200 Books

This pseudo-biographical work by Daniel Defoe about the 1665 outbreak of the plague that nearly wiped out London is a compelling read. We had a pandemic spook this spring with the H1N1 virus and it is possible that it could return this fall so the book is quite topical despite the hundreds of years that seperate us from it’s publication.

I found the book difficult to read simply because of the tragedy of the story. Knowing what hundreds of years of epidemiology has taught us about the spread of the plague makes me want to reach through the pages and scream at 17th century Londoners “IT WAS THE RATS!!”

Since falling in love for the first time, five years ago, I have developed an incredible sensitivity to sadness, heartbreak and true tragedy in art. I find it impossible to sit through movies depicting war, infidelity or terminal illnesses. Books can make me cry now. Becoming a parent has only heightened this delicacy of feeling. Life is much more perilous than I used to feel or think. I once recklessly risked my life and sometimes even the lives of others. I drove aggressively, speeding, cornering too tightly, pushing the limits. I hiked, scrambled and climbed cliffs, dove into swift, deep rivers enjoying those moments on the edge, unsure of my grip, tasting the metallic after-flavor of adrenaline. Now, I could still do those things but can barely stand to see my husband taking much milder risks and have to discipline myself not to scream whenever my sons test their physical limits. I cannot imagine how I will manage when they are grown and pushing more serious boundaries.

All of this to say that A Journal of the Plague Year is sad and difficult but it should remind you to be grateful for 21st century Western medicine. Grateful for vaccines. Grateful for penicillin, IVs, X-rays, and all the other things that contribute to the dramatic lowering of infant mortality and increased life expectancy that we enjoy almost unconsciously.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 19th, 2009 at 10:51 am and is filed under Fiction, Philosophy, History and Religion. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.