NOVEMBER 29, 2018 // 3
SCRATCHPAD
The quest for
quiet spaces
By ERICK BENGEL
COAST WEEKEND
THOMAS ROTT PHOTO
Features Editor Erick Bengel.
coast
INSIDE THIS ISSUE
weekend
arts & entertainment
4
7
8
THE ARTS
‘Scrooged in Astoria’
‘Tis the season for laughter with ‘Scrooged in Astoria’
COAST WEEKEND EDITORS
ERICK BENGEL
LAURA SELLERS
CONTRIBUTORS
DAVID CAMPICHE
KATHERINE LACAZE
EVE MARX
PATRICK WEBB
COASTAL LIFE
Close to Home
The art of celebration
To advertise in Coast Weekend,
call 503-325-3211 or contact
your local sales representative.
© 2018 COAST WEEKEND
FEATURE
‘The
Nutcracker’
New items for publication
consideration must be
submitted by 10 a.m.
Tuesday, one week and two
days before publication.
Eighty dancers,
55-piece orchestra
and a 12-voice choir
TO SUBMIT AN ITEM
LAMPING
PHOTOGRAPHY
12
O
ver Thanksgiving
weekend, while
staying at the Sylvia
DINING
For smaller appetites
Ladies who breakfast for under $20
FURTHER ENJOYMENT
ART WALKS ...................................2
MUSIC CALENDAR ....................5
CROSSWORD ...............................6
SEE + DO ............................. 10, 11
CW MARKETPLACE.......... 15, 16
Find it all online!
CoastWeekend.com
features full calendar listings,
keyword search and easy
sharing on social media.
Phone: 503.325.3211 Ext. 217
or 800.781.3211
Fax: 503.325.6573
E-mail: editor@coastweekend.com
Address: P.O.Box 210 •
949 Exchange St. Astoria,
OR 97103
Coast Weekend is published every
Thursday by the EO Media Group,
all rights reserved. No part of this
publication can be reproduced
without consent of the publisher.
Coast Weekend appears weekly
in The Daily Astorian and the
Chinook Observer.
Beach Hotel in Newport, I
came upon a preciously rare
sight: a roomful of strangers
silently reading.
In the warmly lit, amply
furnished top-floor reading
area, a young girl stretched
herself across a sofa, and
read. Couples leaned against
each other, sipped tea and
hot spiced wine, and read.
Finally, my partner and I,
after surveying this sweet
scene, took our places, dug
out our books, and read.
No cell phones in use. No
inane chatter. No pressure
to entertain anyone but
ourselves. Just the pages
before us, pictures of famous
authors bearing witness, and
the rain beyond the darkened
windows. This was quality
time.
We need more public
places where people can
gather to pursue solitary
activities.
Libraries can meet this
need, especially when they
allow coffee, stay open late-
ish, aren’t fully open-con-
cept and boast quiet reading
rooms where you don’t get
caught in the crosstalk of
unselfconscious patrons.
Cafes can do this as
well. A personal problem,
however: When I read, I
hear a voice in my head
reading to me. This means I
prefer absolutely no music
in my surroundings. Same
deal when I write or edit.
To work with words — to
process information and
evaluate a piece of writing
— I have to discern their
tone and rhythm. Anything
that disrupts the voice makes
me feel as if I’m trying to
listen to a radio station while
another keeps overriding it.
Most cafes, then — likely
by design — aren’t options
for reading at length. Even
on a slow day, when the staff
are totally cool with a cheap-
skate bookworm hogging
a table for hours and just
buying coffee and maybe a
brownie — and many, un-
derstandably, aren’t — they
play music as if it’s a matter
of policy.
WE NEED MORE
PUBLIC PLACES
WHERE PEOPLE
CAN GATHER
TO PURSUE
SOLITARY
ACTIVITIES.
What about outdoor seat-
ing? Great idea — during
spring and summer. But
fall and winter on the coast
do not guarantee hours of
rain-free skies. My eyes scan
desperately for eaves and
covered patios during the
cold months and find them
in short supply.
Good grief, Erick, why
don’t you just read at home?
Fair enough. And I do.
But fellow introverts who
don’t want to be shut-ins
know what I’m talking
about. Sometimes we like
to see humanity without
interacting with it, make eye
contact and acknowledge
people without it turning
into a thing.
Quiet people can have
trouble advocating for
themselves in their quest for
quiet spaces. We tend to feel
weird being ourselves in a
world that demands most
public pursuits be social
ones. When we read or write
around others, we don’t get
the affirmation that comes
with, say, playing softball.
But when we notice some-
one else holding a book or
notebook — doing some-
thing in public that engages
their mind and doesn’t
require a companion — we
feel validated.
Which brings me back to
the Sylvia’s reading area. A
no-talking rule didn’t have
to be enforced (it was, you
might say, unspoken). When
a pair of women wanted
to work on a puzzle in the
kitchen nearby, they closed
the door behind them. We
all knew what we were
there to do, and used the
space for that which it was
intended. We were out and
about, but having inward
experiences.
And we need more spaces
like it — so we can be soli-
tary, but not alone. CW