MuseLetter \’myüz-‘le-tər noun
1: a personal message, inspired by a muse of one's own creation, addressed to a person or organization, in the course of which, the sender becomes absorbed in thought; especially turning something over in the mind meditatively and often inconclusively.
2: a letter from a poet, or one who envisions oneself as such, in which he or she “muses” on that which is perceived to be news, or newsworthy, usually in some ironic or absurd way.
No September 2025 issue.
Rounding Up The Usual Suspects
For those of us still carving out a life, and pausing at times, to create some pulp fiction around it...
Happy Halloween!
Shifting gears, he goes on to address something I tried to in a poem I wrote long ago that will follow this piece.
Something Wicked This Way Comes
Coming upon Ray Bradbury's novel of the above title— with its foreboding prologue, "...one strange wild dark long year, Halloween came early"— I thought I'd give it a shot. Especially, what with October and Halloween on the horizon. Despite never having been a particular fan of science fiction. Something I once unabashedly said to Mr. Bradbury of all people, upon meeting him one evening at an event at the Griffith Observatory in L.A. almost four decades ago.
"It's the covers," I explained, only half-facetiously. "They are so hokey I can't get past them." With visions of these sorts in mind.
A brief synopsis of the book and film:
Ever gracious and jocular he replied, "Yes. They are, aren't they."
I've come to know that Bradbury resisted being categorized as a sci-fi writer, emphasizing that much of his work encompassed other genres: fantasy, horror and magical realism. In retrospect, I guess that doubles my social faux paus in pigeon-holing him as I did. And while his most well-known and popular work is the dystopian novel Fahrenheit 451, SWTWC is not sci-fi, but rather a genre-bending fantasy. And it's been said to be one of his favorites of all he has written. Which after much difficulty was made into a 1983 Disney movie. Which had required his having to step in and re-write a script that in other hands, had missed the mark. (3-minute Trailer):
Two 13-year-old boys, light-haired Will Halloway (born one minute before Halloween) and dark-haired Jim Nightshade (born one minute after it), encounter a mysterious carnival; Cooger and Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show. Which arrives at the odd hour of three o'clock in the morning on October 24th, in the small Midwestern town of Green Town (a stand-in for Bradbury's Waukegan in which he grew up).
This sinister carnival promises to fulfill their deepest desires and fears. Led by Mr. Dark, who uses a magical carousel to alter people's ages and traps townspeople, who succumb to the offers of a tempting escape from life's frustrations and desires. Leading them to a nightmarish fate. In essence, the loss of their soul.
The boys, along with Will's wise father, Charles Halloway, must battle Mr. Dark and his minions, finding their strength in positive emotions like laughter and love to overcome the evil. Bradbury is a devout believer in love, which comes forth through this novel. (Source: AI aided)
A seemingly simple horror story, one will find much within to mine. Take carnivals, and by extension circuses, for starters. Are they not inherently grotesqueries of human flesh and spirit? Implicit of a darker side of our species? Masked, costumed and embellished as they are. As if to transform us into distorted alter egos. Even when done in comedic ways.
That there is something evil-looking and sinister about clowns, has long become a cliche. And while some circuses still have animal acts— which are a form of cruelty when you think about it (which we never did back in the day)— many have stopped and there is a growing trend toward animal-free shows.
And is there a need to explore a sense of an underworld and an evil-twin self, which is what makes Halloween so bewitching and enchanting? At its core, this book is about confronting fear of the unknown. And in so doing triumphing over the power that it ought not to have on us. If one can summon the strength to look it in the face and laugh.
Finally, there are the classic themes of the coming of age, and the viewing of age and aging from varying perspectives. The parent recalling their days as adolescents, and now as adults, their struggles in trying to be hero to the child. The child in coming of age now beginning to see their parents anew. Wise, yet with their own doubts and fears. And in the crisis they are needing to jointly confront here, that gap that invariably exists between parent and child now closing. Which is why a Washington Post review summarized it as "A timeless rite-of-passage book." This was particularly brought home for me by Will Halloway's dad Charles, in this monologue. In which he veritably waxes poetic. Which these segments will indicate:
"The carnival is like people, only more so. A man, a woman rather than walk away from, or kill, each other, ride each other a lifetime, pulling hair, extracting fingernails, the pain of each to the other like a narcotic that makes exitance worst day. So the carnival feels ulcerated egos miles off and lopes to toast its hands at that ache."
"It smells boys ulcerating to be men, paining like great unwise wisdom teeth, twenty thousand miles away, summer abed in winter's night. It feels the aggravation of middle-aged men like myself, who gibber after long-lost afternoons to no avail."
Published in 1962 and a best seller, it wasn't on my high school reading list. I was in my junior year at the time, and newly published hardcovered books never were. It takes time for books to achieve the accolade of "Classic." And despite my thinking that it ought be on every such list of today, Bradbury's own Fahrenheit 451 seems to edge it out in that regard. But one is never too old to return, if not to high school (ugh), then to a book one might have missed along the way. Oh, and as for that title which might have been apparent? Two lines from Shakespeare's Macbeth from which it cometh:
By the pricking of my thumbs,
something wicked this way comes.
A Poem Reprise
Through a Fresh Autumn Breeze
First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys.
—Ray Bradbury
I saw you go over the top
and down into the abyss—
the soles of your feet left me behind
as deeper you plunged
to where dragons still breathe fire.
Sea lions in prismatic waters
you come up not for air
but for a charge of pure white light
then continue, flex in a void
within echo of the rigid ground
in which I pitch my iron staff.
I would have followed you
in those eternal summers
that would magically turn into fall;
a lemming with flaxen hair
cropped close to my thoughts
on hero and heaven—
I would have followed you who are both.
You would have known me
and seen me, and I—you,
in places that we cannot meet now
but perhaps one day will,
when I tire of my vigil.
Quote of the Month
After 70 Years, the Honeymoon is Still Not Over
On October 1, 1955, the first episode of what has come to be known as the "Classic 39" episodes of
aired on the CBS network. Though it was not America’s first introduction to the Kramdens and the Nortons, as these characters had made appearances in sketches on the Cavalcade of Stars and The Jackie Gleason Show as early as 1951. At a time, when less than a quarter of all households had a TV set.
Our household, which bore some semblance to Ralph and Alice's in its starkness— and what with us not being among the early adopters of this incredible new technology—I can’t say I remember ever seeing those early 50’s sketches. Even though an aunt and uncle “upstairs” (our version of the Nortons?), had a 10-inch set. But I certainly remember seeing most of those classic episodes at their original airing when we finally got our very own TV. I was ten years old at the time.
On Saturday nights, it was must-see TV. Actually, everything back then was must-see TV, so fascinated were we by this magical box that had taken the country by storm. And in so doing, forever changing an American way of life. Usurping the role that radio had played. Yet, a good chunk of the country still did not own a TV as of 1955. In fact, the very first Honeymooners episode, "TV or Not TV," centered on Ralph's desire to get one. And his scheming to do so at minimum cost. Afterall, the Nortons—Kramden's version of keeping up with the Joneses—were planning to do so.
It is difficult to underestimate how groundbreaking a show this was, from a sociological perspective. As outlined in a piece from Wikipedia, which is how I remember it.
It depicted the gritty, relatable struggles of a working-class couple in a modest Brooklyn tenement. In contrast, most 1950s sitcoms portrayed idyllic, affluent suburban families living comfortable, sanitized lives. The show's honest approach to financial woes, a sharp-tongued marriage, and unfulfilled dreams set it apart from its contemporaries like Father Knows Best and Leave It to Beaver.
Yes, even at prepubescent ages, my cousins and I would laugh, not with, but at such suburban sitcom bullshit, which bore no resemblance to our life experience. Where voices raised in anger and frustration were commonplace, and could be heard, especially in summertime, through open tenement windows.
The show's dispensing of notions regarding the rigid roles and codes assigned to the sexes within a marriage, vocalized by a blustering even bullying Ralph Kramden, seems so ancient and ludicrous to us now. But we accepted them at the time without any flinching. Might not a Ralph Kramden, be accused of spousal abuse today? If indeed not arrested, were an Alice ever to press charges. Though he never laid a hand on her, merely forever threatening that... "One of these days...POW right in the kisser." And in the process, sending her... "To the moon Alice!" But she always held her own against him. In defusing his bombast.
The core premise of the show though, is not built around marital discord. Rather on the everyman Ralph Kramden, and his perpetual aspirations to something greater, in the face of personal limitations. Which would always come up short. Which has a universality about it. Something to which in some way, we all can relate.
But cutting through all of that existential mishigas, what made the show work, is that it was flat out funny. Even hilariously so at times. Owing to the brilliance of Gleason. And the comedic timing between him and Art Carney was something to behold. Especially when Ralph was conjuring up another get-rich harebrained scheme and bringing in Norton as an accomplice.
Ever since it went into syndication in 1957, The Honeymooners, in one form or another, has been on the air. It enjoys a cult following, made manifest for example, here in New York, by way of local station WPIX's seasonal marathons. Its annual New Year'sEve/Day version, is coming up on its 50th year this December 31st.
Along with traditional TV airings on various local stations, Honeymooner episodes are available on the nostalgia network, MeTV, and various streaming services such as Paramount +, Tubi, Pluto TV and Hoopla. As you might expect, some episodes are also available on YouTube. The irony in this "Classic 39" turning 70, was that this half-hour sitcom, ran for only one season. It's final episode coming on September 22, 1956.
"Baby, you're the greatest!" Still.
