This transformation of the American literary field has been, in many ways, a salutary one. It has led to a dazzling wealth of historical narratives, fostered the careers of a new generation of American writers, and contributed to the formation of a literary canon that is markedly more inclusive than it has ever been. More important still, it has helped to reshape American historical consciousness. As historians such as Hayden White have recognized for at least half a century, our understanding of the historical past is inseparable from the structure of the stories we tell about it. The long-refuted assumption that “the difference between ‘history’ and ‘fiction’ resides in the fact that the historian ‘finds’ his stories, whereas the fiction writer ‘invents’ his,” White argues, overlooks both the historian’s commitment to narrative tropes and the historical novelist’s commitment to factual research.
All of this made me realize that cooking together is a bit like starting a daily exercise practice: It requires determination and conscious decision-making and the development of new muscles, specifically that of accommodation. Could David and I cook together every day? Probably not, at least not in this kitchen. And I don’t think either of us would want to; again, we know our strengths, and we’re good at playing to them. But while I can’t say this experience led to memorably deep conversations or above-average bonding, it was, in its own way, satisfying, especially because cooking together made it a lot easier to clean as we went, which ensured that no one got stuck scrubbing dishes afterwards.
It’s all part of a unique annual tradition for a growing group of women — in their 20s all the way up to their 70s and even 80s — to let go of their inhibitions, disrobe and set off for a swim in the Irish Sea. Strip and Dip, as it’s called, is the brainchild of a cancer survivor named Dee Featherstone, who is in her mid-50s and works in digital marketing. After rejoicing over the end of her treatment, Featherstone decided she wanted to raise money for a cancer-focused charity as a way to pay it forward. She thought an epic skinny-dip would make for a more memorable fund-raising activity than, say, a bake sale or trivia night.