I went to see No Country for Old Men<\/i> tonight. The crowd gathered outside the theatre, and they wouldn’t let us in because the cleanup crew was still going thru from the showing before. I stood there, nose in Bleak House<\/i>. I can’t stand crowds (which is clearly why I live where I do, and why I choose to go to movies on 42nd and 8th at 7:30 pm). The best way to deal with the push of crowds is to just read, and totally divorce myself from the possible mayhem. <\/p>\n
I was reading the chapter about poor little Jo being tended to by Mr. George and Mr Woodcourt, and it got so sad at the end, I was in the last paragraph of the chapter, that my eyes filled with tears. I was standing in the lobby of the theatre, surrounded by a pressing crowd, anxious to get inside the theatre, and I was aware of none of them. <\/p>\n
Suddenly, a voice next to me said, “Excuse me …” I looked up. <\/p>\n
It was a little old woman, probably in her 70s. She had on a nice wool beret, a scarf around her neck and her eyes glimmered with clarity. She said, “I hope you don’t mind my asking – but what Dickens is so engrossing you?” Her energy was so forthright, so … so NICE … that my normal urban reserve (especially in crowd situations) dissolved immediately. <\/p>\n
I said, “Bleak House<\/em>.” <\/p>\n She gasped and put her hand over her heart expressively. “Isn’t it wonderful?” <\/p>\n “You’ve actually caught me kind of crying right now … it’s SUCH a good book!” <\/p>\n “Rather ‘bleak’, is it not?” She laughed at her pun. <\/p>\n I said, “Yes.” <\/p>\n She said, “I just love Dickens. I can’t do without him.” <\/p>\n I was in love with her. I said, “God, he’s just so wonderful …” (Normally I don’t like being interrupted while reading I got so sucked into this woman’s energy which was lovely.) <\/p>\n She said, “I think my favorite is Tale of Two Cities<\/em> …” <\/p>\n I said, “That’s one of my favorite books of all time, I think …” <\/p>\n She said, “I love Great Expectations<\/em>, too. Have you read this book?” gesturing up to the marquee, meaning Cormac McCarthy’s book. <\/p>\n I shook my head no and she said, “Oh, you must! I am so eager to see the adaptation and to see how they deal with the character of the sheriff. I have read reviews that give it 3 stars, they seem to have some reservations about it, but I’m very excited to see it. You really have to read the book!” <\/p>\n Suddenly, a wave of emotion came over me. This woman, in her 70s, coming down to go to the movies, by herself, all excited to see what “they” did with the adaptation of a book she had enjoyed, standing in the midst of a huge jostling crowd, and she noticed I was reading Dickens … and had to reach out. This woman knows how to live.<\/p>\n We walked into the movie theatre together, chatting about Cormac McCarthy’s other books, and then parted, saying, “Enjoy!” <\/p>\n So maybe one day I’ll be a little 70-year-old woman going to the movies by myself. Maybe I’ll be hyped up to see the adaptation of a book I just read, and maybe I’ll chat with someone else in line about the movie we’re about to see. And I’ll be open-eyed and curious and interested. I won’t be lonely or sad. <\/p>\n Maybe everything will be okay after all.<\/p>\n \n