Good afternoon, beloved -
Let me take a few minutes here to once again sing the praises of my friend H, who lives on a narrowboat moored in a secluded basin somewhere west of Hyde Park.
As I think I've probably mentioned to you before, he's crafted his own world there, in a way that seems impossible for Current Decade (or, indeed, for London of any epoch). Half old-school Bay Area hippietech, half Korean Zen temple and entirely 100% his own, the space he's carved out of a few hundred square feet strewn along the canal bank is extraordinarily peaceful and relaxing to spend time in.
Philly soul purrs from good speakers — Gamble & Huff at just the right volume, here so very far in time and space from their originary milieu. The neighbor's cat wanders by, followed shortly by the neighbor. A few beers are cracked. The vibe, improbably, reminds me of nothing so much as just the right kind of Finnish sauna, where conversation may well amount to just a few words per hour, no matter how fond the interlocutors are of one another. At close of day the little solar-powered fairy lights under the pear trees H planted wink on. It seems scarcely conceivable that this slow, easy-going, light-on-the-Earth life is unfolding inside the M25 — the thundering ring road that cleaves Greater London and its bustle and churn from the rolling landscape beyond.
And what's even better, so far as I'm concerned, is that H seems completely oblivious to the fact that many would TikTok TF out of such a lifeway, or otherwise spaff it across social media, for no greater reward than the momentary attention of a few thousand anonymous strangers. There's no aspect of what he's put together that is in any way intended to garner clout or praise or social capital. That I can see, he's never once thought to perform his lifestyle for an audience, in the way I suspect most of us acculturated to the self-mediating imperatives of our moment would be inclined to.
He doesn't seem to feel the need to accessorize or announce his way, or even let on to much of anyone that this is how he does things. Other than the de-facto subculture of folks who live on narrowboats, committed by the peculiar conditions of their existence to a certain thrown-together neighborliness and mutual aid, he doesn't belong to any lifestyle or affinity group. He's just out there doing it — like huge numbers of others, I have to suppose, whose ongoing efforts in this domain (and a million parallel ones) are pursued entirely for their own sake, and therefore latent in the world and invisible to the rest of us.
If I sound wistful, and maybe a tad jealous, it's because I am. It isn't simply that H manages to live a full London life of remarkably compact footprint and ludicrously little comparative expense, though of course those are circumstances that might set anyone to second-guessing their life choices. It's that this is who he is. His spatial decisions, and the dwelling-place they give rise to, flow organically from his embodied intelligence, in a way that almost certainly cannot be taught, trained or transferred, however much anyone may wish to. You have to be this kind of person to make this kind of place, in other words...and if I am not this kind of person at the age of 56, I tend to doubt whether I'll ever become one.
Best, maybe, to simply appreciate what H has been able to do, to be grateful that he and his canalside sanctuary yet exist, and to spend as much time with him there as possible.
§ A few Lifehouse-related orders of business to cover, firstly and centrally that the book is now available for pre-order direct from Verso. Get your order in now, and it will ship immediately on launch date, July 9th — you'll be one of the very first to get your hands on a copy.
I also want to give you a heads up about the following in-store events we've got confirmed, one of which will hopefully be convenient to you:
- July 24th: London UK, at good ol' Housmans in the Caledonian Road, with Shiri Shalmy. Free, but you have to book tickets (and I recommend doing so now if you plan on attending, as the space isn't huge and we rather expect it will fill up quickly).
- August 1st: Seattle WA, at Elliott Bay Book Company, with Dean Spade.
- August 3rd: Long Beach CA, at the wonderfully-named Page Against The Machine, with Cory Doctorow.
- August 6th: San Francisco CA, at Green Apple Books (their 9th Avenue location).
- August 8th: Portland OR, at Powell's.
- August 19th: Bristol UK, at Bookhaus.
Like I say, it'd be swell to see you at one of these events, and/or the inevitable drinks after. That's it for the time being, but do keep an eye opened here or at Mastodon for further event announcements.
§ Right now I'm reading this astonishing interview with game theorist C. Thi Nguyen, which will grab you even if, like me, you neither spend much time playing games nor particularly care about the body of thought that's sprung up around them (and thanks to my friend Deb Chachra for the heads up); listening to the heavy Korean post-rock ensemble JAMBINAI, who make traditional instrumentation do thinks it was never intended for; and not really watching anything to speak of, as I've been falling asleep these past few weeks the moment I climb into bed.
Otherwise? I hope you are well, that you have your feet planted solidly on the good Earth, and that you are doing as I have always asked of you: taking care of those who need you, taking care of yourself, and letting others take care of you.
You have, as ever, all my faith.
ag
ldn
This is Dispatch from London No. 128 of Sunday, 23 June 2024, offered to you under the terms of a Peer Production License. You are free to reuse this content, but must acknowledge Adam Greenfield as its author. ◊