I am reading a book by William Saroyan simply titled Obituaries. I was always fascinated by the title from the moment I noticed it. It took me like ten years, however, to buy it. Like many books I buy, I put it on the bookshelf and add it to my mental reading list. I put next to the other Saroyan books I have actually read. It looked good there. It actually stood out with its bright red binding with the bold words jumping off the spine: William Saroyan Obituaries
On many occasions I thought about reading it but didn’t. I can’t explain why. After purchasing it, it sat on the bookshelf for fifteen years. It took this contagion for me to pull it off the shelf and actually start reading it back in March. Go figure.
I was wrong and right about what I thought the book was about. I just assumed it was going to be Saroyan reminiscing about the people in his life in some warm Armenian way. The book was sure enough about reminiscing about people he knew and didn’t know. It was, after all, his last book published in 1979, two years before his passing. But he did it in an Armenian way but the tone was not what I would call warm. It was more defiant and brusque as Saroyan can be. Clearly, I never read the blurb on the back of the book nor the first chapter. If I had, and I have roughly 25 years to do so, I would have known:
… each entry in the necrology register of Variety magazine for the year 1976 is recalled, revivified, regaled and/or reviled by their former intimate. Others, not on the list
Did I say I was reading this book? That is true, I am reading the book, but it is at a snail’s pace. It is not an easy read. I have never read as many incredibly long sentences in my life and I am only an eighth of the way through the 354 pages. These sentences run on and on and them some more. They are stream of consciousness in a sense, but they are also intricate thread with insight and philosophy. I am savoring every word.
I wonder how many people have read this book. I believe one has to be a serious Saroyan fan or scholar to buy it and read it.
I am no Saroyan, not even close. But the title of this book resonated with me when I first saw the title. It resonates with me still. I have been clipping obituaries and saving them to Evernote ever since I installed Evernote on my PCs. I have saved obituaries of family and friends as well as well-known personalities that I never actually met. I save them and often write my own thoughts about them in this blog.
It may be an Armenian thing, this obsession with death and remembrance. I am not sure and don’t want to overemphasize or over-fantasize this aspect, but the Genocide does weigh heavily and influence how generations were raised and think thereafter. Consider that Saroyan wrote this, his last book, and titled it Obituaries. Consider, Dr. Jack Kevorkian and his obsession with death in both his career, as a coroner, and as an artist. Consider, the importance of Hokhankist in the Armenian Church. Lastly, consider the words of the famous Armenian poet Bedros Tourian (who died at the age 21 in 1872) of tuberculosis in his poem My Death:
But, if my grave remains unmarked
In a corner of the earth
And remembrance of me fades away,
Ah, that is when I will die.
Maybe I am not emphasizing the part of the Armenian psyche enough?
When I was younger, I saw an old black and white film that I can neither recall the name nor the actors. I do remember a bit about the plot. This young aspiring reporter landed a job at a major newspaper, maybe the New York Times. His first assignment was writing obituaries. When not writing an actual obituary, his job was to scour the newspaper and wires for news about politicians, luminaries, and celebrities. He would then update their file saved the old-fashioned way in file folders in file cabinets. This was done to make the writing of an obituary if and when the person died easier. I was intrigued by this very pragmatic practice in the days before the internet. I was intrigued by the nature of the job.
This week I read and saved two obituaries. The first of Diego Armando Maradona who passed away November 25th. He was an amazing soccer player, one of the greatest ever. He was also a most troubled persona who fought drugs and demons most of his life. He was only 60 years old.
The second was of a Colgate colleague who I reported to for a short time, Chuck Beck. When I joined Colgate, Chuck was VP of Manufacturing for Europe. I was impressed by his energy, drive, and determination. He was a tireless worker and pusher. He would refer to himself and the folks that report to him as “men of action.” Indeed, he was. We were cordial enough, but I knew that I probably would enjoy working for him. Well, that happened. I was working in Global Purchasing. I was invited to join that organization by the VP of Procurement, Lowell Hoffman, that I got along with very well. Under Lowell’s mentorship, I was to run toothbrush procurement since we were purchasing about half of our toothbrushes from two suppliers in Europe. After just a few months, Lowell abruptly left the company and Chuck took his place. I knew this was not going to end well and it didn’t. I was lucky enough to return to the Latin American Division as the first Director of Customer Service and Logistics in the history of the company (many more followed very quickly). This began the most productive part of my career. Chuck and I got along much better and valued each other much more. He asked me to support a few initiatives he started in terms of global transportation, I agreed and did, and helped achieve success of these initiatives. We were good. I came to think highly of Chuck because of this.
Why did I suddenly think of him yesterday? I am not sure. I am never sure of why such thoughts bubble up. I did an internet search and learned that he passed away, suddenly, at the age of 78 on September 27, 2018. I was sorry to hear of this. He left Colgate before I did. We did not stay in touch. We did not work well together when I reported to him, but we were much more effective afterwards and had mutual respect and it was all due to Chuck reaching out. I will never forget this lesson.
Here are my favorite obituaries from this blog:
From Harry on FB
ReplyDeleteI think later in life when the critics hated him and people stopped reading him (yet his fame was such that he could always find a publisher), Saroyan just started writing whatever he damn well pleased, and perhaps this reached its apex in "Obituaries". I got the same feeling from his novel "Rock Wagram" that you'd have to be a Saroyan superfan to like it, yet there was no denying it was good - and that was written back in the 50s!