Monday, 16 March 2015
On our way down to breakfast, Carol and I made reservations for dinner at the Tables of Content (at last!).
The menu changes daily and appears on this board in the lobby. Note the kitty, just to the right of the sign, watching the stairs.
Shelley takes up a spot each morning watching guests come down for breakfast.
After breakfast, I climbed back up to the library while Carol went for a long walk. I took a few photos of the art on the walls.
extra lamps at the stairs to the library attic
table at the top of the stairs
I peeked into Ken Kesey’s Cuckoo’s Nest, the third floor room for book clubs and other groups, with four beds and plenty of room for rollaway beds. It did not take long to catch up on the journals, as there were few new entries since my last visit in September 2014.
The Cuckoo’s Nest
Cuckoo’s Nest
The room journals are lined paper on clipboards to fit in with the room’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest asylum theme. The room was ready for guests, with paper cups of meds (jelly beans for pills).
nightly meds.
My favourite journal entry from The Cuckoo’s Nest: “The fantastic scope of this hotel has me questioning the difference between reality and fiction. Each doorway is a portal to worlds and time fantastic… From Hogwarts to Middle Earth to 1920 and 1800, every unassuming door holds treasures untold. Who could sleep when reality is dreaming realized? Brilliant. Perfect. Wonderful. This magical hotel turned a broken transmission into a blessing unprecedented.” I try to imagine the wonder of finding this place by accident! What a joyful thing. I would have been astonished and definitely would have felt I had stepped into a dream.
In the library, “my” blue chair by the north window.
view of a sunny day into which I would not venture.
the grand morning shadow of the Sylvia Beach Hotel.
You can see the shadows of the pipes that rattled so loudly in yesterday’s storm.
I had found a journal from the old E.B. White room (now Steinbeck) tucked into a bottom drawer of the Melville room so I returned it to the library shelves to be available to all. This entry especially touched my heart. March 10, 1999: “It’s a privilege to be recorded here in the company of such literate young people. I am an old S.B. devotée who came here often in the early days but was sadly cut off when my sweetheart died suddenly in March 1990. For a long time, I could not come to the beach at all, it was too sad. But in the last uear, I began to be happy at the beach again, at last December I won a night’s stay at the SBH, so it was time. …I chose the EB White room where I had never stayed but thought I might like to, and it was just right. The Melville room was OUR room. I may never stay in the Melville room again, but I bought a little pen and ink drawing this time of that great empty bed, and I’ll frame it when I get home, and that will content me, as small things do these days. As Nellie said after breakfast this morning, as we were gazing at the ocean (Nellie with whom I had constructed an entire complete satisfying friendship in 25 minutes), after I said ‘Have a nice life’—’Yes, every minute! Make every minute count!'”
I got the room journals out of the J.K. Rowling room, which used to be Poe, and found someone fretting, as I do, about what happens to the old journals when the rooms are redecorated.
3/20/11 “I’m here with my daughter and we’re so excited to be back! It’s also fun to be one of the first to stay in this new room, although we are sad to see some of the old things go away. (My daughter wants to know what they’ve done with the journals that were in this room when it was the Poe room.) Please, Sylvia Beach, don’t change too much!”
Her daughter adds, “We’re missing Poe and the wedding night tales in the journals!” Where ARE the Poe journals? Destiny and I have each scoured the library and they are nowhere to be found. I found an entry by Destiny (who I met here at breakfast several years ago) on the same quest: “Filled out half a dozen Rowlings post cards from the gift shop to excite envy amongst my HP friends. I didn’t even go for any dinner and had to scavenge in my tucker box for snacks. Just being here is bliss! Today I will look for the Poe journals. They must be here somewhere. Not in the glass bookcase like Goody thought but I found a cache of EB Whites. Reading the room journals is one of my favorite things. So many kindred spirits!”
Here is a testament to how a fandom can change a person’s life for the better: “Because of Harry Potter, I have friends all around the world. Because of HP I have come out of my shell. Because of HP I do things I never thought I would. …I went to the last book release dressed as the fat lady…I went to the midnight releases of the movies. I love Wizard Wrock, fan fiction, and Pottermore. My family will tell you that I am obsessed with all things Harry Potter and they would be right. Because of Harry Potter I am now one of the hosts of a Podcast that reads and reviews Harry Potter fan fiction: Potterficweekly.com. When I heard about this new room I had to come see it for myself. I am totally impressed. The attention to details is astounding. I love the ‘jumper’ quilt, the four poster bed, the wands, the potions ingredients and the sorting hat. But the one thing that made the room perfect for me was the picture of James and Lily next to the bed. Well done!”
I persist in thinking of it as the Harry Potter room, something that I do about no other author).
Imagine having been at the perfect age to grow up right alongside Harry Potter:
July 25 2013: “We are from the fortunate generation that grew up at almost the same pace that Harry grew up. I was 11 when I read The Philosopher’s Stone, 12 when I read The Chamber of Secrets. Maybe because I grew up alongside Harry, I’ve never really outgrown him—and I’m so grateful. This room feels as special and magical for me today as it would have when I was just a young muggle questioning whether I really was a muggle after all and whether some mistake in the owl post had caused me not to receive my letter from Hogwarts.” Sometimes I wonder if the books in which Harry is older were too mature for young readers. Aging at the same pace would have been just perfect.
Hedwig the owl
Outside of the room, set into the wall, is an even better Hedwig:
I would probably be a Hufflepuff….maybe a Ravensclaw.
I entered the F. Scott Fitzgerald room to catch up on the journal entries since I last looked in September.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
some Fitzgerald room journals; there were not many new entries.
At 12:30, the Jane Austen room was ready for us to check in. Carol was still out walking. It was simple for me to shift my stuff and Carol’s as Austen is right next door to the Melville room. The kind hotel staff will readily shift items from one room to the next, but Carol and I both prefer to do our own carrying (“while we still can”, says Carol).
Jane Austen room
inside
One guest wrote in the journals that she moved this little desk so that she could write while looking out of the window.
Austen room reading nook with lighthouse view (The Melville nook is on the other side of the wall)
reading nook view
two of the room journals
I think all the old room journals are here!
I had read most of the Jane Austen room journals before by accessing the room when it was empty. Now at last, I could read them all in order without the anxiety of getting them back into the room before guests checked in.
June 10, 1990: “Going home. We came here and Sylvia Beach gave us a pill. Jane Austen tucked us into our room and there the symptoms of the day to day left us. We soothed each other and relieved each other of the anxious compulsions, the calculations, and the trivia. This place offered us only what we needed, what anybody needs, and we leave content, satisfied, and sincere, a little more well than when we arrived. Maybe we will be afflicted again, see the symptoms of double-time minutes to hours again. We will probably pick them up on northbound I-5 like you would stranded and disabled hitchhikers—fearful and hesitant. This time though we will recognize them and this pacific pill is longlasting so I will remember not to let them drive.” If only I could hold onto the truths of the SBH at home. These blog entries are my attempt to do so.
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Today, the day before my 60th birthday, I found more entries about older people staying here:
Age 4o, Jan 11, 1997: “I’ve discovered an interesting phenomenon in the journals of Jane’s room: turning 40 and sleeping here creates a recurring theme. And as I did just that, I feel part of tradition. Still I cannot begin to imagine what 40 feels like—my heart still feels 20.”
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Age 70: “A little bit of paradise, and the best 70th birthday present, from son Andrew. We had such a relaxing 48 hours, with the beautiful Jane Austen room, fabulous food, meeting interesting people, and warm, hospitable hosts and services. Loved it, and hope to come back before my 80th!”
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Age 80, 8-23-88: “What a great way to go into my 8th decade! Hope to be back many times before entering my 9th decade. Room, total internal/external environment—all in all, the place, participants—perfect. To all who stay in this room—’Go Well’. -Dorothy”
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Age 42, 9-21-88: “The perfect place to begin my 42nd year. Lots of good rest, coffee and reading in bed, beautiful sunshine on the coast, and a stolen holiday midweek. What a surprise to weed in the guest book that my wonderful friend Dorothy celebrated her 80th birthday in this room only a month ago. Dorothy is quite a role model; I hope I’m as active as she is when I enter my 80th year.”
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61 and 88: “A Time and Place to rethink different views of Time as perceived by youth (61) and age (88). The impatience I sometimes feel at the distressing lack of timeliness of the ‘wee mither’ is rather dissolved and put into perspective here at this blissful retreat on the Oregon coast as we contemplate the timeless sea, salty to the shins. Dear Jane helps with this gentle message, too. Perhaps we need to renew and review these good thoughts more frequently in this serene spot.”
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Age 88: “What a joy the Jane Austen Society of North America has been to me. My devotion to Jane Austen has endured, unabated, despite utter inability to find any reading time in my average modern life. The discovery of Jane Austen burst upon me at 14 to 15 years of age and has persisted to my current 88. I urge all Janeites to join JASNA. You will discover unexpected fellow enthusiasts in unsuspected places.”
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Age 90: (a guest writes of a family member who wrote an entry at age 90: “K____ D____ of journal number 2 is now 93, transplanted to Portland, and an absolute joy. I hope I am as with it, so fill of the joy of life as she is when I am 93!”
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Age 30, 60, 90: April 24, 2000: “Well, Jane Austen, here I am in my sixties (I can’t believe I’m writing 60s! The girl of 18 is still in my inner core)…and this weekend I’m sandwiched between generations—my mother of 90 and my daughter in late 30s sharing a room down the hall. I’m fortunate for the solitude of alone in Jane Austen. I’m still trying to sort it all out.”
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While I know there is nothing at all unusual about turning 60, I can’t help but feel encouraged that folks into their 80s are still making it to the hotel. Maybe I need this assurance because I can’t imagine my grandmother or my mother traveling at that age.
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A writer thinks Jane attracts a certain kind of journaler: “Our stay here has been so enjoyable. I feel so lucky to have had a chance to stay here at the Sylvia Beach Hotel. I have really felt at home in the Jane Austen room—it’s so light and fresh. In skimming the comment books in the reading room and other rooms, I’m struck by how gentle and optimistic the thoughts of the occupants of Jane’s room are in comparison.”
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10/6/95 “The words ‘You are never alone’ ring true today more than ever. After reading the prior pages of this journal. I am convinced once again that others feel as I do. It is comforting to know this and to have validation in some of our thoughts and feelings. Also to know that there are other people in this world who take time to live in a quietness, a realness. Time filled with solitude and reflection is obviously important for others as well as myself. I came here to write, to unchain some old beliefs, to asses, to refuel, and most of all to ‘be’. .’Doing’ can get so tiresome…Can’t think of a better place to cleanse, to shed.”
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10-26-95 “My only complaint about this room is that I can’t get any of my own books read because I can’t seem to be able to put down these guests’ journals. I have laughed and nearly cried. Perhaps they should be published.”
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I love when journal readers engage with each other on the page:
6-16-95: “Whenever I come here, I am coaxed, not coerced, into reflection and quiet contemplation. I find it easy to cry here. And when it is time to go, am never eager to leave.”
May 3, 1996: “The coast, the simplicity of this place, forces you to look at yourself for entertainment as well as meaning. One journal entry in this book noted how easy it is to cry at the SBH. That’s because everything we cling to in day to day life (including busyness) has been stripped away here. Introspection comes easily. Oceans provide thoughts of eternity.”
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“Well, I could write all night but we have to leave at 7:40 AM and my words are dragging, but just one more thing. Please write in these journals as much as you can, it links us all together, and thank you to all those people who have written in the past. Love, L____, 13 years, XOXO”
I’ve noted on previous visits how guests will write letters to Jane and to Emily Dickinson but not to Melville or Fitzgerald.
“Dear Jane, Unlike most visitors to your room, I do not come with a partner, nor to relieve the stress of the everyday world or to celebrate my 40th birthday. I come to celebrate my 50th birthday. Today I am a crone! ….I discovered you at 15 when Pride and Prejudice was required reading in 10th grade English. Elizabeth Bennet, tart-tongued Lizzie, was my role model for the next two decades of my life and you my favorite author. I visited your house at Chawton, acquiring an ‘I’d Rather be Reading Jane Austen’ bumper sticker long before PBS thought to market such devices. (This leads to an amusing incident with my car being followed one day by a stereotypical trucker in a CAT hat who asked me if I felt the same way about the Brontes when I pulled over; seems he and his family lived and worked at Haworth at one time. I’m afraid not, I told him.) But now it is your life more than your words which inspires me. I have no real stress and enjoy every day because I gave up the fast track to work just part-time and at a less demanding job, valuing time over money any day….”
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These next two are particular charming together:
One half of a couple writes: “Dear Jane, I do appreciate your writing, but I don’t know if I’ll stay in your room again, at least not with my girlfriend, since she totally ignored me the whole time we were here, despite the fact that it is our one year anniversary. She is so enamored of your work that she could not pull herself away and the only attention I got from her is when she made me read her quiz questions from the Jane Austen Quiz and Puzzle Book. Now she has discovered the Jane Austen Society of North America and plans a lifetime membership. I’m not usually a jealous person, Jane, but would you please just GO AWAY!!”
The other writes: “Dear Jane, What a great room! What a wondrous time I had in it! To be able to immerse myself in your works—how glorious! …Thanks for the use of your room. I plan to come back for every anniversary!”
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“I loved this room. It was beautiful and cozy. The journals are the best. We snuck into the Poe room next door and borrowed some of theirs, too. I love reading everyone’s thoughts, about life, their loves, this hotel, the world.”
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After hours of journal reading, Carol and I went down to dinner at the Tables of Content. On the way, I saw that the Lincoln Steffens room was open and asked at the desk, learning to my delight that it was not booked for a couple of nights. At last I would be able to get in there to read the journals!
We had a quick browse in the gift shop while waiting for the dinner bell. I was highly amused by the titles of four blank books:
I snuck a photo of the beautiful appetizer at dinner; taking photos at the meals seems improper in the “electronics free dining room.”
The food goes around on platters, and we serve ourselves, so I did my own presentation on that appetizer.
The game was introduced and explained and of our table of 9, all but two wanted to play. One seemed kind of belligerent about not playing and insisted it was actually Two Lies and a Truth and wanted to make a bet on that! I’ve never experienced such long awkward silences during the pre-game introductory chit chat and I noticed a strange thing during the game: Even though four of the others were repeat guests who had prepared for the game, no one but Carol and I asked the three questions each to figure out the lie, It was as if no one had any interest in other people. Meanwhile, the belligerent one would occasionally ask a question but always prefaced with “I’m NOT playing, but…” It was very odd, and I wondered if Goody herself could have found a way to salvage it. The food was delicious and the experience was interesting even though it completely lacked the usual dread followed by exhilaration that I feel about The Game. Goody, the one time I got to have breakfast with her, explained that the purpose of the game is to encourage even the shyest person at the table to have attention paid to him or her.
After dinner, I spent an hour or two in the Lincoln Steffens room delving into the folders where guests in the late 80s and 90s typed their thoughts on an old Underwood typewriter.
Lincoln Steffens room
the desk
After reading three folders worth (and finding the reading goes fast when the words are typed), I returned to Carol in the Jane Austen room, where I opened a drawer and found a whole new treasure trove of old room journals. It’s a good thing we like to read until late.
I thought I had already searched through every nook!
from the first year of the hotel
I found another in the recurring theme of guests being reminded of their aunt’s or grandma’s house, with beautiful old-fashioned handwriting to enhance the memory:
Two of my favourite entries from Jane-ites:
At ten o’clock, Carol toddled into the library to get our spiced wine, only to find that there was nought but an empty thermos. She asked down at the desk, then went back to the kitchenette three times in hope, then asked at the desk again only to be told they were out. We were mystified. I looked at the website on my iPhone; there, in Goody’s words, it says wine is served at ten PM: “No matter how nice your room is, guests often spend much of their time up in the reading room. It has the best view in the whole building, lots of overstuffed chairs, a fireplace, plenty of books (from the library shelves in the loft),puzzles and board games, tea and coffee always available, and at 10:00 each night (if you’ve torn yourself away from the dinner table) we serve hot spiced wine.” Carol had been there at just 10:02. We also realized how much we count on that little ritual in our simple lives at the hotel: Breakfast, reading, move to new room, reading, dinner, reading, wine, reading, sleep. Carol adds a long walk to the mix. Then it seemed that every few pages, the journals talked about the spiced wine, even though I had never noticed it being mentioned before. (We think there is no alcohol in the wine; it tastes good but does not go to our heads, honest.)
“…to the library to a comfy reading chair and a cup of spiced wine….”
“Spiced wine at night is a great touch. Even though my husband is more of a hot chocolate type person.”
“We arrived too late for dinner but enjoyed a cup of spiced wine while exploring the grounds.”
“We are currently sitting on the bed with Shelly the cat and some delicious spiced wine.”
!!!
wine-less Carol reading her novel late at night
I found more praise for the journal reading experience:
October 24, 1992: “Reading the journals in each room is such fun—some entries are serious and poetic, some light-hearted and romantic, and many of them comment on the magic of this place. That is what distinguished the Sylvia Beach Hotel, not just the uniquely decorated rooms in this wonderful old building, but also the stimulating conversation over beautifully prepared meals, and the delightful sense of camaraderie with a hotel full of book-lovers like yourself. We’re having a good time and the feeling is intensified by the fact that everyone else here is, too.”
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“Few guests are here this week, so K___ has savored all of the guest books and journals in the rooms, not to mention the rooms themselves. Seeing her discoveries has enhanced my own appreciation for them, and for the rare opportunity I’ve had as a participant in this whole SB concept and its execution. This place makes people feel secure, and they open up. It has to be experienced to be believed.“
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“Goody, I know you wish people would always stay in the library and talk which is a great part of coming here that I love, but really if you read this whole guest book, it would make you happy to see how many people realize how wonderful each other is as well as the rest of the world!”
journal art
Just exactly how I feel:
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