Poetry Monday

Robert Frost....good stuff.

Fire and Ice



Some say the world will end in fire,


Some say in ice.


From what I've tasted of desire


I hold with those who favor fire.


But if it had to perish twice,


I think I know enough of hate


To say that for destruction ice


Is also great


And would suffice.

The Party Blonde and Other Social Stereotypes from the "Telegraph Magazine" by Victoria Mather, Sue Macartney-Snape

This was a fun, snarky look at some of the stereotypes you may encounter in British society. The thing is, you'll encounter them here in the States too! This book is just one in a series, and I look forward to reading the rest.

Airmail- Naomi Bulger

From Goodreads:
Reclusive old Mr. G.L. Solomon's favorite things are single malt whiskey, Steve McQueen movies, and gingersnap cookies. He hates processed cheese, washing detergent commercials, and the way the teacup rattles in the saucer when he picks it up. Solomon has become accustomed to his lonely routine in Sydney, Australia-until the day he begins sporadically receiving letters in his mailbox from a complete stranger.


On the other side of the world, Anouk is a mentally delicate young woman living in New York who insists she is being stalked by a fat woman in a pink tracksuit. When Anouk declares to Solomon that she is writing "from the Other Side," the old man breaks away from his daily grind of watching soap operas and reading Fishing World and travels to New York to find her. As he is drawn into Anouk's surreal world of stalkers and storytelling, marbles and cats, purgatory and Plato, Solomon has but one goal-to unravel the mystery before it is too late.




My take:
It's a short little book. I read it twice, hoping to pick up what I thought I had clearly missed on the first read. After the second read, I came to the conclusion that I either am too dumb to follow the author's disjointed narrative and odd metahporical imagery or the book just didn't make any sense. I'm choosing to believe the latter.




After I posted the above review on Goodreads, I received a very nice note from the author thanking me for reading her book and for giving my honest opinion, even though she was sorry I didn't like it. I tried reading it one more time and still couldn't quite get it, but I am looking forward to seeing what Ms Bulger writes next. She DOES show promise as an author, and hopefully I'll do better with her next book!

Poetry Monday

Edgar Allan Poe? Sure, why not?!?

A Dream Within A Dream



Take this kiss upon the brow!


And, in parting from you now,


Thus much let me avow-


You are not wrong, who deem


That my days have been a dream;


Yet if hope has flown away


In a night, or in a day,


In a vision, or in none,


Is it therefore the less gone?


All that we see or seem


Is but a dream within a dream.






I stand amid the roar


Of a surf-tormented shore,


And I hold within my hand


Grains of the golden sand-


How few! yet how they creep


Through my fingers to the deep,


While I weep- while I weep!


O God! can I not grasp


Them with a tighter clasp?


O God! can I not save


One from the pitiless wave?


Is all that we see or seem


But a dream within a dream?

Watch Your Head- Cory Thomas

Watch Your Head by Cory Thomas


My rating: 3 of 5 stars


fairly amusing look at a boy embarking on his college life. takes shots at professors, campus dating, and the pitfalls of the roommate lottery. (how DO schools match roommates up anyway? Lord knows I had nothing in common with my first roomies...)








View all my reviews

Malled by Caitlin Kelly

This was a VERY accurate look at what it's like to work in retail. Unless you've done it, you have no idea how physically and emotionally draining retail jobs can be. Most corporate stores are only interested in the bottom line and expect employees to work miracles with little to no training, assistance, or incentive. Customers don't ususally stop to think about the feelings of those on the other side of the counter, or make impossible demands that cannot be filled. I did it for way too many years and honestly don't miss it a bit- especially Wal-Mart at Christmas time!

Poetry Monday

Today we have Roald Dahl. Enjoy!

Television



The most important thing we've learned,


So far as children are concerned,


Is never, NEVER, NEVER let


Them near your television set --


Or better still, just don't install


The idiotic thing at all.


In almost every house we've been,


We've watched them gaping at the screen.


They loll and slop and lounge about,


And stare until their eyes pop out.


(Last week in someone's place we saw


A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)


They sit and stare and stare and sit


Until they're hypnotised by it,


Until they're absolutely drunk


With all that shocking ghastly junk.


Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,


They don't climb out the window sill,


They never fight or kick or punch,


They leave you free to cook the lunch


And wash the dishes in the sink --


But did you ever stop to think,


To wonder just exactly what


This does to your beloved tot?


IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!


IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!


IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!


IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND


HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND


A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!


HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!


HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!


HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!


'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,


'But if we take the set away,


What shall we do to entertain


Our darling children? Please explain!'


We'll answer this by asking you,


'What used the darling ones to do?


'How used they keep themselves contented


Before this monster was invented?'


Have you forgotten? Don't you know?


We'll say it very loud and slow:


THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,


AND READ and READ, and then proceed


To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!


One half their lives was reading books!


The nursery shelves held books galore!


Books cluttered up the nursery floor!


And in the bedroom, by the bed,


More books were waiting to be read!


Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales


Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales


And treasure isles, and distant shores


Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,


And pirates wearing purple pants,


And sailing ships and elephants,


And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,


Stirring away at something hot.


(It smells so good, what can it be?


Good gracious, it's Penelope.)


The younger ones had Beatrix Potter


With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,


And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,


And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-


Just How The Camel Got His Hump,


And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,


And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,


There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-


Oh, books, what books they used to know,


Those children living long ago!


So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,


Go throw your TV set away,


And in its place you can install


A lovely bookshelf on the wall.


Then fill the shelves with lots of books,


Ignoring all the dirty looks,


The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,


And children hitting you with sticks-


Fear not, because we promise you


That, in about a week or two


Of having nothing else to do,


They'll now begin to feel the need


Of having something to read.


And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!


You watch the slowly growing joy


That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen


They'll wonder what they'd ever seen


In that ridiculous machine,


That nauseating, foul, unclean,


Repulsive television screen!


And later, each and every kid


Will love you more for what you did.

Poetry Monday

Oops, missed a week there, didn't I? Oh, well, I'm back now, and this week we have Pablo Neruda
If You Forget Me



I want you to know


one thing.






You know how this is:


if I look


at the crystal moon, at the red branch


of the slow autumn at my window,


if I touch


near the fire


the impalpable ash


or the wrinkled body of the log,


everything carries me to you,


as if everything that exists,


aromas, light, metals,


were little boats


that sail


toward those isles of yours that wait for me.






Well, now,


if little by little you stop loving me


I shall stop loving you little by little.






If suddenly


you forget me


do not look for me,


for I shall already have forgotten you.






If you think it long and mad,


the wind of banners


that passes through my life,


and you decide


to leave me at the shore


of the heart where I have roots,


remember


that on that day,


at that hour,


I shall lift my arms


and my roots will set off


to seek another land.






But


if each day,


each hour,


you feel that you are destined for me


with implacable sweetness,


if each day a flower


climbs up to your lips to seek me,


ah my love, ah my own,


in me all that fire is repeated,


in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,


my love feeds on your love, beloved,


and as long as you live it will be in your arms


without leaving mine.

Yarn Harlot- Stephanie Pearl-McPhee

This book made me laugh out loud. Change the subject to Cross Stitching, and I could have written it myself. The mentions of people not understanding the fascination, building/keeping your stash, unfinished projects, overestimating how many projects you can do in a limited amount of time- all are familiar to any type of crafter.

From Goodreads: Over 50 million people in America knit. The average knitter spends between $500 and $1,700 a year on yarn, patterns, needles, and books. No longer just a fad or a hobby, knitting has advanced to a lifestyle.  (now ask me how much I've spent on cross-stitch stuff already this year. On second thought, don't. It's scary.)

The Lost Art of Reading: Why Books Are So Important in a Distracted Time by David L. Ulin

From Goodreads:
Reading is a revolutionary act, an act of engagement in a culture that wants us to disengage. In The Lost Art of Reading, David L. Ulin asks a number of timely questions — why is literature important? What does it offer, especially now? Blending commentary with memoir, Ulin addresses the importance of the simple act of reading in an increasingly digital culture. Reading a book, flipping through hard pages, or shuffling them on screen — it doesn’t matter. The key is the act of reading, the seriousness and depth. Ulin emphasizes the importance of reflection and pause allowed by stopping to read a book, and the focus required to let the mind run free in a world that is not one's own. Far from preaching to the choir, The Lost Art of Reading is a call to arms, or rather, pages.




My take:
I really wanted to like this book more than I did. It's a fairly small volume and it had a promising beginning, but devolved into a rather dry (to me) series of quotes and passages from the works of other authors that did nothing to tell me why THIS author was feeling that reading is becoming a lost art.