I sometimes find, when I’m reading, that I’ve picked up a book (or two or ten) with a particular theme for no specific reason–only to discover, a little way down the line, that there was a reason, only I didn’t know it yet. It’s like I’m researching before I realize what–or why–I’m researching. Example: before I started working on the current project, which is set in medieval Italy* I found myself rereading The Name of the Rose, The Doomsday Book, and several of Sharan Newman’s excellent Catherine LeVendeur mysteries. Only later did I realize that I wanted to see how other writers handled the day-to-day of medieval life and, in particular, day-to-day faith.
So: in the last month I have read Chasing Clean, Suellen Hoy’s lovely history of the pursuit of cleanliness in America (so glad I didn’t live in pre-Civil War America. So glad) and am now reading Rose George’s The Big Necessity, a riveting look at the history, engineering, and health management aspects of, um, human waste. It’s fascinating, not least because I’m reminded of how much I take for granted every time I flush the toilet and wash my hands. There’s a wonderful anecdote at the beginning of The Big Necessity in which the author, asking for a bathroom at a restaurant in the Ivory Coast, is shown to a hut–a small, white tiled room. No light, no toilet, drain, no hole, nothing: just find your spot and go. She’s taken aback, and goes out to check with the waiter who had shown her to the, um, facitilities. “Do it on the floor. What did you expect? This isn’t America!” And the author, who would have used the bushes or a one-holer, takes care of business, having been reminded of how privileged she is. Because it is a privilege to have an outhouse, or even a chair to sit on (as in a memorable scene from Slumdog Millionaire) while one does ones’ business.
Not to mention what becomes of all that effluvia. Okay, I don’t mean to gross anyone out; you’re likely drinking coffee and getting a start on your day. But Rose George’s point is that where there are people there are these issues, and they matter. And have mattered throughout human history.
I do wonder why I am reading these books right now. I don’t know. Partly, they came my way (well, the Hoy book did–a friend loaned it to me; I saw a review of the George and got it for myself as a Christmas present–I’m such a romantic). But I also found myself eying Clean: A History of Personal Hygiene and Purity when I came across it the other day. There’s a theme cooking in my brain.
I hope my brain will tell me, soon, what the theme is. I’m really quite curious.
*Medieval Italy=a term which has no real meaning, as what we call Italy wasn’t until well into modern times, and in the medieval age was really a battlefield for Lombards, Arabs, and as far as I can tell, Sino-Celtic traveling salesmen.