A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

Despite the fact that I have stated many times a book longer than two hundred pages suffer from sufficient editing, I love Dave Egger's A heartbreaking work of Staggering Genius, and its 416 pages. In fact, I wouldn't mind it being longer. Luckily, this time (my first time reading the book in its original language) I was the happy owner of a second edition that has a postscript; Mistakes We Knew We Were Making is a must-read too. (At least for those among us who enjoyed the first fifty pages of the book.)

The more I write, the more I know about how hard it is to piece something together which is well-crafted and interesting. AHWOSG is both, and plenty more. The memoir starts when Dave Eggers is 21; both his parents die of cancer, within months of each other, and Dave gets custody of his younger brother Toph, who's 8. They quickly move from Chicago to San Francisco, where we follow their struggles; finding a place to live, schools, jobs, not to mention structure and meaning.

The book is full of thoughts and questions important to me, and I would guess for many in my (or any) generation, about how difficult it can be when one feels conflicted; about being original and authentic, about feeling like we have experienced something no one else can understand, but still crave the security of being part of a group, one of many, or at least find someone who understands.

The way he writes about death (in all its aspects), his relationship with the opposite sex, his role as a young "parent", the way he sees his role in the world; written with insight, honesty, mixed with both criticism, and self-criticism, it puts me on the spot as well. The way he describes sorrow and fear; how it becomes a part of his life, and then his everyday, help to make my own reactions transparent. Somehow his story, in many ways very different from my own, make me feel like we are not alone in dealing with the things we find hardest. On top of all this it is one of the funniest books I know.

(I have serious trouble choosing favourites, but) AHWOSG is my favourite book. I was pretty sure about this the first time I read it, and it turns out that the second read is even better. Though my interest in the book can be explained by the literary qualities (for someone who writes it is definitively an interesting read), on a more personal note I just feel like the book has a lot of heart. I think it shines through every part of the story, making it unforgettable, and though the title is not chosen without (what I see as) a touch of Eggers' warm sense of humor, the book lives up to its title.

Both Ways Open Jaws

I instantly loved the video of Too Insistent. Not only do I find Olivia Merilahti one of the most beautiful women alive, I am also drawn to the aesthetics of the video. That the song is good too, of course helps.

When I first heard The Dø's newest album, Both Ways Open Jaws, it was not as instant a hit with me as their first (though back then that was only true for the first half of the album). I was pretty sure it wouldn't turn out to be the great listen A Mouthful was, and still is. But after listening to it only once, before I went hiking a couple of weeks back, it seemed I was already somewhat hooked. When we got to Jotunheimen we were met with this piece of information: it has rained here since July 3rd. Less than an hour into the hike the refrain of Slippery Slope had already become the fitting soundtrack of the trip. The lyric is not very complex, but easy to remember, and in a song to meditate on while walking that is exactly what you need.

Slippery slippery slippery slippery slope
And so on and so forth.

The song, and its video, remind me of seeing them in concert. Unlike the first video, I am not very attracted to this one, it seems too directed, too imitated, but I know how amazing the Dø can be live. In October of 2008 I saw them at Blå in Oslo, after A Mouthful was released; a gigantic drum set dominated the stage, and they danced around it like it was a bonfire. A bonfire of beautiful noice. They made us dance, made us scream for more, and then they sat down, asked us to come closer, and sang gentle harmonies. Both Ways Open Jaws has the same range of noisy fun, clever lyrics, catchy melodies and gentle harmonies.

Come closer to the bonfire and set yourself down.


And get up for some bohemian dances!

And if you ever get the chance to see The Dø live, take it!

New kind of life

A crime author once said that he never wrote about actual events, because real life often is so extreme that when reading about it in a book no one would believe it possible. The terrible events in Oslo and at Utøya nearly three weeks ago became a reminder that unbelievable things happen, unthinkable deeds are being carried out. But even when it comes to life's positive parts I find it true - though I've always thought myself quite imaginative (and writing a novel there's no doubting I believe in the power of day dreaming/fiction), during the last months I've done things I thought I'd never do. I find that both an important lesson, and the greatest thing about life, that there is always more; more options, leading to more adventures, and more amazing experiences. With every broken heart, Rilo Kiley sings; we should become more adventures, and I try to live by that.

Some of these things I've not done before because I was too afraid, some just because. I'd never imagined myself getting a tattoo (just because). But I've always needed reminders, even for the most important things, as I think it is easy to lose perspective and let the wrong things stay in focus; for years I've put up post-its on my walls, notes on my hands, reminders on my phone, telling me to dance, breath, live, dream, so I guess it was just a matter of time. (For me, the tattoo symbolizes many things, one is that it resembles a boat (if you're pretty far away from my arm, squinting your eyes and add some goodwill, that is). I am that boat, metaphorically speaking.)

But there's also the being too afraid - past decisions that I now understand were primarily fear driven. I have read two important, life changing books this year, How to be an existentialist: or how to get real, get a grip and stop making excuses is one of them. It made me realize something important: That I don't believe fear is something we can ever get rid of completely - it is a part of being human. I now see all my fears as a response to either of the aspects that our human condition implies. For sure, they can be scary, but they can also be... not scary. And besides, we can't do much about them, so we might as well take them into account. To list some; a basic fear of death, a lack of control in many of life's circumstances, the fact that we can always choose the way we respond to them (scary, but also empowering, if you ask me), then the scary thought that no one has ment any of this, meaning anything can happen, and we might not be able to ever make sense of it all. Not to mention my own role - seemingly as important and unimportant as yours; though I know I have been important to many people, if I die tomorrow, I know they have a choice to move on, and be happy, in the future. (And I hope they will choose that.) When I fear something now, I trace it back to these basic conditions, and then I think 'ah, well, you're just afraid of how unimportant you are?' or 'oh, you're just afraid of dying?'. Makes sense, and it's a legitimate fear. But what you gonna do about it?

I believe we have to choose a meaning of our own, and I want to be content. Which is not a wish with a static need; sometimes I want to go traveling, sometimes I want to see my family back home, and so I need to check in with myself quite often to know that I am sailing in the right direction. Sometimes my long-term and short-term wishes are conflicted, but as long as I question why I choose what I choose, I am pretty sure I am heading where I want to, or at least in that general direction. To find my way, there are some things I make sure I steer away from; I know that I will not be content if I let my fear of being unimportant steer even a little of my pursuit of happiness, towards the dangerous underwater rocks, by the name of trying to be "important". Or if I let my fear of death stop me from traveling; we all know flying is less dangerous than driving a car, but airplanes tend to remind me of how frail life is, and my fear can feel significant, important, even foretelling.

However, once I started thinking differently about life, and its basic conditions, I found it impossible not to admit these strong emotions simply as fear, and how I have let them stop me in the past. I don't think I am more afraid than the next person, but I am very aware of my fears now, and for me admitting them was the first step towards not having them stop me anymore, from leading the life I've dreamed of. I believe I have always been free, and looking back I regret some of the things I have freely chosen for myself. Now that I am aware, both of my free choice and my fear, I can no longer choose to let fear be my captain (or is map reader a better metaphor? I'm sure you're getting the gist of it anyway, but if you're not, don't be afraid to ask!). I now choose where I want to go, and what I want to do, blowing a positive wind into my own sails; though they're still there, and probably always will be, the waves of fear cannot as easily get me out of balance.

Fighting my fears by doing what scares me the most (yeah, it is the only way) has made this an amazing summer. There's the small things; like wearing shorts, though pale as ghost, the summer bringing a gradual change, going from ghost to boiled lobster to tan like a... well, still quite pale, but happy wearing shorts. Eating and drinking whatever new I come across, despite, and because, there is no guaranty it will taste good or familiar. And swimming whenever I get the chance, though afraid of sharks (and other, unknown sea creatures). Sharks in Croatia? And what about Norway? Lakes? Come on, that's not very logic! But logic is not what fear is about, and fighting fears is hence not a logical, analytical exercise, it's a hands-on, practical battle, and sometimes you need to throw yourself in the water without knowing its temperature, depth or content.

And then there's the bigger decisions; like spending a month alone in Berlin, and traveling alone for the days in between meeting up with friends, here and there. These are things I thought I'd never do, but secretly dreamed about for a long time. I've always known I'm content in my own company, but I used to fear how scared I could become when it gets dark, and I am alone in a place far from home. Home... I've never really felt at home anywhere, it has always been about being close to certain people. Upon leaving London in March, after thinking of it (and the people) as my home for seven months, looking for another home seemed urgent. And for the first time discussion arouse whether it is better to make people or cities our home, or if it's even possible; and what about hobbies? Jobs? Could that be an option? Since then I've come to the conclusion that if I want to be really content, and exercise my freedom in a healthy way, I can't keep looking for an external home, I need to find peace of mind; a quiet place within, and the balance to ensure that the boat that is me will be safe no matter what storms I encounter, no matter if I am at open sea, traveling alone, or traveling with fellow boat friends close to the shore line. Though my days of looking for a home mainly in others are over, I feel lucky knowing I have safe havens all over the world; wherever I have friends or family, there I find places I can be myself, and in that sense feel at home.

The month before I went to Berlin, I was in Oslo, and one sunny afternoon I sat reading at the dock, when a friend came biking by. He's one of these people that you only run into; it seems to be the easiest way to get a hold of people like that, but when you do it's great to see him, and since last he's quit school, is writing a novel, and now lives on a boat. After a couple of hours of good conversation you have to leave because you're late (again), when he grabs your arm and says; I have a book for you. I got it back just a couple of weeks ago, from someone who borrowed it years ago, and I thought "I have to find someone who needs to read this". And then I thought, "no, someone who needs to read this will find us". And that's you.
That's how I got my hands on Become what you are. A collection of writings about Eastern philosophy, for Westerns. On the back it reads: "Life exists only at this very moment, and in this moment it is infinite and eternal. For the present moment is infinitely small; before we can measure it, it has gone, and yet it exists forever. . . . You may believe yourself out of harmony with life and its eternal Now; but you cannot be, for you are life and exist Now." The metaphysical aspects, often conveyed far from our everyday language, made it a challenging read. But I still warmly recommend it, as it is packed with things you'll probably intuitively recognize, after reading some pages. Some sentences twice, but still. I don't know about you, but I've often felt out of harmony, both with life and its eternal Now, and I needed a reminder that I am not.

Looking for peace of mind, that essential inner balance, spending a month alone in Berlin; getting a routine of daily yoga, getting up early, writing and reading, was perfect. In fact, Berlin was many times better than I could have imagined it to be. There were even days I felt in touch with both life and its eternal Now, at the same time! I know what you're thinking; I manage to do yoga daily because I am so zen all the time! No, that's obviously not the case... I mainly do it because I've forced a habit (for me, that seems to be the best way to get into any good habit) on my body, so that when I am lazy and don't do my routine, I feel it - after two days without, my body will tell me that it is not happy. Yoga provides a balance that feels essential, but I don't go into meditation mode and stay there. It's not like I am listening to Pan Flute Music the rest of the day. Instead, the balance keep me content with being all of this human that I am. Quite often, luckily, it involves listening to chaotic, energetic, impulsive, creative music.

A week before leaving the German capital I discovered tUnE-yArDs album w h o k i l l. Leaving Berlin ment less time to listen to music, but some songs of hers have been the soundtrack of my travels none the less, her beats in the back of my head, her lyrics on the tip of my tongue. The first two songs of the album that got stuck in my head were My Country - I was still in Berlin when I was biking, humming, drumming the beat on the steering wheel, singing and re-singing the only part of the song I remembered;
The worst thing about living a lie
is just wondering when they'll find out


and You Yes You - again biking, humming, drumming, singing;
If home is where the heart is baby
Then my home is inside you
I don’t need a linen room of diamonds
Yeah a chicken shed will do

Throw your money on the ground and leave it there
You, yes, you

tUnE-yArDs is now officially on the list of bands I want to see live.

Though days of solitude and writing dominated my time in Berlin, I met some great people already before I started the "real" traveling. And I've realized (the now obvious) that for me one of the great things about traveling is meeting people. Spending six extra hours on a delayed train from Prague to Budapest is not that terrible when sharing train compartment with three entertaining and friendly Brits. Getting your towel stolen in a bath in Budapest, mine the oldest and most worn out of the three towels on the bench, is okay when both your friends lend you 1/3 of their. A strange man wanting to show you his penis when you are trying to have a leisurely walk down from the Gellert height, you're default response being Come on, dude (in an angry voice), leave you and your friends with a good laugh, rather than a bad experience. It would have been hard to laugh about that alone, I think.

Accompanying me from Budapest to Zagreb, Ljubljana, all the way down to the Croatian island Korcula, Dubrovnik, into Montenegro, and back to Dubrovnik where I flew home from three weeks ago, was the song that has turned out to be the "hit" of the trip; tUnE-yArDs' Killa. In fact, I was about to publish this post the afternoon of the terror attack on my home city Oslo, and the title then was New kind of killa, referring to the song, but as you can see I have changed the title. The post has also grown from being a for the love of music and traveling-post, quickly aging, and hopefully maturing, into a for the love of life-post. Regardless, I see the new title more fitting, because I believe it is not the fight, but a different (and hopefully better) way of life that is the goal. I see me fighting my everyday fears as the small scale of what Norway is doing now - choosing a meaning when everything feels meaningless, fighting our fears when anger and anxiety threaten to get the best of us. I've chosen to fight myself first - my fears, my prejudices, my thought patterns and my bad behavior; because I want to be at peace both with myself, and with others. To me it is a proud fight to not let our fears get the air supply they need to spread the worst of themselves.

This summer tUnE-yArD's songs succeeded in putting into rhyme and rhythm some of my scattered thoughts, that needed a beat for me to hum them out loud, in order for me to realize them myself. Her music has come to represent an empowering journey, and a strong feeling of freedom and joy.

Can't you give me something that will keep
I think about the world is right
and even if you can't deny
Then something that will suit me

Although I don't think we will find any coherent meaning in what happened on July 22th, I think we can find meaning in life again. Hopefully, even a better way of life. For me, the strange, but gripping music of tUnE-yArDs, sometimes chaotic and wildly schizophrenic, sometimes accurate and revealing, has been oddly cathartic this summer. Perhaps her voice and lyrics can be the same for others. If her lyrics don't speak to you like they have to me, let the rhythms invite you into her playful universe!