The author of my favorite book, Benjamin Alire Sáenz, has died. While I feel like he’s probably not sad about it, I am very sad about it. I did not know him, not even parasocially really. I followed him on instagram, but even so he’s not a huge celebrity or anything so there’s not really anything to be parasocial about. Yet, I am so sad.
I’m crying while I write this. I’m crying while I write this in Japan, and I’m so happy, and life is great, and I’m so sad. I haven’t written on my blog in months, maybe even a year, but I don’t want to journal this, I want to share how much I’m feeling about this with other people. Hopefully in a way that no one sees it though, since this is a blog on my personal website. Just, the potential to be seen and understood.
Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (and it’s sequel but I call them the same so I can categorize both as my favorite book) are the only books of his I’ve read. I always thought about reading his other books, and maybe I still will, but I struggled to even re-read Ari and Dante for a long time. I thought that because I read the book for the first time when I was so young that I had made up the magic, or the magic was my own youth and if I ever read it again I would be disapointed. This was untrue and I’m glad I finally got over it. I re-read this book to feel safe, I re-read this book to feel grounded, I re-read this book to feel loved. It only takes me a few hours to read the first one, but everytime I walk away feeling connected to myself again. Reading this book out loud is the closest thing I’ve ever done to spell work. Hearing my voice narrate the story, creating a prescence for it in the real world feels different from anything else. One of the copies I have of this book I have started giving to my friends who haven’t read it along with a color coded writing utencil to annotate while they read. I call it my loved edition. Even if it doesn’t resonate the same to them, it means the world to see their words in the pages of the book that has meant so much to me.
I really don’t know if I know how to understand that the hands that created their story, a story that has carried me through and shaped so many parts of me that I probably couldn’t even list them all, is no longer breathing the same air as me. He is gone, but even sitting here right now I can feel his art living in me. Is that cheesy? Really, is that cliche? I don’t know if that’s what everyone says when an artist dies, but it feels true. I can’t divorce myself from the effect that his story has had and will continue to have on me. Ari and Dante’s story is a part of my story. Right now I’m looking out the window and my Ari and Dante hat is hanging on the clothes line because it’s so hot today I sweated in it a bunch and wanted to give it a chance to dry while I’m inside. They’re with me everywhere I go. I’m crying again for those keeping track. I wasn’t even thinking about wearing that hat for some reason today, it’s just what I do, they’re as familiar to me as water. They live in my day to day and I’m so happy for it. There’s defintely a gap today though. There’s an unbearable sorrow and I guess I’m kind of typing this so I can hopefully bear it as I go through the rest of the day trying my best to carry it.
Thank you for giving me a place to feel safe, thank you giving me a way to see myself, thank you for continuing to have a place in my life, thank you for helping me see that my emotions are not a burden, thank you for showing me a love that lives in my heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I’ll keep searching for the secrets of the universe, but I’m glad you found them Benjamin.
Love,
Polar