Weird November, weird December
And a little note about museums, because why not
November was a strange month. Usually, it’s a month of making sure that whatever needs to be out of my desk by the end of the year is on its way, except this year there’s nothing under that category (except for the upcoming newsletters).
On top of that, being in Paris with my mother was not just a peculiar experience for the reasons I wrote about here, nor because it was the longest time I spent with her in over 10 years. Well, yes, both of these things contributed to the strangeness of the month, but there was something else.
Something I only managed to put my finger on when I sat down to do my little monthly wrap-up.
I read very little in November.
I don’t mean this purely regarding the number of pages read or volumes completed (though both are great indicators). I mean in terms of time spent engaged in one of my favorite habits: sitting down with a cup of coffee in the morning and reading.
I don’t think I had any pretense of getting extended reading sessions happening during my time away, especially when a 12k-steps day was a short one. But coming back home and being able to jump back into that was, in many ways, the perfect way to come back home.
I landed on a Saturday morning, and twenty-four hours later I had a cup of home-brewed coffee in one hand and a novel in another. I was nested in my couch, surrounded by my pillows, getting back into my routine.
November was such a strange month that I only realized it was over a couple of days after the fact, so allow me to stretch it a bit and say that my made-up November ran from November 3rd (when I got to Paris) to December 3rd (when I finally conceded that the month was over).
And, in this period, I visited ten museums.1
I’ve always loved going to museums. Way before I ever thought I’d work in one, when I was a wee nerd growing up, museum school trips were my favorite.
There’s a town a couple of hours away from Rio called Petrópolis. It’s so-called in honor of its founder, Pedro II, the second emperor of Brazil (did you know Brazil was an empire after its independence from Portugal in 1822?). The town was the summer residence of the imperial family and aristocrats, who went up the forested hills of the region in search of a break from the high temperatures in Rio, the court. That imperial summer palace, with its neoclassical style and floors in marble and hardwood from various regions of Brazil, became the Museu Imperial.
Visiting it at some point in my childhood, early enough that I don’t even remember when, certainly left a strong impression—the collection of jewelry, the paintings, the furniture, Brazil’s first telephone…
And the fact that you had to wear slippers over your shoes to help preserve the original floors was probably also a factor.
Of course, after learning a little bit of the ropes, your perspective on cases, lighting, labels, and floor layout begins to change, you start questioning some choices and growing an immense appreciation for the number of people needed to make those spaces happen.
But me, I still get giddy when I get a ticket and access an exhibition room.
December is always a strange month too. Time feels sort of suspended—until it isn’t, and then it’s hurling you towards the new year.
So much of the holiday season is centered around “good family time” but, to me, it is really about the life I’ve built for myself with Life Associate and the little traditions we have created for ourselves along the way.
For several years, on different social networks, I have posted a signal to friends and followers that it is absolutely okay not to want to spend time with people who happen to be of your bloodline, that no one needs to feel jolly and gay, that it is fine to wish to spend some quiet or alone time.
This year I also want to share that, not only all of the above, but that you should take the opportunity to create your own traditions. I say this as an academic, as someone who spent months on end reading about the subject—traditions are made, and whether they are about your entire family group, a select group of friends, or just yourself, they can be fashioned and refashioned as you go along.
That’s the beauty of it.
November round-up:
The Last Days of New Paris, by China Miéville
Detalhe Menor [Minor Detail], by Adania Shibli (trans. to Brazilian Portuguese by Safa Jubran)
Visitation, by Jenny Erpenbeck (trans. Susan Bernofsky)
Eastbound, by Maylis de Kerangal (trans. Jessica Moore)
In order: Maison Victor Hugo, Musée Carnavalet, Musée des Archives Nationales, Musée du Moyen Âge, Musée du Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, Musée de la Bibliothèque nacionale de France, Musée Rodin, The Morgan Library & Museum, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
"you should take the opportunity to create your own traditions". I agree. We can cherish the old, but also bring in the new.