Los Angeles Times - 21.09.2019

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HOME & DESIGN

M

y current
home in New
York City
consists of six
humans, two
small bedrooms and one
bathroom. As a child, I lived
in a home in a much smaller
city with four humans, three
bedrooms and two bath-
rooms. Even then, the only
really good place for reading
was the bathtub, without
the water. It was peaceful in
there. No one bothered me
or asked me to do some-
thing else.
My theory about living in
small places in cities is that
your apartment extends
beyond your apartment.
Neighbors take out their
garbage in boxers; people in
pajama pants are out walk-
ing their dogs. They may be
on the sidewalk, but what
their clothing communi-
cates is that even on the
sidewalk, they are in their
own homes.
Thus, my dearest read-
ing nook is on the subway,
especially the 2 and 3 trains,
but with special respect for
the F train, which has the
highest incidence of fellow
readers.
On the subway, there is
blissfully, usually, nothing
distracting me. Except for
all the things I want to be
distracted from, such as the
latest Casper mattress
advertising campaign or the
train being stalled in a tun-
nel, or an announcement of
a medical emergency. The
subway is as powerful as the
dry bathtub: no one asks
anything of me there. Read-
ing on the subway is as
focused and intense as
reading was in childhood,
when books were other
worlds that felt more cred-
ible even than my own.
Since an average day for me
has four to six subway rides

in it, the subway reading

nook gifts me around a third

of a novel a day.

Unless the novel is magi-

cally long.

I’ve been reading long

ago and faraway of late.

More than usual. Maybe

because the this-just-hap-

pened news is on the hand-

held screens of other riders,

mutely shouting in what I

like to think of as the quiet

car. I recently reread Wilkie

Collins’ ” The Moonstone,” a

solid week’s worth of sub-

way rides. The epistolary

form of the 1868 novel

matched the punctuated

reading of the subway nook.

I’ve also been reading more

nonfiction. I recently read

the writings of Julian of

Norwich, whom before I had

only read about. She was an

anchorite who detailed her

ecstatic visions of God,

whom she saw as a mother.

This was a thousand years

ago. I hadn’t even under-

stood what an anchorite

was. It used to be a normal

practice to lock someone

away in a small room off the

church and never let them

out again — and this wasn’t

a punishment. Families and

friends sometimes held

funeral services for the

person going into isolation.

In other instances, an-

chorites became wise peo-

ple to visit and from whom

to seek council. It doesn’t

sound like a good situation

— it sounds like a primitive

solution for handling diffi-

cult people — but I do think,

if properly equipped, it

might be a nice place to

read. After Julian of Nor-

wich, I started C.V. Wedg-

wood’s “The Thirty Years

War.” Reading about hor-

rible times from the past —

times that are already over

— makes me feel curiously

hopeful.

When I first moved to the

city, I used to dream of

riding the subways from end

to end, making sure to take

each line over its entire

course. I don’t really know

why, or what I thought I

would see. Even on an ele-

vated train, you mostly miss

the neighborhoods you are

passing through. But the

subway already seemed like

one of the best places in the

city, and this was even be-

fore air conditioning. The

subway wasn’t a reading

nook back then, when my

home, however small, was

quiet.

Maybe, back then, the

subway was the other kind

of reading: the reading of

the visible world. Nowadays

I hardly notice the other

riders, unless it’s an hour

when there are no seats. Or

when the air conditioning

fails and I can’t concentrate.

Then I like to see what the

other riders are reading. Not

infrequently — the Bible.

Novelist Rivka Galchen’s

first children’s book, “Rat

Rule 79” is being published

this month.

READING NOOK

Author goes underground

to pursue her reading bliss

RIVKAGalchen reads

where others ride, in this

case, New York’s A train.

Georgie O’Neill

By Rivka Galchen

Close your eyes and imagine two shiny,

two-seater convertibles arriving in your

driveway, each screaming to be played

with. Such was my luck recently, when a

2019 Mazda MX-5 Miata RF and a 2019 Audi

TT Roadster were dropped at my door.

Why these two toys? Because at a time

when the white noise of automotive choices

has never been louder — EVs, hybrids,

semi-autonomous systems, hypercars — I

wanted to step back into the realm of puri-

ty, simplicity and fun, and pay homage to a

couple of four-cylinder heroes. Among so

many new-car contenders, few achieve this

trifecta: reasonably priced (Miatas start at

$25,730 and TTs at $44,900), bulletproof to

own and thrilling to drive.

Both cars have received enough adula-

tion from owners and media to persuade

their parent companies to continue to pro-

duce them: The Miata is celebrating its

30th anniversary this year, and the TT

Roadster its 20th (the TT Coupe launched

in 1998). Mazda has sold more than 1 mil-

lion Miatas worldwide, and Audi more than

600,000 TTs. They are proof points of con-

stant engineering and design refinement;

the Miata alone has won 281 awards. (The

Porsche 911 is perhaps the gold standard of

sports car longevity and evolutionary im-

provement — and far less attainable at a

$100,000 minimum cost of entry.)

I remember the much-anticipated

“birth” of each car. In 1999, I was invited by

Audi to the launch of the TT Roadster in

Umbria, Italy (I covered the automotive in-

dustry for Fortune at the time). I raced

around, top down, devouring the area’s

curvaceous roads and speed-blurring

through fields of sunflowers. The whole

time, I couldn’t help but admire the car’s

seemingly endless clever details, from the

baseball-glove-colored leather seats to its

smooth, capable performance. I was

hooked: a beautifully engineered piece of

German Bauhaus-inspired design that

isn’t so powerful or expensive as to scare

you, just enthrall you — every time you

climb inside. (A side note on Umbria: There

is a hotel in the town of Piedicolle called Mi-

ataland. The owners are avid Miata collec-

tors, and guests are invited to drive some of

the 40-plus cars housed in the property’s

converted 17th century buildings.)

As for the Mazda, on July 1, 1989, my

brother Dave took delivery of one of the

first Miatas in the country, in Massachu-

setts. He bought it sight unseen based on

early media coverage, stuffed his 6-foot-2-

inch frame into the little red beast and

drove it home to Washington, D.C. The

next day, he parked it in front of the White

House, which you could still do at that

point. Women vied for rides and Japanese

tourists, among others, swarmed the car

(Mazda had not yet released it in Japan).

And so a celebrity car was born.

Back to the present. The nimbus gray

metallic TT Roadster in front of my house

beckoned, so I jumped in. (Both cars were

lent to me for a weekend test drive by their

respective manufacturers.) From the clean

digital instrument panel and the flat-bot-

tomed sports steering wheel to vents with

the temperature and air controls built into

the center knobs, the latest TT is awash in

intelligent details. I pushed the start but-

ton and smiled as all 228 horses under the

hood growled to life. I opted for the manual

mode to be able to fast-flick the paddle

shifters and test the TT’s performance

mettle.

Through some of Malibu’s better can-

yons and along Mulholland, the Audi’s

quick reflexes made pushing the car feel as

effortless as playing a video game. Every-

thing worked exactly right: power when my

right foot asked for it, progressive and

smooth steering, all-wheel drive to keep my

exuberance in check. After a few hours of

spirited frolicking, I suddenly thought to

look at the time and caught myself grin-

ning like a kid.

Next up: The Miata.

Mine was an RF — the particularly

handsome retractable-roof version. I slid

into the fairly bare-bones cockpit and im-

mediately all senses fired: This is about

driving and only driving.

Dropping the user-friendly manual

gearbox into first (an automatic version is

available too), I took off, immediately feel-

ing the car’s innate jinba ittai, a Japanese

term that means a natural extension of

horse and rider, which Mazda has taken to

automotive levels. To that point, the Miata

fit me like a glove, and as I revved and

downshifted, the car and I became one in a

partnership of throttle, brakes and bal-

ance. Despite its 181-horsepower (add a

zero for the output some hypercars claim

these days), every stoplight felt like the

starting line of a race, every curve an op-

portunity to explore the car’s nimble han-

dling. Apparently, “Miata” is derived from

the Old German word “miete” meaning “re-

ward” — and the adrenaline-infused joy it

inspired is proof of a name well chosen.

All too soon, it was pumpkin time: The

real owners of “my” cars wanted them

back. I stood in the street as the Miata and

TT disappeared from view. The fun was

sadly over.

I know some of you are thinking: How

impractical to have a sports car! It’s not a

choice for everyone, but consider these

truths. We live in a sunny, warm part of the

world that most people view as a prime va-

cation destination. SoCal is home to some

of the finest roads to enjoy in a topless two-

seater. For the quality, performance and

heritage you’re getting, cost of entry for ei-

ther car is real-world (don’t rule out used

versions, as there are great bargains to be

had). Applaud these manufacturers for

keeping small sports cars alive in the face of

sedans and wagons getting pulled from

production left and right to make room for

the evermore ubiquitous crossovers.

For me, the TT ended up being my go-to.

From a Ralphs run to traffic jams, the Audi,

technically a luxury vehicle, is easy on the

eyes as well as the user with many up-to-

the-minute creature comforts, including

Apple CarPlay and vents in the headrests

to whisper warm air on your neck during

cold morning jaunts.

For purists, though, the Miata is the real

deal. It’s mechanical, straightforward and

purpose-built, which is why so many own-

ers also race their Miatas in amateur and

semipro series around the world.

Either way, you’re getting what is, sim-

ply put, an icon. These relatively green gas-

powered delights may one day be extinct,

so if you’re inclined, enjoy them now.

They’ve never been better.

DRIVEN

Fast, furious —

and affordable

AUDI TTRoadster’s 20th-anniversary edition has many intelligent details.

Audi

MAZDAmarks the Miata’s 30th anniversary with the 2019 MX-5 Miata RF.

James HalfacreMazda, USA

By Sue Callaway

Chris Erskine’s Middle Agescolumn runs every

other week. The next one will appear Sept. 28. To read

previous columns, go to latimes.com/middleages.

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