I have a new picture of my daughters and the boy at the wedding on my desk at work. (The bell is a nice touch on my desk–it gives it just the right school-marmish tone I think, don’t you?)
I have a new picture of my sibs on a dresser.
As you can see, I like family pictures on my dresser.
Meanwhile daughter #2 prepares to move to Maryland.
She has a long way to go.
One week to go! Happy Friday!
I was casting about recently, as I am wont to do, trying to find something to read. I have plenty of books at home and usually can come up with something rather easily. And I did.
I started re-reading Civil to Strangers by Barbara Pym, which I had read back in the 1980s when I went through a Pym period. She had recently been re-discovered by the English-speaking world after the biographer David Cecil and the poet Philip Larkin both nominated her as the most underrated writer of the century.
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed my re-introduction to Pym.
Her books are very English, full of very English characters.
‘I suppose every author gets stuck occasionally,’ said Mrs. Gower.
‘The inspiration flows less easily,’ interposed Mrs. Wilmot, thinking that it was a more suitable phrase.
Cassandra smiled at both of them. ‘That’s just it,’ she said, making each woman feel that she had said exactly the right thing. ‘It’s so nice of you to ask after Adam’s book,’ she said, turning to Janie. ‘People are so kind,’ she added vaguely, almost as if her husband were an invalid who needed sympathetic enquiries.
I’m sure you know what I mean. Alexander McCall Smith even likens her to Jane Austen: “Like Jane Austen, Pym painted her pictures on a small square of ivory, and covered much the same territory as did her better-known predecessor: the details of smallish lives led to places that could only be in England. Neither used a megaphone; neither said much about the great issues of their time.”
So I have ordered Excellent Women, her most well-known novel, from Amazon and am eagerly awaiting its arrival.
‘I wonder, when you are working here, have you ever given a thought to all those who have died in Bodley’s Library, or as a result of working there?’
Adam was forced to admit that he had not.
‘You should, you know, it is quite an education.’
‘It would surely do one more good to concentrate on one’s work,’ said Adam austerely.
‘That is my work,’ said the clergyman simply. ’I am writing a thesis on that subject for the degree of Bachelor of Letters.’
Adam said nothing, but looked at him in some surprise.
‘Since my wife died,’ said the clergyman, ‘I have thought much of death. And your wife?’ He looked suddenly at Adam. ’You have a wife?’
‘She is not with me here,’ said Adam, hypnotised by the old man.
‘No, she is not with you here. But,’ his voice rose, ‘you must believe that you will meet again, that she will be waiting for you, in that other life, perhaps?’
‘She is in Budapest,’ said Adam shortly.
‘Oh, well, that’s another pair of shoes, isn’t it?’ said the clergyman surprisingly.
— Civil to Strangers
So if you are casting about for something to read, and the thought of the London Olympics ending makes you sad, I suggest you try Barbara Pym. You’ll be glad you did.
Our movie pick as the end of the 2012 Olympics approaches is kind of a no-brainer and we have blogged about it already here, but we do love this movie! Chariots of Fire is a 1981 British film, which tells the fact-based story of two athletes in the 1924 Olympics: Eric Liddell, a devout Scottish Christian who runs for the glory of God,
and Harold Abrahams, a determined British Jew who runs to prove he’s as good as (if not better than) anyone else.
Harold does have an enormous chip on his shoulder in the movie, and whether this was the case in “real life” we don’t know. The fact is he ran the 100m race in 10.6, a mere second slower than the great Usain Bolt did a few days ago, eighty-eight years after Abrahams. I say, hats off to Abrahams and Liddell in their old-fashioned shoes and baggy shorts!
The film was written by Colin Welland and directed by Hugh Hudson, and was nominated for seven Academy Awards, winning four, including Best Picture. It is ranked 19th in the British Film Institute’s list of Top 100 British films.
I loved this movie when it was first released in 1981 and saw it 3 times in the theater, before the days of VHS and DVDs made that kind of desperate action unnecessary.
The film’s title was of course inspired by the line, “Bring me my chariot of fire,” from the William Blake poem adapted into the popular British hymn. “Jerusalem” was a popular hymn at our private school, where we sang it often in our morning chapel service. Here is a snippet of the hymn to get you in the mood:
The original phrase “chariot(s) of fire” is from 2 Kings 2:11 and 6:17.
Yes, I have been watching the Olympics–what else would I do in the quadrennial summer of 2012? And it hasn’t been easy, considering that here in our flyover state we are bombarded relentlessly by repetitive and snarky political ads during the Olympic coverage. Aye carumba.
Furthermore, I must admit, I have not been impressed with NBC. (Don’t get me started on Bob Costas.) And I hate all the purple and magenta. I guess William and Kate the Great and the U.S. swimming team and Misty May Treanor make up for all this. And this little lady:
Go, Gabby!
Thanks again to Naeem Callaway for the visual message.
The honeymooners are back home. They had a great time in South Carolina. The boy even found a cannon.
How sweet it is.
Last Sunday daughter #1 and I went to the Choral Evensong service at my church Grace Episcopal. This service was the culmination of the Royal School of Church Music summer camp and the music was all performed by the children who attended the camp. The boy went to this for several years and was a proctor there once or twice as well. It was a lovely service and the large choir of young voices was a treat to hear.
This was my favorite song–“I’m Going Up Yonder” by Walter Hawkins. Although I love the traditional Anglican chants et al, this was a wonderful selection. And I admit–I had to get the Kleenex out. Turn up the volume and listen to the whole thing. (And thank you to whoever posted this on Youtube.)
If anybody asks you
Where I’m going
Where I’m going soon
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
To be with my Lord
If can take the pain
The heartache that it brings
There’s comfort that in knowing
I’ll soon be home
If God gives me grace
I’ll run this race
And soon I’ll see my Savior
Face to face
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
I’m goin’ up yonder
To be with my Lord
If anybody asks you
Where I’m going
Where I’m going soon
Goin’ home
Have a great weekend and thanks to Naeem Callaway for today’s spiritual message.
P.S. The title quote yesterday (if anyone was wondering) was from A Thousand Clowns (1965), which is a favorite movie of mine. Herb Gardner adapted his own play for the movie and it is, therefore, very loyal to the original play. It isn’t quite as funny as I remembered from when I saw it on TV as a teenager, but it is plenty funny, especially by today’s pathetic comedy standards. Who can forget:
Nick: “My simple child reaction of what you did is that you are not funny. Funnier than you is even Stuart Schlossman, who is my friend, and is eleven, and puts walnuts in his mouth and makes noises. What is not funny is to call us names, and what is mostly not funny is how sad you are, and I’d feel sorry for you if it wasn’t for how dull you are. And those are the worst-tasting potato chips that I’ve ever tasted. And that’s my opinion from the blue, blue sky.”
and
Murray Burns: “Better go to your room.”
Nick: “This is a one-room apartment.”
Murray Burns: “OK, then go to your alcove.”
Anyway, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to watch it tonight if you need a break from the Olympics. And that’s my opinion from the blue, blue sky.
My husband tells me that yesterday was the 100th birthday of the Eagle Scout Award and that I might want to blog about that.
The Wall Street Journal reports that “One hundred years ago on Aug. 1, Arthur Eldred, a 17-year-old Boy Scout from Long Island, became the first person to earn the Eagle Scout rank.” Here is the rest of the article to read at your leisure.
Well, the boy is an Eagle Scout and I have always been very proud of that.
It was a long, hard road of Boy Scout activities.
He went to multiple camps and earned multiple badges. He rose through the ranks. He demonstrated Scout spirit. He planned, developed and led a service project.
In the fall of 2004 he joined 38th President Gerald Ford, Steven Spielberg, L. Ron Hubbard and Sam Walton, earning the BSA’s highest award, becoming an Eagle Scout.
He never let me put one of those bumper stickers on my Subaru, but I wanted to. Boy did I ever.
Anyway, hats off to the Eagle Scouts of America!
Herman Melville (August 1, 1819 – September 28, 1891) was an American novelist, short story writer, essayist, and poet. He is best known, of course, for his novel Moby-Dick.
“He’s a queer man, Captain Ahab–so some think–but a good one. Oh, thou’lt like him well enough; no fear, no fear. He’s a grand, ungodly, god-like man, Captain Ahab; doesn’t speak much; but, when he does speak, then you may well listen. Mark ye, be forewarned; Ahab’s above the common; Ahab’s been in colleges, as well as ‘mong the cannibals; been used to deeper wonders than waves; fixed his fiery lance in mightier, stranger foes than whales. His lance! aye, the keener and the surest that, out of all our isle! Oh! he ain’t Captain Bildad; no, and he ain’t Captain Peleg; he’s Ahab, boy; and Ahab of old, thou knowest, was a crowned king!”
Ready now? Moby-Dick makes great summer reading!
dual personalities 