On Writing, Music, and My Ancestors

My second cousin through my father, Dr. Reuben Merliss once wrote a novel of historical fiction called "The Year of the Death." It was set in 1348 and recounted the terror of the bubonic plague as it swept through France and claimed many lives. Reuben was not a full time writer, but instead like my father and grandfather a doctor of renown if not fame in his chosen field. And yet the novel showed a remarkable attention to historicity and character development as well as the medical advances of that time in history. Reuben had clearly placed an impressive attention on the writing and publishing of this novel, which indicated to me that the project had taken on a strong amount of importance to him. But the novel was not a success despite positive reviews in both the Los Angeles Times and the New York Times. Reuben wrote only one more novel which was also unsuccessful. "Consider The Season: A Novel of The Making of a Doctor," which concerned a young doctor making his way through medical school was also well-written but seemed more reserved in its approach as though only a fellow doctor could truly understand the personal troubles of the medical profession. Though he had a few short stories to his name, Reuben never had another novel published and whether or not he even considered writing another has remained unknown to me. Though my father knew of Reuben, they were never truly close, and my grandfather's contact with him decreased over the years. Reuben resided in Beverly Hills, California for much of his adult life and died four years before I was born.

Though Reuben was my second cousin, he was much closer in profession to both my father and grandfather than I am. I often tell people that I am the first male Merliss in a generation to be musically rather than medically inclined. I learned from my father how greatly worthy of respect the profession of medicine is and I still hold that knowledge dear to me. Yet I had a premonition from the time I was in my late toddlerhood that music was the course my life was bound to take. Even so, the encouragement I received form my family was never less than stellar in the progress I made. But my only links to music through my father were the remarkable achievements of Ned Liben and Borah Bergman two other cousins who unlike Reuben were living when I was born, but died before I could have become acquainted with them. To me, all three of my cousin's memories feel like enigmas swirling through my consciousness with no semblance of flesh and blood, though I know perfectly well they were just as human as I am and loved in the way that I too have been fortunate to be loved.

Although music is my primary focus I do in fact appear to share a commonality with Reuben. I too have an interest in writing which I have pursued in my own way ever since I realized that writing was something I was capable of. I do not of course share his knowledge of medicine, but in the bitter attempts at poetry and stories I have attempted thus far I have never wanted my subjects to lack the human element Reuben succeeded in capturing through his own work. Many questions remain in my head as to what right I have to set down the stories of characters not of myself but of various individuals I have known throughout my life. Another is how much time I could possibly devote to the thinking process of writing as Reuben did when he wrote "The Year of the Death," while writing was not our primary focuses as I am a musician and he was a doctor. I am young but I get no younger even as I ponder these questions. Yet perhaps just as I imagine Borah, Ned and Reuben did as they thought, doing as I think as opposed to simply sitting and thinking is the first step to take toward the legitimacy of this path.