Archive | March 2010

Many Happy Returns: March 26th

A.E. Houseman, b.1859.
Loveliest of trees, the cherry

Robert Frost, b.1874.
The Door in the Dark
Fire and Ice
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Some of the poetry of these two poets may be among your ten favorite classic poems. Have you sent in your list yet? Today is the last day to email the titles of your top ten classic poems to sherryDOTearlyATgmailDOTcom. I’ll be counting down the Top 100 Classic Poems as chosen by my readers beginning April 1, in honor of Poetry Month and in celebration of the best in poetry.

Many Happy Returns: March 24th

William Morris, b.1834.
The Defence of Guinevere by William Morris.

Quoth Mr. Morris:

“If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”

“With the arrogance of youth, I determined to do no less than to transform the world with Beauty. If I have succeeded in some small way, if only in one small corner of the world, amongst the men and women I love, then I shall count myself blessed, and blessed, and blessed, and the work goes on.”

“If I were asked to say what is at once the most important production of Art and the thing most to be longed for; I should answer; A beautiful House; and if I were further asked to name the production next in importance and the thing next to be longed for; I should answer; A beautiful Book. To enjoy good houses and good books in self-respect and decent comfort, seems to me to be the pleasurable end towards which all societies of human beings ought now to struggle.”

“All rooms ought to look as if they were lived in, and to have so to say, a friendly welcome ready for the incomer.”

“It took me years to understand that words are often as important as experience, because words make experience last.”

“The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.”

Fraternite of Authors

I’m not sure how much the great authors are fans of one another’s work. I once did a post called Mudslinging Authors and Literary Daggers in which I quoted various authors’ opinions on other authors. It’s funny, but not very pretty.

Eldest Daughter did a seminar last semester in her graduate school on French author Emile Zola. I wonder if she would agree with Ibsen?

“Zola descends into the sewer to bathe in it, I to cleanse it.” — Henrik Ibsen.

Today is playwright Henrik Ibsen’s birthday, b.1828.

French novelist Emile Zola was born on April 2, 1820.

The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters

This book was either frustrating in the extreme, despite the absorbing plot and characters, or else I just didn’t get it. It ended in the way that many of us fear LOST (the TV series) will end: ambiguously and without answers. Consider yourself warned.

I enjoyed reading The Little Stranger, but I enjoyed reading it because I thought I would find an explanation for the suspenseful events of the novel by the end. If you read The Little Stranger hoping to find out what is causing strange things to happen at Hundreds Hall, you will be disappointed. The book has drawn comparisons to Edgar Allan Poe and to Henry James’s The Turn of the Screw, but there is a difference. When I read The Turn of the Screw, I was also frustrated by the ambiguity and the unresolved ending. But as I thought more about it, I realized that one could choose how to interpret the book, there were “plausible” answers to the questions raised in the books and there were more supernatural possibilities. But there were answers. The Little Stranger is not so satisfactory in this regard. All of the people in the book could be insane, but that’s hardly likely. There could be actual ghosts at Hundreds Hall, but since everyone experiences the ghostly events in the book quite differently, that solution doesn’t satisfy either. As a third possibility, some real person could be producing the supernatural effects at Hundreds Hall for some nefarious purpose, but it’s not clear how that could be true either. In fact, it seems impossible –which brings us back to insanity or a multitude of ghosts.

Some ambiguity at the end of a book, or a TV series, is acceptable. Total confusion and anticlimactic dissatisfaction is not. It’s the difference between fiction and real life: in real life sometimes I must resign myself to never knowing how the story ends because “we see through a glass darkly.” I want my fiction to have an ending.

Other bloggers say:

Fleurfisher: “It made me want to go back and look at things again, and this could well be a book that has much more to offer with subsequent readings. And the ending? It’s subtle and could be read in more than one way.”

Stephen Lang: “It is beautifully paced, full of subtle observations and quite simply a pleasure to read. It is also one of the most effective, chilling and original ghost stories I have read for some time. I finished The Little Stranger a few days ago but, still thinking it through, I have been unable to start a new book.”

Nicola: “It did not end the way I had expected and I was quite shocked with the outcome and actually quite annoyed that things ended up the way they did. I’ve had time to recuperate now, but that is the sign of good characterization, when a book’s characters mean so much to you that you are invested in them and want all to end well for them all.”

Pro-Life Country

You might find this country song a bit too sentimental and simplistic, but I thought it showed how the message of the value of human life is resonating in all sorts of sub-cultures, even country music.

Many Happy Returns: March 8th

Kenneth Grahame, author of The Wind in the Willows, b. 1859. And isn’t it appropriate that Grahame’s birthday falls at the beginning of March? The Wind in the WIllows is definitely a spring sort of story, even though its scenes take the reader through the year from its beginning with spring-cleaning to a summer paddling boats on the river into fall and then winter in the Wild Wood.

“The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring cleaning his little home. First he swept; next he dusted. Then it was up on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash. Finally he had dust in his
throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above him, reaching even into his dark little underground house. Small wonder, then, that he suddenly threw his brush down on the floor, said “Bother!” and “Oh dash it!” and also “Hang spring-cleaning!” and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat.”

A.A. Milne on Grahame’s book:

One does not argue about The Wind in the Willows. The young man gives it to the girl with whom he is in love, and, if she does not like it, asks her to return his letters. The older man tries it on his nephew, and alters his will accordingly. The book is a test of character. We can’t criticize it, because it is criticizing us. But I must give you one word of warning. When you sit down to it, don’t be so ridiculous as to suppose that you are sitting in judgment on my taste, or on the art of Kenneth Grahame. You are merely sitting in judgment on yourself. You may be worthy: I don’t know, But it is you who are on trial.”

Willows links:

Inspiraculum: “I’ve just read ‘The Wind in the Willows’ by Kenneth Grahame for about the fourth time.”

Ahab’s Quest: The Wind in the Willows is Charming.Willows is a sensuous experience because Grahame so deliberately takes the reader through the small, pleasant things that fill our days. Every meal is described in detail, such that one tastes the picnic along with Mole and Rat.”

Beyond the WIld Wood by Alan Jacobs: “Best of all were those winter evenings when I crawled into bed and grinned a big grin as I picked up our lovely hardcover edition of Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows, with illustrations by Michael Hague. Before I cracked it open I knew I would like it, but I really never expected to be transported, as, evening by evening, I was. After the first night (I read only one chapter at a stretch), I wanted the experience to last as long as I could possibly drag it out. It was with a sigh compounded of pleasure and regret and satisfaction in Toad’s successful homecoming that I closed the book. I knew I would read The Wind in the Willows many times, but I could never again read it for the first time.”

The WInd in the WIllows at 100 by Gary Kamiya (Salon magazine): “It is apples and oranges to compare Grahame and the two other masters of genre-blurring imaginative prose, Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Grahame cannot rival Tolkien’s epic grandeur, nor does he possess Lewis’ double ability to create completely different imaginary worlds and weave vivid and intricate stories. But neither of those geniuses handle English the way he does. Tolkien knows only the high style, and Lewis’ solid prose never soars. Grahame is the inheritor of the stately style of Thomas Browne and the lyrical effusions of Wordsworth, with a little Dickens and P.G. Wodehouse thrown in as ballast.”

Many Happy Returns: March 7th

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, b.1806, the eldest of twelve children was a sickly child and was injured in an accident at the age of fifteen. She was a devout Christian, a learned scholar and an opponent of slavery in spite of the fact (or maybe because of it) that her family’s fortunes were founded on their plantations in Jamaica.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Perhaps this classic love poem is one of the poems on your list of Ten Favorite Classic Poems. Whether or no, send in your list to sherryDOTearlyATgmailDOTcom soon so that you can have a say in which poems are in the final list of 100 Classic Poems that I will begin counting down for Poetry Month in April.

The Travel Wish List With Literary Accoutrements

Always Chasing Boys had a review of The End of the Alphabet, a book I read and commented on a few months ago. In her review Inquirer shared her own alphabetical travel list and asked for that of others.

Since I’ve never been able to do much of the travel I would like to do, my list is rather standard in some respects. I’ve never been to a foreign country, except for crossing the border into Mexico. I’ve only visited in a handful of states besides Texas. I have a lot of traveling I’d like to do, so this list is made difficult only by the necessity of limiting it to one place per letter of the alphabet.

A is for Australia. In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson would make a fun, lighthearted accompaniment to a trip Down Under.

B is for Boston. I want to see the famous places where our American history started. I’ll carry with me Johnny Tremain and David McCullough’s biography of John Adams.

C is for California, especially L.A. My book for the trip: Men to Match My Mountains by Irving Stone, a history of the settlement of the Far West in California, Utah, Colorado, and Nevada.

D is for District of Columbia, or Washington, D.C. I’ve actually been to DC once, but I’d love to return and spend a week or two in the Smithsonian and then see all the other places of historical significance in Washington.

E is for England, Anglophile that I am. I want to see all of it: London, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, the British Museum, The Tower, Oxford, Cambridge, Yorkshire, Canterbury, all the places of my imagination.

Oh, to be in England
Now that April’s there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England – now!
~Robert Browning

April seems like a good time to visit Merrie England, but I’ll take any time of the year.

F is for France: Paris, the south of France, a French bakery, the Louvre. Eldest Daughter has to be my tour guide when I go to France because she speaks French and because she’s been to France and knows the sites.

G is for the Grand Canyon and Gettysburg National Park. I’ve never been to either. For the canyon I could listen to Ferde Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite, and then at Gettysburg I’d re-read The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara.

H is for Hawaii, of course. A cruise while re-reading James Michener’s Hawaii.

I is for Istanbul/Constantinople. I’d love to see the Hagia Sophia and the historical sites of ancient Byzantium. I could take Stephen Lawhead’s Byzantium.

J is for Japan. I’d like to finally read Silence by Shusaku Endo, but it might be kind of a downer for a pleasure trip. So I could also bring along a couple of manga translated from Japanese. I’ve never read any manga either.

K is for Knoxville, Tennessee because my sister lives near there, and she would show me the Appalachian Mountains and all sorts of other sights.

L is for Leningrad, now again know as St. Petersburg. I’d read Dostoyevsky or Tolstoy, of course.

M is for the Mississippi RIver. Float down the river while reading Huckleberry Finn or Cornelia Meigs’s Swift Rivers.

N is for Nagaland in northeastern India, known as “the only predominantly Baptist ethnic state in the world.” The population of Nagaland is over two million people, and 75% of those people are Baptist Christians.
Also New York City. I sometimes think that East Coast Americans in general have an attitude that says that the USA, at least the part of it that matters, begins and ends on the East Coast. However, NYC does matter, and it would be worth seeing and exploring.

O is for Oxford. I already put Oxford among the places I want to visit in England, but I want to be doubly sure to visit Oxford and Cambridge and see all the Inklings sites. I’d take my Tolkien and Lewis books along with Dorothy Sayers’s Gaudy Night.

P is for Prince Edward Island. Anne of Green Gables country.

Q is for Queen. I could at least see Buckingham Palace while I’m in England, even though I probably can’t finagle an invitation to meet the Queen.

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been?
“I’ve been to London to look at the queen.”
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there?
“I frightened a little mouse under the chair.”

R is for Rome, Italy. I’d like to see St. Peter’s and the Sistine Chapel, of course. The Colliseum.

S is for Scotland. How the Scots Invented the Modern World: The True Story of How Western Europe’s Poorest Nation Created Our World & Everything in It by Arthur Herman sounds like excellent reading material for this particular alongside some fiction by Alexander McCall Smith (the 44 Scotland Street series) or Sir Walter Scott (Waverly, perhaps).

T is for Tanzania: Lake Victoria, Mount Kilimanjaro, Serengeti National Park. Re-read Joy Adamson’s Born Free. Adamson actually lived in Kenya, but it’s close.

U is for Ukraine. Kiev is the largest city in Ukraine.

V is for Valparaiso, Chile. I’d like to someplace where I could try to speak Spanish and see if I can make myself understood.

W is for Wales. I could read some more Stephen Lawhead: the Robin Hood trilogy. Or some historical fiction by Or I could read Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain series all over again.

X is for Xanadu. “In Xanadu did Kublai Khan a stately pleasure dome decree/Where Alph the sacred river ran beside the sacred sea.”

Y is for Yellowstone National Park. Could I be very non-literary and watch old Yogi Bear cartoons in preparation for my trip to Yellowstone?

Z is for Zion, the Biblical name for Jerusalem. No travels would be complete without a trip to the Holy Land to see the places where Jesus walked. Exodus by Leon Uris is the perfect fiction book for this journey, and of course, the Bible would be indispensable.

Where would you like to travel, and what books would you take along?

On Work

“The Church’s approach to an intelligent carpenter is usually confined to exhorting him not to be drunk and disorderly in his leisure hours, and to come to church on Sundays. What the Church should be telling him is this: that the very first demand that his religion makes upon him is that he should make good tables.” ~Dorothy Sayers

Make some good tables today.

Semicolon Book Club for March

The theme for the Semicolon Book Club for March is biography/autobiography, and the particular selelction for this month is David McCullough’s Mornings on Horseback, a biography of Teddy Roosevelt, the 26th president of the United States. The subtitle is “the story of an extraordinary family, a vanished way of life, and the unique child who became Theodore Roosevelt.”

I very much enjoyed reading McCullough’s biography of John Adams last March, and I expect to enjoy this book just as much. TR is one of my favorite historical characters.

Come back to Semicolon after Easter (April 5th) for discussion of this most excellent biography.