Obituaries
Discover more from Meditations in an Emergency
When I buy a newspaper in print, I often read the obituaries first. It’s nothing macabre, though maybe it’s odd, I just find it a gentler path into the news. Though I’m sure I’ll get to a point where I’m mostly reading about people my age dying, and that’s hard, but for now that remains thankfully rare. All of which is to say I don’t read obituaries and feel I’m glad I’m not dead, it’s more like I wonder if my life will turn out so interesting.
In the United States, the New York Times does obituaries best in my opinion, probably because there’s a desk of writers dedicated to the job. And I appreciate how often in the Times it’s the marginally, maybe quirkily famous who get the treatment. “Bob Born, Who Brought Marshmallow Peeps to the Masses, Dies at 98.” “Stella Stevens, Hollywood Bombshell Who Yearned for More, Dies at 84.”
Here’s a bit from a recent obituary for British cyclist Eileen Sheridan, who died at 99 having “excelled at long-distance time trials and set several records that still stand more than 70 years later” –
At 4 feet 11 inches tall, Mrs. Sheridan was known as the Mighty Atom, and, like her namesake, she caught the attention of a country trying to make sense of the war and its atomic aftermath. It was the golden age of cycling, when millions of British people took every chance to pedal beyond their bombed-out cities to the peaceful countryside, and many looked to Mrs. Sheridan for inspiration.
Clay Risen, an old friend of mine, wrote that piece. He’s one of those full-time Times obituary writers. (He also writes about whisky and history, and has published numerous interesting books on both.)
I reached out Clay this week to ask what he likes about the job. “At this point I'm not sure there's any other beat I'd rather cover,” he said. “Each assignment is something new. It's a bit like Quantum Leap, in which each episode takes you into a different life, a different part of history. And in the same way that Scott Bakula had to resolve a sort of crisis in the course of the episode, my job is to find the through line for a person's life, to explain, in a brief, tight narrative, why it mattered. There is great beauty and pathos in that. Obituaries are not about death, but life; they are simply occasioned by death.”
At this point Clay has written a lot of obituaries; here’s his archive. He spoke about the kinds of things that show up repeatedly in people’s lives. “Most people are good folks, but they are complicated. Most people make sacrifices. Most people face significant challenges at one point or another. Most people overcome them, but they are marked, sometimes scarred, by the experience. Most people are just trying to get through life,” he said. “If they have an obituary, then in some sense, they will always be remembered. As an obituary writer, I take that responsibility very, very seriously, and as a humbling honor.”
An obituary is what? An offcut of history. Marks to remind us the past is real. At the end of our exchange, Clay cautioned me not to present all of this too heavily. “Obituaries are a joy to write. Fun, even. I love history and that's what obituaries are. I love the weaving together of an individual's life story and the historical context around them. And at the Times, at least, we get a little room to play with form and tone, so that when it's appropriate, we can be humorous, sonorous, or grave. For a newspaper beat, there's nothing like it.”
Something new: I’m going to start doing an occasional “ask the schmauthor” section in the Sunday supplements. Do you have a question about book publishing? Literary agents or magazine writing? Artistic processes generally? Reply to this email and let me know, and I’ll do my best to draw back the curtain.
In tomorrow’s supplement for supporters, a bunch of things to love:
A favorite new album of music to work to, plus podcast/streaming options that are great for some cooking/working/relaxing auditory companionship
Some of the stranger obituaries I’ve seen
The best croissants in Paris, a strong response to a symphony, and other highlights from the week in online viewing, listening, and reading
What the what
Meditations in an Emergency is a weekly dispatch from author Rosecrans Baldwin about something beautiful. Supporters receive a Sunday supplement with 3+ things to love, along with a longer piece once a month sent from the road, for some inbox wanderlust. ⛰️
Books mentioned in Meditations in an Emergency are stored in a Bookshop list.