Rocco Maiolo's Ramblings and Musings

Teaching Post 1 Although I was taught, and acclimated to the ways of my parents and grandparents – which was not to complain because there were always people less fortunate than we were – if I were to be at all kind to myself, I’d have to admit my early twenties were not good to me. I floundered badly. I belonged to a whacky church that was cult-like at worst and off-centre at best. It affected many decisions, behaviours and attitudes. We thought we were special which, by definition, made us not special ; it just made us arrogant. We were discouraged from higher education. I spun out after a year and a half of studying Math and Business at university because, well, I was good at Math, but what was I supposed to do with Math? Business?  I married young. We lasted a year. My wife had had enough of her twenty-one-year old, hubris-rich husband and their off kilter church; so one day she up and left, leaving literally just the dog and a few sundry items behind (which her father later collec

Memory: Fireflies in New Rochelle 1968  There's a memory that nibbles at the corners of my mind that never quite takes complete form. I checked with my mother so I know it was 1968. We were living in Montreal at the time. My dad had aunts -- his mother's younger sisters -- in the United States and they scolded him for living so close but never visiting. So after my dad bought his brand new powder blue Chevrolet Impala, we loaded into the car and off we went to New Rochelle, New York.  We left in the dark of night. Our parents would've woken my brother and I up from a dead sleep, but I'm sure we stayed awake for the whole six hour trip.  I remember counting the highway location markers as we got closer to our destination. What did they mean? They were counting down, I think... But counting down to what? My dad said they seemed to be coming every mile, but he also didn't know what they were counting down to. Speaking of my parents: I did the math when I was thinking o

The other day, I was watching the 2020 mini-series, The Stand, based on the same titled 1978 Stephen King novel. In it, an army general quotes William Buttler Yeats's "The Second Coming." When I heard this line: "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;/Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.." I thought, that's it; that's what I've been thinking (albeit in a wildly different context, but it fits with my musings). Here's the rumination in a nutshell: communities with a good, healthy, noble, wholesome cause start out well enough. They're centred. They know their mission -- it's decent and worthy. People rally around it. It gains momentum -- there's a buzz, people hear about it and join. Good things happen within the community and because of the community's reach. It's like the Beatles. I know, I just took a hard right, but stick with me. For such a time and place as this (Germany, England and then the world in the early to mi

 <i>Jack<i/>  by Marilynne Robinson. Wow.   This, her fourth instalment in the Gilead quartet -- all so different yet all so profoundly worth reading. If only I lived closer or had more ambition, I'd take her writing course in Iowa.  In 2005, when I was a high school English teacher, I asked the librarian, "Do you have any recommendations?" She handed me Marilynne Robinson's Gilead  and said, "This just came in. It's excellent. It won the Pulitzer for literature." I took it home. I was in the prime of my career, Busy at home and doing a part time music career. My reading pace had started to pick up again, but mostly I was reading pulpy fluff -- stuff that didn't make me think too hard. Several chapters in to reading Gilead  I had a couple of thoughts: this is the story of a congregationalist minister reflecting on his life, yes? And nothing is happening...? And,  I suspect it's beautiful and profound in a subtle sort of way that requ

These are books that I've read in the last ten years or so that have been good for my soul. They're not "feel-good", per se (ok, maybe of few of them are) and they're certainly not fluff. They're books which have a fundamentally positive/optimistic view of humanity while not minimizing its pain and suffering. They're also novels which have often made me think, If only influential people -- politicians and world leaders, for example -- would read these books... Again, in no particular order, here are my top twenty: Anxious People , Fredrik Backman Backman is a modern-day Dickens. Beautiful prose, perennially optimistic and funny. Just a great writer  whose next book I always look forward to. From the Ashes , Jesse Thistle Autobiographical. One of the top Canada-reads books a few years ago. A must-read if your heart beats to homelessness, poverty and/or Indigenous issues. Women Talking , Miriam Toews Toews is wickedly, and painfully funny. I've blogged a

I was asked by two people recently to recommend my favourite books. One friend asked me for my top 10. I scoffed. Then he said, "fifty?"  I said, "Pfft..." "One hundred?" "Impossible." Upon further reflection, I thought: I can make specific lists based on books I've read in the last, say, ten years or so... Lists such as: Best 20 Books I've Read Recently that Made me Go, "Damn, that's really good writing!" (pretty pithy title, right?) and Top 20 Books I've Read Recently that Made me realize I'm part of a human race that maybe doesn't totally suck (that'll be my next list). Ok, so back to the list in question: Best 20 Books I've Read Recently that Made me Go, "Damn, that's really good writing!" -- in no particular order: Glass Hotel , Emily St. John Mandel A friend of mine introduced me to Mandel's  Station Eleven. Last year, I read Glass Hotel; currently, I'm reading Sea of Tranqui