Nautical Know-How

"Before you try to steer,
learn to row."

--Aristophanes

via Peter Green
and his novel about Lucius Cornelius Sulla,
Roman dictator,
The Sword of Pleasure

A Great Wide Open

Strand
(not stranded).

Note To Self: Get To Work

Other People's Stories --

I've been archaeologist,
salvage expert,
and certainly shepherd.


What about those stories of my own?

Solnit: "Counter-Criticism"

"There is a kind of counter-criticism that seeks to expand the work of art, by connecting it, opening up its meanings, inviting in the possibilities. A great work of criticism can liberate a work of art, to be seen fully, to remain alive, to engage in a conversation that will not ever end but will instead keep feeding the imagination. Not against interpretation, but against confinement, against the killing of the spirit. Such criticism is itself great art."

"This is a kind of criticism that does not pit the critic against the text, does not seek authority. It seeks instead to travel with the work and its ideas, invite it to blossom and invite others into a conversation that might have previously seemed impenetrable, to draw out relationships that might have been unseen and open doors that might have been locked. This is a kind of criticism that respects the essential mystery of a work of art, which is in part its beauty and its pleasure, both of which are irreducible and subjective."

--from Rebecca Solnit's "Woolf's Darkness: Embracing the Inexplicable"

Rebecca Solnit, Men Explain Things To Me,
Chicago, Il.: Haymarket Books,
2014

Are You Hungry?

Prepping for a lecture:
"The Hungry Reader at the Feast"
Nov. 18, 2011.

Glimpses: Or, Lecture Notes

Anonymous: "Strip Me Naked, or Royal Gin for Ever. A Picture"

STRIP ME NAKED, OR ROYAL GIN FOR EVER.  A PICTURE.

I must, I will have gin! – that skillet take,
Pawn it.  –No more I’ll roast, or boil or bake.
This juice immortal will each want supply;
Starve on, ye brats! so I but bung my eye. (*drink my dram)
Starve?  No!  This gin ev’n mother’s milk excels,
Paints the pale cheeks, and hunger’s darts repels.
The skillet’s pawned already?  Take this cap;
Round my bare head I’ll yon brown paper wrap.
Ha! half my petticoat was torn away
By dogs (I fancy) as I maudlin lay.
How the wind whistles through each broken pane!
Through the wide-yawning roof how pours the rain!
My bedstead’s cracked; the table goes hip-hop. –
But see! The gin!  Come, come, though cordial drop!
Thou sovereign balsam to my longing heart!
Thou husband, children, all!  We must not part.

Drinks.
Delicious!  O!  Down the red lane it goes;
Now I’m a queen, and trample on my woes.
Inspired by gin, I’m ready for the road;
Could shoot my man, or fire the King’s abode.
Ha! my brain’s cracked. –The room turns round and round;
Down drop the platters, pans: I’m on the ground.
My tattered gown slips from me. –What care I?
I was born naked, and I’ll naked die.

--Anonymous, 1751 publication

Source:
Lonsdale’s The New Oxford Book of Eighteenth-Century Verse (1984)

*See also William Hogarth's socio-political prints from that some year--1751--"Beer Street" and "Gin Lane".

Lyrics: "Madman Across The Water"

MADMAN ACROSS THE WATER

I can see very well
There's a boat on the reef with a broken back
And I can see it very well
There's a joke and I know it very well
It's one of those that I told you long ago
Take my word I'm a madman don't you know

Once a fool had a good part in the play
If it's so would I still be here today
It's quite peculiar in a funny sort of way
They think it's very funny everything I say
Get a load of him, he's so insane
You better get your coat dear
It looks like rain

We'll come again next Thursday afternoon
The In-laws hope they'll see you very soon
But is it in your conscience that you're after
Another glimpse of the madman across the water

I can see very well
There's a boat on the reef with a broken back
And I can see it very well
There's a joke and I know it very well
It's one of those that I told you long ago
Take my word I'm a madman don't you know

The ground's a long way down but I need more
Is the nightmare black
or are the windows painted
Will they come again next week
Can my mind really take it

--Elton John,
from the album of the same name (1971);
Bernie Taupin, lyricist.

--I've always found this song to be compelling, even haunting, even when I wasn't sure what it all added up to.  I was only ten years old when the song came out and conquered the radio waves.