I also picked up Sag Harbor from the library before vacation, I think on an unconscious move triggered by this Vroman’s post. I thoroughly enjoyed it, only taking so long to devour it because I rarely had a free moment that wasn’t dedicated to sleep. It was an unexpected play-by-play of my summers at SagBasin Harbor, and it was a weird reminder of how empty those days were. I would get so excited about that two week stretch of nothing…
I don’t feel comfortable saying that it was the exact same experience that Whitehead writes about, but goddamnit it was close. I knew what he was talking about when they would laze about on their bikes, asking about everyone else because there wasn’t really anything between themselves to occupy the time. I recognized those feelings that most of the rest of the world are being simply introduced to upon reading.
So the reading was very comfortable, a familiarity that I don’t usually get from books on the first run. At the same time though, it showed me what my future relationship with BHC will probably be. Not because I believe Whitehead’s story word-for-word, but because I can feel that change that 15-year-old Benji said happened to the older kids. First of all, there definitely is a relationship with a place that has/is a character of its own. That relationship fades over time as you realize that there is a much bigger world out there, with a stronger pull than the one that takes you “out.” I think I will always spend a little bit of time at BHC because I have spent every summer there since birth, but we’re becoming more acquaintances than friends as time passes.
I can remember what it was like to be Little Bobby and to be Benji, and I think I’m on my way toward Elena. Soon enough the weeds will take over and my “good times” stories will become someone else’s haunted house.
