Office Space
On Toni Morrison's desk lamp, estate sales, decadent iced tea.
I’ve always been interested in the desks of authors. Artists and directors and designers and all kinds of other people, too. But because I have always wanted to be an author, it’s their spaces I most wish to weasel out. Ironically, it’s a favorite procrastination technique, a thing I often do instead of the necessary work. Writing is hard; perhaps looking at Elizabeth Hardwick in her Castine, Maine, living room will help. But, reader, it sometimes does.
Looking is just a step away from attempting to own. We can blame capitalism for my desire to purchase proximity to literary greatness. Will buying a reticulated red lamp, almost identical to the one that illuminated Toni Morrison’s own desk, suffuse its owner with indefatigable brilliance? Would a Didion-esque maxi dress? Almost certainly not. Yet because Brian Boyd cited it as Nabokov’s favorite dictionary, upon turning in my college senior thesis on the author’s later novels I rewarded myself with a copy of Webster’s New International (2d ed.), a fat 9-by-12 volume published in 1949. It weighs 17 pounds.
Then there are the specific items that really did belong to literary titans. I’m still devastated that in 2019 I didn’t place a bid on any of the lots in Litchfield County Auction’s sale of the Philip Roth Estate. Two end tables and a chair “with some scuffing, but the rush seating is fine” sold for $80. The second of two IBM Selectric typewriters, $4,800.
The written ephemera is easier to come by. A letter from Kingsley Amis declaring: "I do not send photographs of myself to people I have never met." A ship’s wine card through which Ernest “Papa” Hemingway ordered “2 Sherry 1 Gin Tonic.” An envelope signed by Langston Hughes. (As ever, buyer beware.)
And then there are the houses! The home of Theodor Geyser, better known as Dr. Seuss, is soon to go to market; Mark Twain’s Connecticut estate, rebuilt after a fire in 1923, awaits its next resident. John Steinbeck’s Sag Harbor retreat is available for a cool $17mil.
Of course, arguably the best and simplest way to be close to any author is through reading their books. For that there are libraries, your local bookstore. But when the brain needs a break, or a sharp little reminder that writing is work, for another free-ninety-nine there are pictures of them at their desks. One of my favorite interviews I’ve ever done was with Marlon James for Vanity Fair, about his workspace. We photographed him in his office, its walls papered in scene notes and research on Ethiopian fortresses, the desk and shelves stacked high with copies of Aeschylus’ The Oresteia and novels by Ursula K. Le Guin.
“I can’t imagine not reading while I’m writing,” James said. “’Cause usually what people say is that they don’t want to be influenced. I’m like, ‘You can only hope!’”
Read…
…Edward P. Jones’ perfect collection of short stories set in Washington, D.C.; two books about searching for answers about a beloved sister’s death; and Patrick Radden Keefe’s latest. I wrote about them here.
Drink…
…a souped-up iced tea latte. The only coffee shop for which I have a strong emotional attachment closed last month. For over a decade, every time I visited my parents I’d walk from their house in San Francisco’s Outer Richmond, through the eucalyptus trees and wood chip piles of Golden Gate Park, to Trouble Coffee. There were melt-in-your-mouth slices of cinnamon toast, whole coconuts served with a straw, and a drink called a Hippie Girlfriend: earl gray tea, soy milk, lavender simple syrup. Comfort in a paper cup. (The third act of this episode of This American Life is dedicated to the shop.)
At my own local bakery, South Portland’s much-hyped and incredibly delicious Scratch, there’s a Ginger Milk Tea. As above, but with a ginger syrup. Now that the weather is H-O-T, it’s best over ice.
Boil about a half a cup of water.
Steep your black tea. My trick is to do this before taking the dog for a walk, so that it’s incredibly strong and room temperature upon my return.
Pour about a cup of milk or your alternative of choice over ice. (I like two extra-large cubes in a wide-mouth mason jar.)
Add your tea.
Add your syrup—lavender from Monin or this recipe, ginger from Cheeky Cocktails or this recipe—to taste.
A dash of vanilla extract for extra credit.
P.S.
Carmen Maria Machado is always a good idea.
Eat chocolate, support a library.
I love this newsletter! And Marlon James' hopes on being influenced by his fellow great writers.