Skip to main content

Literature List


Books
Originally uploaded by bethaf.
I have so many books*. I've been wondering how expensive it will be to ship them all back to Ontario. But I can't part ways with them. I just CAN'T. Well, maybe one or two. But not enough to make a significant weight change.



Anyway, I have a bunch of books set aside for next week's vacation. They are:
  • A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth (I'm finally halfway through this monster. Gotta finish it by the end of the month as it's not mine!)
  • Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals - Immanuel Kant (this has also been partially read for months & must be returned before I move away)
  • The Writing Life - Annie Dillard (a birthday gift from Laura, I've been saving it for some specific time...I think this time.)

And three anthologies of poetry. One by e. e. cummings, one by WCW (William Carlos Williams) and one by Emily Dickinson. All fantastic poets whose styles are reflected in my own writing, I think. And if I want to write good poetry, I should probably be reading good poetry.

The plan is to do all this reading, interspersed with some writing. We'll see if the shores of Cuba allow for creative inspiration, or if the luxury of a resort chokes my creative juices...


*the books in this photo do not belong to me. But someday I will own rows of classics like this.

Comments

  1. Please don't part with too many of your books in Vancouver. I have plans to borrow/steal/read them once they reach Ontario.

    P.S. I eagerly await your review of The Writing Life. I've heard good things.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous1:29 AM

    dibs on your books!

    ReplyDelete
  3. nadine - never fear, the vast majority are coming with!

    amelia - you can have dibs on all the rejects :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God  is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly  the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit  object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists: Love of neighbor  Love of the beauty of the world  Love of religious practices  and a special sidebar to Friendship “Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these thin

I Like to Keep My Issues Drawn

It's Sunday night and I am multi-tasking. Paid some bills, catching up on free musical downloads from the past month, thinking about the mix-tape I need to make and planning my last assignment for writing class. Shortly, I will abandon the laptop to write my first draft by hand. But until then, I am thinking about music. This song played for me earlier this afternoon, as I attempted to nap. I woke up somewhere between 5 and 5:30 this morning, then lay in bed until 8 o'clock flipping sides and thinking about every part of my life that exists. It wasn't stressful, but it wasn't quite restful either...This past month, I have spent a lot of time rebuffing lies and refusing to believe that the inside of my heart and mind can never change. I feel like Florence + The Machine 's song "Shake it Out" captures many of these feelings & thoughts. (addendum: is the line "I like to keep my issues strong or drawn ?" Lyrics sites have it as "stro

Esse - Czeslaw Milosz

I'm on a bit of a poetry binge this week, and Monday afternoon found me lying on the luxurious shag rug of a friend's tiny apartment, re-reading some of my favourite poets (ee cummings, William Carlos Williams, Czeslaw Milosz). It is an adventure to re-open a collection and wonder what will pop out, knowing something you've read before will strike you afresh, or you will be reminded of a particularly moving line that you had somehow forgotten. Like this piece from Milosz, which floors me. Every. damn.* time. The first time I read it, I lay in a park with a friend (this same friend who offered me her rug as my reading burrow) and demanded that I share it with her. I spoke it carefully, and then, into the post-reading silence, I slammed the book shut, and dropped it as loudly as I could onto the grass. "I'm never reading anything again," I declared, "What else is there to say?" Esse I looked at that face, dumbfounded. The lights of métro st