Last class blog

hopefully i will keep up with this after i don't have to anymore. it's good to be forced to write a little. even if i haven't had much time and i've recycled a lot of my older writing...maybe sometime i will get inspired. anyway, since i started with cummings, i will now end with him-


who knows if the moon's
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where

always
it's
Spring)and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves

My last blog was a liar

Ok, fine it was me that lied. But, still my last blog was not remotely literary.

Oh, that somehow reminded me of my FAVORITE children's book from when I was very young. I want to be a children's librarian so this actually is totally relevant. Yay me, getting it right on the second to last day. Ok, well the book was called, "The a Monster at the End of this Book" it is a sesame street book and Grover is the narrator (look at me fancying up a children's book with my literary knowledge...) Anyway, I loved it as a kid because Grover gets scared of the monster and he tries really hard to get you not to turn the pages, he begs, he boards it up, he puts up bricks and cement, but obviously you can still turn the page. And, then at the end it turns out (spoiler alert) that Grover is actually the monster at the end of the book. Hilarious. Children's books at their finest. I used to read this book to campers when I worked in a camp and they loved it too, I would ask if they thought I was strong enough to turn the page with the bricks, and did we really want to see the monster, and they always did.

Good times.


You can view it's amazon page here: http://www.amazon.com/Monster-This-Book-Birds-Favorites/dp/0375805613 (now I am officially an ex Barnes and Noble employee. They have a website too...)

something literary

I feel as if my posts have gotten pretty off track with the literary thing. I mean there's certainly been writing but I don't think I've read a single non-school book since I started this blog. And I really don't think I've written anything new to post here. But luckily I used to have motivation to write.
I must say I am excited that this semester is almost over. Partly because I get a month of not doing an enormous amount of school work (seriously, this program gives A LOT of work) but also because when I finish, and let's assume I will pass, I will actually have credits towards my MLS. This I believe will do a lot for my psyche. Ha, I just wrote psycho. I wonder what Freud would say about that...anyway, I will feel accomplished. And, that's always a nice feeling. It's the feeling I used to get when I finished reading a good book. Or writing something.

And, on that note, I will actually have time to read a little something once the semester is over too. And, I would really like that.

wilco is so awesome

that sometimes they are hard to listen to...


I am Trying to Break Your Heart

I am an American aquarium drinker
I assassin down the avenue
I'm hiding out in the big city blinking
What was I thinking when I let go of you

Let's forget about the tongue-tied lightning
Let's undress just like cross-eyed strangers
This is not a joke so please stop smiling
What was I thinking when I said it didn't hurt

I want to glide through those brown eyes dreaming
Take you from the inside, baby hold on tight
You were so right when you said I've been drinking
What was I thinking when we said good night

I want to hold you in the Bible-black predawn
You're quite a quiet, domino, bury me now
Take off your band-aid 'cause I don't believe in touchdowns
What was I thinking when we said hello

I always thought that if I held you tightly
You'd always love me like you did back then
Then I fell asleep in the city kept blinking
What was I thinking when I let you back in

I am trying to break your heart
I am trying to break your heart
But still I'd be lying if I said it wasn't easy
I am trying to break your heart

Disposable Dixie cup drinker
I assassin down the avenue
I've been hiding out in the big city blinking
What was I thinking when I let go of you

(Loves you)

I'm the man who loves you

why is it

that everyone I know seems to think it is better to be in a relationship, any relationship than to be single? I am not sure how this fits into my blog at all but I can't think of anything else to write right now.
It seems that the majority of people, probably mostly women, would prefer to be in a relationship, whether or not it's a miserable soul-sucking relationship, than be on their own.
But, what I don't understand is, it is quite possible to be perfectly happy while single, it is absolutely impossible to be happy while in a bad relationship.

I think all of my relationships have been bad...

cool

I assume this site can only post older, public domain stuff, but it's still kinda cool. And, they acknowledge that were librarians working for them it would be done better...


http://www.literature.org/

grrr

work is sucking today. it is way too early for this and it sucks. i have nothing remotely interesting to write because of how bad my mood is right now. can't deal. i am thinking of leaving that's how annoyed i am...but i won't because i never do.

I kinda liked this...

http://www.slate.com/id/2164806/fr/flyout

how a prisoner wrote a dictionary...

Dream

It's weird I never really remember my dreams but I write about them a lot. I write about this guy a lot as if he's in my dreams. He isn't ever really in my dreams. But, it does feel like my time with him was a dream, more like a nightmare.

Dream-

I had a dream about you the other night
It made you real again.
All this time away from you
but in my dreams,
there you are.

You dance on the edges
Between my consciousness
And what even I don’t know.

You were never there.
Not really.
But you stay here.

In the daylight I no longer feel broken,
I no longer feel like something is missing,
Like you’re missing,
But I can’t control my dreams.

Because, the other night I had a dream about you,
And it made you real again.

Lost Soul?

I wanted to sell him my soul.
But the funny thing is,
he didn’t really want it.

After that, I didn’t really want it either.
And then what was I to do
with an unwanted, unsellable
soul?

So I tried again. But this time
I wasn’t selling. I was giving.
And he liked taking better than buying.

I gave away my soul; didn’t think I needed it.
Maybe I was too hasty—he walked away
and kept what he didn’t even want.

The last of BN

Stares either at name tag or chest for what seems like a minute, “do you work here?”
“Nope, just love wearing my name on a rope around my neck.”

Whispering, “do you like sable?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you like sable?”
“Like the fur?”
“Yes, you know coats and stoles.”
“Um. Not particularly, why?”
“Do you like my outfit? What do you like, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then we’re even.” Don’t ask me to explain this one. I’ve got nothing.


These were just a few of the weird conversations I had while there. One time when the police were in the store after a man flashed a child, (yeah, it was terrible, and it was in a pretty affluent neighborhood) they told us that there is just something about bookstores and libraries that attract the perverts and weirdos.

Great choice of a profession...

Even more Barnes and Noble nonsense

Re-reading this I am beginning to think my working with the public is not the best idea...

I might have been the hottest retail employee ever to work for close to minimum wage.
Staring at either name tag or chest, “can I help you?”
“Oh, what? No.”
“Sorry to have disturbed your ogling of my chest, please don’t let me interrupt.”

“Hi,” said the 50-something man over the magazine he was pretending to read.
“Hi, do you need help.”
“No, I’m ok. You look nice tonight.”
“Thanks.” Does anyone else get the implication that “nice tonight” means better than other nights as in I’ve been watching you? Could be me. Or it could be his slicked back, thinning child-molester hair style that just makes me uncomfortable.

“Speak of the devil.”
“Excuse me? Can I help you?” Notice that in almost any situation I ask if I can help them, it doesn’t work.
“I was looking for you,” as he comes out fully from behind a shelf, and he is being helped by a guy I work with.
“Joelle, do you know where California, earth science is?” asks my fellow employee.
“In California? We don’t have sections for other states here. What book are you looking for?”
“Well we don’t have the book he wanted but I want to show him the section.”
“And, I guess I should have done a better job in describing you, I said the cute one who helped me before.” I did not help him before.
“Ah, ok, thank you. The earth science section is over here.”
As an aside, my co-worker later informed me that the man had been asking about me and he thought I knew him. Ahh yes, cause most of my friends would have asked him, “Hey where’s that hot chick?”

More real conversations

Ah, behold the language barrier.

“I want this in a book,” asked in an almost unintelligible accent while holding a box set of language tapes.
“Whatever we have out is what is in the store, so if you didn’t see a book we don’t have it, I’m sure there are things we could order for you.”
“I want a book.”
“I can take you to the section and look to see what’s in but if you didn’t see it most likely it’s ‘cause it isn’t in right now.” We walk to the section.
“I want this, but a book.”
“Ma’am, this is all we have in. These are the books for that language; however there does not seem to be a companion book for that particular tape set.”
“No, I want a book. I saw a book.”
“I can look it up to try to order it. Can I see the box?” I take the box and read the cover, where it says very clearly that this particular tape set is only tapes—no books needed. I point this out and walked away.

A Jew and Jesus

“What religion are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well I overheard you say that since everyone claims they can’t work on Sunday because they go to church you are going to take off Fridays and Saturdays for religious reasons.”
“Oh. I’m Jewish.”
“Why didn’t you want to say that?”
“Well sometimes people have problems with it. And I’m not really here to talk about personal things.”
“Oh, well there’s nothing wrong with being Jewish.”
“I don’t think there is, just some people could and it’s easier not to talk about it here.”
“No, no that’s so wrong. G-d loves Jews. After everything he did for you guys. He really loves you.”
“Um, thank you,” and I walk rapidly away.
But, of course I couldn’t get off that easily.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes? Do you need help?”
“No, I was wondering earlier, you looked a little funny. Did I offend you?”
“Oh, no not at all, I just don’t like talking about personal things here. We aren’t really supposed to and it tends to be easier not to.”
“Oh. Well I just wanted to make sure I didn’t bother you. Sometimes I do and I don’t mean to. I’m going to be a preacher.”
“Really, good for you.”
“Yeah, and you should know that if you ever find yourself interested in Jesus Christ, you should let yourself explore that. I have a friend who became a Jew for Jesus and his family disowned him. But really there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Okay, thank you. I have to answer the phone. Excuse me.”

Barnes and Noble

I do currently work in a library. But, I do not work with the public. I did work with the public at Barnes and Noble, and when I did some funny things happened to me. I wrote out some of the funnier conversations at one point. I'm going to post some here. These are all real.


A phone call gone horribly wrong

“Hello, how can I help you?”
“Hi, how are you?” says a youngish sounding man.
“Um, I’m good, how are you?”
“Good, good.”
“Can I help you?”
“I have a weird question. I am somewhat embarrassed. Do you read the New York Times?”
“Not everyday but frequently enough, why?”
“Well, do you read the style section? That is my favorite section. I read it every day. It is all about fashion. They review books in that section as well. They are very different books from the book review though.”
“Okay.”
“Well, the other day they reviewed a book that sounded very interesting to me, I was wondering if you carried it.”
“What book is it?”
“I’m embarrassed to say. I am a regular customer and I didn’t want to come in and ask for this book because I did not want anyone there to think I am weird.”
“We will not think anything of it, sir.”
“I am a young, good looking 20-something year old guy and I like domineering women. This book seems like it would be good in getting a girl like the one I am looking for. But I don’t want anyone to think anything of it and then I can’t come back there, I come there a lot.”
“Sir, we do not judge the books customers read.” (at which the customers standing near the desk fall over laughing, hitting each other and tearing at the idea that I am talking a customer down.)
“I guess but still I feel weird saying.”
“If you just tell me the title and I can tell you if we have it or not then I can help you, no one else will know what it is.”
“Okay. It’s called, Down Boy, it just seemed really interesting and explained how a woman could control a man and that is what I want.”
“Okay, we do not have it but we could order it for you.”
“Oh, well I don’t want to order it. If I ordered it is there any way I could only deal with you, that you could call me when it came in and then no one else would have to see it.”
“Sorry, I can’t know when it’s coming in exactly to possibly say I’d be the only person to see it. But it looks like a pretty tame book no one who saw it would even know what it was for or about. You could order it under a fake name, or from one of our other branches.”
“No, I only want to deal with your store.”
“Well, I don’t know how to help you. You could order it online. But really sir, it’s not that big a deal. We sell that Kama Sutra; no one here would blink an eye at a relationship guide.”
“I’m sorry maybe I am naïve. I don’t know what that is.”
“The Kama Sutra? It’s a sex guide.”
“Oh.”
“So, yeah sir, I can order you the book or give you a different stores number to call but I need you to tell me what to do.”
“Well, I work in Manhattan, I guess I could order it to one of the stores there and they don’t know who I am.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Okay, yeah I think I’m going to do that. So, do you’d like to read something like that?”
“Um, I guess it sounds ok.”
“So if I order it would you want me to bring it in so you could look at it?”
“Um, no thanks, if I decide I want it I’ll order my own copy.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Sir, I’m sorry but we’re going to close soon, you should call one of the Manhattan stores if you want to order it.”
“Oh, ok goodbye.”
“Bye.”

Smoke...

I wrote this...I'm not sure how much I like it...but here it is-

Smoke makes me think of you,
it shouldn’t, you aren’t the first to.
And yet the smell in my hair
even now, (you weren’t there tonight),
reminds me of you.

I get you in the day,
(you’re never here at night).
But it never seems like enough
for me—maybe it’s too much for you.
This smoke never goes away.

In the dark, I seek out other smokers.
They exhale and I inhale you.
Their smoke clings to my clothes
and I can imagine it’s you breathing,
(but only if it’s in the light).

Funny

You Should Be a Romance Novelist

You see the world as it should be, and this goes double for all matters of the heart. You can find the romance in any situation, and you would make a talented romance story writer... And while you may be a traditional romantic, you're just as likely to be drawn to quirky or dark love stories. As long as it deals with infatuation, heartbreak, and soulmates - you could write it.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

I love these things. They are ridiculous and yet so funny and so much fun to take...

Yay!

Your Vocabulary Score: A

Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary! You must be quite an erudite person.

How's Your Vocabulary?

still jetlagged

I cannot believe how tired I am. I have not been out of our time zone since I was in high school. And, I haven't been as far west as Las Vegas since I was an infant and my parents took me to California.
I learned to walk in California on that trip. I obviously don't remember it. I will definitely remember Las Vegas, especially because it made me remember why I am rarely friends with girls.
Still isn't improving and at this rate it doesn't seem like it will. I refuse to make up with the girl I'm not talking to. And, I can't see the other two making up either...

better mood

I was back at work today. That put me in a better mood. My friend's were disapointing this vacation, turning a trip into a boyfest and at our age I thought we were over that. Turns out we weren't. Also turns out that most of us are no longer friends. But just being home feels better than being there and perhaps some of us will get back on track and be friends again.

This is not literary...but it's hopeful. Besides, it is also original writing...

Back In NY

Jet Lagged.

Got home late due to rain.

scary, scary plane ride.

friends all fighting.

girls only vacation gone wrong

girls let boys ruin things.

why?

getting closer...

Oh Vegas, here I come!
It's kinda cool too. I had a midterm this week. And now I get to relax poolside and go out and finally have some nice warm weather.

I wanted to find something literary pertaining to Vegas...

I found nothing. But I am not sure what else to write this week as I am busy trying to finish up work and get home and pack I haven't had time to write anything new or read anything. Or even think up older stuff to discuss...I will be better once I'm back from vaca.

Vegas Baby

I am going to Las Vegas on spring break. Woooo! Three of my girlfriends and I are going. It should be awesome.
I leave the 31st, this Saturday and stay till the Wednesday, the 4th. One of my friends has been she said we don't need more than 4 days because Vegas gets a little insane.
Although, I have no intention of any wrong doings. And I guess if I did I wouldn't post that in here...
That will change my schedule for blogging. I can do one weds when I get home and then thurs fri and sat I guess. I will be going straight back to work so I think it should be ok...

Those will most likely be short posts.

I have been trying

to write this blog sort of regularly Mon-Thurs, while at work cause I have a little bit of time in between things to get this done. But I must say, even though I would have considered myself a writer not too long ago it's really hard to write something here 4 times a week.
I wonder what it's like for people who don't like writing?
Maybe I'm just not really a writer anymore...

It's funny to see the times I post these everyday. You can sort of tell the week I am having by how early or late I get to these posts...

why is it

that when we know we have a million other things to do something really useless and something that you normally would never want to do suddenly become the things you really want to do?

I have a paper to write, I am looking at my desk thinking it's dusty and that I should clean it.

This is not literary.

But it was on my mind, and is technically my own writing.

Perhaps I should add a random thoughts section here...

Do I look like a librarian?

Jane Austen, Romantic Feminism, and Civil Society

In her novels, Jane Austen may seem to be reinforcing the societal norms of women’s roles of her time by showing women primarily in the domestic sphere. Many of her protagonists are almost entirely concerned with who and how they will marry. However, Gary Kelly argues that her writing was a form of feminism, not for now, but of the time at which she lived. He claims that, “she participated in a feminism conditioned by the circumstances of what has come to be called the Romantic period … this was the role of women in creating and sustaining civil society in the aftermath of a political, social, and cultural cataclysm” (Kelly 19).
The French Revolution had a massive impact on all of the Romantics. The influence it had over Austen that is reflected in her novels is that of the changing social sphere, the decrease of the courtly system and the rise of a middle class, of which Austen and her readers were members. It was in the redefining of civil society that Austen’s novels and her Feminism lay, because according to Kelly, the redefinition relied largely on the roles of women. He says this is most shown in Persuasion, showing the upper class as greatly flawed and unable to see past the ideas of class. The people in the novel that she does not criticize are the navel officers and their wives, the professionals, which would have been of the same class she inhabited. This is also a civil society inhabited by women as well as men, and while they are still domestic they are seen as very important.
He states that Austen in showing women in the roles society assigned to them, she, “both represented and exemplified the power of women to create and sustain civil society, if given appropriate opportunity to do so”(Kelly 32). This may present a problem for current feminists, but Kelly writes that it is a function of feminism to see not only what is going on in the present but to see the past feminism in its own context and how it was shaped by both individuals and the collective of the time period.

Drive

I wrote this a long time ago...

Drive


Whenever I am with you,
I’m stuck straddling the line.
We fall somewhere
between drunk and sober.
I want to drink too much of you.
But you only give what you want
So I take what I can get.

You can take me.
That isn’t what you want
I’m not what you want.
I’m still blurring the line,
and you’re never clear.

I’ve been trying to span this distance
But it takes more than I have
So, I wait and drink
‘till I can’t drive.
(I couldn’t leave sober.)

I want you to
drive me
away.

Secresy

Eliza Fenwick’s epistolary novel, Secrecy tells the story of Sibella Valmont, an orphan who has been raised by her stern uncle, Valmont. He raises her almost entirely in seclusion, he lives in a castle surrounded by a moat, and Sibella is not allowed off the castles grounds. Her only companion is Clement, Valmont’s adopted son, who we will come to learn is actually his illegitimate son. Clement and Sibella love each other, and Valmont it would seem does not approve so he sends Clement from the castle and orders them to love each other as siblings and nothing more. Sibella’s only friend and communication with the outside world is Caroline Ashburn.
Caroline and Clement have a mutual friend in a Mr. Murden. They both extol Sibella’s virtues so ardently that it piques Murden’s interest and he finds himself falling in love with the idea of her. During this same time Clement is recalled to the castle where Valmont once again orders him and Sibella to love each other only as siblings. Clement tells Valmont he will. Sibella then decides that they will marry each other; of course locked in a castle they cannot have an actual marriage ceremony, so they instead have sex and Sibella considers herself married to Clement, he however does not agree. She drops her surname of Valmont in all her subsequent letters, Clement, still writes to Murden that he will make her his wife, not that he already has. It is the secrecy of this act that gives the novel its title. Sibella becomes pregnant, a fact that is hidden until the very end.
Murden in the meantime has hidden himself in the hermitage on the castle’s grounds in order to catch a glimpse of Sibella. None of his friends in society know where he is. He appears before her and she believes him an apparition. He falls very deeply into love with her. He then writes to Caroline and explains the situation. Caroline believes that Sibella loves Clement out of habit and of not knowing any better so she decides to orchestrate their getting together. Unfortunately no one knows of Sibella’s pregnancy at this time. Valmont shares his guardianship of Sibella with another, an Earl who has lost his fortune and decides that it would be beneficial if his son, Lord Filmar were to marry Sibella. Valmont refuses. However this does not stop Filmar’s pursuit. He visits the castle but is denied an audience with Sibella. He then devises a plan where he would remove her from the castle, but when he is executing it he runs into Murden and also believes him to be a ghost and is scared off his plan.
Sibella is unaware that she is actually her father’s heir and a very rich woman. Her uncle let her believe that she has no money of her own and is dependant on him. Murden overhears Lord Filmar discussing her wealth and tells her that she is actually not dependant on anyone. When she confronts Valmont, who must at this point know Sibella is pregnant, he locks her away and denies her even Caroline’s correspondence. Caroline then devises a plan by which Murden will help her escape using the hermitage he had been using. Their plan works, except Murden goes into shock over seeing Sibella pregnant. And then she in an effort to get to Clement escapes him and goes with Lord Filmar. Caroline finally tracks her down and brings Sibella to her house. However, by this time Clement has married Caroline’s mother for her money after being cut off by Valmont. Sibella learns this and has her baby, which is stillborn. Murden then dies, still in shock over Sibella’s pregnancy, and Sibella soon follows.

Harry Potter Part 2

Books are such an important part of my life I had forgotten how much I miss having time to read in my focus on the chaos that I have going on right now.
I have pre-ordered the book.
I remember how much I wanted to read the fifth one before it came out. But, I watched the second movie and realized I barely remembered the details of the previous books. So, while still in Albany I re-read the first four books.
I did a full-time internship at a newspaper my final semester of undergrad, thinking, obviously that I wanted to be a journalist when I grew up, (I've changed that just a bit since graduating...). My only problem with this job was that, actually two problems, I realized I didn't like journalism, especially political journalism as every time I went to a press conference I left feeling dirty, but more on topic to this particular blog, I had to stay in Albany until the legislative session was over, a full month and a half after graduating and all of my friends moving home.
I had to move into the apartment of a co-worker I didn't particularly like. She was filthy, I spent my first few days cleaning while crying. Everyone else had gone home. I liked most of my co-workers but not enough to make them my entire social circle. I think that if, during those few weeks there, my cell phone had broken I would have lost my entire mind.
This is not to mention that my grandmother died on my graduation day.
But, here I was, few friends, no family, in Albany, my home for the past four years but different now that I am alone. My boyfriend moved home, which meant that were to be the long distance couple that ended up breaking up. It was sad.
And, now you're asking what does this have to do with Harry Potter?
Well, in that month I worked waiting for the session to end, I re-read the first four Harry Potter books, and then re-read The Hobbit and a bunch of other novels. And before I knew it the month was over and I could re-join my life. And in doing all the reading I got to escape from feeling lonely. And I think it helped that Harry Potter books create a whole new world that I could get lost in.

time time time

I know I've said this before but I didn't mean to start a literary blog during the first time in my life when I haven't had the time to pick up a non-school book and read it...what are the odds of that? It's disapointing...normally I'd have had tons to say on all the books I'm devouring...but now all I have to say are recycled thoughts on books I read a year ago...It's sad.

Harry Potter

Have I mentioned on here my deep love for Harry Potter?

I am very excited by the new book coming out...

I've got to remember to pre-order it soon. And because I ordered my books for this semester on Amazon.com using my Amazon credit card I got a $25 back coupon for spending x (I don't remember what the amount was, besides this isn't an ad for chase) on the amazon website...pretty cool...it will make the book free...I should go do that now...

songs

I would consider myself a literary purist, however I think that music, even occassionally including pop music, can be poetry.

This being said, it's almost a cliche at this point, but I'm in a bad mood, so here are the lyrics to hurt, by trent reznor


I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

I think this speaks for itself...

toothpastefordinner.com

I had forgotten in my last post that I had already posted the villanelle that I had written after reading "One Art" it would have made more sense to post her poem before mine, or at the very least in sequence with each other. I was re-reading my earlier posts today in search of a topic I have not yet covered and had this realization. But, it is what it is and there's no need to change it.
I go through phases of which authors I am obsessed with reading. I guess I am re-reading her stuff right now because I feel like I don't have time to invest in a new novel, so re-reading shorter poems makes me feel like I'm still somewhat literary but without investing time that I don't have.

More Elizabeth Bishop

Hopefully whoever is reading this is loving her as much as I do...otherwise this might be sort of boring...


One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

No time...

Lately, I feel like I have no time to do any of the things I want to do. With my undergraduate degree, I had all the time in the world to read whatever I wanted, and for class and write my own stuff along with essays. This was mostly because so many of my classes were creative writing classes.
Now there are so many things I still want to read and even ideas of things I want to write but I never have time. Between work and these classes I feel like there's not time.
I really only feel this way because I want to read Stephen King's Dark Tower series because my friend is, but it's a long series and I don't have the time to make that kind of reading commitment. I think if I started to read it and liked it then I'd end up not reading for classes, which right now is more important.

An Essay on Insomnia

After reading "Insomnia" again I went back to my work from that semester and found an essay I wrote on it and decided to post it here because I really feel that poem is so moving and deserves an extra look. Plus I claimed this was a literary blog, so here's a literary critique.

The speaker of “Insomnia” by Elizabeth Bishop, is a person who is lying awake at night, thinking of an unrequited love. The speaker is watching the moon as reflected in her mirror. Interestingly it is only in the last line of the poem that the speaker addresses herself by using the word, “me” and then the reader can see that the speaker is identifying with the moon. This late use of personal pronouns is fairly common in Bishop’s poems. Because the moon is female it makes the reader view the speaker as female. The poem uses very basic diction, but the images and figures of speech are much more complex than the language used would seem. There are perfectly rhyming lines, but they do not seem to fit into any pattern, it is similar to a sonnet in that the last two lines rhyme, however, there are 18 lines not the usual 14 for a sonnet. The rhyming is subtle enough that the language of the poem still seems very natural and not overly poetical.
The speaker personifies the moon in the first lines of the poem, “The moon in the bureau mirror / looks out a million miles / (and perhaps with pride, at herself, / but she never, never smiles)” (1-4). The speaker is thinking that the moon is not just a reflection but a female who is admiring herself in the mirror. The moon has become another woman, with pride, but she does not smile, she is not happy. The moon, by being up at night with the speaker, connects the poem with the title, “Insomnia” either the moon or the speaker, or both are suffering from it. “far and away beyond sleep, or / perhaps she's a daytime sleeper.” (5-6). The fact that the speaker and the moon are both up at night, when most others presumably are not gives the speaker a sense of alliance with the moon.
“By the Universe deserted, / she'd tell it to go to hell,” (8-9). Here, because the moon is alone at night, like the speaker, the speaker sees it as abandoned by the universe. This is more personification of the moon and the whole universe. The moon was clearly not abandoned, it is out at night for the same reason the sun is visible during the day, so it is more likely that the speaker was actually abandoned by someone and is personifying the moon to be in a similar position as herself. The speaker is imagining in these lines that the moon is a scorned woman, but that she is strong and the type of woman who would tell the person, or in this case the universe to go to hell. By putting “she’d” in italics the way she does, the speaker is implying that others, most likely herself, would not be strong enough to do the same to someone who had abandoned them.
The speaker then imagines, “and she'd find a body of water, / or a mirror, on which to dwell.” (10-11). This image is similar to the beginning lines where the moon is looking at her reflection. The last part of these lines is the most interesting, the speaker thinks the moon would find something reflecting to, “dwell” on. She would not go out and meet someone new; she would focus on her own image. This makes the reader wonder, what is the alternative? What is the speaker doing, if not telling whoever it is that wronged her to go to hell? She imagines the moon being strong enough to tell someone off and then be satisfied on her own; perhaps something she does not feel herself capable of doing.
Imagery of reflection and inversion play a large role in this poem. The last two lines of the second stanza and the whole third stanza are the speaker imagining a different sort of world. It is a sort of dream world where things are backwards. Mirror images are inverted so the moon looking at itself in the mirror is seeing itself reversed. The speaker says:
So wrap up care in a cobweb
and drop it down the well

into that world inverted
where left is always right,
where the shadows are really the body,
where we stay awake all night,
where the heavens are shallow as the sea
is now deep, and you love me. (11-18).

The last line of the second stanza is enjambed with the third stanza, connecting them. The speaker is addressing a person in these lines, presumably the person who left her. These last lines explain why the speaker wants to moon to be a woman abandoned, because the speaker is in love with someone who does not love her—except in this mirror image world. It is interesting however; that the speaker is asking the person to send his cares into that alternate world. The rest of these lines describe a dream place where everything is backwards. “where we stay awake all night,” (16) this line is not referring to the insomnia the speaker is suffering from now, but rather the two people staying awake all night, together. This is the first time in the poem someone other than the moon is addressed, but it is not until the last line that the speaker mentions herself. Although the speaker does not directly refer to herself throughout the poem she is still a very large presence throughout.
This poem uses simple words, or diction, rhyme and personification to create complex imagery that is both profound and beautiful.

Elizabeth Bishop

I spent a lot of my last semester of my Master's degree working with Elizabeth Bishop poems. So I want to post one of my favorites here. This probably won't be the last of her poems I put here. She's that good.

The moon in the bureau mirror
looks out a million miles
(and perhaps with pride, at herself,
but she never, never smiles)
far and away beyond sleep, or
perhaps she's a daytime sleeper.

By the Universe deserted,
she'd tell it to go to hell,
and she'd find a body of water,
or a mirror, on which to dwell.
So wrap up care in a cobweb
and drop it down the well

into that world inverted
where left is always right,
where the shadows are really the body,
where we stay awake all night,
where the heavens are shallow as the sea
is now deep, and you love me.


I had forgotten until just now that this poem existed. I forgot how good it is.

Emily Bronte

Writing about Jane Eyre, which I should have mentioned was by Charlotte Bronte, got me thinking about Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte which I like even more than I liked Jane Eyre.
And I love this quote, especially the end about Heathcliff and Catherine's souls. It's such a beautiful idea. I am going against everything I learned in literature classes by admitting to liking things for the ideas and not the language and the deeper meaning but who cares.

"Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and if the wicked man in there, had not brought Heathcliff so low I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him; and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire."

Jane Eyre

I loved Jane Eyre. I read it quite a long time ago and for class and I didn't have that high of expectations. But, I loved it. And I still do.
I am not sure what made me think of it, maybe the bad weather, I think of Victorian literature and I think of rain. Even if the stories don't involve great scenes of rain my mind always pictures the great love scenes or climaxes happening in the rain. Maybe I just like the idea.
But, anyway, Jane Eyre. I just really love the idea that Jane and Mr. Rochester overcame so many obstacles to find each other.
Although, I know this is not the most feminist standpoint and I know that many women's studies advocates would argue that his treatment of his wife, and even of Jane make Mr. Rochester a bad guy and that he doesn't come back to Jane until he's been crippled and cannot function the way he had been. But, I don't care.
I am sure if we read into everything then nothing could be taken at face value, and of course in my class I had to analyze all parts of the novel, so here I don't think I have to and I don't have to defend feminism and I can just say that I really loved the story and leave it at that.
And with this, "I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you."
So good.

The Modern Library has a list of the 100 greatest novels written in the 20th century. When it first came out I tried to read off that list, but sometimes a girl wants to read something a little lighter, so I haven't completely abandoned my goal I haven't gotten very far.
Here's the list, I'll star which one's I've read.
1. ULYSSES by James Joyce
2.THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald*
3.A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN by James Joyce
4.LOLITA by Vladimir Nabokov*
5.BRAVE NEW WORLD by Aldous Huxley
6.THE SOUND AND THE FURY by William Faulkner
7.CATCH-22 by Joseph Heller
8.DARKNESS AT NOON by Arthur Koestler
9.SONS AND LOVERS by D.H. Lawrence*
10. THE GRAPES OF WRATH by John Steinbeck
11. UNDER THE VOLCANO by Malcolm Lowry
12. THE WAY OF ALL FLESH by Samuel Butler
13. 1984 by George Orwell*
14. I, CLAUDIUS by Robert Graves
15. TO THE LIGHTHOUSE by Virginia Woolf
16. AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY by Theodore Dreiser
17. THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER by Carson McCullers
18. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE by Kurt Vonnegut
19. INVISIBLE MAN by Ralph Ellison
20. NATIVE SON by Richard Wright
21. HENDERSON THE RAIN KING by Saul Bellow*
22. APPOINTMENT IN SAMARRA by John O'Hara
23. U.S.A. (trilogy) by John Dos Passos
24. WINESBURG, OHIO by Sherwood Anderson
25. A PASSAGE TO INDIA by E.M. Forster
26. THE WINGS OF THE DOVE by Henry James
27. THE AMBASSADORS by Henry James
28. TENDER IS THE NIGHT by F. Scott Fitzgerald
29. THE STUDS LONIGAN TRILOGY by James T. Farrell
30. THE GOOD SOLDIER by Ford Madox Ford
31. ANIMAL FARM by George Orwell*
32. THE GOLDEN BOWL by Henry James
33. SISTER CARRIE by Theodore Dreiser
34. A HANDFUL OF DUST by Evelyn Waugh
35. AS I LAY DYING by William Faulkner
36. ALL THE KING'S MEN by Robert Penn Warren
37. THE BRIDGE OF SAN LUIS REY by Thornton Wilder
38. HOWARDS END by E.M. Forster
39. GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN by James Baldwin
40. THE HEART OF THE MATTER by Graham Greene
41. LORD OF THE FLIES by William Golding*
42. DELIVERANCE by James Dickey
43. A DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME (series) by Anthony Powell
44. POINT COUNTER POINT by Aldous Huxley
45. THE SUN ALSO RISES by Ernest Hemingway
46. THE SECRET AGENT by Joseph Conrad
47. NOSTROMO by Joseph Conrad
48. THE RAINBOW by D.H. Lawrence
49.WOMEN IN LOVE by D.H. Lawrence
50.TROPIC OF CANCER by Henry Miller
51.THE NAKED AND THE DEAD by Norman Mailer
52.PORTNOY'S COMPLAINT by Philip Roth*
53.PALE FIRE by Vladimir Nabokov
54. LIGHT IN AUGUST by William Faulkner
55. ON THE ROAD by Jack Kerouac*
56. THE MALTESE FALCON by Dashiell Hammett*
57. PARADE'S END by Ford Madox Ford
58. THE AGE OF INNOCENCE by Edith Wharton*
59. ZULEIKA DOBSON by Max Beerbohm
60. THE MOVIEGOER by Walker Percy
61. DEATH COMES FOR THE ARCHBISHOP by Willa Cather
62. FROM HERE TO ETERNITY by James Jones
63. THE WAPSHOT CHRONICLES by John Cheever
64. THE CATCHER IN THE RYE by J.D. Salinger*
65. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE by Anthony Burgess
66. OF HUMAN BONDAGE by W. Somerset Maugham
67. HEART OF DARKNESS by Joseph Conrad*
68. MAIN STREET by Sinclair Lewis
69. THE HOUSE OF MIRTH by Edith Wharton
70. THE ALEXANDRIA QUARTET by Lawrence Durell
71. A HIGH WIND IN JAMAICA by Richard Hughes
72. A HOUSE FOR MR BISWAS by V.S. Naipaul
73. THE DAY OF THE LOCUST by Nathanael West
74. A FAREWELL TO ARMS by Ernest Hemingway
75. SCOOP by Evelyn Waugh
76. THE PRIME OF MISS JEAN BRODIE by Muriel Spark
77. FINNEGANS WAKE by James Joyce
78. KIM by Rudyard Kipling
79.A ROOM WITH A VIEW by E.M. Forster
80. BRIDESHEAD REVISITED by Evelyn Waugh
81. THE ADVENTURES OF AUGIE MARCH by Saul Bellow
82. ANGLE OF REPOSE by Wallace Stegner
83. A BEND IN THE RIVER by V.S. Naipaul
84. THE DEATH OF THE HEART by Elizabeth Bowen
85. LORD JIM by Joseph Conrad
86. RAGTIME by E.L. Doctorow
87. THE OLD WIVES' TALE by Arnold Bennett
88. THE CALL OF THE WILD by Jack London
89. LOVING by Henry Green
90. MIDNIGHT'S CHILDREN by Salman Rushdie
91. TOBACCO ROAD by Erskine Caldwell
92. IRONWEED by William Kennedy*
93. THE MAGUS by John Fowles
94. WIDE SARGASSO SEA by Jean Rhys
95. UNDER THE NET by Iris Murdoch
96. SOPHIE'S CHOICE by William Styron
97. THE SHELTERING SKY by Paul Bowles
98. THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE by James M. Cain
99. THE GINGER MAN by J.P. Donleavy
100. THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS by Booth Tarkington

So I realize there's a curse in this so I apologize if it's offensive, but I just find it so funny that I had to share it here:


marriedtothesea.com

more of my own writing...

Naked Video Games

There’s me and you. But you’re with her.
And I’m here pushing another one away.
Cold hands in yours so warm, not mine
not tonight. But once they were. And where
was she the night you held onto me?
But now you and she are there, and I’m here.

So loyal to her yet I am this pull on you.
I should walk away, not wait.
Maybe you would come, with nothing broken,
unlike the breaks in me, she can only bend you.
And then we could be.

We keep scaling mountains.
It’s hard not to get left behind. It’s too cold here
frost bites the flowers, and they die before their time.
Upon re-warming, there is no re-awakening.
The petals unfreeze, fall, forgotten.
I freeze and fall and wait for you.

The peak will be even colder, I am
exposed, except one useless glove
the other lost somewhere; I imagine it still with him.
Wouldn’t keep me. He can keep the glove,
buried in the closet under stuffed bears—
ghosts of relationships past.
I won’t be there to take it back.

I needed gloves with him, the way I don’t with you
But you have travelled into love where I cannot go.
This hurting never hurts any less.
I can get over anything, except
it seems, maybe, you.
So I continue this climb.

You and I should be one, but three will never do.
I cannot say I loved him.
So I won’t let myself love you. But if I did love him,
I can see myself falling into loving you.

If I hang on to you, the something I can’t have
Then there will never be another him,
No pain for me, no more mountain climb.

Grammar

toothpastefordinner.com


This comic sort of reminds me of my current job. Of course I don't write in iambic pentameter. But because writing a decent email is a hard thing to do and people seem to lack the skill. Although I also find it interesting that because it is known that I have various English degrees I am listened to and read more closely so that my language can be picked apart on the off chance I make a mistake. I rarely attack people's usage and grammar, I don't like playing grammar police, and only do so if I've been asked to edit something. But, the more it gets done to me the more I want to do it to other people and honestly, once I started here I might never stop.
And, I work in a library.
This doesn't have anything to do with what I've read, but since it's about writing I think it somehow fits into the overall theme of my blog.
And, if it's not grammatically correct I don't really care.

Valentine's Day

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up a whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life... You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' or 'how very perceptive' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love."


This is a Neil Gaiman quote that I like a lot because it reminds me of someone I like (love) a lot. I also really like Neil Gaiman, American G-ds and Neverwhere are really amazing. He might be considered a sci-fi writer but his work is more fantasy than sci-fi, I don't think I need to explain the difference here, but his books just always take me to these other places that I think I'd like to live in.

Villanelle

A villanelle is a form I tried to write after reading Elizabeth Bishop's amazing, "One Art" mine does not compare to hers, however, I kinda like it.


Had you loved me, you would not have let me fall.
In Eden, Adam slept while Eve was baited.
There was no answer to my call.

Eve’s sin was not small.
She cried out to Adam, but he hesitated.
Had you loved me, you would not have let me fall.

That serpent was up to no good at all.
As the Tempter, he believed that the fall was fated.
There was no answer to my call.

The fruit was so high and she is not tall.
I could not see the harm, Adam stated.
Had you loved me, you would not have let me fall.

The snake seemed weak, moving at a crawl
but the Lord could not be placated,
There was no answer to my call.

Eve lamented, why did you have to stall?
This is the disaster we have created,
had you loved me, you would not have let me fall.
There was no answer to my call.

Movie vs. the book

I saw Pride and Prejudice, the one with Kiera Knightly, a few weeks ago. The novel is one of my favorite books ever. I love all of Jane Austen's novels. But that one especially held my interest and made me want to read it more than once. I think that's a novel many people feel that way about. But it is also the reason I didn't want to see the movie because I thought I would be sad if they ruined the book. However, I really liked the movie, and I figure that's because the novel is just sooo good it would be hard to ruin.
Although, they managed to ruin The Human Stain, which as a novel is easily in my top 3, I couldn't make it through the whole movie. Then again, when I read that novel I didn't really see the need to see it on screen there were so many subtleties that casting must have been hard and that is why it seemed so bad in the end.
I think I might be a book snob. But I think it's ok. And, at least thanks to Pride and Prejudice I can say there is one movie adaptation that I liked. It wasn't better than the book but it was still pretty good.

just finished reading...

I had jury duty recently and decided to use the time to catch up on some reading. I took a nature literature class for my MA, in the fall of 2005, where we read Dawn, by Ocatvia Butler, this is the first novel in her Xenogenesis series. I am normally not that big of a sci-fi fan, however I was fascinated by this novel and intended to finish the trilogy. I came across Adulthood Rites, the second in the trilogy, last summer and did not read it until the late fall. However, I was still fascinated by the world and stories she had created. So I finally decided that jury duty would be a good time to finish the series and read Imago.

I was not disapointed.
The entire trilogy was interesting from start to finish. I am not sure why it took me two years to read.
The series imagines a future, after a catastrophic war, where the human race is saved by aliens that mix their species with humans to create a new, more stable life form. It's a little freaky but really interesting.
I don't want to give anything away so I will stop here. but i'd definitely recommend it.

I thought I'd take a quiz to see if it could tell me what kind of books I like to read- it's kinda accurate, I do like classics much more than the current pop fiction offerings. Here are my results:

You scored as the classics. you love a good classic,and a good tale, you love those timeless books that never grow old, and last from generation to generation. the classics 100% mystery/suspence 75% fairy tale 69% non - fiction/biography 31% horror 6% what kind of books do you like? created with QuizFarm.com

First Post

Since I have an MA in English Literature and plan to work in libraries for a long time, I sometimes feel like all I've ever done is read. So I thought why not write about what I know best?
I titled this blog, "somewhere i have never travelled," after my favorite e. e. cummings poem of the same name. It may well be my favorite poem ever.
I will repost it here in case it's not as well known to other people. Hopefully I'm not breaking any copywrite laws.

"somewhere i have never travelled"
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

For my methodology class for my MA I used this poem to write the semester long paper on different research methods. I analyzed this poem every possible way and researched everything pertaining to it's publication. I thought by the end of the semester I would never want to read it again, but whenever I read it I get the same feeling I got the first time.