How To Get Rid Of A Middle-Aged Casanova

A Helpful Advice From A Red Room Author

MAR.29.2013 

The end of this story was that I started writing a blog, but what had happened before that was somewhat unexpected.

I got married when I was 20 and lost my husband to cancer when I was 52. Shortly before he died my husband Tzvi told me that he hoped that afterwards I could find love again.So several months after his death, I decided that I was ready to go on with my life and started on-line dating. Although Israel is a small country and in theory the six degrees of separation could work perfectly, on-line dating felt awkward and risky. Also the last time when I was out on a date I was 19 and then I dated boys. Now, to my great surprise, the people whom I met were, like me, older.  But soon afterwards I met, in real life, a colleague and we stated dating. I felt relieved not to go on blind dates anymore, and he looked like a suitable partner. We came from a similar background, and the fact that we were colleagues made me feel safe.

 Here I must emphasize that in spite of my advanced age, I do not have much life experience. Thus I must have missed all the cues that would have been clear to any other woman. It transpired that my respectable colleague, PhD and all, was seeing, at the same time, several other women. That came as a complete surprise, coming from a happy and monogamous marriage, nothing prepared me for such eventuality.

 Since all my life I have  turned to books for guidance, I did the same here and found the answer in the book The Casanova Complex: Compulsive Lovers and Their Women by Peter Trachtenberg. The author,  a recovering Casanova by his own account wrote this important book when he was only in his late 30s. His book was an eye opener;  I read it over and over (with a highlighter in hand) until the text was pink and I was ready to let go of my own Casanova. But I still wasn’t sure what to do next, should I share  the important knowledge that I got from the book with my colleague in the hope that he would see the light and be saved?

I decided to ask Peter Trachtenberg for advice; I found his email address in Red Room, a site for authors  In order to write to him I had to join Red Room, which I did. I remember writing to him that I didn’t know much about men but I did know about books, and that was the reason why I turned to his. Trachtenberg wrote me back a kind reply, his answer was clear: he objected to the idea of sharing his book with Casanova and told me, in no uncertain terms, to disengage; I followed his advice.

 I will always be grateful to Peter Trachtenberg for his insightful book and sound advice. I am also thankful that looking for him, was the first step in going back to writing, and this time in English 

  

P.S I just saw that  Peter Trachtenberg has a new book out Another Insane Devotion.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/30/books/review/another-insane-devotion-by-peter-

Kafka's Wish And The End Of Red Room

Kafka’s wish, that all the writing which he had ever produced would be destroyed after his death, was not respected due to the disobedience of his friend and admirer Max Brod. Since he  did not burn his writing himself, Kafka  lost control over  the destiny of his work.

This is an early example of the impossibility to control our personal information, and it is very pertinent to today’s cyber world. I don’t mean to suggest that Kafka’s writing is in anyway similar to other information which we could find on the net today, but in essence the inability to determine what will happen with one’s writing  is the same.

A lot has been written about the footsteps which we leave behind when we use the internet. Those trails are the data used by different interests or sellers when they offer us their services and products.

However, until  the last couple of weeks,   I never stopped to think about my control over my personal information,  or in other words, my writing: conference papers,  literary translations, and a biweekly blog, among others.

My chosen site was Red Room, its motto:  “where the writers are,” indicated its focus, and it was no surprise that at least most of the users, were like me, people who write. It was a lively and busy community where members wrote and got responses, where special  events, like Mother’s  Day or Thanksgiving were celebrated with special blogs. In addition, it had a genuine atmosphere of good-will  which promoted friendships.

And then, out of the blue, in the beginning of  July the Red Room community got the announcement that the site would  be closed in 5 days, there was no explanation why.

  It was a big shock, somehow due to lack of experience in the digital world, I never saw it coming. I thought that Red Room would last forever, and  was convinced that my material there would be always secure. I never expected anything to change.  Upon hearing the news I felt deceived, it was as though someone whom I grew to love and respect turned out to be a married man with another family.

Now when the shock has somewhat dissipated, I wonder about my blindness, how come I never thought to ask questions about the fortitude of that site. Before I invest money in a company I read about it to check whether it is a sound  investment (and still I could be wrong). How come it didn’t occur to me to do the same here, in the site where I invested all my energy and time?

And I am sure that I was not the only one; there were many other writers in Red Room and I never read any one raising a question about the business aspect of the site. I know that I was there to enjoy Red Room, it was a safe environment and I felt good in that happy bubble and never wanted to know about the world outside.

As I went through my blog posts copying and pasting them into Word document, in order to save them,  I felt sad. It was because it was the end of an era and also  because I knew that my “age of innocence”  was over.  From now on I  have  to take responsibility for my information, as much as I can.

It was too easy to leave it in the competent hands of the site owners,  but  eventually they had to take care of themselves.

I need to grow up and do the same

The Whales Know A Journey Through Mexican California By Pino Cacucci

The Whales Know A Journey through Mexican California: by Pino Cacucci, translated by Katherine Gregor

For years, few days before my husband's birthday, I used to go to the Travel Section at our local bookstore to look for the perfect book that would capture his imagination. Those were not the kind of books which I would normally choose for myself, but somehow I was always able to find the right book for him.

Earlier this week, as I was reading through The Whales Know A Journey through Mexican California, by the Italian writer Pino Cacucci (and beautifuly translated by our own Red Room blogger Katherine Gregor), I realized that this was the perfect book for Tzvi my late  husband. Even the name of the publisher was highly appropriate, “Armchair Traveller:”  Tzvi was an avid reader who loved to sit at home and learn about other people’s  journeys and adventures from books.

The Whales Know is a collection of 20 short charming and erudite essays that combine descriptions of Cacucci's travels through Mexican California with intellectual insights. The essays are rich with allusions and thought-provoking references.

Sometimes translations tend to be somewhat heavy and cumbersome, as the translator is eager to be as true to the source as possible, and in the process forgets that ultimately the book would be judged by its accessibility and appeal.  However, thanks to the sensitivity and talent of Katherine Gregor, The Whales Know in the English translation has a poetic and natural flow.

Books about travelling are great reading material all year around, but  this book is especially appropriate to take on vacation. Reading an essay or two a day gives plenty of food for the imagination for the rest of the time. Another unique quality of the collection is that the reader could open the book on almost any page and is sure to find an illuminating passage: for example: from essay number 19 “Frontera:”

“The border has shaped me from my very childhood and continues to teach me even now I am past fifty. . .The border, no matter how much wire netting and how many trenches are built, always ends up uniting rather than separating those who live in its shadow. “(p. 126) 

As an Israeli, the issue of borders is relevant and close to my heart. On the Mexican border Cacucci  meets the Mexican author Gabriel Trujillo Munoz  and quotes his writing on this subject (this time Cacucciis himself is in the role of the translator).

I took The Whales Know with me on my Passover vacation to the Ramon Crater in the Desert Mountain and was very happy with this choice. Since it is a small book, I was able to carry it long while walking on the edge of the crater. Every so often I would sit down read  an essay and then resume the walk. I couldn’t think of a better, or more stimulating, companion. This time I found the right book for me.

  Here is the link, and the details of the book: http://www.thearmchairtraveller.com/product/439

At 2,000 km, Baja California in modern-day Mexico is one of the longest peninsulas in the world, and certainly one of the most geographically diverse. Following in the footsteps of John Steinbeck, Pino Cacucci travels through endless expanses of desert, salt mountains and rows of cacti with thorns so sharp they can impale thirsty birds. He meets local characters ranging from greedy privateers to Jesuit missionaries - and a cameo from The Doors' Jim Morrison. Yet the cast of characters includes animals as well as people - sixty years ago Mexic became the first country to create a safe haven for whales, and even today these mysteriously intelligent animals play alongside the fishing boats in harmony with humans. Written with humility, humour and heart, The Whales Know is an insight into an ecosystem under threat.

Pino Cacucci was born in Chiavari, Italy. He is the author of over 20 works of fiction and non-ficto and has won over 16 awards for his writing since 1988.

translated by Katherine Gregor