Yes, thanks, that's it. The picture of the monkey raises another very obscure topic that perhaps flagamuffin might appreciate -- because even if he doesn't write in books, he might well stick related or unrelated clippings into books. Should you request it, I'll shake down some of my books and see what falls out. Meanwhile, I was intrigued by your volume of Kafka's Blue Octavo Notebooks where I found this passage - underlined: “Art flies around truth, but with the definite intention of not getting burnt. Its capacity lies in finding in the dark void a place where the beam of light can be intensely caught, without this having been perceptible before.”don't tell _refugee_.
I definitely will not tell her about your Grooks. I won't mention the Rimbaud either or a Dover edition of someone's selected poetry (I can't quite make out the author). I imagine someone left them in your shelf long ago.
I have stayed out of this thread because, frankly, I find taking pictures and uploading them to Hubski to be...a bit of a hassle. However, I assert that you absolutely can be under 30 and have a bookshelf. I have several. Sigh, you've convinced me now. I will upload a picture of my poetry shelf. (I have three devoted "book-storing" places/shelves. Sadly one is at my parents'. That is the one that goes floor-to-ceiling. The shelf at my apartment now is far too small. And my poetry books all go at my desk for easy access.) Confession: Sometimes I permanently keep books others have "lent" me. Maybe that is what happened with wasoxygen
I do this, ironically I am currently doing this with Rimbaud's Illumunations lil so if that's supposed to be some sort of dirty secret, oops. It's all just surrealist poetry to me! Probably a bit too drunk to be on hubski tonight. EDIT: holy SHIT wasoxygen I just noticed you have Least Heat Moon's book -- one of the best reads ever -- never really encountered another copy of that out in the wildConfession: Sometimes I permanently keep books others have "lent" me. Maybe that is what happened with wasoxygen
Blue Highways was acquired on the strength of a single recommendation from the housemate of a housemate, probably fifteen years ago. We weren't that close, so his opinion wasn't enough to get me to read the book, but such was his enthusiasm that I was never able to select that volume for disposal during any of the various space-saving purges over the years. Now that I have two strong recommendations, odds are good the book will soon be promoted from bookshelf to my bag, and in any case preserved from "trash basura śmieci" stickers.
I saved a million-lira note by pressing it in a book as we used to do with leaves, but now I don't remember which book so it is safe even from me. In my copy of Cien años de soledad (which I am sure I never got through) I found my written copy of a quote from some lit-crit treatment I found at the library:I'll shake down some of my books and see what falls out.
That would be just fine. I used to keep a collection of Things Found in Books, for which used book stores were also a good source. Ephemera like airplane ticket stubs told stories as evocative as those in the books.
Nor is it a problem for readers who hold with Roland Barthes that a text is not an apricot but an onion: not a fruit with a hidden kernel, but "a construction of layers (or levels or systems) whose body contains, finally, no heart, no kernel, no secret, no irreducable principle, nothing except the infinity of its own envelopes -- which envelop nothing other than the unity of its own surfaces."
-- One Hundred Years of Solitude: Modes of Reading by Regina JamesKafka's Blue Octavo Notebooks
Do see about posting an image of your bookshelves, would you please? Perhaps a friend passing through could take some snaps. It's a good practice for insurance purposes too. Unless you have something to hide ... I had no idea there was so much poetry in the house.
The Rimbaud was indeed a gift, but it is a cherished one. The Dover anthology is 100 Best-Loved Poems and represents a genuine attempt to cure myself of an unhealthy lack of appreciation for this art form. I kept it in the bedside table for a while, and probably read "Jabberwocky" most. Also visible is a slim dual-language copy of Erich Kästner's Aus seiner kleinen Versfabrik / From his Small Poetry Business. I kept this in the glove box for years to pass the time during oil changes and safety inspections. Here is one stanza (of five) from Kästner's poem "Some Poets Admit." While you sell soap, we deal in sentiments.
All sighs and sufferings -- as is our way --
We decorate with tasteful ornaments.
And flagellate our hearts three times a day.
yes, you should feel bad. It's worth saving just to give away to a depressed young poet you might run into. Nonetheless, thanks for the mentioning Rimbaud. I just pulled out my bilingual edition of Rimbaud Une Saison en Enfer & Le Bateau Ivre (New Directions Paperbook #9) and reread his biography. Died at 37 after a lot of running away.