Goshorn Lake near
                                                                                                                                                                Saugatuck, Michigan
                                                                                                                                                                4th July, 2008

So much has happened since the last family gathering in Saugatuck, and yet it's only been a year.  A wedding, several job and address changes, a slew of birthdays, a presidential election.  Also an economic downturn, but by all reports and as far as I have heard as a whole and as a family, collectively speaking, we are continuing to stay afloat, our heads above water, our real estate selling, our heads of households employed, our children fed and clothed.  Scattered across half a dozen states, we may not discuss the current political scene (or a number of other related topics for that matter), but at least we can agree that we are very grateful for what we've got and Life is good. 

Life is good.  And therefore I was in the right mood yesterday to see Summer Hours [L'heure d'été] a film by Olivier Assayas about a family in France who has to dismantle the ancestral home and disperse its contents after the death of the matriarch.  Unlike my own family, this French family inherits two landscapes by Corot, a scultpure by Degas, some artist sketchbooks and a number of pieces of furniture by Louis Majorelle and Josef Hoffman which, understandably, the Musee d'Orsay wants for their collection.  Of course, one does not need to have inherited important pictures or furniture or works of art to fully enjoy this film, although it would help.  In the right mood, however, as I was saying, one can respond to the film's treatment of the dispersal not just of family things, but of the inevitable loss of family memories and secrets ("souvenirs... et secrets") that no one else related to you is going to care about.  As you might imagine, I most closely identified not with the older sibling who wants to keep the Corots, but with the faithful aged retainer Eloise, who pays one last visit to the empty house before returning, alone, to the French equivalent of council housing where one can only assume she will soon die. 

Like all good French films, L'heure d'été made me want to give more dinner parties and smoke again and have large vases of freshly picked wildflowers placed artistically in shadowy rooms with lovely filtered light.  The French still make smoking look like a good idea.  

Oh and just so you know: 1904 was the year construction began in Saugatuck on a new channel for the Kalamazoo RIver's meandering route to Lake Michigan; shifting sand has always been a problem and now the old retaining walls are in need of repair [Source].   

And this year, while everyone else is at barbecues, poolside, or at the beach, T. and I will be at LACMA, enjoying the Pompeii exhibit, followed by lunch at a certain very famous Mexican restaurant in the neighborhood.  A change of pace in all respects.  Happy 4th!