'the souls of horses mirror the souls of men more closely than men suppose...no creature can learn that which his heart has no shape to hold.''all the disturbances of the city continued outside our window, but we felt isolated and safe, as if the street were a river, and our room a raft...these small shared pleasures were, and remain, no less moving, or beautiful, or real for being so precarious.
a life whose search for meaning lies not ina faith in the past, or in after-life...
to reconcile their own habits of pleasure with the violence of the world.'
--Adam Gopnik, preface to A London Child of the 1870's.
the painted hour crumbles like chalk. the light, since the first day, has accumulated in my mind; the tree outside the window, strong and full, like the old days in Wales. return, again and again. the hand not so sure, but the heart still true.
4 comments:
So, my scepticism vindicated!
That was a short silence, b. What happened?
lol :-)
yes, dear C, more than vindicated!
:-)
dunno, a trip to Charing cross road (even though Border's is no more) always makes me a bit nostalgic. Some days I would spend 5 or 6 hours floating between Foyles, blackwells, Borders, and then Waterstones on Gower street, making notes from the books I read there. It was like having my own (very large) library! So, on my last days here i always feel, as a kind of ritual, that I must find some words chosen from a book at random (this time it was Don Paterson when in truth i was looking for some R. Duncan), jot them down, and then head off the same path down back to lse where i meet my old friends at the wright's bar.
Plus, I'm not really one for keeping silent any more. A last visit to see some art before I go back (had to see Poussin's 'dance to the music of time' ) which was just the treat. Really must try and pick Anthony Blunt's book up.
khair...
enough of me. you didn't tell me about the six hour lecture? or , indeed, what you were going to tell me at euston!
Take care,
b.
'When we two parted....' (fortunately not in silence and in tears) I tried to give you The Libraries of thought and Imagination, an Anthology of Books and Bookshelves, a book which was surely written for you and which I insist you must have. I shall send it.
Euston? Oh, yes. What DID I mean to say? Forget now. Actually, it was probably 'Please could you carry Alice's violin?'
Just read Marilynne Robinsons book: Home. Have you read that one? I found it more deeply disturbing than Housekeping.
Tell you about the 6-hours later - a Workshop, not a lecture, thank G.
But am lecturing at B'ham NEC on Friday: Quilts from the Alhambra!
Bon voyage!
C
c, hello!
violins I can do. Cellos: not so good!
:-)
No, haven't read and don't think i will. everyone else has, though (the swami and the dougal). It sounds, well, I don't know, too yucky. If it's about plain ol' goodness. Nope. can't do.
why is it disturbing ?
Will you be posting about the quilts? do you have a particular favourite style?
gotta run. Miles and miles behind schedule. Well, okay, you know me. I'll probably just walk!
take care,
b.
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