42. Apocalypse

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Doctor Faustus

If chapter XXX. is the key to Mann's true attitude toward the Great War, then chapter XXXIV. does the same for the rise of Hitler and WW2. It is more than a little frightening to read about "the Kridwiss sessions" at a time when Donald Trump is running for President in this suddenly shaky democracy. Substitute "Liberalism" for "Wiemar" and they could be talking about today. And the bit about how science can't defend itself in this climate was seconded just today by a new Senator in Australia, of all places, explaining to his fellow Senators how climate change is a global conspiracy.  

Bank Cafe

At the Bank Cafe for my iced tea and muffin. Since I’m here so frequently, I’m familiar with both the bank staff and the cafe (Peete’s) staff. Of course I haven’t failed to notice two young women baristas who Jane Austen’s Sir John Middleton would undoubtedly describe as “such pretty girls” (the passage I have in mind is not in the original but in the 2008 mini-series, so maybe I should credit Andrew Davies instead) and Mrs. Jennings would be trying to marry them off as quickly as possible before the bloom is off the rose. Anyway, these two are often paired behind the counter and, now, they are both obviously in college -- as they can frequently be seen not working behind the counter but at a table with books before them. 

There are a number of colleges in this neighborhood, including a new campus of the gigantic SF City College. I was sitting here, waiting to get onto the WiFi (takes forever) and speculating where they might be attending when one of the bank employees walked up to the table -- where the blonde of the two was sitting. While it’s handy for them to have such a convenient place to study where they work, the downside is that everyone recognizes them and is tempted to chat them up. The bank guy (I’m two tables over so I could hear pretty well) was intending to be helpful only to discover, to his dismay, that she was studying calculus. He actually recoiled. Another employee, passing at that moment, when she got the news, added her own, “dear God” and they both fled into the elevator. 

I’m wondering if this would also work on planes to keep people from talking to you.

Dragon Boats

Tomorrow is Day 1 of the sadly reduced and relocated Dragon Boat Races here. Officially it’s the San Francisco Dragon Boat Festival but since they’ve lost the Treasure Island location, it will actually be held at Oakland’s Lake Merritt. First we steal Oakland’s basketball team and now we hold SF events in their public parks. No wonder they have so much gun violence.

That was my second favorite event of the year (the Alice radio free concerts in GG Park would be third favorite, and those have been abandoned entirely it seems). Lake Merritt is a lovely setting so I have a feeling the new venue will only be disappointing in comparison with the beauty of TI. And it should be easier to work because it’s a much smaller event now. Though probably hotter since it’s on the lake not in the middle of the Bay.

Dwelling on Dwell

Dwell magazine, from here, has been establishing itself in SoCal for some years now. The current issue of the magazine talks about a “content series” featuring mid-century LA residential architecture from around the Case Study period -- possibly overlapping with the time Thomas Mann was living in Pacific Palisades. That made me think how Faustian -- in Goethe’s sense -- SoCal is. The magazine says, “...they took advantage of the region’s pleasant climate by creating experimental spaces that blur the lines between indoor and outdoor living.” 

SoCal is almost magical -- and not a little Mephistophelian. At the end of Faust, Faust, with Mephisto’s help, reclaims land from the sea to build his new world. In SoCal, people reclaimed a desert with water stolen from other places. The lush beauty of SoCal residential landscapes comes with a high price. The Owens Valley is the equivalent of the simple people crushed by Mephisto’s men -- to fulfill Faust’s wishes, though Faust doesn’t want to know about it, just as Angelenos don’t wish to dwell on the consequences of their lifestyle. (Note second meaning of “dwell” played with there.)

And that’s before you even get to the oil that comes from below the city to fuel the cars that ravage the surface and the air above. And naming such a Mephistophelian place “the city of angels” is so perfect. What genius wrote this reality? 

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