Islanded in a Pandemic

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • August 3, 2020

In the life of each of us . . . there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness; we are each the uncompanioned hermit and recluse of an hour or a day; we understand our fellows of the cell to whatever age of history they may belong.


– Sarah Orne Jewett, The Country of the Pointed Firs


The above quote is from my favorite book – which I have written about before – The Country of the Pointed Firs . I try and read this book every summer. The quote has never really struck me before until now. In light of COVID-19, it sat with me and I read it several times over. It is in reference to Joanna Todd – a young woman who banishes herself to live alone on a thirty-acre desolate island that is sleeping not far from the shore of the coast of Maine near the fictional Dunnet Landing.


Jewett wrote several books of short stories that were published before this Firs and I like to think that Maria may have read at least one of them since these first stories were published starting at least a decade before Maria’s death. Jewett spoke of nature in a way that Maria would have appreciated. While Maria was an astronomer and mathematician, she was also a naturalist as I have noted before, and daily nature walks were a part of her life. She noted what was blooming, the challenges of an insect she came across, and she even named wild animals that lived around the Vassar College Observatory.


But in light of where we all find ourselves right now – and over the past four months or so – it’s a prison to some extent. Even those who revel in being alone find themselves struggling – not all for there are some who find being completely alone and away from people a positive thing for whatever reason they have. For example, some children have detested “zoom school” while others have reveled in it and found it a new avenue for better learning than what they found in the classroom – alone, focused, quiet, or what-have-you. The pandemic has, to some extent, made hermits of us, recluses. For some, they feel as if they are in a cell bound by the four walls of their home – even if they can go out into a yard or down the street to briefly buy groceries. The whole “stay at home” has made them feel isolated, compressed, shackled, claustrophobic. It has left us alone in some cases with our feelings and emotions – more deeply than when one is running from place to place. Everyone has a different feeling but the idea of a prison, a cell, being remote, being “islanded” has become more apparent or more of a feeling for many.


JNLF

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By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger December 15, 2025
[1855] On the 12 th [December] at 8 o’clock, I found a comet in Cetus. It is probably that seen by Bruhns in Berlin on Nov. 12. It is round and bright and moved so rapidly that in an hour I was certain of its change of place. From 8 to 10 ½ it had moved about half the diameter of my field of view. I tho’t it varied in its light but of this I am not quite certain, as I at times changed from one instrument to another, and I cannot be certain that my eye was not somewhat affected by the size of different powers, so as to affect my judgement. I would give a good deal for it to be my own possession, because it would convince me that I was not declining in vigor.  This comet, unlike her won comet of October 1, 1847, is fairly fast moving – it would take many calculations and much time for her comet to illustrate its movement – beyond just the appearance of its “tail.” Maria had made earlier comments in the month about if being a hard year – the hardest of her life. The loss of friends, her mother’s illness. But this, with other matters, buoyed her spirit and she talked about her “blessings.” This comet was one seen by Maria only eight years after her comet discovery so it seems interesting that she feels she is slipping and not as “vigorous” – she is only thirty-seven years old at this date. JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger December 9, 2025
Another re-blog. I came across this recently while looking through my computer files. I want to re-blog it in memory of Jean Hughes, an incredibly gifted islander, who was directly influential in the lives of so many island children and those in need. She was the Coffin School Trustee’s President for many years and I had the honor to serve as a trustee under her. She passed away in the summer of 2025. Jeanie loaned me this from her family collections as she thought I would enjoy it. She knew me better than I thought she did. With love. 1830s Chinese silk to be exact. It literally floated into my lap as I sat reading a letter.  A letter from a young Nantucket girl to her grandparents. A young girl who just several years before had moved from tiny Nantucket Island to San Francisco with her mother to join her father. He had moved for better work and a better life. Nantucket was in an economic decline. Reading this treasure trove of letters – loaned to me by a friend who is a descendant of these people I mention – was like spying on them. Now, when I read Mitchell family letters and writing it is slightly different for me. Having worked in the Mitchell House for so long, I feel like they are a part of my family. This batch of letters was different however. I felt like they know I read their letters – as if they were looking over my shoulder or sitting on the other side of the room aghast. I felt like they thought no one ever would – or at the very least an outsider – read this correspondence. The worse letter one was the son writing to his mother upon receipt of her letter telling him of his father’s death. That was hard. Made harder because he thought his father was fine – he was as of the last letter a month or two before. Made harder as I lost my own Father a little over a year ago. I knew how he felt – but cannot imagine receiving a letter that is about a month old telling one of such horrible news. He had not seen his father in several years. I could speak to my Father, visited him monthly, and was there with him. That was not an easy letter to read. The silk fabric piece is quite beautiful – and still pristine – as if it was just folded into the letter yesterday. She wanted to share with her grandparents the dress that her cousin had brought to her directly from Hong Kong. A cousin, who was likely pregnant – or “sick” as was written but it was obvious what “sick” meant (yes, pregnancy was looked at as an illness in a way – and there were high rates of infant and mother mortality during and immediately following birth). The cousin had travelled back and forth to Hong Kong on the China Trade with her husband it seems but due to the pregnancy had to be put off with family or others until the baby was born. This was a common practice for the wives of whale captains who might go to sea with their husbands. They were put off with other whaling families or missionaries in far off ports so that they could have their baby where others could help. Sometimes they were put off months in advance. And, did you know that Nantucket whale wives were the FIRST to go to sea with their captains husbands? They set the trend – after all, we were the whaling capital of the world. At least, until we lost that title for multiple reasons. I digress. The other piece that leads one to realize that money was to be had – at least for the cousin – is that she didn’t bring fabric – she brought the dress already made in Hong Kong. Yes, it would have been less costly there than in the United States but it shows there was extra money for spending. And, there was enough excess fabric inside the dress for this young girl to cut off a piece of it and send it to her grandparents. Making them feel as if they were a part of her daily life – and making her feel that way too. So far from home. On the other side of the continent with Nantucket Sound in the midst, to boot. JNLF
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“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.” -Edith Andrews
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