verwaltungssprache Deutsch zu lesen.

5 comments:

  1. "The child, whose fingers had to be pried loose from the Cyclone fence when she was rescued twelve hours later by the California Highway Patrol, reported that she had run after the car 'for a long time.'"

    Now I love her too. I hope she has a book where she just boils down local news stories to their devastating kernel.

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  2. I am that little girl, my Name is Jody. They did not have to pry my fingers off the fence, I was holding onto the fence because I was trying to kill a stink bug that was coming toword me. when the Officer saw me he stopped traffic so I could come to the center devider to him. I never ran after my Mom amd Step Father. I was told to run accros the freeway and my new Mommy and Daddy would be there waiting for me.
    I am in the process of writing a book now. I see that my story stuck with people and changed there lives, I hope it changed it for the better. I know that the day I was left was the day my life began. The abuse had finely stopped.

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    Replies
    1. I look forward to reading your book. I hope you are doing well.

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    2. I look forward to reading your book. I hope you are doing well.

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  3. I realize this is an old post, but I never forgot this story. I clipped it from the Bakersfield Californian newspaper and shared it at show & tell with my class in 1969. I was in the 6th grade (Noble School) and I hurt so much for this young girl and her brother Jeffrey. Jody, if you ever read this post, I hope you will let us know the name of your book. I would love to read it.
    Julia Daniels, Russell.

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