December 30, 2019

Early dark morning, waiting to take Circe for her procedure. She crawled so gently into bed and up against my chest that I didn’t know she was there until I woke.

Thought about what I should remember of this year. On the good side, I brought out two novels. They have not made much of a splash, or if they have I’m late in hearing about it, but they are good and I am proud of them. That they have made less of a splash than many MANY not as good as they is part of my old argument with the clouds. Not in the mood just now. But, I set them as a seal upon my heart.

Finished Diving into the Moon, Tub, and Jason of the Apes. What their fate may be cannot be imagined, but they too are good. To them I have done justice. Maybe I should summarize all with that: I have done justice.

My garden was excellent.

The sweetness of people extending their time and talents to realize my plays.

Unusual number of testimonials from former students, and friends. Maybe they sensed my need.

Made an important journey to the Holy Land, which I continue to contemplate.

The worst of it was witnessing the death of the university to which I dedicated my academic career. It may continue as a degree-granting apparatus, but its relevance as an institution of higher learning is gone, or at least interrupted. You cannot at once falsify and stand for truth. You cannot serve both authoritarianism and free thought. You cannot reward mediocrity and claim to honor excellence. You cannot move forward with the administration more important than the thing administered. You cannot pretend forever to be something you have stopped being. I have been a voice crying in the wilderness, and I am not good at it. It never occurs to me that anyone hearing the truth might hate it.