[This is a slightly edited repost from my LiveJournal, which most of
you probably do not follow. I thought the story was appropriate to
share here, too, though.]
Here's a story that, for some reason, I don't think I ever told on LJ
or the newsgroup. I'm not sure why, but no matter. I'll tell it now.
A few years ago, I got an email from Jason Denzel, whom some of you
may know runs Dragonmount, one of the largest Wheel of Time fan sites
on the Internet, if not the biggest. Jason told me that he and a few
friends were going up to Oakland, CA in November to meet up with one
James Oliver Rigney, Jr. and his wife Harriet for dinner and a VIP
tour of Pixar animation studios, and did I want to come along?
Well, now *there's* a stupid question.
My sister Liz and I, accordingly, rented a car that weekend and drove
up to the Bay Area. The rental company gave us this ridiculously
purple PT Cruiser which was about the last car I would ever have
*owned*, but as a weekend rental was hilariously awesome. It was so,
so very purple. Not only that, but Liz and I showed up at the rental
place separately, and realized we were both wearing - purple. when the
rental car lady handed me our rental agreement in a purple folder, it
was over. The trip became The Great Purple California Trip of 2004.
The trip up was relaxing and uneventful, the only shame being that we
didn't have enough purple music for our purple trip. (No Deep Purple.)
We did, however, stop and buy some purple wine, so *that* was all
right.
We arrived at our hotel in Oakland, which was sadly lacking in purple
decor, but consoled ourselves that the bedspreads in our room were
kind of deep red-purplish. If you squinted.
We weren't to meet Jason and the others until the next day, so that
night we went to Yoshi's, which is the most awesome sushi restaurant/
jazz lounge I've ever been in. Also the only sushi restaurant/jazz
lounge I've ever been in, but that's neither here nor there.
We had a fabulous sushi dinner, where I tried hot sake for the first
time, and afterward moved into the lounge area to be treated to a
performance by Arturo Sandoval. Sandoval is a protege of Dizzy
Gillespie's, and considered to be one of the best jazz trumpeters in
the world. I'm no expert, but he sounded pretty damn perfect to me.
While listening I ordered a Dragon's Blood martini, which had (among
other things) pomegranate and blood orange juice in it.
Guess what color it was.
The next day we drove to Pixar, and met Jason and his wife and a
couple other friends of his, including the lovely _____, who was
giving us this private tour of the studio. Jason, I'm pleased to
report, is a Nice Guy, and we got along well from the get-go.
Soon after that, Mr. and Mrs. Rigney arrived. Mr. Rigney walked
slowly, with a cane, but seemed lively and genuinely pleased to see
the studio. Mrs. Rigney was just adorable. Hopefully the big grin I
had on my face when introduced to the couple was put down to fannish
delight, and not what it actually was - sartorial glee.
Guess what color Mr. Rigney was wearing.
So, so perfect.
The tour was fun and interesting. As an owner of pretty much every
Pixar movie on DVD, much of it was stuff I had heard before on
commentaries or extras, but it was still cool to see it all in person.
My favorite bit was the life-size stuffed Sully (from _Monsters,
Inc._) in the foyer. He was very huggable.
We mostly stuck to Pixar/animation topics, but at one point we strayed
into a discussion of our favorite Wheel of Time characters. Mr. Rigney
seemed bemused to hear me state that I had loathed Mat for the first
three books, up until his fight with Galad and Gawyn in the Tower, and
that afterward he became my favorite character in the series.
We wandered about Pixar for a good hour or so, and then we trundled
off to dinner. Jason had chosen this Moroccan place, the name of which
I can't remember. There was a bit of a snag when we realized that
Moroccan-style dining involved sitting on the floor, which Mr. Rigney
was not able to do, but the staff kindly set up a Western-style table
for us toward the back, so all was well.
As it happened, Jason and I were sitting right next to Mr. Rigney at
the table on oppsite sides, and therefore shamelessly monopolized him
for most of the meal, while his wife held court at the other end. He
told fascinating stories all through dinner, and I'm now kicking
myself for not having written anything about them down at the time.
Three years on, sadly, I can't really remember the substance, though
at least a few of them involved anecdotes of his childhood, and we
compared notes on growing up in the South. I do remember at one point
gaining startled kudos from him for knowing what "l'esprit d'escalier"
meant.
He seemed... contented, to me. And by that I mean not just in
emotional terms, but as an entire - outlook on life, I guess. What I
have no doubt struck some as insufferable arrogance, came across to me
as a relaxed self-confidence that needed absolutely no outside
validation. Truly, an intensely annoying attitude, to those who see it
as an affront to their own lack of security.
This was a man who knew exactly who and what he was. He was a
storyteller.
*****
And now, he's passed.
I'm sad that he died without finishing what must be called his opus,
but I'm not sad that he started it and got as far as he did. How many
of us will create so much in our own lifetimes?
I'm glad I got to meet him. I'm glad I got to tell him that his books
indirectly changed my life, by leading me to a strange new world
called Usenet, and a group called rec.arts.sf.written.robert-jordan,
where I made friends I still have today and will (I pray) always have,
and went on adventures I never would have otherwise, and learned
things that life ought to teach you but often doesn't.
One may debate whether Robert Jordan's work may be considered art. I
certainly had my issues with it, as did many others, even as we read
and reread and discussed and made FAQs about it.
The Wheel of Time may never be held up as a great classic of
literature. But I'm not sure that's particularly relevant. The purpose
of art, in my opinion, is to create *reaction*. It is supposed to
affect the recipient in some way, whether that way be joy, awe, shock,
laughter, sadness, fury - whatever. It should create discussion, it
should move people to *feel* about it. It should alter the viewer/
reader/listener's life, even if only in a tiny way.
By that criteria, the Wheel of Time has been one of the single most
influential pieces of art in my life.
Requiscat in Pace, Mr. Rigney. You will be missed.
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