When I was much younger, among the books I loved to read were those by novelist James Michener. Michener's works were generally characterized by their scope and treatment of epic sagas. He often began literally at the geological or at least the pre-historical origins of the regions that he wished to encapsulate for his readers and described ensuing generations in detail. One literally needed a map of the territory or territories covered, along with family trees to keep the characters sorted, as the stories wound their way through the generations, with actual historical events often forming the backdrop. Michener's research was meticulous. But what also characterized his novels for me, especially in hindsight and upon reading some at my now more advanced age, was Michener's prescience. So many of the issues he treated, whether they concerned ethnic identities, religious zealotry, tolerance or the lack of it, individuals and their rights or identities being subsumed into a larger geopolitical military context or simply appreciation of the richness, beauty or vast expanses of the regions his novels dealt with, have emerged time and again as events in those regions have made headlines.
Some of his novels have resonated with me at different times in my life. More eerily, they have even paralleled my own life trajectory, although occasionally in their film as well as written forms. Thus, I first saw "South Pacific," the film made from the blockbuster Broadway musical of the same name based on his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel "Tales of the South Pacific," in the early 1950s when my family made its first-ever major family trip together. We had boarded the then-orange-and-black Empire Builder in our tiny rural home town in Montana - that was when the train made stops in other than major cities so that people could actually get from one place to another - and traveled westward for many, many hours through the Rocky Mountains to Spokane, Washington to visit my father's parents as well as other family members there. As if the Spokane visit were not already an adventure sufficient unto itself, while we were there, we attended a showing of the movie. The wonderful tunes, beautiful film footage and story line grabbed my soul and imbued it - once and forever - with the wanderlust that has been with me since.
Continuing Michener's fascination with Polynesia was his 1959 novel, "Hawaii," which I loved - even the seemingly-endless description of the birth of the islands themselves. While awaiting the birth of my older son in the mid-60s, I read "Caravans" and "The Source." After living in Tangier, Morocco in the late 60s and meeting descendants of those whose ancestors had fled to Morocco from Spain after the Spanish had reconquered Andalusia in the 15th century, I read "The Drifters." I read several other titles in the 1970s, courtesy of the Missoula County Public Library.
"Caravans" re-entered my life in film form late in 1980, when my sons and I were once again in Morocco, this time in Rabat. As an aid worker, I was entitled to attend English-language films at the Embassy and generally took my then-teen-aged sons with me - homesick as they were for anything American at the time. Somehow we had missed seeing the film in the States, so it was a new experience for us. A few months later when I had been introduced to the man who would later figure in my life as "HWMBO," I was delighted to learn that much of the film had been shot on location in Iran, near where HWMBO and several other US expatriates lived during the time when relations between our two governments were friendly. Some of these new friends had actually been "extras" on the set! Now we were together with them in Morocco. They were as affected with wanderlust as I!
Later, after marrying and returning with my newly increased family to Maryland, I read Michener's "Chesapeake." It was a lovely introduction to that home. That novel is here with me now. In Switzerland.
But all those life experiences were pre-9-11, that catastrophically tragic day when the world literally changed forever.
Michener was fortunate. He left us all in 1997, before the horror arrived, before the decade-plus thereafter when the US - if it ever truly had a claim as a "White Knight" had most certainly lost it, perhaps forever. And now for the Cranes ....
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