May - The North Star Monthly

30 MAY 2010 THE NORTH STAR MONTHLY
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and songs of the woodland
gradually give way to songs of
the pond as the frogs chime in.
Of all the peeps and beeps and
trills, the nicest is that of the
American toad. I’m reminded of
what folks used to say about
Willy Nelson; “he’s ugly but he
sure can sing.” The toad song
swells and soars above all the
rest, the Willy Nelson of the
amphibian world.
Music goes soul deep. It goes
even deeper in our own species,
for it was with music that we
learned to communicate with
each other as a race, just as the
birds and frogs do. We took the
beat of our own hearts and
added melody to tell stories, express
love, and create our own
distinct cultures. All this probably
happened as long ago as the
time when we were still swinging
in trees, and certainly it had happened
by the time we had gone
to ground and lived in caves.
Bone flutes are among the earliest
artifacts of mankind.
Greek philosophers gave
music cosmic significance. According
to them, the stars and
the planets danced with mathematical
precision to the “music
of the spheres.” Today, using the
modern medical techniques of
brain imaging, scientists can see
how music resonates in even the
youngest brains. Music helps infant
brains to wire themselves
and prepare for the more complex
tasks of language. Music
helps people learn math. Music
helps people heal, both mentally
and physically.
Music continues to help us
socialize, and I remember well
those warm Saturday nights
when the music from Robinson’s
Pavilion wafted up the valley to
our ears. There were dance halls
everywhere in those days. That’s
what people did on a Saturday
night, and not just young people
but whole families. The music
was made by their friends. People
danced. When radio had
come along fifty years before
that, and families had gathered
beside the receiver on a Saturday
night, the dance hall business
began to fade a bit but it was still
going strong into the seventies,
as were the informal gatherings
Summer Escape
hidden
in
vermont’s
northest
kingdom
of friends with fiddles, guitars
and banjos. It was a lot of fun.
Those days aren’t completely
gone, but they mostly are. Now
music seems to have become
more personal, a consumer commodity
more than a social event.
In the modern era of digital
downloads, listening to music is
all too often a solitary and private
experience. People with
headsets dance alone, and that
may be just as well in some ways
because the inner city boom box
or loud car stereo is distinctly
anti-social, meant to offend.
Now religion is the last bastion
of participatory music, much as
it was in the beginning.
I am reminded now of a
farm family in Cabot many years
ago which had a hermit thrush
that they had raised. By the time
I saw it, the bird was ten years
old or so and I understand it
lived for a few years more after
that. It sang, too, but could only
manage the first few notes. Then
the tune went astray into nonsense.
Somehow it had inherited
the introductory notes but it
never had the opportunity to
learn the rest. That’s the thing
Private sandy beach on Caspian Lake
Nature programs
Morning play program for children
Boating & tennis
Wedding celebrations & family reunions
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Vermont Fresh Meals
about music. It’s still a social
event for birds and frogs, but it
is becoming less so for many of
us. Even in our schools, it is
often the music program that
gets cut first when budgets get
tight. I think of that thrush
now, and worry that in some
ways we, too, might be losing the
tune.
Book Review
New Mosher Novel
Deserves a Toast
BY MARVIN MINKLER
It is always a cause for celebration,
when a new Howard Frank Mosher
book is published, and with “Walking
to Gatlinburg, raise high the glasses.
This rollicking page-turner deserves to
be toasted.
In his new novel, the author’s first
thriller, a young man named Morgan
Kinneson, begins a journey from Kingdom
Mountain, in northern Vermont,
through the heart of darkness in the
Confederate south, in search of his
brother, Pilgrim, who has been missing
since the bloody battle at Gettysburg,
and to avenge the murder of an escaped slave he was helping get
north through the Underground Railroad.
Along the wilderness way, a deranged madman, and his quartet
of demented villains pursue Morgan. This scary bunch, are in
search of a mysterious stone, that they suspect the young man of
having. Morgan’s trek also includes encounters with a teary-eyed
elephant, a gunsmith who preaches peace, a tree-bound woman,
and a lovely and intriguing slave girl named Slidell, who is the key
to the unlocking of the mysterious stone. It is a grand walk
through the dark land of the Civil War, and Mosher tells his story
well.
Vermont’s storyteller of the first order, and a state literary
treasure, Howard Frank Mosher has written a marvelous tall-tale,
that sends shivers up the spine, is funny, sad, delightful, and when
the final page is turned, a truly satisfying read.
Walking to Gatlinburg can be found at all our area independent
bookstores. Look close and you might also spot Howard, as
he is currently on tour with his book and traveling slide show.
Caspian Lake / Greensboro, Vermont
802-533-2647 / fax: 802-533-7494
www.highlandlodge.com / info@highlandlodge.com
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802-533-2531
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