No nesting. You are the nest. No wind, no earthquake, no fire; Only still small stirring within. More motion, no fledgling— Only slippery sharp shards shattered below. Quiet. Only stillness will bear you To the fullness of time.
In director Todd Field’s Little Children, adapted from Tom Perrotta’s best-selling novel, Kate Winslet plays Sarah, an intelligent, expensively educated woman who is raising a preschool daughter in the suburbs. Her husband, Richard (Gregg Edelman), has apparently lost sexual interest in her; up in his study he amuses himself with photos of an Internet seductress known as Slutty Kay.
When I’m reading a joke out loud from a new joke book, I hear my voice start to falter, from laughter, almost to weep, from laughter, the way my sister’s voice did as a child or a woman, especially if somebody made a bathroom joke; and my father’s voice did, when he wasn’t just poking fun at someone, when he found something really funny; slapstick got him laughing that way, sometimes. A laughter beyond words, maybe beyond grief. As I hear myself laughing like them, with them, I say: a laughter beyond death.
I made a weekend visit to an Amish community in northern Indiana just days after the funerals of the Amish schoolgirls shot in a Pennsylvania schoolhouse. I happened to pass a schoolyard outside a one-room schoolhouse where a dozen or so Amish children were playing and staring out through the fence. It gave me chills.
Bill Haslam, Republican governor of Tennessee, recently vetoed a bill that would have made the Bible the official state book. Haslam is a Christian who says his favorite authors are the popular Christian writers Philip Yancey and Eugene Peterson. The governor said the nation’s founders “recognized that when the church and state were combined, it was the church that suffered in the long run.” Treating the Bible as a cultural artifact trivializes it, he argued. The two Republican sponsors of the bill said they would try to override the veto, which can be done with a mere majority of votes in the two chambers of the state legislature (Los Angeles Times, April 17).