Currently, I'm reading Amy Lowell's Selected Poems. I became interested in reading Lowell, an early-20th century imagist, after seeing this poem in an anthology. The poem grabbed me at once, mostly because of its great last line and amazing violence of the language. So until I get my full review of Lowell's book on here, I thought I'd share that poem with you all. Enjoy!
The Taxi, by Amy Lowell
When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why I should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
This Week in Trashy Reads # 11
Trashy Read #11: Supernatural: Heart of the Dragon, by Keith R.A. DeCandido
Warning: This Trashy Read was not a romance, but it's something I feel guilty for reading nonetheless.
TV and movie tie-in novels are supremely weird things. They attempt to add to a pre-existing story without really adding anything at all. They can't add to a plotline or develop character because the book itself exists outside of the original story's "canon." So in the end, they exist in a weird void where you can read them and maybe enjoy them, but they are completely empty. It's like eating empty calories.
A couple months ago, I read another tie-in novel for my favorite terrible TV show, Supernatural. It was absolutely awful. The writing was bad, the copyeditor did a half-assed job, and the plot was ridiculous. So why on earth did I pick up another one?
I picked this book up for the same reason that I devour Supernatural fanfiction so greedily: The show implies that there's a lot going on in the characters' past and present that we don't see, and I can't help but feel a need to fill in the holes. Part of the enjoyment of a really good series (whether it's a TV show or a book series, like Harry Potter) comes from using your imagination to fill in those holes. But occasionally, it's nice to see what other fans are imagining, too. Unfortunately, unlike fanfiction - which by the anonymity of the internet can take huge steps outside canon and create new plotlines, characters, and insights - published books blessed by the show creator cannot do the same. Which makes for some pretty unexciting reading.
So this book was hardly a work of great literature. But it was waaaay better than the last Supernatural book I read. I won't bore you with the plot. If you don't watch Supernatural (and really, why would you?), you won't understand what I'm talking about anyway. The book did attempt something new, though, by adding storylines that included the main characters' family members in the past (people whose histories we only get glimpses of in the show). I admired that aspect of the book.
In the end, I enjoyed the book well enough to finish it (admittedly, part of this is due to my desire to imagine the goodlooking leads doing anything, even just walking across a room...). But was it a good read? Heck no. It was a lot like drinking Diet Coke - getting only a taste of something I like better in its original form.
Warning: This Trashy Read was not a romance, but it's something I feel guilty for reading nonetheless.
TV and movie tie-in novels are supremely weird things. They attempt to add to a pre-existing story without really adding anything at all. They can't add to a plotline or develop character because the book itself exists outside of the original story's "canon." So in the end, they exist in a weird void where you can read them and maybe enjoy them, but they are completely empty. It's like eating empty calories.
A couple months ago, I read another tie-in novel for my favorite terrible TV show, Supernatural. It was absolutely awful. The writing was bad, the copyeditor did a half-assed job, and the plot was ridiculous. So why on earth did I pick up another one?
I picked this book up for the same reason that I devour Supernatural fanfiction so greedily: The show implies that there's a lot going on in the characters' past and present that we don't see, and I can't help but feel a need to fill in the holes. Part of the enjoyment of a really good series (whether it's a TV show or a book series, like Harry Potter) comes from using your imagination to fill in those holes. But occasionally, it's nice to see what other fans are imagining, too. Unfortunately, unlike fanfiction - which by the anonymity of the internet can take huge steps outside canon and create new plotlines, characters, and insights - published books blessed by the show creator cannot do the same. Which makes for some pretty unexciting reading.
So this book was hardly a work of great literature. But it was waaaay better than the last Supernatural book I read. I won't bore you with the plot. If you don't watch Supernatural (and really, why would you?), you won't understand what I'm talking about anyway. The book did attempt something new, though, by adding storylines that included the main characters' family members in the past (people whose histories we only get glimpses of in the show). I admired that aspect of the book.
In the end, I enjoyed the book well enough to finish it (admittedly, part of this is due to my desire to imagine the goodlooking leads doing anything, even just walking across a room...). But was it a good read? Heck no. It was a lot like drinking Diet Coke - getting only a taste of something I like better in its original form.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Poem of the Week: "Fabliau of Florida," by Wallace Stevens
Today was a bit panic-inducing. When I went to log onto this blog earlier, Google showed that it had been deleted. Apparently, my entire Google account had been compromised (which is why some of you may have gotten spam from my email address...sorry), but once I got the situation taken care of, my blog was right where I left it. I can't even tell you how scared I was that this blog had disappeared. It's been my touchstone in this not-so-wonderful year, and losing it would have really devastated me.
So, to make a long story short, I wasn't much in the mood to go poem-hunting today. But, remembering my faithful readers, I grabbed my Wallace Stevens collection and decided to find something. I opened it right to this poem, which I think is appropriate for this time of year and the wrap-up of summer vacations and laziness. It's short and simple, but like all of Stevens's poems, it shows an inventiveness no other writer can copy (plus, how cool is the phrase "sultry moon-monsters"?!). Enjoy!
Fabliau of Florida, by Wallace Stevens
Barque of phosphor
On the palmy beach,
Move outward into heaven,
Into the alabasters
And night blues.
Foam and cloud are one.
Sultry moon-monsters
Are dissolving.
Fill your black hull
With white moonlight.
There will never be an end
To this droning of the surf.
So, to make a long story short, I wasn't much in the mood to go poem-hunting today. But, remembering my faithful readers, I grabbed my Wallace Stevens collection and decided to find something. I opened it right to this poem, which I think is appropriate for this time of year and the wrap-up of summer vacations and laziness. It's short and simple, but like all of Stevens's poems, it shows an inventiveness no other writer can copy (plus, how cool is the phrase "sultry moon-monsters"?!). Enjoy!
Fabliau of Florida, by Wallace Stevens
Barque of phosphor
On the palmy beach,
Move outward into heaven,
Into the alabasters
And night blues.
Foam and cloud are one.
Sultry moon-monsters
Are dissolving.
Fill your black hull
With white moonlight.
There will never be an end
To this droning of the surf.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Spooked
Book Reviewed: Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife, by Mary Roach
Lately, I've been craving good nonfiction reads. I don't know why, but I've gotten a little bored with novels this summer, so I've been putting a fair amount of nonfiction and poetry on my "To Read" list. When the well-loved science writer Mary Roach published her latest book last week, I decided I'd start with her. Roach is famous for funny, easygoing books on specific topics. Her first book, Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, was a huge success, and she's followed it up with looks at ghosts, sex research, and space exploration.
I decided to go with the topic that was sure to most interest me: the ghosts. Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife was available at my library, so I reserved a copy and read it all in just a couple days. I had some mixed reactions to the book, but it sure did make for an interesting weekend. Each chapter stands alone, as Roach (in a funny and unaffected first-person voice) looks into different subjects related to the human soul and its possible existence after death. There are chapters in here about reincarnation, hallucinations caused by electromagnetic fields, and the research of near-death experiences. Through them all, Roach takes a warm view towards the people she meets and stories she finds. Ultimately, despite claims that she's just observing, she comes off as a little too skeptical all the time. I certainly can't claim to believe in ghosts (although I don't not believe in them either, I guess), but it would have been a little cooler to see her just relax sometimes.
Overall though, the book was very enjoyable. For some reason, well-researched, first-person nonfiction books like this read ridiculously easy for me. The student in me just loves to sit there and take it all in. That's why this book took very little time to read. I especially liked the fifth chapter, "Hard to Swallow: The giddy, revolting heyday of ectoplasm," which really lived up to its title. I was equally disgusted and intrigued by the subject, which is much more bizarre and yucky than I imagined. There are so many great anecdotes about the weirdness of scientists and parapsychologists and paranormal researches in here. Even at its most scientifically dry, the book is still a lot of fun. I will definitely be checking out more of Roach's stuff.
Other Books I Attempted This Last Week: I started a trashy romance, Elizabeth Hoyt's To Beguile a Beast, which went flat pretty quickly. I stopped halfway through. Also, I quickly abandoned a book I had really wanted to read: the new novel One Day, by David Nicholls. For some reason, I just couldn't get into it.
Lately, I've been craving good nonfiction reads. I don't know why, but I've gotten a little bored with novels this summer, so I've been putting a fair amount of nonfiction and poetry on my "To Read" list. When the well-loved science writer Mary Roach published her latest book last week, I decided I'd start with her. Roach is famous for funny, easygoing books on specific topics. Her first book, Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, was a huge success, and she's followed it up with looks at ghosts, sex research, and space exploration.
I decided to go with the topic that was sure to most interest me: the ghosts. Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife was available at my library, so I reserved a copy and read it all in just a couple days. I had some mixed reactions to the book, but it sure did make for an interesting weekend. Each chapter stands alone, as Roach (in a funny and unaffected first-person voice) looks into different subjects related to the human soul and its possible existence after death. There are chapters in here about reincarnation, hallucinations caused by electromagnetic fields, and the research of near-death experiences. Through them all, Roach takes a warm view towards the people she meets and stories she finds. Ultimately, despite claims that she's just observing, she comes off as a little too skeptical all the time. I certainly can't claim to believe in ghosts (although I don't not believe in them either, I guess), but it would have been a little cooler to see her just relax sometimes.
Overall though, the book was very enjoyable. For some reason, well-researched, first-person nonfiction books like this read ridiculously easy for me. The student in me just loves to sit there and take it all in. That's why this book took very little time to read. I especially liked the fifth chapter, "Hard to Swallow: The giddy, revolting heyday of ectoplasm," which really lived up to its title. I was equally disgusted and intrigued by the subject, which is much more bizarre and yucky than I imagined. There are so many great anecdotes about the weirdness of scientists and parapsychologists and paranormal researches in here. Even at its most scientifically dry, the book is still a lot of fun. I will definitely be checking out more of Roach's stuff.
Other Books I Attempted This Last Week: I started a trashy romance, Elizabeth Hoyt's To Beguile a Beast, which went flat pretty quickly. I stopped halfway through. Also, I quickly abandoned a book I had really wanted to read: the new novel One Day, by David Nicholls. For some reason, I just couldn't get into it.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Reading Jane Austen Makes Me Want To Throw My Romance Novels Out the Window
I love my trashy romance novels. They bring me so much joy with such little time or thinking involved. But you know what I love even more? Captain Wentworth writing poignant love letters to Anne Elliot.
You might recall how much I loved Persuasion when I read it for the first time last year. Well, I just reread the book again for a special project for a special friend, and I loved it just as much this time around. Suddenly, all my romance books just seem so darn stupid in comparison. The pain found in the past between Anne and Captain Wentworth is waaaay more acute than any trashy plot, and the happy ending so much more satisfying than the one in your usual romance. So I have to say: rereading Persuasion has made me swear off trashy romances for the rest of the month. We'll see if that actually happens...
Anyway, once again: Read Persuasion! Captain Wentworth is as dreamy as any romance hero ever written. Trust me.
You might recall how much I loved Persuasion when I read it for the first time last year. Well, I just reread the book again for a special project for a special friend, and I loved it just as much this time around. Suddenly, all my romance books just seem so darn stupid in comparison. The pain found in the past between Anne and Captain Wentworth is waaaay more acute than any trashy plot, and the happy ending so much more satisfying than the one in your usual romance. So I have to say: rereading Persuasion has made me swear off trashy romances for the rest of the month. We'll see if that actually happens...
Anyway, once again: Read Persuasion! Captain Wentworth is as dreamy as any romance hero ever written. Trust me.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
I Like This
I saw this little piece on NPR's website today and quite liked it. I've been a closet John Irving fan for this very reason, I'm afraid. Well no more! You heard it here: I love John Irving! A Prayer for Owen Meany is one of my favorite novels!
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129235528
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129235528
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Poem of the Week: "New Religion," by Bill Holm
I found this poem on the oh-so wonderful Writer's Almanac on Wednesday and quite liked it. It's a quiet little poem about an awfully big subject, and I love the idea it presents. I've always been more fond of water than air as an element (hence why I harshly judge the decision of Ariel in Disney's Little Mermaid), so the idea of heaven being underwater would be fantastic in my opinion. Enjoy!
New Religion, by Bill Holm
This morning no sound but the loud
breathing of the sea. Suppose that under
all that salt water lived the god
that humans have spent ten thousand years
trawling the heavens for.
We caught the wrong metaphor.
Real space is wet and underneath,
the church of shark and whale and cod.
The noise of those vast lungs
exhaling: the plain chanting of monkfish choirs.
Heaven's not up but down, and hell
is to evaporate in air. Salvation,
to drown and breathe
forever with the sea.
New Religion, by Bill Holm
This morning no sound but the loud
breathing of the sea. Suppose that under
all that salt water lived the god
that humans have spent ten thousand years
trawling the heavens for.
We caught the wrong metaphor.
Real space is wet and underneath,
the church of shark and whale and cod.
The noise of those vast lungs
exhaling: the plain chanting of monkfish choirs.
Heaven's not up but down, and hell
is to evaporate in air. Salvation,
to drown and breathe
forever with the sea.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)