Monday, May 13, 2019

“...try to write a good life”

A weekend of the sads for me — the first Mother's Day of my life I have been under no obligation to call me mum.

Also this was the weekend we finally finished watching The Americans. Initially I thought myself disappointed with the exposition-heavy finale. Worse, I bitterly resented having my emotions twisted into a pretzel by the gratuitous use of U2.

But the more I brooded over it all the more deeply I understood just how unremittingly bleak the finale was. Days later there is one single scene from that episode, the memory of which is still enough to move me to tears. I can't say more without spoiling it, so I'll reserve further commentary for the end of this post.

*****
“When I was much younger, one of the few prayers/mantras that remained interesting to me was asking God to make my life a work of art. Maybe it was just my way of wondering out loud, If I could write a good song, why not also try to write a good life?”
Linford Detweiler of Over The Rhine movingly discusses his mother-in-law's recent passing, over here. I read it aloud to my wife last night. After I'd hankied away my personal watershed, she asked, “So what are we doing that weekend?”

“Arg . . . commitments, babe. And they don't include Ohio.” Alas. Looks like it should be an incredible — even necessary — gathering.

*****

One of the cruelest pranks I ever played on my mother was to (mis)inform my friends she used the water she boiled weiners in for soup stock. One friend passed this tidbit along to her father. “Those poor kids!” was his response. I was then in my 20s, and realized my mischief had gone too far, but I did not inform my mother of it until many years later. She gave me a pained look, then burst into laughter.

Turns out “Is weiner-water soup stock?” is an actual question. I take full responsibility.

*****

“Why not also try to write a good life?”

Alright, on to The Americans — here come the spoilers.
"That's right, honey: it is soup stock."
Throughout the episode, and particularly during the agonizingly long, final face off with Stan Beeman, I kept thinking, It's not fair — you don't get to get away with this.

On a superficial level Philip and Elizabeth do “get away with it.” But in every way that counts, there is a terrible toll to pay, and the people who made this series did an outstanding job of getting the viewer to mull over the ramifications of everything that's gone on.

The “Jennings” do make it back to Moscow, but there is no doubt for the viewer that these people are little more than used up husks of humanity. And of all the many betrayals they have committed over the years, the worst were to their children who are now utterly without hope of recovering anything meaningful from their parents.

It's a kick in the gut — no parent can watch this without conjuring moments they've wounded their own children. But we're not the Jennings, right? For most of us there is a wider and deeper buffer of grace than Philip or Elizabeth could ever appeal to.

So be good to each other — try to write a good life.

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