Tonight I met Ursula K. LeGuin!!!

Since my apartment application hasn’t passed the test yet, I walked to the downtown public library and spent an hour on the Internet there. Afterwards, I headed back in the direction of the hostel and sat down on a park bench and took out a couple of granola bars and a bag of almonds. A guy crossed the street and walked up to me (or jogged up to me) just to say quite earnestly, “I like your hat and your sparkly bag.” I laughed and thanked him. (I was wearing my Kashmiri hat that I got in Dharamsala and carrying the hand embroidered mirrorwork bag that was one of Shantum’s gifts care of the Ahimsa Trust.) Despite my laughter, he continued to have a serious look on his face and walked away—I hope I didn’t offend him with my laughter.
In Portland I have gotten a lot of compliments and smiles because of my bohemian clothing. Black is very popular here—and sure I used to wear black all the time—but I think the grey skies are a big motivation to wear colorful clothing. Maybe, who knows, after enough people have seen me wandering downtown Portland, I’ll set off a trend.

I met Ursula K. LeGuin!!! Did I mention that? After I got back to the hostel, I should mention, I checked to see if I had any messages by the phone, and I didn’t, so I decided that rather than driving to Beaverton just to go to the library for a job application (Beaverton, incidentally, is a suburb that’s very close to my prospective apartment), I’d wander around 21st and 23rd Avenues, since everyone says they’re great places to wander. Both streets are full of restaurants and bars and fascinating boutiques. Not to mention pedestrians and dogs on leashes. Just the dogs were on leashes, not the pedestrians. Not many pedestrians, anyway.
As I wandered and shamelessly window-shopped, I spotted a shop, in a Victorian house, called New Renaissance Bookstore, which basically is a spirituality bookstore with particular emphasis on Paganism and Buddhism. I wandered all over the store and asked for a job application (I think that was before I noticed a pigeon had pooped on my espadrille) and the woman behind the counter explained that they don’t have job applications—just bring a cover letter and resume, and she gave me the name of the manager to address in the cover letter.

Later, I was walking down the sidewalk again and spotted another bookstore: 23rd Avenue Books. So I crossed the street to go ask for another job application, and I was astonished to see a sign out front announcing “7:30 Tonight Ursula K. LeGuin.” It was about six in the evening at this point. I wondered if that really meant that Ursula K. LeGuin herself would be there or whether it was just a readers group or some fans reading something by her. I went inside and saw a sign, not to mention a pile of copies of her latest novel, Lavinia. I asked about a job application and got much the same answer as before, and like with the other bookstore I mentioned that I won’t move to Portland till July and will turn in my resume then. I also said I’d be back to see Ursula K. LeGuin.

As I continued walking up the street, it occurred to me that I had enough time to walk back to the hostel, use the restroom, change my shoes, and leave the magazines I was carrying behind in the dorm room. So I did all that, walking kind of quickly (though I stopped to pet a couple of happy Dachshund puppies on the way to the hostel).

I returned to 23rd Avenue Books at about a quarter after seven and noticed signs saying “Event” with an arrow, and I noticed a woman carrying the book Lavinia and going into the narrow alley between the bookstore and the next shop. I followed and found myself in a little courtyard with folding chairs, a podium, and a microphone. Several people were already waiting, and most of them had a copy of the book. I went back down the alley and into the store and asked for a copy of Lavinia. When she sold me the book, the woman behind the counter got out circular blue stickers and, pulling one off the paper, said she’s sticking it on the book to indicate that it’s sold. I said, “Oh, I noticed that on people’s books, and I just thought they were library books.”

I returned to the courtyard and sat down about five rows back. I looked around, got up, shrugged, and sat in the front row just slightly right of the podium. The suspense of waiting. A bookstore employee—a young guy in jeans and t-shirt, definitely not in the Barnes and Noble dress code—went to the podium and introduced the audience. He said he would give a bio of her but pointed out that he won’t bother because he’s sure we all know hwo she is, since we showed up here.

And then there she was, a little old lady in a black wool blazer and pants and an orange shirt and green jade necklace—actually, she sat at a little table to the right while the bookseller made the announcement (like, she was about three feet away from me). Oh, yes, he ended by saying, “Here’s Ursula K. LeGuin, so clap and yell to make her welcome.” Yes, he really used the phrase “clap and yell.”

She went to the podium and said that she’d briefly explain what the book is about and then read an excerpt that isn’t at the beginning, so we “wouldn’t get bored.” She added that afterwards we can ask questions, and then she’ll sign books. She said, “the book signing is the boring part for me.”

The excerpt she read was really wow—the book is about a minor character—or rather a character who is only briefly mentioned--in The Aeniad, Lavinia, and it’s all written from her point of view. She was a king’s daughter and her parents want to marry her off and have a list of suitors, but she isn’t interested in any of them because a poet’s ghost (Virgil) meets her in a garden and prophesied that she’d marry a foreigner. Her mother is crazy and threatening and pressuring Lavinia to marry her cousin.

Before she read the excerpt (which she stopped reading at a very climactic moment, to get everyone eager to read the book), she explained that at the age of seventy-five she decided that she wanted to read Virgil’s Aeniad, and she wanted to read it in Latin because that would be better than English. She had taken Latin in college, and now she got out the old Latin grammar books…and found it really boring, so she got a copy of the Aeniad that has Latin on one page and English on the facing page. She got carried away and thus wrote this spin-off.

LeGuin lives in Portland—she said she’s lived here since 1959—and someone in the audience asked her what’s her favorite restaurant in Portland for breakfast. She said that breakfast is a meal that she likes to spend reading a newspaper and not speaking to anybody.

Someone else asked her what direction she thinks Portland is going in the next twenty years. She said that she doesn’t think about the future and that people ask her about the future because she’s written science fiction, but she doesn’t think about it. She said that she’s a born and bred Californian and that she tends to miss California weather—she looked up at the pale grey sky as she said this and added that this evening’s weather is pretty good (in other words, the grey sky wasn’t dripping). She talked about how every city has many people and there will be too many people and a shortage of resources and how we’re currently aware of the oil’s future shortage. But she commented that overall Portland is doing a good job.

I didn’t mention yet: one of the questions was about Lavinia’s mother, the way LeGuin portrayed her, since she’s abusive and nuts in the novel. LeGuin explained that it’s the impression she got from Virgil, and that it’s hardly surprising that she’d go insane, since she was a queen in ancient Rome who’s sons died, leaving her with no male heirs.

LeGuin went on to say that other characters could be insane, too—like Lavinia’s dad, crazy with grief. “Who knows, maybe Lavinia herself was insane. She talks to unborn poets in gardens!” (That referred to Virgil visiting her as a ghost.)
Somebody in the audience said, “So do you!”

When it was time for the book signing (after much clapping) the bookseller explained how she’d do the signing, as she moved back to the little table and sat down. Basically, he explained where the line should snake around. I was toward the front of the line. When it was my turn, I gave her my book and said, “I’m Susan.” As she was writing, I said, “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight, until I was walking past the bookstore at six o’clock this evening.”
She laughed and said, “Good. That means there was a sign out front.”
So here I am with this autographed book…and I’ve been too busy writing this journal entry to get back to reading the book! But it’s time I go ahead and do just that…

Portland was like a science fiction and fantasy convention all day—from astronauts roaming the streets in the morning, to the spirituality bookstore, to Ursula K. LeGuin’s reading. And given the people you see on the streets at any given time, it’s like a science fiction and fantasy convention every day. When it comes to clothing and personal style, anything goes.
I wandered 21st and 23rd Ave a little more after the reading—it was a late sunset—and I came to an odd gothic-looking tattoo shop that sold a lot more than tattoos. In the front window were dummies in punkish black clothes, and also a mirror display that included Dr. Who action figures: two Daleks and a Cyberman.