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"Why, look at the lines on this map! Lines on this map go places! And lines that are not on this map don't go to these places. Extremely tall men of Scandinavian heritage believe that the opposite of sitting is not standing, but they see more lines than any other people could say otherwise."

Charles, I'm hardly going to engage in a discussion with you about literature. You aren't equipped. You don't discuss to exchange ideas: you discuss to elevate your own view of yourself, and be the lord of a group of writers in progress whose intellect far surpasses your own. If you haven't even begun to understand humanity, how can you possibly expect to assess its literature?

To be quite frank, I find you to be an angry, bigoted individual grasping violently at literary "rules" without understanding an iota of what you read. Yes, there are sets of rules and laws that the self-conscious lay out to "prove" their tastes are measurable. These are useful to a point, but art touches the soul. How or why moves with one's perspective, which is why honest discussions about literature are so potentially rich.

You don't seem to be capable of an honest exchange of ideas. You are capable of stubborn pronouncements and foul remarks more appropriate to a stable than a circle of intelligent writers.

It's a real shame. I was on the edge of my seat to find out what unpoetic poetry without meaning means for theme. Or whatever in the world it is you've got down next on your "THESE ARE THE UNALTERABLE RULES OF LITERATURE" syllabus of tedious close-mindedness.

It's the opening to one of my favorite novels: Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.

"Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.

Now, women forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.

So the beginning of this was a woman and she had come back from burying the dead. Not the dead of sick and ailing with friends at the pillow and the feet. She had come back from the sodden and the bloated; the sudden dead, their eyes flung wide open in judgment.

The people all saw her come because it was sundown. The sun was gone, but he had left his footprints in the sky. It was the time for sitting on porches beside the road. It was the time to hear things and talk. These sitters had been tongueless, earless, eyeless conveniences all day long. Mules and other brutes had occupied their skins. But now, the sun and the bossman were gone, so the skins felt powerful and human. They became lords of sounds and lesser things. They passed nations through their mouths. They sat in judgment.

Seeing the woman as she was made them remember the envy they had stored up from other times. So they chewed up the back parts of their minds and swallowed with relish. They made burning statements with questions, and killing tools out of laughs. It was mass cruelty. A mood come alive. Words walking without masters; walking altogether like harmony in a song."

Anglerfish

I really look forward to it, Bunny. I'll have to tell you what I think, one day when I have the time for this sort of immersion. Sula is still with me, so I feel sure I'll appreciate Beloved. It's definitely on my list.

Right now I'm fully immersed in L.M. Montgomery. I just finished my reread of Anne of Green Gables. I have several books going at once (biographies, academic criticism) -- I'm not sure I'll have time to read them all by the time my project is due, so I'm trying to prioritize. My favorite is DEFINITELY her journals (which she intended for publication, so the voyeurism is less pronounced.)

SHE IS SO REAL. I love the day-to-day log of her struggles and emotions and ideas. I LOVE being there in the very detail of 1914 (which is where I am right now.)

I've also begun a reread of Vera Brittain's Testament of Youth. Memoirs, journals... that seems to be my thing. Maybe it's a phase.

chin up!

Someone recommended Maus to me too!

I was asking about Life After Life because I see A God in Ruins is a sequel (or a parallel story), it looks like? I tried to read Life After Life. I thought the idea of the story was really interesting. I only made it a few pages though, because it takes a scene, then repeats it with a slight change, then repeats it with a slight change, then repeats it with a slight change. That became tedious (to me) very quickly. I dreaded a whole book like that. I was just wondering if you'd liked it, and surpassed that wall.

Okay, now I'm also reading Lucy Maud Montgomery's journal from 1910-1921, because I love reading journals by women in history, because Lucy Maud is my kindred spirit, and because I have to for a research project.

I'm rereading Anne of Green Gables. One of my favorites.

Here's the trailer for the latest adaptation...

https://youtu.be/ifhsay56Fwc

♥

Sending every good thought, F. You and yours have been strongly on my mind today.

(I think a cryptic flippant post can only be improved by Latin.) xox