Attention Must Be Paid

As autumn arrives (finally!) in the place where I live, the phrase "attention must be paid" repeats in my mind like a mantra. The tulip poplars don their radiant gold and the sweet gum trees toss their rust-red crowns to the breeze, while the oaks cling to their green like people who insist on shorts and flip-flops well into November. Attention must be paid.

Photo by Adrien on Unsplash

Winter squash and new apples replace sweet corn and heirloom tomatoes at the farmer's market and on my table. Linen shirts give way to flannel and wool. Attention must be paid.

Depending on where I sit and the time of day, I am knitting a new commissioned sweater design, swatches for an upcoming yarn review, or a cheery pair of striped socks. All involve different yarns, different needle styles and sizes, and different stitch patterns. Attention must be paid.

The yarn is Biscotte Yarns Bis-Sock. The color way is Hudson’s Memories.

As I continue physical therapy following my recent knee replacement, I feel for the point where the stretch goes almost too far, I notice the muscles which grow stronger every week, and I'm grateful for the absence of the daily pain to which I had become accustomed over the years. Attention must be paid.

Of course, the presidential election here in the United States is only nineteen days away. The rhetoric, hyperbole, distortions, warnings, and utter insanity of this election cycle are inescapable. Attention must be paid, no matter how tempting it is to simply tune out. And a vote for Kamala Harris must be cast.

---

Let's credit the source of this iconic phrase. It comes from American playwright Arthur Miller's (1915–2005) 1949 play Death of a Salesman. Linda Loman, the wife of protagonist Willy Loman, speaks about her husband toward the end of the first act:

“I don't say he's a great man. Willy Loman never made a lot of money. His name was never in the paper. He's not the finest character that ever lived. But he's a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid. He's not to be allowed to fall into his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must finally be paid to such a person.”

If you ever have the opportunity to see Death of a Salesman on the stage, go. It is a masterpiece. But not in some high school production. Willy and Linda must be played by mature actors whose faces bear the erosion caused by years of striving with little reward. If a good stage production is not convenient, there are several film versions available to stream, including the one from 1985 linked below, starring Dustin Hoffman as Willy with a shockingly young John Malkovich as his son Biff.

---

---

I recently finished a novel which reinforced the need for attention to be paid in relationships. It is The Divorce by Moa Herngren, translated from the original Swedish by Alice Menzies.

Bea and Niklas are a moderately well-of couple living in Stockholm with their twin teen-aged daughters. Herngren takes us into the end of their marriage, gracefully intertwining Bea's side of the story with Niklas'. Both have legitimate grievances, both have their blind spots, both behave badly as they try to create (or hold on to) the life they want.

I found my alliance shifting along with the shifting perspectives. The author makes skillful use of flashbacks to illuminate the fears and desires which motivate Bea and Niklas. The backstories slowly unspool as the novel progresses. So much pain could have been avoided if each of them paid more attention to both their own needs and those of their partner.

There is no rom-com happy ending here. But if you enjoy a beautifully written relationship drama, I highly recommend The Divorce.

---

Book title links are affiliate links to Bookshop.org, a non-profit which support independent bookstores. If you make a purchase using these links, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you.

---

The New York Times recently ran a series of interactive features called "Test Your Focus: Can You Spend 10 Minutes with One Painting?" I found them fascinating. You are given a single artwork, along with a couple of prompts, then asked to just look. You can zoom in and move around to focus on details, or simply gaze at the image on your screen. When 10 minutes have expired, a notification pops up. If you decide to quit early, you're told how long you spent looking.

The looking exercise is followed by an article about the painting.

The series includes an 1871 Whistler landscape, a 1965 portrait by Alice Neel, a mid-19^th-century woodblock print by Hiroshige, a tapestry from the late Middle Ages, and (my favorite) a 2020 painting by Catherine Murphy.

I have long been flummoxed by the number of people who walk through the galleries of a museum intently focused on the audio guide or spending more time reading the wall labels than they do looking at the art. This series is a wonderful reminder of the rewards art can bring if you simply pay attention.

---

As always, thank you for giving me the gift of your attention. It is never taken for granted.

Does fall bring this same sort of gentle (or not so gentle) demand for attention in your life? To what are you paying attention these days? Tell me about it in the comments. I promise: Attention will be paid.