mouse
Michael Toliver Lives was purchased for my holiday, but left behind because I was still only halfway through “The First Emperor,” an entertaining, if slightly unexciting, retelling of the life of Octavian, who became Augusts Caesar, one of my least favourite of the Caesars - a squinty eyed, tight lipped hypocrite, who practiced adultery, paedophilia, infanticide and acting, yet who banished his own daughter to an island for lax morals.
George W Augustus Octavian came out of the book quite nicely, which is hardly surprising when you realise that it was clearly written by a card-carrying member of the Augustus Caesar Fan Club. He was forced into the War on Cleopatra, He was upset at having to have his daughte banished (though not,I suspect, as upset as his child), and he was devastated at the death of his friend since boyhood - one Marcus Agrippa.
The last point; the friendship that lasted for years, the only relationship, apart from that with his wife, that Augustus seems to have held ingreat regard, brings me back to “Michael Tolliver Lives,” which could, in another life have been titled “The Last Old Queen.”
Friday brought Monsoon rains to the South of England, and, as a result, the transport system was totally screwed. I had a job interview with the company I refer to as The Big Financial Utility. They’ve been interviewing me, on and off, for six weeks now. I’ve seen everyone bar the janitor, it seems. Friday was a Teleconference with the NY based head of a department I wouldn’t be working for (?!?!).
Again, we had a very pleasant meeting. One point did make me smile: In response to my question on his most and least favourite parts of the job, he informed me that the entire company is very understaffed, because “The company’s growing much faster than anyone anticipated; certainly faster than we can get people in.” Which, considering it’s now about 6 weeks since I first met with them, is hardly surprising.
Hopefully, they’ll now finally be able to either offer or say ‘No thanks.’ To be honest, the amount of time they’ve taken to get to this point is a concern for me - how many meetings will be required for the most basic decisions in the organisation?
On the very long journey home, I finished Michael Tolliver Lives. And cried, and cried for twenty minutes. It’s all about family - the biological and what maupin refers to as the Logical families.
It’s about Friendship, and the love that we feel for our friends and family - the way that, although some believe that ‘Blood is thicker than water,’ in reality ‘Love is thicker than indifference.’
The book is definitely flawed - unsure, at times, whether to be literature or page-turner (not that you can’t be both, of course; but with a pedigree such as this one, it’s a seemingly unreconcilable problem).
It’s been said that, whilst it’s narrated in the First Person, it’s Armistead Maupin’s voice we hear rather than Mike Tolliver’s. Well, I’m fine with that: AM is MK, as far as I can see. He always was - the principal gay character in a series written by a gay man. Some people preferred to think that Mary-Anne Singleton was Armistead’s alter-ego; she may have been, but only because, like Maupin (and like Mouse) she was, originally, an unreconstructed old fashioned mooning, cock-eyed optimist, forever believeing that everything would work out in the end.
Mary-Anne has grown away from her original state of being, become a not very nice person, and, in the end, been almost rehabilitated, whilst Mouse continues to be the centre of Maupin’s universe, and, as always, continues to be someone who, whilst carrying far more baggage than could ever have been foreseen at the start of the series all those years ago, is still in love with love, and in love with life.
There are several points where Maupin’s voice grates - where he tells too much, rather than just letting the reader work it out. Bu, again, in a world where people queue up for days for a book about wizards, I’m willing to forgive a lot to read a book that reminds me how grown ups are children too - and how, like children, we need, sometimes, a warm hug, a gentle peck on the forehead, and an opportunity to believe that, despite all evidence to the contrary, everything will be alright, right now.
The last paragraph made me weep, and I had to read it to David on Saturday. Will post it soon.
The rest of the weekend was lovely. A week home from the holiday,w e finally tidies away all the stuff we needed to. D and I had a lovely long conversation with my parents - proof that the horrors of the past couple of months may be behind us.
I did my back in last week - either too vigorous a session on the rowing machine at the gym, or too vigorous an indulgence in my Conjugal rights. Whichever, it’s slowly getting back to normal.
Tonight, it’s home early. Tomorrow an interview with the bank known as Feng Shui Corp, and Wednesday, it’s Big Insurance Co. Please let me get a new job, before this lot spot I haven’t been doing any work for weeks 