Just some ice water…had a bonfire in the snow last night…a break-up party for a friend… too much schnapps in the Swiss Miss.
I was wondering about a couple of things. In a previous question, you mentioned your interest in sign language. Did you start that program? Is it really good? And, have you ever seen the movie Children of a Lesser God? I loved that movie – when she describes the sound of the ocean – when she screamed, “Hear my voice,” I was bawling my eyes out. That movie made me want to learn sign language. And for a year I had a crush on Marlee Matlin (sp?)…I was thirteen. I never did get around to learning it though. I know the alphabet and I used to know how to count. But that’s all. If it had been there when I was in school, I probably would have taken it instead of french.
In Solitaire, Scully’s aftershock behind the bar made me think of seizures. I’ve never seen a real one. Have you? I have JME and have had plenty of seizures (haven’t had one in 9 yrs and no more zombie meds either)… Anyway, friends and classmates would tell me what I looked like when I was having one. When Scully looked like he was going to reach out, when he made the nasty strangled sound and his eyes rolled back… that whole scene (except that his body was relaxed during the aftershock), was scary for me to read because, in a weird way, it was as if I hit play on the VCR and there I was seizing in front of myself. What Jackal does for Scully, other people have done for me… move stuff out of the way etc., etc. So, have you seen a seizure? Have you ever had to move stuff out of the way for someone? Just curious.
Thanks for taking the time to answer yet another one of my questions,
Lindsey
I enjoy your questions, it’s nice to have an extended conversation.
I did start my class and I love it. Love love love. I study at ASLIS, the American Sign Language & Interpreting School of Seattle. It turns out that many students in my class moved to Seattle specifically to study at the school, and that kind of commitment makes for a pretty tight bonding experience. It’s a great place to be if one is serious about ASL. Classes are small (and will get smaller next year, since some people take class as a foreign language credit for the University of Washington, and won’t be staying for the full program). We get a lot of teacher attention (also known as nowhere to run, nowhere to hide…) There’s a big emphasis on community involvement and learning about Deaf culture. It’s focused and intense and treats us like grownups, all of which work well for me in a learning situation.
I have seen Children of a Lesser God 2 or 3 times and really admire Marlee Matlin’s work. I love the scene in which she dances, feeling the music. I recently saw a repeat of an episode of The Practice that she did in 2000, in which she played a woman on trial for killing the man who murdered her daughter. There was an amazing scene between Matlin and Camryn Manheim (side note, Camryn Manheim rocks) – they have an argument in ASL and as it heats up, Manheim stops voicing, and there’s a good 60-90 seconds of (silent) ASL between two very pissed-off people. No subtitles for the ASL-impaired; either the viewer keeps up or she doesn’t. It was exciting to watch, and very powerful.
I don’t believe I’ve ever witnessed a seizure – I’m guessing the images and notions I have mostly come from books and movies/TV. I’m glad you don’t have to make a daily choice between seizing and zombification – that sounds pretty unhappy either way. This is the first time I’ve really thought about the fact that people who experience seizures might not know what one is like (what they look like, or how people react). I imagine it’s unsettling to know something about yourself only from others’ perceptions, especially if the people around you are afraid. I hope your friends and classmates were sensible, although so much of that depends on our particular socialization (“bodies are icky and illness is embarrassing and what if I do the wrong thing?” versus “bodies are part of the package, they get wacky or hurt sometimes, and we just have to do what we think is best to help”).
So few of us are trained how to approach new and urgent situations, and how to trust ourselves in action. Specialized knowledge is good, but damn, there’s no substitute for common sense and the willingness to take some responsibility. Jackal behaves the way I hope I would: and now that I’m thinking about this, I realize that my next book looks at this issue (how people behave in crisis) more intentionally. Hmm. I wonder how many little moments in Solitaire reflect themes or ideas that are important to me but still subterranean, that I will explore in future books, maybe forever.
I love stories that allow me to stop and think about how it is living in another person’s body. We are so contained within our own flesh that when something like witnessing a seizure forces us into empathy, most of us freak out or are plain paralyzed.
I enjoy tagging along when Esmeralda meets up with her deaf friends at a pub. I can understand most of their conversations, though I can’t sign worth a peanut. I remember their camping stories best. How they always have to bring a portable sound system to blast off at all times. Otherwise, they may surprise or be surprised by bears, since they aren’t making noise while they communicate. This allows the bear to think they aren’t human and to be avoided, but moose or deer or some other snack. One time, they were on a boat, rowing away, and didn’t notice a couple of bears swimming toward them. When they did see the animals, they took pictures! Oh, they showed them to us… and I felt weak at the knees. And I’m amazed they managed to survive. And I think about how strange it must be, to live in that quiet world and still need to remember that there are things outside that require them to make sounds.
There’s a vampire in a novel by Drew Hayden Taylor that needs to travel from Europe back to his homeland in Canada. It made me realize how much risk a simple outing can be for some. How able-bodied people enjoying good health take for granted that their system will adapt to changes in the environment, whether it’s temperature, altitude, humidity, light or dark conditions, etc.
I’ve witnessed seizures because one of my friends is epileptic. The first couple of times were scary, after, you get the hang of it and know your friend will come out okay if you do your part. But one time, I was in the front-passenger seat when the girl driving hit an eight-year-old boy who’d ran in front of her car right in the middle of the freeway. I remember it in slow motion. And I remember getting out of the car and just staring at the boy’s body and unable to move and then going down as if it was my leg and not his the one twisted and broken into that impossible position, the bloody mess of his forehead. It took the truck that came to a stop with a screech only a meter or so away from us to pull me back into the “now” and the urgency that I did something useful.