Its always awkward, and usually painful to discover at random that someone you knew has died. At the same time you feel the loss, the fact that while you knew them you obviously didnt know them well enough to know they died is unavoidable and you end up awash in a cocktail of conflicting emotions.
Its happened to me a few times, usually an acquaintance or distant relative. The person who references the event feeling suddenly guilty, Oh, I thought you knew Its OK...
Yesterday however the awkward messenger was a book.
A few weeks ago, on the recommendation of a friend, I picked up AHWOSG. It had been on my Should read list for a while, but I always ended up buying something else. True to its critics, its is overwritten and a bit self indulgent, but its also as good as its supporters claim. Also, for reasons that would each merit a journal entry of their own, the themes of grief and loss and the things that squeeze out around the edges when you try to contain them resonated rather strongly with me. I was surprised, towards the end however, to come across the name Skye Bassett.
A decade or so ago, Skye and I had a bunch of mutual friends. Late teens and early twenties kids, mostly Prep schoolers and NYU and Columbia underclassmen who went to the same parties, hung at the same underage friendly bars, and dated each others exes. One night she and I got to talking at a particularly flaccid party. She was an actor, a former minor child star trying to make the near-impossible leap to grown up roles. She was conceived on the Isle of Skye, hence the name and I finished the evening with a minor crush on her that might or might not have been requited.
I didnt see her for a while after that, and when we met later, there was no spark. We chatted, shared a few cabs and that was that. I moved out of the city and never saw her again. A few years later I caught Sister Act on late night cable and there she was, in a bit part. I had a Hey, good for her, moment and truthfully probably didnt think about her much until the other day.
I had pretty much the same reaction coming across her in the book. It struck me as a little odd that, unlike most everyone else in the book she got a full name, but I figured, shes an actor, Eggers gave her a plug. Nice guy. Then the foreshadowing started. Nothing blatant, jut a slight departure from the narrative stream, an emphasis on things that should be too trivial to mention if they didnt relate to something more significant. The kind of thing you congratulate yourself for noticing in a novel. This wasnt a novel, though and I began to develop a serious sense of dread. A few pages later, Skye died. and I found myself experiencing the same shock and horror as Eggers qua character as I read along. It was creepily like waving at yourself on closed circuit TV.
Its probably trite to presume to eulogize someone you knew so ephemerally, and besides, Eggers has already done so far better and to a wider audience. Still, I suppose thats what Ive done here, at least in part. We werent close, if her name had been Jennifer and she didnt look good on TV in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform, who knows if Id even remember her. Who knows if shed remember me? I was fond of her, but I cant even pull a cheap Erich Segal reference, really. Mostly, I was reading a book about loss, and it brought a very little bit of it into my life for real and despite my self-consciousness about it, I feel the need to recognize that in some way.
Its OK Mr. Eggers, there doesnt have to be any awkwardness or guilt on your end, but if this is another Adam Rich thing, Im going to kick your ass.
Its happened to me a few times, usually an acquaintance or distant relative. The person who references the event feeling suddenly guilty, Oh, I thought you knew Its OK...
Yesterday however the awkward messenger was a book.
A few weeks ago, on the recommendation of a friend, I picked up AHWOSG. It had been on my Should read list for a while, but I always ended up buying something else. True to its critics, its is overwritten and a bit self indulgent, but its also as good as its supporters claim. Also, for reasons that would each merit a journal entry of their own, the themes of grief and loss and the things that squeeze out around the edges when you try to contain them resonated rather strongly with me. I was surprised, towards the end however, to come across the name Skye Bassett.
A decade or so ago, Skye and I had a bunch of mutual friends. Late teens and early twenties kids, mostly Prep schoolers and NYU and Columbia underclassmen who went to the same parties, hung at the same underage friendly bars, and dated each others exes. One night she and I got to talking at a particularly flaccid party. She was an actor, a former minor child star trying to make the near-impossible leap to grown up roles. She was conceived on the Isle of Skye, hence the name and I finished the evening with a minor crush on her that might or might not have been requited.
I didnt see her for a while after that, and when we met later, there was no spark. We chatted, shared a few cabs and that was that. I moved out of the city and never saw her again. A few years later I caught Sister Act on late night cable and there she was, in a bit part. I had a Hey, good for her, moment and truthfully probably didnt think about her much until the other day.
I had pretty much the same reaction coming across her in the book. It struck me as a little odd that, unlike most everyone else in the book she got a full name, but I figured, shes an actor, Eggers gave her a plug. Nice guy. Then the foreshadowing started. Nothing blatant, jut a slight departure from the narrative stream, an emphasis on things that should be too trivial to mention if they didnt relate to something more significant. The kind of thing you congratulate yourself for noticing in a novel. This wasnt a novel, though and I began to develop a serious sense of dread. A few pages later, Skye died. and I found myself experiencing the same shock and horror as Eggers qua character as I read along. It was creepily like waving at yourself on closed circuit TV.
Its probably trite to presume to eulogize someone you knew so ephemerally, and besides, Eggers has already done so far better and to a wider audience. Still, I suppose thats what Ive done here, at least in part. We werent close, if her name had been Jennifer and she didnt look good on TV in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform, who knows if Id even remember her. Who knows if shed remember me? I was fond of her, but I cant even pull a cheap Erich Segal reference, really. Mostly, I was reading a book about loss, and it brought a very little bit of it into my life for real and despite my self-consciousness about it, I feel the need to recognize that in some way.
Its OK Mr. Eggers, there doesnt have to be any awkwardness or guilt on your end, but if this is another Adam Rich thing, Im going to kick your ass.
I've been on the delivery end of that conversation a few times. So far, when someone I know dies, I usually find out sooner rather than later. There is no non-awkward way to navigate that conversation. You just try to get through it without crashing and burning too badly and deal with the emotions later as they come. What am I supposed to say? "Sorry to hear about your friend?" As you say, she wasn't a friend, just an acquaintance. There is no place for me to go with that; you're on your own.
I don't get the Adam Rich reference. Can you explain?