The golden light of early morning or later afternoon is fleeting but mesmerizing. Colors glow with greater intensity. Everything looks better. Nostalgia is the memory equivalent of golden light. It is a way of escaping into a past that never existed, even if that past is your own. For many years, living in memory was thought best to avoid, even considered a psychological disorder. Up until I wrote this article, I thought that immersing myself in the past was my avoidance of living in the present, and something to be corrected. Instead, recent research finds nostalgia is a “potent internal antidote for loneliness and alienation.” It also increases during major life transitions; something I can attest to. A heartening Guardian article by Tim Adams suggests that “nostalgia helps build resources like optimism or inspiration or creativity, which are correlated with mental fortitude.” http://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/nov/09/look-back-in-joy-the-power-of-nostalgia
I love that nostalgia turns out to be good for me. It grounds me as I weather challenging life events and slows me down as I try to manage the rate of change that appears to be speeding up in society. There is the old furniture in my house. I would say antiques but that implies quality. Most of it is just old [and dear]. I just picked up an old typewriter at a garage sale simply to have the instrument that makes that lovely sound. There are the numerous CDs of Big Band music and traditional jazz. Django Reinhart has a permanent place on the CD player. I stream old radio shows like Jack Benny and Paul Temple. We watch import mysteries set in the past like Murdoch Mysteries, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, Poirot, and Foyle’s War. I’m introducing my daughter to William Powell and Myrna Loy in the Thin Man series. I am turning her into an old fogy before she has entered her teen years.
Then there are the books. I was blessed [possibly saddled] with a mother who was a pack rat and bibliophile. A journey to my past is an arm’s reach to my bookcase. As I peruse some of the cherished volumes, I’m struck with how nonplussed a person might be to come to these books as an adult. Many of the childhood books I love I love because they are books from my childhood. The stories we encounter as a child create a world we carry with us throughout our life, our non-Parisian Moveable Feast.
I read Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Angle and Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster in my thirties. What a shame. The intensely private, wonderful worlds those books created in millions of children are not there for me. However, the world I imagined in hearing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl still is. As are the worlds I created in James and the Giant Peach, Fantastic Mr. Fox [also by Roald Dahl], Winnie the Pooh [A.A. Milne], Mary Poppins [P.L. Travers], the list just goes on.
If you look at the prices for certain out-of-print children’s books, you can see the desire among many people to reclaim a part of their childhood. Copies of Jelly Beans for Breakfast by Miriam Young start at $59.99 on Amazon. This book also has its own Facebook page. A few years ago, I was disheartened to find that Dorrie and the Blue Witch by Patricia Combs was also out of print and copies were hovering at jelly bean prices. In writing this article, I went to confirm its high price and was delighted to discover, it’s back in print and in my price range..
I love that nostalgia turns out to be good for me.