Rebecca Solnit

Sallie Shatz, Rebecca Solnit, date unknown

Rebecca Solnit is an interesting writer. Interesting, first, for her voice, which is simultaneously that of the memoirist, the journalist, and the critic. Interesting as well for her style, digressive and intelligent. And interesting for her subject matter, which ranges widely but returns almost always to the land.

But what may be most interesting about Solnit is her hopefulness. Her completely unjustified hopefulness, premised, as hope is, on the notion that people are good and will do what is right. Premised, in her own words, on the belief “that people have power; that the power people possess matters; that change has been made by populist movements and dedicated individuals in the past; and that it will be again.”

I don’t know who those people might be. The people I see when I look around are selfish, stupid, and venal. Not you, of course, dear reader, and not a few people I know personally, but all those other people we read about in our newspapers and see on our televisions. And the very worst of them are those who actually have power.

Still, everyone has a foible or two, and I don’t hold Solnit’s against her. Besides, I like what she says about the importance of enjoying your life, with or without hope: “A passion for justice and pleasure in small things are not incompatible. . . . You win a small victory by embodying freedom, justice or joy, not just campaigning for them.”

Small victories are us.