Fungible Convictions

I’m making my way through Ted Kennedy’s memoir True Compass. As reviewers have said, it doesn’t break new ground, neither in Kennediana nor in memoir-writing. But what makes True Compass worthwhile is having the Kennedy family act as a thread for following major events of the 20th century.

For example, Ted’s sister Kathleen was a fine writer who authored many private essays, and Ted quotes an unpublished essay she wrote about life in London during WWII, when Londoners were preparing for German bombing campaigns. Her writing is funny, touching, and seemingly emotionally accurate—and is an illustration of Kennedys telling their story against the backdrop of big-h History.

You Ted fumbled with the black[out] curtain . . . to prevent the last ray of light from shining through. Within five minutes three air-raid wardens called to complain of great streaks of light shining through the window. . . . Jean sprained her ankle in falling downstairs. Joe returned from an exploring trip with a very swollen eye. No one believed his story of walking into a lamp post, until we read in the next morning’s paper, of hundreds bumping into trees, falling on the curb and being hit by autos. . . . Thus, now one hears [the] tap, tap, tap, not of machine guns, but of umbrellas and canes as Londoners feel their way homeward.

I saw two coworkers cry at the news today that Senator Ted Kennedy had died.

Both grew up in New England, and both weren’t exactly sure why they reacted so. Kennedy had just always been there, they said.

I’m many years too young to remember Chappaquiddick, though my introduction to Ted Kennedy was ultimately through Joyce Carol Oates’ novella Black Water, a reimagining of that event. After living in Boston for seven years, though, I’ve found his presence is everywhere. Everywhere. This death is a loss in so many senses here—of suddenly not finding something that was always there, of there being a hole, of not knowing your way, and having no words. The whole place and its people are at a loss.

My sincere hope is that this focus on Kennedy, the long-time Senator and champion of the underprivileged—despite or because of his own privilege—enhances a clear focus on his last crusade, namely, health care. There would be no greater tribute to a conflicted man than to take the most conflicted issue of our time, one that he took on as his legacy, and sort it out.

Godspeed.