We have had a rainy, stormy week, but the forecast for the weekend is good. I plan to take it easy and prepare for next weekend when I am going to my niece’s wedding in Pennsylvania.
“I’ll read my books and I’ll drink coffee and I’ll listen to music, and I’ll bolt the door.”
–J.D. Salinger, A Boy in France: Saturday Evening Post CCXVII, March 31, 1945
Sounds like a plan to me.
(The painting is by Thomas Hart Benton)
“[All the ancient wisdom] tells us that work is necessary to us, as much a part of our condition as mortality; that good work is our salvation and our joy; that shoddy or dishonest or self-serving work is our curse and our doom. We have tried to escape the sweat and sorrow promised in Genesis – only to find that, in order to do so, we must forswear love and excellence, health and joy.”
–Wendell Berry, The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays, “The Unsettling of America”
The wood engraving is by Clare Leighton – Scything, 1935
Today we note again the anniversary of the death of Henry David Thoreau in 1862.
Let us not forget these wise words:
The fate of the country does not depend on how you vote at the polls — the worst man is as strong as the best at that game; it does not depend on what kind of paper you drop into the ballot-box once a year, but on what kind of man you drop from your chamber into the street every morning.
Hear, hear!
Have a good weekend. Happy Mother’s Day!
Henry and William James, brothers, early 20th century
“Now, my dear little girl, you have come to an age when the inward life develops and when some people (and on the whole those who have most of a destiny) find that all is not a bed of roses. Among other things there will be waves of terrible sadness, which last sometimes for days; irritation, insensibility, etc., etc., which taken together form a melancholy. Now, painful as it is, this is sent to us for an enlightenment. It always passes off, and we learn about life from it, and we ought to learn a great many good things if we react on it right. (For instance, you learn how good a thing your home is, and your country, and your brothers, and you may learn to be more considerate of other people, who, you now learn, may have their inner weaknesses and sufferings, too.) Many persons take a kind of sickly delight in hugging it; and some sentimental ones may even be proud of it, as showing a fine sorrowful kind of sensibility. Such persons make a regular habit of the luxury of woe. That is the worst possible reaction on it. It is usually a sort of disease, when we get it strong, arising from the organism having generated some poison in the blood; and we mustn’t submit to it an hour longer than we can help, but jump at every chance to attend to anything cheerful or comic or take part in anything active that will divert us from our mean, pining inward state of feeling. When it passes off, as I said, we know more than we did before. And we must try to make it last as short a time as possible. The worst of it often is that, while we are in it, we don’t want to get out of it. We hate it, and yet we prefer staying in it—that is a part of the disease. If we find ourselves like that, we must make something ourselves to some hard work, make ourselves sweat, etc.; and that is the good way of reacting that makes of us a valuable character. The disease makes you think of yourself all the time; and the way out of it is to keep as busy as we can thinking of things and of other people—no matter what’s the matter with our self.”
–William James, (January 11, 1842 – August 26, 1910), American philosopher and psychologist
“For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.”
―Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
I have a pile of new and vintage books to read.
What is better than that? A window with a nice view. Maybe someone bringing you a cup of tea or making dinner for you?
I guess I am getting old, but that sounds very good to me.
Today is the birthday of author Rafael Sabatini (April 29, 1875 – February 13, 1950). He was born in Italy, the son of an English mother and an Italian father–both opera singers, which explains a lot.
Sabatini wrote in English, and all in all, he produced 31 novels, eight short story collections, six non-fiction books, numerous uncollected short stories, and a play. I think I read Scaramouche way back when, but he is best known these days because of two great movies and a bunch of other not-so-great movies, which were inspired by his novels. I’m thinking, of course, of Captain Blood (1935)
and The Sea Hawk (1940)
both starring Errol Flynn and directed by Michael Curtiz.
But we mustn’t forget Scaramouche (1952) which starred Stewart Granger
and The Black Swan (1942) with Tyrone Power–
both not as good despite being filmed in flaming technicolor. (There are also quite a few old silent movies based on his adventure novels.)
Anyway, I suggest we all watch movies this weekend inspired by the stories of Rafael Sabatini. We could do a lot worse. I vote for Captain Blood which is full of action and good dialogue:
Arabella Bishop: Oh, forgive me for not recognizing you, Dr. Blood. You’re so changed… and for the better.
Dr. Peter Blood: The Governor tells me I have you to thank for that.
Arabella Bishop: You don’t sound very grateful, Dr. Blood.
Dr. Peter Blood: Do you suppose I’d be grateful for an easy life, when my friends are treated like animals? Faith, it’s they deserve your favors, not I. They’re all honest rebels. I was snoring in my bed while they were trying to free England from an unclean tyrant [King James].
Arabella Bishop: I believe you’re talking treason.
Dr. Peter Blood: I hope I’m not obscure.
Have a great weekend!
*Captain Blood by Rafael Sabatini
“Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life – it has given me me . It has provided time and experience and failures and triumphs and time-tested friends who have helped me step into the shape that was waiting for me. I fit into me now. I have an organic life, finally, not necessarily the one people imagined for me, or tried to get me to have. I have the life I longed for. I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I would be.”
–Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith
Daughter #2 arrives this evening and daughter #1 tomorrow morning. My brother and sister are coming to town on Friday!
Safe, smooth travels to all. Margaritas all around!
Having finished my second Jussi Adler-Olsen detective novel, I looked around my shelves for something to read. I settled on The Nautical Chart (La carta esférica) by Spanish author Arturo Pérez-Reverte. He is best known for his El capitán Alatriste books. I have read The Adventures of Captain Alatriste about a Spanish soldier of fortune in the 17th century, and enjoyed it very much, so I thought I’d try this other book which I had picked up at an estate sale.
Coy is a sailor without a ship. Tánger Soto is a woman with an obsession to find the Dei Gloria, a ship sunk during the seventeenth century, and El Piloto is an old man with the sailboat on which all three set out to seek their fortune together. Or do they? (Amazon.com)
Chapter one begins with a quote from Moby Dick (“I have swum through oceans and sailed through libraries.”) so I knew I was on to something good. In short order the author invokes literary references ranging from Lord Jim to Tintin.
“I saved every cent so I could go to the bookstore and come out with one of these [a Tintin book] in my hands, holding my breath, loving the feel of the hard covers, the colors of the splendid illustrations. And then, all by myself, I would open the pages and smell the paper and the ink before I dived into the story. So I collected all twenty-three, one by one. A lot of time has gone by since then, but to this day, when I open a Tintin I can smell the smell that I have associated with adventure and life ever since. Along with the movies of John Ford and John Huston, Richmal Compton’s [Crompton] Adventures of William, and a few other books, these shaped my childhood.”
Well. A fictional character after my own heart!
I have to admit that I only know about Tintin because the boy was a big fan growing up.
And I am not acquainted with these Adventures of William books. Apparently they were very popular in England.
This just goes to show, there is always so much more out there to read!
Anyway, I am really enjoying The Nautical Chart. I’ll let you know how it goes. What are you reading?
P.S. My spy in Jupiter sent me this picture of the Cardinal dugout. The Skipper is on the bench on the left.
“My thoughts went round and round and it occurred to me that if I ever wrote a novel it would be of the ‘stream of consciousness’ type and deal with an hour in the life of a woman at the sink. I felt resentful and bitter towards Helena and Rocky and even towards Julian, though I had to admit that nobody had compelled me to wash these dishes or to tidy this kitchen. It was the fussy spinster in me, the Martha who could not comfortably sit and make conversation when she knew that yesterday’s unwashed dishes were still in the sink.”
―Barbara Pym, Excellent Women
It’s been a busy week and I am looking forward to my weekend. How about you?
If you cannot read all your books, at any rate…peer into them, let them fall open where they will, read from the first sentence that arrests the eye, set them back on the shelves with your own hands, arrange them on your own plan so that you at least know where they are. Let them be your friends; let them be your acquaintances.
–Winston Churchill (1874–1965)
This is going to be my next project, arranging my books “on my own plan.” I already sort of do this, but I could do a better job.
All right, Winston, I accept your challenge.
dual personalities 