dual personalities

Tag: quotes

Everything was blazing

by chuckofish

Bob_Dylan_-_The_Freewheelin_Bob_Dylan

…Everything was blazing, everything was sweet. They were playing old Bob Dylan, more than perfect for narrow Village streets close to Christmas and the snow whirling down in big feathery flakes, the kind of winter where you want to be walking down a city street with your arm around a girl like on the old record cover–because Pippa was exactly that girl, not the prettiest, but the no-makeup and kind of ordinary-looking girl he’d chosen to be happy with, and in fact that picture was an ideal of happiness in its way, the hike of his shoulders and the slightly embarrassed quality of her smile, that open-ended look like they might just wander off anywhere they wanted together, and–there she was! her! and she was talking to herself, affectionate and old-shoe, asking me about Hobie and the shop and my spirits and what I was reading and what I was listening to, lots and lots of questions…

–Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

Okay, I have finally finished this magnum opus and I have to say I liked it. I think it is overly long and could have used some tightening up. At times I wanted to tell ol’ Boris to shut the hell up, but, you know, he was a talker.  I have heard some blog-grumbling about the end of the novel. Personally–spoiler alert–I was relieved to have it work out the way it did. And I think the last twenty pages were worth waiting for.

RV-AA329_MASTER_DV_20101012215103

I guess they are making a movie. I’m sure it will be awful. Sigh.

 

Being oneself

by chuckofish

Prairie Thunderhead by J. Douglas Thompson

Prairie Thunderhead by J. Douglas Thompson

“To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others.” 

― Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

O sacred head, sore wounded*

by chuckofish

And so we enter Holy Week.

palm-sunday-2

At our church we “re-enact” the Passion Drama during the service on Palm Sunday. Usually I am assigned to be a minor character like a serving girl (“You also were with Jesus the Galilean”) or the Centurion (“Truly this man was the Son of God!”), but this year I was not included at all. (My friend Carla and I joke about this because between the two of us we have been lay readers for nearly half a century, but we are no closer to being the Narrator or some named part than Joyce Meyer. Carla was a serving girl this year.)

I was a lector, however, and got to read a rousing lesson from Isaiah: “The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near…” and so on. I do love Isaiah.

Sunday night I was planning to watch The Robe on Netflix Watch Instantly,  but we couldn’t get it to work, so I watched a large part of Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth instead. I highly recommend it. It reflects, of course, the Roman side of the story and does a nice job of letting them off the hook. But Robert Powell is really great and so are the supporting players. Laurence Olivier as Nicodemus is one of my favorites.

During the week I will continue to read and watch appropriate fare, i.e. I abstained from watching Dancing With the Stars and their Disney-themed episode last night. Believe me it was not much of a sacrifice.

I have signed up to participate in the Good Friday Vigil following the Maundy Thursday service. I will be “waiting in the garden” from 5:00–6:00 a.m.

Window in Christ Episcopal Church, Poughkeepsie, NY

Window in Christ Episcopal Church, Poughkeepsie, NY

I have done this before and it is really quite a meaningful exercise. You are alone (with one other person) in the semi-dark of the spooky downstairs chapel with nothing to do but “stay awake for one hour” (see above window) and pray and meditate on Jesus and his sacrifice. This is right up my alley and better than the very public display of look-at-me-washing-someone’s-feet that is Maundy Thursday. To each his own.

Do you have any special plans for Holy Week?

* Traditional Hymn, attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux, trans. by Paul Gerhardt and James W. Alexander–We sang it on Palm Sunday which made me happy, especially my favorite verse:

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

Happy birthday, Susiebelle!

by chuckofish

Today is daughter #2’s birthday!

Awkward Church Directory photo

Awkward Church Directory photo

I hope she is having a lovely day in Maryland, wined and dined by her friends and colleagues. Hopefully the sun is shining, the birds are singing and she is wearing something new and pretty.

But I sure miss her and wish we could celebrate her 24th birthday together. C’est la vie.

Watercolor-photo collage by Carlos Nunez

Watercolor-photo collage by Carlos Nunez

Well, even though her tresses are not raven, I always think of this poem by Lord Byron when I think of the “belle”:

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

 

Happy birthday–we’ll be toasting you (and missing you) tonight!

Happy birthday, Lew Wallace

by chuckofish

Lewis_Wallace

Lewis Wallace (April 10, 1827 – February 15, 1905) was an American lawyer, Union General in the Civil War, territorial governor and statesman, politician, and author. Wallace served as governor of the New Mexico Territory at the time of the Lincoln County War. He put the squeeze on Billy the Kid! 

son of indiana

To me, he is a fine example of the classic American male: soldier, statesman, spiritual guy, and author of a best-selling novel! And he was from Indiana. And he wrote this:

“Men speak of dreaming as if it were a phenomenon of night and sleep. They should know better. All results achieved by us are self-promised, and all self-promises are made in dreams awake. Dreaming is the relief of labor,the wine that sustains us in act. We learn to love labor, not for itself, but for the opportunity it furnishes for dreaming, which is the great under-monotone of real life, unheard, unnoticed, because of its constancy. Living is dreaming. Only in the graves are there no dreams.” 

Wallace started writing after the war, and while serving as governor, he completed his second novel. This one made him famous–Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1880). It became the best-selling American novel of the 19th century, surpassing Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The book has never been out of print and has been adapted for film four times. 

In his autobiography he recounted a life-changing journey and conversation in 1875 with Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, whom he met on a train. During the journey Ingersoll, a well-known agnostic, quizzed Wallace about the history and ideas of Christ. Wallace realized during the conversation how little he knew about Christianity. He wrote, “I was ashamed of myself, and make haste now to declare that the mortification of pride I then endured…ended in a resolution to study the whole matter.” Writing about Christianity helped him become clear about his own ideas and beliefs. Wallace developed the novel Ben-Hur from his studies. The historian Victor Davis Hanson has argued that the novel drew from Wallace’s life, particularly his experiences at Shiloh, and the damage it did to his reputation. The book’s main character, Judah Ben-Hur, accidentally causes injury to a high-ranking commander, for which he and his family suffer tribulations and calumny. He first seeks revenge and then redemption. (Wallace may have felt bitterly toward U.S. Grant, but I hardly think he modeled the character of Messala after him.) Well, Wallace may have worked through a few personal issues, but writing can do that.

After Wallace retired home to Indiana, he built himself a wonderful writing study. (I want one too!)

WallaceStudy

His home in Crawfordsville, Indiana is on my bucket list of places I want to visit. I have been to Crawfordsville  (known as the “Athens of Indiana”) and to Wabash College, but I have not been to his home (yet).

Wallace also liked to write under his favorite tree, known fondly as “the Ben-Hur Beech”.

Lew-writing-under-the-Ben-Hur-Beech

I am with you, Lew!

“I know what I should love to do – to build a study; to write, and to think of nothing else. I want to bury myself in a den of books. I want to saturate myself with the elements of which they are made, and breathe their atmosphere until I am of it. Not a bookworm, being which is to give off no utterances; but a man in the world of writing – one with a pen that shall stop men to listen to it, whether they wish to or not.” 
― Lew Wallace

By the way, it is that time of year again–almost time to watch the 1959 version of Ben-Hur! I can’t wait!  But I will wait for daughter #1 to come home and watch it with me Easter weekend!

Buon giorno, Principessa!

by chuckofish

The game starts now. You have to score one thousand points. If you do that, you take home a tank with a big gun. Each day we will announce the scores from that loudspeaker. The one who has the fewest points will have to wear a sign that says “Jackass” on his back. There are three ways to lose points. One, turning into a big crybaby. Two, telling us you want to see your mommy. Three, saying you’re hungry and want a snack.

My movie pick for this week is Life is Beautiful (1997)–written, directed and starring Roberto Benigni.

lifeis

“La Vita e Bella” is a wonderful movie about the power of love to overcome evil. It is one of my all-time favorite movies. I took my two older children to see it because I thought it illustrated, better than any other movie, the absurdity of the Holocaust and the dementia of the Nazis. The story is like a dream or a fairy tale and those critics who said it “trivialized” the Holocaust are crazy. I loved the central characters, the Italian family of Guido, Dora and Joshua. Their story is a personal tragedy which illustrates vividly the larger one. The lengths to which Guido goes to shield and protect his son are amazing, but relatable. His gentile wife, who chooses to go to a camp because that is where her husband and son are, rather than stay “safe” at home, I can identify with. I cried and cried at the end of this film, while Sophie’s Choice left me cold and hating the characters.

You will laugh until you cry and then you will cry for real. Great, great movie.

Here’s a bit of movie trivia for you: The wonderful actor who played the little boy (Giorgio Cantarini) has only appeared in two motion pictures. In both of these movies the actor playing his father won an Academy Award for best actor in a leading role. Can you name the other actor besides Roberto Benigni?

P.S. I always wanted my husband to call me Principessa.

Darlin’, pardon me

by chuckofish

…but do I look familiar?

chris 1

I recently found this photo of my big bro in his glory days. I am including it in today’s post for no particular reason except to say tempus fugit.

Here’s some food for thought from ol’ Fred B.

It is a moment of light surrounded on all sides by darkness and oblivion. In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another just like it and there will never be another just like it again. It is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious it is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.

“This is the day which the Lord has made,” says the 118th Psalm. “Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Or weep and be sad in it for that matter. The point is to see it for what it is because it will be gone before yo know it. If you waste it, it is your life that you’re wasting. If you look the other way, it may be the moment you’ve been waiting for always that you’re missing.

All other days have either disappeared into darkness and oblivion or not yet emerged from them. Today is the only day there is.

–Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark

People talk

by chuckofish

swinging

“You must know that there is nothing higher and stronger and more wholesome and good for life in the future than some good memory, especially a memory of childhood, of home. People talk to you a great deal about your education, but some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education.”

― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

For this people’s heart has grown dull*

by chuckofish

God-rays on Lake Champlain

God-rays on Lake Champlain

Do you ever read the blog Humans of New York? Sometimes he asks the question: “If you could give one piece of advice to a large group of people, what would it be?”

This is a difficult question to answer on the spur-of-the-moment. I would say: read this poem by e.e. cummings and remember it.

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e.e. cummings
1894-1962

*For this people’s heart has grown dull,
and with their ears they can barely hear,
and their eyes they have closed,
lest they should see with their eyes
and hear with their ears
–Matthew 13:15–17 (English Standard Version)

Food for thought

by chuckofish

prayer-stained-glass-religion

Today is the feast day of Saint Gregory (540–604) on the Episcopal liturgical calendar. Even though John Calvin was an “admirer” of Gregory and states in his Institutes that he was the last good pope (Book IV, chapter 7:4) and he is the patron saint of musicians, singers, students, and teachers, he doesn’t do much for me.

I had planned to blog about him, but instead I give you these words from Rob Bell, who is a contemporary American author and minister.

Being a Christian is not cutting yourself off from real life; it is entering into it more fully.

It is not failing to go deeper; it is going deeper than ever.

It is a journey into the heart of how things really are.

What is it that makes you feel alive? What is it that makes your soul soar?

Velvet Elvis

Thoughts? Discuss among yourselves.