Week 32

I remember well when I got captivated by Richard Halliburton. The owner of a cute NYC Store that specialized in unique umbrellas has recommended to me the book by the name “The Royal Road to Romance”. I found the title to be too cheesy, but I ordered it anyway. However, after reading the first paragraph I knew I was hooked. I finished the book in a day.

His other titles are unfortunately can be considered as kitch as his first one: ’’Glorious Adventure”, “New Worlds to Conquer", "Seven League Boots". But don’t let the titles fool you. San Francisco Examiner wrote that “Richard Halliburton does make Marco Polo seem like a mumbling porch sitter”. At some point his books were bestsellers, topping the lists. Today you have to scout eBay and used bookstores for some rare reprints. But the hunt is worth it. Few people currently write so optimistically and passionately about the world full of romance and adventures.

My obsession with R. Halliburton led me to the Princeton Rare Books Library, where I had to obtain a special permit to view his archive. His family has donated manuscripts, photographs, and letters that fill 12 large card boxes. When the assistant rolled out the card containing folders, each dedicated to only one page, that contained his handwritings, annotations, and notes, I felt the gripping fluttering in the stomach that people frequently describe after exciting dates.

My obsession with Richard is so great, that for this year’s birthday my sister custom ordered for me a 3D printed bust of Richard. Yet, for a while, I have hesitated to read his biography. I wanted to cherish the myth of a daredevil adventurer and opening the closet, anticipating it is filled with mammoth skeletons. This week I have finished the biography of Richard by Jonathan Root. No, it did not damage my infatuation. To quote Rudolf Erich Raspe ("Travels of Baron Munchausen), “A traveler has a right to relate and embellish his adventures as he pleases, and it is very impolite to refuse that deference and applause they deserve”.

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It is summer 2020, and strolling through streets of New York City it is rare for you to encounter a passer-by without a mask. The masks have become a fashion statement, political affiliation, and even a sign of respect. They seem like a new phenomenon, but they are not. Until the early 19th century, before germ theory was accepted, diseases were explained by Miasma theory. Miasma or bad air explained all of the epidemics and masks were worn from China to France over centuries. The image below shows masked commuters during 1918 influenza in California.

More pictures here: The 1918 Flu, Masks and Lessons for the Coronavirus Pandemic - The New York Times

Rail commuters wearing white protective masks, one with the additional message “wear a mask or go to jail,” during the 1918 influenza pandemic in California.

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Until recently our feet were our search engines. We wandered through stacks in libraries and bookstores in search for something specific but managed to stumble upon surprising discoveries. We call it *Serendipity Browsing*. Sometimes we would take wrong turns and would discover whole sections of human knowledge that we did not have exposure (like the architecture wing I have stumbled upon in Vancouver Public Library). Sometimes we would be struck by our ignorance, just by visually sizing the volumes of work (like when I got overwhelmed with cybernetics section in Powell Bookstore that occupies a whole block in Portland Oregon ). Some will argue that Serendipity Browsing is better online since we are unconstrained by limitations of physical space, especially when one is not as lucky to be browsing in New York’s City’s Strand or NYPL. This might be true, but I still hold a view that there is something magical sitting on the floor of a library or bookstore, browsing books you did not even know existed. The intellectual wandering just seems to be catalyzed by the bookshelves and smells of printed pages.

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DIEGO VELÁZQUEZ, /LAS MENINAS/, 1656, FROM THE COLLECTION OF MUSEO NACIONAL DEL PRADO IN MADRID.

Futher reading: [Why Diego Velázquez’s Las Meninas Is One of the Most Important Paintings in Art History]

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