So. While for the most part yesterday made me want to crawl into a hole and fall asleep for a very, very long time (ridiculous evening news + a terrible grade on my chem test + a great opportunity that I had to turn down), it wasn't all bad. One of the great things about yesterday was that I got to hang out with my friends Ron and Akire before my class. When I saw this book on Ron's dining table, I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to pick it up because Ron's apartment is like the library or Fully Booked--if you don't want to come out with a book, don't pick the book up. There's still so much from my Amazon loot I haven't read!
But curiousity got the better of me (look at that cover) so I opened it up and of course, ended up borrowing it. I really, really like how Mark Strand writes (for the most part) and I was so happy to find that his non-fiction is also incredibly well-written.
My favorite bits from this book, so far are the following: (This is from a section called The Poet's Alphabet)
B is for before, the acknowledged antecedent of now, the innocent shape of earlier, the vague and beautiful cousin of "when", the tragic mother of "will become", the suicide of "too late."
L is for lake.I prefer the ocean and some of the rivers I've seen, but for writing I like the manageable water of lakes. A lake is a more flexible prop. It doesn't demand the respect of the ocean, which compels us to fairly predictable responses; that is, we too easily slip into feelings of awe or peace or whatever. Nor does it tease us with hints of the infinite. A lake can be made to fit what the poem's topography demands. Rivers will generally run through a poem, or carry it along, and they tend to resist formal containment, which is why they are so frequently (but mistakenly) likened to life. They also tend to be shallow, a feature which might be equated with life as well, but not with poetry. So, for a body of water, give me a lake, a great lake or even a salt lake, where water can be still, where reflection is possible, where one can kneel at the edge, look down, and see oneself. It is an old story.
Sigh. I am a sucker for the subtle insertion of references to myth. This book is P595 at Fully Booked and I'd definitely recommend you go get a copy nowwww! (I recommend this to myself too as I don' have one either.)
