Eclipsed

Under the weather, literally, in rain country, but I would have been unable to get too excited for the great eclipse of Spring 2024 under any kind of sky. Drive five hours and climb a mountain and smoke a joint for four minutes of totality? I don’t think so. I experienced the eclipse of February 26, 1979, living in what used to be called a mother-in-law house (MLH), what now would be called an Additional Dwelling Unit (ADU), on a bluff over a lake, under ship hull grey skies. I remember a shadow blowing quickly and soundlessly by the windows, its darkness thickening, and then it moved on, and so did I.

Nick Paumgarten put up an interesting take of his recent eclipse experience in a Dispatch at The New Yorker site (9 April):

“Watching the Eclipse from the Highest Mountain in Vermont: People cracked cans of beer and smoked cannabis and popped mushroom gummies and ate smoked-meat sandwiches as totality approached at fifteen hundred miles per hour.“

We seem doomed to a craving for the spectacle, the big events: Superbowl, Burning Man, EGOT awards, Election Night. When what we want, or need, is to sit back and relax, but even to relax has become big business, and nothing will do without we get super relaxed, hyper-relaxed.

Inevitably, the great hyper-experience is followed by a come-down. Paumgarten concludes, having made the trek from New York to Vermont to experience the eclipse:

“That night, the highway south, back to the cities, was jammed. People reported that it took more than six hours to get out of Vermont. Others posted screenshots of the flight paths of private jets leaving local airports. Everyone had time to reconsider what was worth it, and what was not, and perhaps to weigh keeping those considerations to themselves.“

I remember another eclipse, this one experienced vicariously via Mark Twain, which might help explain our fascinations and superstitions. This eclipse is from A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Hank, Twain’s time traveler, finding himself at odds with Merlin, is about to be burned at the stake when he leverages his knowing, having been there, in the future, of the coming eclipse to control the King and his minions:

“I have reflected, Sir King. For a lesson, I will let this darkness proceed, and spread night in the world; but whether I blot out the sun for good, or restore it, shall rest with you. These are the terms, to wit: You shall remain king over all your dominions, and receive all the glories and honors that belong to the kingship; but you shall appoint me your perpetual minister and executive, and give me for my services one per cent of such actual increase of revenue over and above its present amount as I may succeed in creating for the state. If I can’t live on that, I sha’n’t ask anybody to give me a lift. Is it satisfactory?”

‘There was a prodigious roar of applause, and out of the midst of it the king’s voice rose, saying:’

“Away with his bonds, and set him free! and do him homage, high and low, rich and poor, for he is become the king’s right hand, is clothed with power and authority, and his seat is upon the highest step of the throne! Now sweep away this creeping night, and bring the light and cheer again, that all the world may bless thee.”

If the next big event doesn’t eclipse its predecessor, it’s a bust.