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Standing in a present that had once been an unimaginable future

Rebecca Solnit looks at how the next era comes after the end of the last one. In between comes a lot of falling apart.


We forget our past—good and bad—at our own peril.

“If knowledge is power, memory and perspective are among its most important aspects,” writes one of our more thoughtful chroniclers of this time of turmoil. “Only in the long view can you see the patterns emerging, the way the present builds on the past, the way past surprises guarantee more surprises are coming.”

Change is all around us. “If you don’t see time on the scale of change,” however, “you don’t see change; if you don’t remember how things use to be, you don’t know they’re different than they were and how that unfolded.”

The Beginning Comes After the End: Notes on a World of Change (2026) by Rebecca Solnit is the eighth in a series of Haymarket Books by the longtime climate and human rights activist, historian, and writer. Like the others in this collection it looks back to remind us of how far we have come. It is full of insightful perspectives and clear, compelling writing. Unlike some of the others, however, this newest work reads more as a whole piece rather than a series of essays. That seems appropriate given the topic. Solnit takes the reader back to times when those pushing for change appeared to be swimming upstream. We discover how seeds are planted and nourished even in dark, difficult times. The fierce backlash that comes against the future is made by enemies who “believe in us even when we don’t believe in ourselves,” bringing confirmation that “they believe we’ve changed the world in consequential ways, and with a coherent vision.” Those who believe in an interconnected, mutually supportive, and more open world have been far more successful than we believe. And, she asserts, “people who have long been consigned to the past were charting a viable future for all of us. ‘We’re the ancestors of tomorrow,’ said Madonna Thunder Hawk . . . so we behave accordingly.'”

Early in this hope-filled and forward-facing work, Solnit uses a well-known metamorphosis from nature as a metaphor for the transformation of society.

“The beginning comes after the end. A chrysalis is the beginning of a butterfly, but in that chrysalis is no elegant transition. The caterpillar falls apart—it turns to goo, and something profoundly different reconstitutes from it, guided by the hitherto dormant imaginal cells. In that slurry, the dissolving caterpillar’s immune system perceives the imaginal cells as alien and attacks them. But they survive, multiply, and set in motion the instructions to become a butterfly. A many-legged crawler becomes a six-legged winged creature, an animal that devours leaves becomes one that sips nectar from flowers . . . A butterfly is the end of a caterpillar. The beginning—the next era—comes after the end of the last one, and in between comes a lot of falling apart.”

We are in the middle of that time of falling apart. But nature—as well as our history—tells us a new era awaits.

We forget what it takes to go from genocide of indigenous peoples to a time of rights and recognition. That transition over decades seems simple and straightforward, “but heaven and earth, law and culture, had to be moved, shaken, reimagined, dismantled, and rebuilt in order to arrive at that day.” It isn’t a straight path. Those fighting against the future can take away rights, as we’ve seen with the current Supreme Court, but they cannot take away belief in those rights. Solnit asserts that if we look at history, we will see that those beliefs will prevail.

“Ideas have power, and while those who support them often dismiss that power, those who fear them recognize they can change the world.”

For those who take the time to stop and consider where we’ve come from, we see the old orders that have fallen apart, the systems that no longer work, the assumptions that no longer fit. “Cruelty, greed, and division are not new, but when the old order that institutionalized them is threatened, its beneficiaries come out fighting to hold onto advantages that use to go unquestioned.”

It is easier to see the old world dying than the new world being born. Solnit wants us to not only see that new world, but to work together to hasten its coming.

In many of her works, Solnit writes about how memory and history pose threats to authoritarian regimes. That’s why they work so hard to control it. “Amnesia,” she writes here, “can normalize the present while erasing the changes that led to it or the possibility of changing it.” Context gives us coherence, showing the patterns into which change fits.

Both Silent Spring author Rachel Carson and civil rights leader The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke often about how everything is connected. Solnit devotes a full chapter to that concept, with the title taken from a quote by Dr. King from Letter from a Birmingham Jail: “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” King, Solnit notes, “called that principle of connection and care love.”

In a recent newsletter, Solnit noted that she’s occasionally argued that the real divide in this country and beyond is better described as connectors and disconnectors, the relational and the isolated, than left and right. She builds on that distinction here. There are many who want to disconnect us from one another and from the world. The brutal politics we are experiencing is a backlash against the vision of interconnection. Solnit makes the case that the right sees “many elements—environmentalism, feminism, queer rights, equality, racial justice, and inclusion, even kindness—as related, as part of the same cosmology. The backlash seeks a return to hierarchy and segregation. To a world where some people matter more than others. Solnit wonders if this backlash is not, in fact, a supernova.

Solnit, whose first book in the Haymarket series is entitled Hope in the Dark, brings this work around to the hopeful possibilities that lay before us. As she wraps up this impressive book, she writes that “you can cut down the flowers, but you can’t stop the spring.” And because of that, we “don’t need to know the future to act in the present.”

Which is just as well since we are creating a world we’ve never seen.

More to come . . .

DJB


For my other reviews of Rebecca Solnit’s Haymarket Books, see the links below:


Photo by Krzysztof Niewolny on Unsplash

Bluegrass is for everyone

Bluegrass Pride: Working to make sure that if you love bluegrass, then bluegrass loves you right back.


In 2021 I wrote about cultural movements and histories that may surprise you. One of those was about the LGBTQ+ presence in traditional music. I was guessing at the time that you didn’t know that there was a Bluegrass Pride organization. Well, I’m here to tell you—here in Pride Month 2026—that it not only exists but that their members play great music. And they are not afraid to widen the boundaries of what has traditionally been a fairly conservative music community.

Bluegrass Pride began as a side project of the California Bluegrass Association. The original goal was relatively modest: bring bluegrass music to a new audience via a float at the 2017 San Francisco Pride Parade. The group quickly realized they had struck a chord (no pun intended). Here’s how the group’s website describes that initial foray into the Pride scene.

“In that first year, we celebrated Pride with hundreds of marchers and three float bands, representing the best of the local traditional American music scene: one youth band, one old-time band, and one traditional bluegrass band. Our picket fence float, live music, and enthusiastic marchers made a big impression, within the bluegrass scene and on Pride. We were named the Best of the Best at SF Pride 2017—bringing home the top prize out of 270 marching contingents. It was the first time that a first-time entrant to Pride had won the accolade.” 

Fast forward to this year, and the group is now operating as its own organization, “pursuing new avenues through which to provide more opportunities for the musical and professional development of LGBTQ+ bluegrassers, and for community development within the bluegrass scene.”

The group’s message is simple, yet clear:

“We want current bluegrassers to know that they are loved and treasured for who they are and the music they make. We want future bluegrassers to know that they are welcome to come as they are without fear of retribution or exclusion. We want the world to know that bluegrass and old-time music are for everybody, regardless of age, race, gender, orientation, nationality, upbringing, or politics. 

We want to make sure that if you love bluegrass, then bluegrass loves you right back.”

One way they will do that is with the first Camp Bluegrass Pride 2026 in beautiful Astoria, Oregon.* I thought it would be fun to hear some of the music of the instructors from the camp as well as from some of the artists who have been carrying this torch for some time.


NOA EVE AND FOG HOLLOW

Noa Eve will be one of the bass instructors at Camp Bluegrass Pride this year. A bassist and composer, Noa grew up in Buffalo, New York, graduated from SUNY University at Buffalo with a BA in music performance, and furthered their studies at UCLA, where they received their master’s, also in music performance. “Noa had their first experiences playing folk music at UCLA, and since then has worked to marry their virtuosic, classical style of bowing with the rhythmic needs of bluegrass and old time.”

They play with the band Fog Hollow and can be heard here in the tune Burning Down and Bodega Rock. The latter features some nice fiddle/bass interplay.


CJ LEWANDOWSKI AND THE PO’ RAMBLIN’ BOYS

CJ Lewandowski is the mandolin instructor for Camp Bluegrass Pride 2026. In his regular life, CJ is best known as the mandolinist and co-founder of the Grammy-nominated Po’ Ramblin’ Boys. His powerful mandolin builds on the traditional, Monroe-style drive.

Po’ Ramblin’ Boys (credit Laci Mack)

“With the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, CJ has helped lead one of the most exciting modern bluegrass bands on the scene, earning international acclaim, IBMA honors, and a Grammy nomination for Best Bluegrass Album. His playing is precise, soulful, and fearless. His love for teaching and community shines just as brightly as his musicianship.”


NELSON WILLIAMS AND NEW DANGERFIELD

Another bass instructor at Camp Bluegrass Pride 2026 is Nelson Williams.

An upright and electric bass player based in New Orleans, Williams was born and raised in South Louisiana, a “child of the diverse and influential music culture that permeates throughout the region.” He has performed across the nation and abroad, is a founding member of the Black string-band, New Dangerfield, and a member of the acclaimed bluegrass band, Chris Jones and the Nightdrivers.

New Dangerfield “brings together Afrofuturist fiddler Jake Blount (see below) with composer, songwriter, and old-time banjo player Kaia Kater, bluegrass banjo iconoclast Tray Wellington,” and Williams. “Embodying the innovative aspects of the Black string band tradition, Wellington, Kater, Williams and Blount are well-acquainted with the contemporary, the experimental, and the speculative.”

Put No Walls Around Your Garden is a reminder that the only way we’ll get through is together. Rather than walling ourselves off, “now is the time to throw open our garden gates and welcome each other in. Share our abundance, work through our scarcity and lack, and care for each other’s needs—big or small.”

The group takes their name from Dangerfield Newby, one of five recorded Black abolitionists among John Brown’s raiders who died while taking part in Brown’s infamous raid on a federal armory in Harpers Ferry, Virginia in 1859. By taking traditional instrumental tunes and turning them on their ear, “the band demonstrates the unique prism through which they make music and synthesize these age-old folkways. Each of these four powerful artists has risen to carry the torch for the ancestors who first built this music, but have been forgotten and erased today.”


CARRYING THE TORCH: JAKE BLOUNT

Several well-known musicians in the field have been standing with the community’s LGBTQ+ musicians for some time. Jake Blount, a member of New Dangerfield and a former board member of Bluegrass Pride, is both an advocate for the the Queer community and someone who is well known for stretching boundaries.

Blount specializes in the music of Black communities in the southeastern United States, and in the regional style of the Finger Lakes. A versatile performer, Blount interpolates blues, bluegrass and spirituals into the old-time string band tradition he belongs to. He foregrounds the experiences of queer people and people of color in his work.” 

In 2020, Blount’s first full-length solo album, Spider Tales, was released on Free Dirt Records & Service Co. The album debuted at #2 on the Billboard Bluegrass Chart. Rolling Stone wrote of one of the songs on the album:

A queer and black performer working in Appalachian music, Blount gives an eerie, gender-flipped rendition of Leadbelly’s “Where Did You Sleep Last Night” — famously covered by Nirvana — that’s heavy on mournful fiddle and every bit as unsettling as the original.

That’s followed here by a 2022 rendition of Death Have Mercy played, I suspect, as you’ve never heard it before.


DELLA MAE

Della Mae (or the Dellas as they call themselves) are “women, writing from women’s perspectives, taking their cues from bluegrass and old time music.” As they say on their website, “We are 50% queer, and 100% supportive. We believe that representation, queer voices, and allyship are important in music. We’re not necessarily typical of traditional music, and we love representing our identities and values in new spaces.”

While unafraid to get political, the most topical songs early in their career were based in history, such as Boston Town.

As the writer of the Bluegrass Pride blog wrote about a recent performance by the group,

Magic Accident brings us more of what we’ve come to love from Della Mae: tight harmonies, brilliant songwriting, and—practically oozing out of the seams—a sense that someone else gets it. It’s a sonic group hug.”

“In 2020, Della Mae reset and came out swinging with Headlight—a record tackling sexual assaultinfertility, and the strength needed to carry on in no uncertain terms. They followed it with Family Reunion, centered on “The Way It Was Before”, their clearest statement yet that we are in the present, talking about today’s issues.”

But that didn’t mean that the band lost sight of “the joy needed to sustain the revolution.” Just give a listen to Dry Town and try not to smile.

“‘Cause it’s dry town | No beer, no liquor for miles around | I’d give a nickel for a sip or two | To wash me down | Outta this dry town”


MOLLY TUTTLE

Molly Tuttle is another musician who has been featured on Saturday Soundtrack multiple times—see here, here, here, and here for instance—and who has spoken up for Bluegrass Pride. For today’s post she sings a bluegrass (sort of) version of the Rolling Stones song She’s A Rainbow. It includes powerful statements about gender and equality. As I wrote in the original post in 2021, getting all parts of the bluegrass world to support rights for the LGBTQ+ community may be the definition of hard work, but it is work worth doing.

If you’d like to dig deeper, here’s a soundtrack provided by the Bluegrass Pride website.

Enjoy, and Happy Pride month everyone!

More to come . . .

DJB


*Claire and I visited Astoria on our cross-country drive in 2015. It really is a special place. If you click on the link, you’ll get a hint of what we discovered.


Photo of Bluegrass Pride pins from the Bluegrass Pride website. Photos of the musicians from their various websites.

The return of the septuagenarian sleuths

Richard Osman’s second installment of the Thursday Murder Club is just as delightful as the debut novel in this series. And yes, I’m aware that there are now five volumes in this series . . . I’m a bit late to the party.


Not every effect of the pandemic was profound. Yes, we all faced tremendous loss, a sense of disorientation, and anger. But some effects, truth be told, were frivolous. You can place my sudden infatuation with detective fiction in the latter category. I began reading them merely to pass the time. There was the added bonus—at a time when reality was full of uncertainty—that these stories generally came to a satisfactory conclusion. I called it my “Year of Reading Dangerously” and the genre has continued to be a staple of my reading diet.

In that initial year, my friend and Brilliant Reader Barbara introduced me to the septuagenarian sleuths of the Thursday Murder Club. At the time I had no idea there was such a thing as a light, witty, and—most surprising of all—big-hearted mystery novel. It took a while but I’ve now worked my way back to the second in the series, an equally clever, fun, and engaging read.*

The Man Who Died Twice (2021) by Richard Osman returns us to Coopers Chase, a high-end peaceful British retirement village on the grounds of a former convent. The four residents turned septuagenarian sleuths meet weekly in the Jigsaw Room to discuss unsolved crimes from old police files in “a two-hour slot free between Art History and Conversational French. They book the room under the name ‘Japanese Opera: A Discussion’, which ensures they were always left in peace.” Ex-spy Elizabeth Best; Joyce Meadowcroft, who retired after a career in nursing; the tattooed former union organizer Ron Ritchie; and Ibrahim Arif, an Egyptian-born semi-retired psychiatrist call themselves the Thursday Murder Club. The contractor Bogdan Jankowski—who likes to play chess with Elizabeth’s current husband Stephen—is back as are PC Donna De Freitas and DCI Chris Hudson. The four club members are also in contact, for this case, with two active MI5 agents, Sue Reardon and Lance James.

This story begins as Douglas Middlemiss, Elizabeth’s second husband who she met when they were agents in MI5, asks for her help with a case. Douglas has been accused of stealing diamonds worth millions from the wrong men and he’s on the run. The bodies begin to pile up quickly and it is clear that the murderer has no qualms about killing more, including our Murder Club members. There are a variety of plotlines and characters to keep everyone guessing including a local drug dealer who likes to play games with the police, a life-changing event for Ibrahim, and the developing love life between Chris and PC De Freitas’s mother Patrice.

Osman is an engaging writer, using a breezy style that suits the material. He’s only 55 years old in real life but he has clearly spent time around folks in their late 60s and older. He has clear affection for these retirees who maintain their spark for life. The thoughts and comments he puts into their heads and dialogue—such as the line “Joyce thinks about kneeling, but really, kneeling over the age of sixty-five is a pipe dream”—are spot on and many times laugh out loud funny. He also has Joyce insert intermittent diary entries, which one reviewer notes “serve as an analogy to a Greek chorus as well as providing interludes of humor.” And, as would only happen to someone not born and bred in the internet culture, Joyce naively chooses an Instagram username that invites thousands of pictures of men not suitable for work. Her adult daughter sets her straight. “Needless to say, I haven’t changed it” she writes breezily in her diary, with a sense of glee and satisfaction.

Once again there are twists and turns throughout that are as surprising as the final outcome. The Man Who Died Twice is a book that will lead you to laugh, tear up, think, and ultimately compel you to turn page-after-page. Getting to the conclusion is just as much fun and pleasurable as the debut in this series. Enjoy!

More to come . . .

DJB


NOTE: A movie version of this series is now streaming on Netflix with a fabulous cast, including Helen Mirren as Elizabeth.


*I just read another reviewer’s take on the fifth book in this series . . . so I know I’m a bit behind, or late to the party. Whichever you prefer.


Photo of Englefield, the setting for the movie version of the Thursday Murder Club, via Wikimedia Commons.

From the bookshelf: May 2026

Five books at a minimum. Every month. A variety of topics from different genres. Here is the list from May 2026.


How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith (2025) by Mariann Edgar Budde opens with a description of the events on Lafayette Square on June 1, 2020 and concludes with the full sermon from the January 21, 2025 Inauguration Prayer Service. Both events were pivotal moments in the life of the nation and the Episcopal Diocese of Washington. Both involved the bishop and the president. In between those two flashpoints, Bishop Mariann takes the reader through seven lessons taken from her life and others that helped her navigate these and many other decisive moments. She begins, appropriately, with taking the first step. She ends with the virtue of perseverance. Picking yourself up after the inevitable fall and placing one foot in front of the other. I would have appreciated seeing more joy thrown into the mix but the bishop has written her book, one that speaks to the many aspects of what it means to persevere in having courage, sometimes in spite of the evidence in front of us.


Beezus and Ramona (1955) by Beverly Cleary was the first in the famous series of children’s novels featuring Ramona Quimby, the little girl “with a wild imagination, disregard for order, and an appetite for chaos.” We learn in the very first chapter that “Beatrice Quimby’s biggest problem was her little sister Ramona.” (Beatrice is called Beezus because that’s what Ramona called her as she first began to talk.) Cleary’s book is a series of delightful vignettes where Ramona—who always seems to get her own way—finds ever new and creative ways to drive Beezus crazy. This is not a normal read for me, but I have two book-related quests underway this year and this short children’s classic gave me a chance to check off a box in each of those efforts.


Things Seen (originally published in French in 2000, published in English in 2010) by Annie Ernaux (translated by Jonathan Kaplansky) is a “journal” where Ernaux turns her piercing observational talents to small and often seemingly insignificant events and actions around her. The reader follows the interactions with a clerk in a store, discussions at a condominium meeting, a shoplifting incident at the Yves Saint Laurent hosiery counter. After an attack at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence she observes that there is more seeming concern over the damage to the paintings than to the men, women, and baby who died. She stands looking over mounds of tomatoes, peaches, and grapes at the local food store and has the strange sensation she is at the edge of Eden, seeing the first morning of the world. The mix between fiction and memoir helps us understand this captivating, intimate, and unflinchingly honest writer. Ernaux was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2022 “for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory.” In reading this slim volume, one finds out about the writer, yes; but also—in observing how we react—about ourselves.


We’ll Always Have Casablanca: The Life, Legend, and Afterlife of Hollywood’s Most Beloved Movie (2017) by Noah Isenberg is a rich account of this most beloved movie’s origins as an unproduced stage play, its production as America’s involvement in World War II was beginning, its release just weeks after Allied troops landed in Morocco, and its long afterlife as a touchstone for our better angels. Isenberg, a noted film historian, conducts extensive archival research coupled with interviews of filmmakers, film critics, family members of the cast and crew, and diehard fans. The result is a deep yet swiftly moving, comprehensive yet tender account of the movie that millions around the world continue to watch and love.


The Paul Street Boys (1907) by Ferenc Molnár is a captivating and surprisingly emotional novel that explores themes of loyalty, sacrifice, and the loss of innocence. Set in 1889 Budapest, the story centers around two rival street gangs: the Redshirts and the Paul Street Boys. The two are fighting over a vacant lot they call their grund or “Fatherland.” Located in the crowded Józsefváros neighborhood, the grund offers the boys a “limitless” space for play, creativity, and adventure. It is also a place that belongs only to them, away from the strict rules of the adult world. Throughout the book there are instances where the smallest member of the Paul Street Boys—Nemecsek—demonstrates that his bravery and loyalty surpass his size. In a scene reminiscent of David the shepherd boy taking down the giant Goliath, Nemecsek surprises and subdues Feri Áts, the fierce leader of the Redshirts. The book ends in tragedy, however, reflecting a loss of innocence and forebodings “of what life held in store.”


The Yellow Dog (1931) by Georges Simenon begins in Concarneau where M. Mostaguen, the local wine dealer, is wounded by a gunshot when returning home drunk from the local Admiral Hotel. Maigret, who is nearby organizing a mobile squad, is called in by the mayor to solve the crime. Settling in at the Admiral, Maigret soon discovers a set of unusual characters: Jean Servières, a retired newspaper man from Paris; Ernest Michoux, a doctor who has never practiced; Emma, the mysterious and complicated waitress at the hotel; and a strange yellow dog that seems to be haunting the neighborhood. Although each of the characters has their secrets, Maigret quickly focuses on the fact that Emma is hiding something that may be a key to solving the crime. He finally navigates the small town dynamics so that he can uncover the true nature of the crimes. Simenon sketches in the characters with an economy of means but also with an eye on understanding—without judgement—”the human condition in all its shades.”


When the Declaration of Independence Was News (2026) by Emily Sneff begins in Philadelphia in May 1776 and ends in Baltimore in January 1777. A historian of the founding era and an expert on the Declaration of Independence, Sneff wants her readers to understand why the context in which the text of the Declaration was communicated is so crucial to our understanding of history. Too often we assume that the Declaration of Independence came out of whole cloth. But that is the story in hindsight. The news of the action taken by the Continental Congress had to be spread by “printers, post riders, ship captains, civic leaders, soldiers, clerks, orators, preachers, diplomats, and translators.” As this new work makes clear, both the declaration and its dissemination are important. The Declaration’s story—told in 187 pages of insightful and well-written prose—is much more complex and fascinating than many imagine.


WHAT’S ON THE NIGHTSTAND FOR JUNE (Subject to change at the whims of the reader)

Keep reading!

More to come . . .

DJB


NOTE: Click to see the books I read in April of 2026 and to see the books I read in 2025


Photo by Michał Parzuchowski on Unsplash

Our country has a lot of problems. Napping isn’t one of them.

Naps. Billionaires. Corruption. Misdirection. There’s a thread here.


Napping is in the news these days. Our president is often caught napping on camera. It first came to my attention during his 2024 Manhattan criminal trial. Now it happens in the middle of meetings in the Oval Office. He came back from his third “annual” physical in 13 months at Walter Reed Military Medical Center last week and promptly fell asleep at a Cabinet meeting.

I’m actually okay with that. When he’s napping, he’s incapable of doing or saying something bonkers*, which seems to be his default position when he’s conscious.

Truth be told, I take a nap just about every afternoon. I find myself getting sluggish so I’ll set the timer for 25 minutes, turn off all the lights, put on some quiet meditative music, and fall off into slumberland. It is blissful, and I’m fortunate in this third stage of life to be able to indulge in some self care.

But you will note that I don’t have television camera lights shining on me as I nap. And no one—absolutely no one—thinks I should be president.


SLEEP IS VITAL

Babies cry themselves to sleep. Parents put a fussy toddler down for a nap with the expectation that they’ll be in a better mood when they wake up. Teenagers and young adults often resort to napping because they never seem to get enough rest.

Sleep in every stage of life is vital and for most of us naps are restorative. When I wake up from my power nap I am invariably refreshed. In a better mood. Able to jump back into life.

Perhaps you’ve noticed, however, that our napper-in-chief is never in a good mood. In public he always seems to be angry, condescending, vindictive, revengeful, mean. When he takes things that are not his to take, he does so because he thinks it is his right. When he is stopped or chastised, he lashes out. “It’s not illegal if the president does it” has never had such a workout as it is getting now in the courts of justice, much less in the court of public opinion.

Here’s a guy born on third base and yet life is so unfair. He’s always the victim. It’s never his fault.

Perhaps there’s something else going on besides lack of sleep.


PREDATORY PLUTOCRATS

Let’s pause to think about those “born on third base.” Many of the wealthy in our country, such as our president, don’t know any other form of life. They think they have earned those riches. Maybe they did. Most didn’t. But the larger question is at whose expense.

Two years ago Mother Jones magazine published a special edition entitled American Oligarchy. We think of oligarchs as Gilded Age tycoons or current-day Russians who built their fortunes on mineral extraction and transportation monopolies. As senior reporter Tim Murphy describes it, “This American oligarchy offers a twist on the pilfering of the commons that produced Russia’s. It is built on a different kind of resource, not nickel or potash, but you—your data, your attention, your money, your public square.”

Today’s American oligarchs are making billions and billions of dollars. And they are taking it from us. The American people.

A billion dollars is more money than anyone needs. Consider that $1 billion is 1,000 million. If you spent a million dollars a year, it would take you 1,000 years to spend all your money. And that’s not accounting for the rise in wealth that comes from investing.

I was at a dinner party recently when I made the statement that we don’t need billionaires. Some were surprised. But I suggested that even the “good” billionaires make money hand-over-fist in our rigged system in spite of the fact that they “do the right thing.”

MacKenzie Scott, the ex-wife of Jeff Bezos, was worth approximately $38 billion after her divorce in 2019. Since then she has donated $26 billion to various charities according to a recent article in Forbes. Looking at what she’s supported, she’s one of the good ones. And yet, as she’s given away those billions and reduced her stake in Amazon (the source of her wealth) by about 42%, she’s still worth $42.7 billion today, more than on the day of her divorce settlement. From January to April of 2026, she’s added $2.35 billion to her net worth. In our system, she can’t give away her wealth fast enough to offset the gains in value.

And remember, most billionaires aren’t as good hearted and philanthropic as MacKenzie Scott. Most are only too happy to live in, benefit from, and further corrupt a broken system. As Mother Jones reported, many of our current robber barons began in or still remain active in the tech industry. Marietje Schaake wrote in the eye-opening book The Tech Coup, “I do not want to live in a world dictated by technology companies and their executives.” Tech leaders, it can be shown, “do not have the mandate or, frankly, the ethics necessary to govern so much of our societies.”


LET’S TALK ABOUT THAT LACK OF ETHICS

Journalist Paul Waldman points out that so much of what ails us today can be tied to corruption, and then he focuses on the current administration. The slush fund of $1.776 billion in taxpayer money that the president wants to use at his discretion to distribute to the violent thugs who tried to overthrow the government on January 6th is just the latest.

But there’s corruption in our current government everywhere you look. The administration is taking bribes from Middle Eastern countries and cashing in on crypto scams. The president’s son-in-law is drumming up business from Gulf governments while negotiating on behalf of the United States. Media companies are selling out to the administration. The FBI Director is getting “VIP snorkel” outings on the hallowed site of the U.S.S. Arizona. The Secretary of Transportation is making a reality show, funded by sponsorships from the companies he regulates.

“Tech companies are blanketing the country in data centers everybody hates. Trump is handing out pardons to fraudsters, building golden statues of himself, and slapping his name on government buildings. None of Jeffrey Epstein’s rich and powerful buddies have gone to jail.”

And Texas Republicans have just nominated someone for the senate whose career in political corruption, as another writer has noted, “would shame many of the most illustrious charlatans in American history.” As the Puck cartoon shows, we’ve had some impressive charlatans in our past.

Sheesh.

A billion dollars is more money than anyone needs. When tied with the political corruption and the flow of money used to support politicians and systems that keep the wealthy from paying their fair share, the billionaires—good and bad—are taking advantage of a rigged system that is killing our democracy and our country.


TOO MUCH NAPPING IS NOT OUR PROBLEM

I don’t want to give naps a bad name. Naps have many benefits for the healthy adult. According to the National Sleep Foundation, when people napped around 30 minutes they had “better memory recall and superior overall cognition than both non-nappers and those who napped longer.” NASA tested the effects of power napping on astronauts and found it had an effective boost to performance and alertness.

But as is often the case with this administration, the media focuses on the wrong issues.

When the media focuses on the naps they are missing so much of the real story. The vengefulness as public policy. The turning over of critical government functions to unelected and unethical billionaires. The loss of America’s soft power around the globe. The war crimes. The cruelty for cruelty’s sake. The criminalization of immigration. The staffing of government with unethical and unqualified individuals. The corruption of the highest court in the land. The unprecedented looting of the public treasury by the most corrupt administration in American history.


WORK HARD FOR JUSTICE AND DEMOCRACY

Naps are good. I want us to continue taking naps. We’re going to need the energy to do the hard work to bring back a responsive government representative of all the people. To take back our country.

The famous first lines of Thomas Paine’s American Crisis—originally published in a bleak, dark winter 250 years ago—describe the challenges we have faced and surmounted and that we must still face and continue to conquer. We’ve been through difficult times before. But the actions of those who fought against tyranny—in the dismal winter of 1776, on the rolling farmland of Gettysburg, on the beaches at Normandy, on the streets of Birmingham, and in so many instances throughout our history—provide hope and a roadmap.

We can do hard things. But it certainly helps if we’ve taken a good power nap before we each make our unique contributions to the work to wrest power away from the oligarchs, tech bros, white supremacists, Christian nationalists, and their foreign autocratic allies. As we work hard for justice and democracy.

Sweet dreams.

More to come . . .

DJB


*That’s a technical term. I could have said “to endanger the country or line his own pockets.”


Photo of napping child from Getty Images on Unsplash.

Observations from . . . May 2026

A summary of the May posts from the MORE TO COME newsletter.


In the midst of the disruption and turmoil that can be found around us, I have been reminded of the quote that began somewhere in the 19th century but is most popularly associated with the great Negro League pitcher and philosopher Satchel Paige:

“It’s not what you don’t know that hurts you, it’s what you know that just ain’t so.”

My friend Alan Gregerman says that “not knowing” stuff is actually our superpower in a world calling out for fresh and better thinking. But not knowing something is very different than knowing something “that just ain’t so.” Unfortunately, we seem to be having an epidemic these days of “what you know that just ain’t so-itis.”  

We’ve all seen or known people who fear what’s next. They want to hang on to what they have and what they wish to be true. Fortunately, as the writer Ursula K. Le Guin notes, there are also those who realize the incredible amount we learn “between our birthday and our last day.”

To complicate the situation we’re bombarded with information that requires work on our part to filter and understand. In today’s over-stimulated, algorithm-driven social media environment, there is so much to absorb. Unfortunately, what comes through our phones and computers is usually designed to drive a certain—and not always beneficial—response.

As this month unfolded I found myself thinking, reading, and writing about the how, what, and why of learning.

Our parents, of course, are among our first teachers. Mother’s Day lessons from Mom highlights a few of the ways I was shaped by my extraordinary mother.

Yogi Berra famously said, “You can observe a lot by just watching.” Nobel laureate Annie Ernaux, in a work I reviewed this month, demonstrates that although we learn by observing, “the interpretations of reality are practically infinite.” Ernaux won the Nobel prize “for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory.”

Memory is a part of observation and key to our understanding of history. It is important, however, to remember Marie Howe‘s assertion that “memory is a poet, not a historian.” Memories fade with time and they change as others share the story of the same event. Points get lost—or found—in translation. What begins as metaphor ends up being repeated as fact. Memories are shaped and reshaped in thousands of ways we seldom recognize or acknowledge.

Travel is another way we learn. In three separate posts I wrote about some of my observations from a recent trip and the lessons absorbed from our guides, from the people we met in those countries, and from the sites themselves.

Finally, the lucky among us grow under the tutelage of mentors as I wrote in the top post in terms of reader views for May. If we are flexible enough in mind and spirit to recognize “how rich we are in knowledge, and in all that lies around us yet to learn,” we can maintain the seeking, trusting capacity for learning that we had as a two-year-old.

Let’s jump in and see what lessons I learned and what else I observed from the slow lane of life in the month of May.


READER FAVORITES

The top post in terms of reader views in May is a celebration of the knowledge I gained both professionally and personally from one of the first mentors in my life: Elizabeth Lyon. Liz, who celebrated her 100th birthday in May, was my first true role model as an executive leader and I have been telling others of the lessons I learned from her ever since. A mentor turns 100 is my appreciation for an extraordinary individual.

April’s top post—my interview with author Nathaniel Popkin about his new book Partly Strong, Partly Broken—continues to attract readers. Released on May 5th, the book has received strong press notices (click here). If you are interested in more of Nathaniel’s work, I recommend his Substack newsletter Two Feet On the Ground.


DOORWAYS TO LEARNING

Travel opens many opportunities for learning. In late April we boarded a plane to begin our most recent journey with National Trust Tours, this one a two-week trip to visit four countries and two continents. We opened with a week in Morocco, a fascinating, captivating, and altogether welcoming part of the world distinguished by its Berber, Arabian and European cultural influences. In three photographic essays I focus on highlights from our Moroccan explorations as well as a trip to see The Alhambra, in Spain. An expansive and beautiful World Heritage Site, I found myself drawn to the lessons provided in some of the smaller spaces at this Andalusian treasure.

Early next month I’ll wrap up with thoughts and photos from our visits to Seville, Gibraltar, and Portugal.


EXPLORING INDEPENDENT BOOKSHOPS

I continued to delight in my quest to visit all 29 independent bookshops in the DC region, this month with reviews of two books and the stores where I found them.

  • The impossible sister is the first in Beverly Cleary’s Ramona Quimby series. Published in the year of my birth (an important fact as revealed in the post), I wasn’t surprised to find such a classic at Politics & Prose—perhaps the premier independent bookshop in Washington.
  • Bonjour Books, DC is a delightful gem of a bookstore featuring French authors and subjects located in downtown Kensington. I feature that independent bookseller, and the book I uncovered there, in the post With one foot in fiction and the other in memoir.

ANOTHER BUSY MONTH FOR READING

Long airplane rides, days at sea, and holiday weekends provided ample time for reading in May. Besides the two books included in my posts on independent bookstores, I also reviewed:

  • Declaring our independence—An enlightening new book provides the history and context for how the Declaration of Independence became the genre-defining document that changed the world.
  • You must remember this—“Maybe there are better films than Casablanca, but there are probably none better loved.”
  • Courage—An uneven yet ultimately useful look at how we learn to be brave by Bishop Mariann Budde.
  • Navigating small town dynamics—An early work in Georges Simenon’s Inspector Maigret series leads the reader to consider the human condition in all its shades.

Also, the Supreme Court was back in the news in May for all the wrong reasons. The court’s ruling gutting the last of the landmark Voting Rights Act was not surprising. In many ways this has been the Chief Justice’s mission since his appointment. In A revolt against the future I link to several books I’ve reviewed through the years by historians, law professors, and journalists who have written about the work to cement inequality into American life. Anand Giridharadas reminds us that “We are living through a revolt against the future. The future will prevail.”

From the bookshelf: April 2026 captures short snippets on the six books I read in April . . . in case you missed one or more of them.


COMMENTS I LOVED

In my review of the Ramona Quimby children’s classic, I began by noting that readers may wonder why this made my reading list. Brilliant Reader Janet Hulstrand gave a strong defense of an adult’s right—and perhaps need—to read children’s literature.

“I suppose some people would (yes, reasonably) wonder why a 71-year-old man was reading a children’s book but I would definitely not be one of them. “Children’s literature is literature” is what I like to say whenever it seems that an explanation for why an adult might read a kid’s book for his or her own pleasure may be needed. I love reading classic children’s literature anytime but especially when I am feeling particularly discouraged about the state of the world, or maybe just the state of my own life. In those moments I often turn to Winnie the Pooh or Wind in the Willows, or Frog and Toad to cheer me up. The little-known Emil and the Soup Tureen by Astrid Lindgren (who is more famous as the creator of Pippi Longstocking) is also a guaranteed cheerer-upper; and any book with the irrepressible Ramona Quimby in it is on that list also.

Yet another lesson learned.


DON’T POSTPONE JOY

Thanks, as always, for reading. Your friendship, support and feedback mean more than I can ever express.

As you travel life’s highways be open to love; thirst for wonder; undertake some mindful, transformative walking every day. Recognize the incredible privilege that most of us have and think about how to put that privilege to use for good. Women, people of color, LGBTQ+ individuals, immigrants, public servants, and others can feel especially vulnerable . . . because they are. Work hard for justice and democracy as the fight never ends.

But also keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable. Take time to dawdle and dream. Let yourself be bewildered!

Leave enough empty space to feel and experience life. Those gaps are where the magic begins. When times get rough, let your memories wander back to some wonderful place with remembrances of family and friends. But don’t be too hard on yourself if a few of the facts slip. Just get the poetry right.

Be comfortable in the mystery. Seek the uplifting spirit that leads to a life of grace and wonder.

Grace to help us remember that we can do hard things. “Grace to never sell yourself short; Grace to risk something big for something good; and Grace to remember the world is now too dangerous for anything but the truth and too small for anything but love . . .”

Wonder to help us remember that “we are here to keep watch, not to keep.” Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. And bash into some joy along the way.

Life is finite . . . love is not.

Try to be nice. Always be kind.

More to come . . .

DJB


For the April 2026 summary, click here.


You can subscribe to MORE TO COME by going to the small “Follow” box that is on the right-hand column of the site (on the desktop version) or at the bottom right on your mobile device. It is great to hear from readers, and if you like them feel free to share these posts on your own social media platforms.


Photo of flowers by Georg Eiermann on Unsplash.

Navigating small town dynamics

An early work in Georges Simenon’s Inspector Maigret series leads the reader to consider the human condition in all its shades.


A prolific Georges Simenon wrote eleven Inspector Maigret novels in his first year of producing what would become a 75-book library. The fifth or sixth in the series, depending on which list one consults, takes the inspector to a coastal town where everyone, it seems, is hiding something.

The Yellow Dog (1931) by Georges Simenon begins in Concarneau where M. Mostaguen, the local wine dealer, is wounded by a gunshot when returning home drunk from the local Admiral Hotel. Maigret, who is nearby organizing a mobile squad, is called in by the mayor to solve the crime. Settling in at the Admiral, Maigret soon discovers a set of unusual characters: Jean Servières, a retired newspaper man from Paris; Ernest Michoux, a doctor who has never practiced; Emma, the mysterious and complicated waitress at the hotel; and a strange yellow dog that seems to be haunting the neighborhood.

Although each of the characters has their secrets, Maigret quickly focuses on the fact that Emma is hiding something that may be a key to solving the crime. After Mostaguen is injured there is an incident with poisoned drinks at the bar; a local customs official is shot in the leg; Servières disappears, is found, and brought back; and the jumpy mayor, in his haste to get the attacks off the front page of the local—and increasingly the Parisian—newspapers, has the police arrest a giant vagrant. Maigret, who has the vagrant under surveillance during one of the attacks, realizes that the truth lies elsewhere. He finally navigates the small town dynamics so that he can uncover the true nature of the crimes. As this is an early work in the series, Simenon also fills in more of Maigret’s character, especially with a touching coda at the end of the novel.

Throughout this work, Simenon’s profound interest in people is evident. He sketches in the characters such as Emma with an economy of means but also with an eye on understanding—without judgement—”the human condition in all its shades.”

The Times of London called Simenon’s books “gem-hard soul-probes.” The Yellow Dog is another of those works spare in words but deep in understanding and truth.

More to come . . .

DJB

*It is my intention to eventually work my way through all 75 works in the series, should I live long enough. To read my other reviews of Maigret novels to date see:

With one foot in fiction and the other in memoir

Exploring an earlier work of a Nobel Laureate discovered in a gem of an independent bookshop in Kensington, Maryland.

Installment #7 in my series on the region’s independent bookshops.


When the foreword describes a work as “a deceptively simple book, and a profoundly disarming one,” the reader instinctively knows that demands will be placed upon them. When the work is an early offering in the literary canon of a Nobel Laureate in Literature, the reader assumes that one will see the flowering of a style that many have come to know and appreciate over the decades.

Those things were certainly true of a slim volume I found in one of Washington’s more distinctive independent bookshops. Bonjour Books, DC was an unexpected find as part of my delightful quest to visit all 29 independent bookstores in the Washington region in 2026.

But first, let’s turn to the book.


Things Seen (originally published in French in 2000, published in English in 2010) by Annie Ernaux (translated by Jonathan Kaplansky) is a “journal” where Ernaux turns her piercing observational talents to small and often seemingly insignificant events and actions around her. The reader follows the interactions with a clerk in a store, discussions at a condominium meeting, a shoplifting incident at the Yves Saint Laurent hosiery counter. But there are also observations concerning an attack at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence where she comments on the fact that there is more seeming concern over the damage to the paintings than to the men, women, and baby who died. She stands looking over mounds of tomatoes, peaches, and grapes at the local food store and has the strange sensation she is at the edge of Eden, seeing the first morning of the world. The war crimes tribunal in Bosnia is a recurring part of her world, as are social issues such as poverty and AIDS. In one especially jarring piece Ernaux considers the world’s contrasting reactions to Princess Diana’s death and the starkly brutal political murders that occurred at the same time.

The deceptiveness of the simple observation juxtaposed with the disarming nature of the subjects comes through on page after page. In reading this slim volume, one finds out about the writer, yes; but also—in observing how we react—about ourselves.

Throughout Things Seen Ernaux drops snippets and off-hand comments that help us navigate her work. “Stories,” she writes at the end of the entry about the condominium board meeting, “are a need to exist.” Ernaux returns again and again to how we respond to the poor, including the man on the subway who shouts “Have a great day and a good weekend!” when no one will offer help. “The irony of poor people does not count; it’s not a weapon, just an annoyance,” she writes.

We learn, she asserts, by observing.

“The sensation of time passing is not inside us. It comes from the outside, from children who grow up, neighbors who leave, from people growing older and dying. Bakeries that close and are replaced by driving schools or television repair shops. The cheese department moved to the back of the supermarket, which is no longer called Franprix but Leader Price.”

Of course observations are ours, and “the interpretations of reality are practically infinite.” When a man stands alone in a store, turning his head in all directions, “perhaps his wife is trying on a pair of pants in a changing room. Or else she is playing hide and seek, enjoying shaking him off between the gardening products and the dog food . . . Or she has chosen this moment to leave him, taking the money and the car keys. Or simply she met another man and they are kissing in the cafeteria, making love in the washroom.”

The mix between fiction and memoir helps us understand this most personal of writers. Ernaux was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2022 “for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory.” Things Seen was the winner of the French Voices award, and it is the second work by Ernaux I’ve read to date. The first was 2022’s The Young Man, where the author uses the backdrop of a brief romance to explore themes of the movement back and forth between youth and age, of memory and time, of misogyny and class, of life’s pitfalls and pleasures. She is captivating, intimate, and unflinchingly honest. I look forward to exploring more of her works in the months and years ahead.


BONJOUR BOOKS, DC

I discovered this volume while visiting Bonjour Books, DC as part of last month’s Independent Bookstore Crawl. My friend Janet Hulstrand, who now lives full-time in France, alerted me to the existence of this small, two-room gem. Janet immediately sensed my hesitation and wrote, “not all the titles are in French, although many are.”

There is a wide variety for such a small space, including new works, staff picks, “easy to read” authors, and children’s books. When Candice and I visited we had a good discussion with the bookstore staff, found the small but intriguing English-language section, and promised to spread the word to all our friends (Francophiles and others). I subscribed to the shop’s monthly newsletter, which is a delight.

If your French is up to it, check out the video celebrating this small piece of France in the Washington region.


INDEPENDENT BOOKSHOPS VISITED

As an update, here are the independent bookstores I’ve visited so far in 2026:

That’s 14 out of 29 . . . we’re almost halfway there!

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo of woman looking out of a train window by CPW on Unsplash.

Medinas, mosques, masterpieces . . . Morocco (Part 2)

Part 2 of remembrances of a recent week spent in this fascinating North African nation while traveling with National Trust Tours.


After several days in Marrakech earlier this month, our tour group boarded a bus heading north. Driving from Marrakech through rolling countryside, farmlands, and mountains into Casablanca, one can see how the shape of the country has changed over the centuries: from shepherds watching their flocks to a mix of historic and new irrigation systems to bustling city streets teeming with construction. That change continues.

CASABLANCA AND THE HASSAN II MOSQUE

Over and over again we heard from our national guides that the French colonials built “slums” which are being razed for parks and new housing. Not all French colonial building, however, deserves such dismissive treatment.

Former Church of the Sacred Heart, Casablanca, an Art Deco masterpiece

The former Cathedral Church of the Sacred Heart in Casablanca (Cathédrale Sacré-Cœur), for instance, is a stunning Art Deco landmark built in the 1930s by French architect Paul Tournon. The church—which was never truly a cathedral—ceased religious operations after Moroccan independence in 1956 and now serves as a deconsecrated cultural center. There are also other fine examples of French colonial architecture remaining in the city.

Preparation for the 2030 World Cup is also leading the country to pick up the pace of new development. There were excellent examples of modern architecture everywhere, including Casablanca’s new Grand Theatre, which sits in the middle of the city’s historic district on Mohammed V Square. It features a striking contemporary design by French architect Christian de Portzamparc that blends modern performance spaces with the layout of a traditional Moroccan medina.

We were told multiple times that Morocco was the first foreign nation to recognize the independence of the United States, an event that occurred in 1777. Now in the 21st century, Morocco—as a moderate and forward-looking Islamic country with periods of religious toleration in its past and a long-term friendship with the U.S.—is seen by many as a source of stability in an increasingly unstable world.

After eating lunch in Rick’s Cafe, a facsimile—if that’s the right word—of the city’s mythical gin-joint . . .

. . . the main feature on our tour in Casablanca was the impressive Mosque of Hassan II, with its soaring minaret.

Overlooking the Atlantic, this is the only mosque in Morocco where non-Muslims are invited to visit. In 1980, during his birthday celebrations, King Hassan II announced that he wanted to build a landmark monument. Designed by the Moroccan-based French architect Michel Pinseau, work began in 1986 with many of the 10,000 craftsmen coming from across the country. It was completed in 1993 and is a remarkable landmark not only for the city but for the continent.

Hassan II Mosque as seen from the Atlantic Ocean (credit: Wikimedia)

RABAT

Rabat is the modern capital city of Morocco that is also undergoing a transformation in anticipation of the World Cup festivities. We toured the city by bus and spent time visiting the Hassan Tower and the famous Mausoleum of Mohammed V.

Hassan Tower

King Mohammed V ruled from 1927 to 1961 and is celebrated for protecting Morocco’s Jewish population of roughly 250,000 from the anti-Semitic laws and deportations of the Nazi-collaborationist Vichy French regime during World War II. When the Vichy government took control of North Africa in 1940, it pressured Morocco to enforce discriminatory race laws modeled on the Nuremberg Laws. Mohammed V fiercely resisted these measures, famously declaring that there were no Jews in Morocco, only Moroccan subjects, and that he would not associate himself with laws that treated them differently.

Mausoleum of Mohammed V

It is clear today that Mohammed V is venerated by the Moroccan Jewish diaspora. When he passed away in 1961, thousands of Jews attended mourning ceremonies and the country remains a powerful symbol of Muslim-Jewish-Christian coexistence. We saw synagogues and Christian churches alongside mosques in every city we visited.

Rabat has another reason for celebration. Since 2021, UNESCO has designated one city each year the World Book Capital, highlighting World Heritage Site cities dedicated to fostering literacy, lifelong learning, copyright protection and freedom of expression. In 2026 that city is Rabat, which is quite the book-lover’s haven.  The city houses 54 publishing houses and a growing number of bookstores. It also hosts the third-largest international book and publishing fair in Africa. Rabat has also been credited with empowering local women and youth through reading and fighting illiteracy, especially among underserved communities, stances which deserve celebration and support.

As we saw when we toured the city, Morocco’s capital is a bustling mix of old and new, much like the country itself.


TANGIER

We ended our visit to Morocco in the beautiful Northern African city of Tangier, the traditional port for African/European connection at the Strait of Gibraltar. In its old medina, shops, residences, and parks this African city has a distinctive, European feel.

However, there were also many elements to remind one that you were still in Morocco, a Muslim nation in Africa.

Synagogue Nahon was an unexpected treasure in Tangier. Here’s the description from ArchNet:

“Located on a dead end street off the rue des Synagogues in the Beni Idir quarter of the Tangier medina, this synagogue was constructed in the 19th century by Moïse Nahon, a prominent educator and scholar from an influential Jewish family in Tangier. The synagogue ceased activity in the second half to the 20th century, and subsequently fell into disrepair until its restoration in 1994 [with financial assistance from the Moroccan government]. It now functions as a museum. 

The prayer room of the synagogue is accessible via a small courtyard at the end of the entrance corridor. The interior is elaborately decorated in an Andalusian style. Carved stucco walls are decorated with a repeating motif featuring ornamental embedded columns, trilobe arches, and arabesques with floral and geometric motifs. Perhaps most remarkable is the Arabic calligraphy repeated in three medallions vertically aligned below the superior lobe. Under this elaborate decoration, the lower portion of the wall is lined with rectangular, carved wood panels. The center of the prayer hall opens to a ceiling that is also elaborately decorated, with a large skylight in the center. The wooden ark and panels above it are decorated with Hebrew calligraphy. The carved wood lectern is on the southern side of the prayer area.”

Our enthusiastic local guides told of the many Europeans who had bought residences in the city or came over for extended holidays. With views of the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, it is easy to see why.

Tangier is also a photographer’s delight. I’m told that it has great appeal for shoppers, and—truth be told—we did buy one of our few souvenirs from the trip during a delightful day in Tangier.

Our National Trust Tour travelers gather for drinks, conversation, and a picture aboard the World Voyager (credit: Arthur Bruyere of Gohagan Travel).

In a final post in this series, we’ll revisit our trip to Seville, Gibraltar, and Portugal.

More to come . . .

DJB


NOTE: To see Part 1, click here. To see my earlier post on The Alhambra, click here.


Photo from Rabat at top of post by Niklas on Unsplash. Unless otherwise credited, all other photos by DJB.

Declaring our independence

An enlightening new book provides the history and context for how the Declaration of Independence became the genre-defining document that changed the world.


Memorial Day calls on us to remember the more than 1.3 million American soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice in U.S. wars and military conflicts since 1775. An estimated 4,435 men and women died in the Revolutionary War when we broke our ties with England and established a new nation. A fascinating new book, published just in time for the 250th anniversary, focuses on that period.

As we move through the turbulence of our era and toward the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and the founding of our nation, this Memorial Day is an especially fitting time to reflect upon the values of sacrifice and community as well as the ideals that shaped us as a people. We are judged not just by what we build, but by what we choose to save and remember from the past.

When the Declaration of Independence Was News (2026) by Emily Sneff begins in Philadelphia in May 1776 and ends in Baltimore in January 1777. A historian of the founding era and an expert on the Declaration of Independence, Sneff wants her readers to understand why the context in which the text of the Declaration was communicated is so crucial to our understanding of history. Too often we assume that the Declaration of Independence came out of whole cloth. But that is the story in hindsight. The news of the action taken by the Continental Congress had to be spread by “printers, post riders, ship captains, civic leaders, soldiers, clerks, orators, preachers, diplomats, and translators.” As this new work makes clear, both the declaration and its dissemination are important. The Declaration’s story—told in 187 pages of insightful and well-written prose—is much more complex and fascinating than many imagine.

As Sneff writes in her introduction, “July 4th marks a rupture, a point of no return, and a national birthday. The Declaration of Independence is remembered as a genre-defining document. But that is only because, eventually, it worked.”

Through ten chapters that move around the country and Europe she asks straightforward questions: who knew what, where, and when, and why did that knowledge matter? Along the way she shows us how there was no single authoritative text, as almost every printed or manuscript copy of the Declaration produced in 1776 varies in format, type size, punctuation, capitalization, and spelling. Many Americans first heard the Declaration at public readings around county courthouse steps.

Sneff begins with a resolution that passed the Continental Congress in May of 1776. Some, including the king of Portugal, understood it to be a declaration of independence. And there were members of that Congress, including John Adams, who were certainly pushing towards that goal. News of King George III’s speech to open Parliament late in 1775 and Thomas Paine’s Common Sense arrived in Philadelphia early in the new year. Both helped set in motion the push towards independence.

The May resolution was fairly measured in tone but Adams then added a fiery preamble. While it didn’t declare independence, it made the strong case as to why this resolution recommending new governments was necessary at this moment. The fuse was lit—further sparked by a call that month from Virginia’s colonial assembly to make the break—that would lead to the writing and passage of the document we know today as the Declaration of Independence.

Getting to the Declaration wasn’t easy as the political situation in the colonies was challenging. In New Jersey, for instance, the royal governor was Benjamin Franklin’s son, William. He was soon headed for prison in Connecticut and a new delegation in favor of independence was headed to Philadelphia. That type of rapid change and shifting loyalties was occurring up and down the eastern seaboard. When the Congress agreed to the Declaration of Independence on the morning of July 4, 1776, the New York delegates abstained from the vote, coming around later to add their names and make it “unanimous.”

Simply declaring independence wasn’t enough. The new resolution needed to be published and distributed. And that’s where the body of Sneff’s book focuses. Many people learned about the Declaration through public readings and printed broadsides and newspapers. Sneff has a fascinating account of how the reading in New York led directly to the destruction of the statue of King George III, which was then melted down to make musket balls for the revolutionaries. That image, Sneff suggests, captures what it was like in New York in July 1776 as British troops amassed offshore.

In the following chapters we learn how smallpox profoundly impacted the news and reception of the Declaration in Boston. Clergymen, especially for the Church of England, were forced to make decisions around their oaths, faith, livelihood, and country. “Words and Wampum” describes how the Wolastoqey Indian nation became the first to recognize U.S. independence. It is ironic that the Declaration of Independence “asserted the sovereignty of the United States but it failed to represent the sovereignty of Indigenous nations, and instead painted those people as ‘Savages’ wreaking havoc on the ‘Frontiers.'”

Sneff is also effective in showing how ineffective the Continental Congress was in getting a copy of the Declaration to the foreign power that needed it most: France. The British actually had several copies in London—one of which was printed incorrectly and with some measure of misdirection in the British press—before an “official” copy reached the American envoy in Paris. The Congress’s “inability to get a copy of the Declaration of Independence to [envoy] Silas Deane, and their naïveté about the formality expected by European courts, hurt the United States” and may have prolonged the war.

It was in Baltimore in January of 1777 that the Continental Congress finally got around to having a new printing of the Declaration made as an “authenticated copy.” That version was known as the Goddard broadside because the printer was Mary Katharine Goddard. It marked the transition for the Declaration of Independence from “news to archival treasure.” Thirteen copies were made, all of which bore Goddard’s full name at the bottom as the printer of record, and were circulated to the thirteen states. Rhode Island’s copy is still in the state archives in Providence, although for some unknown reason a black ink stain blots out the name of Mary Katherine Goddard.

In the introduction, Sneff recounts the story of a letter John Adams writes to a female friend on July 5th, in which he encloses one of the earliest copies of the Declaration known to exist. In the letter he uses what Sneff describes as “his standard tone of well-meaning condescension toward the women in his life.” The book’s final story of Mary Katherine Goddard brings this worldview full circle. It took until 1920, with the passage of the 19th Amendment, for women to finally become recognized political actors in the United States, changing figuratively if not literally the Declaration’s “all men” to simply “all.”


The ideals first expressed in the Declaration have led men and women over the past 250 years to sacrifice their lives to protect—and yes, expand—the self-evident truth that all are created equal with certain unalienable rights. Places of sacrifice are sacred, even if current public officials have no understanding of what that means.

The sacrifice of ordinary men and women for the values and ideals set forth in the Declaration of Independence is why Memorial Day is so important.

More to come . . .

DJB

Image of John Trumbull’s famous 1818 portrait is often identified as a depiction of the Declaration’s signing, but it actually shows the drafting committee presenting its work to the Second Continental Congress. Credit: Wikimedia. Photo of Daniel Chester French’s Minuteman Statue at Concord by Ning Shi on Unsplash.