Ned Hayes's Blog, page 127
January 23, 2014
“The sound of a distant ocean covers me with surf, that...
“The sound of a distant ocean covers me with surf, that tide that bears me back into the past, back to the place where I was born. People come through the whiteness, through the bright light, but all of them are ghosts.”
Candle wax on a medieval page
“I glance swiftly down at...
Candle wax on a medieval page
“I glance swiftly down at the leaves open on the tables, looking for Moten’s carrel with his records, his manuscript. As always, the monks in the scriptorium work to inscribe the secrets of the ancients. Each lectern holds an ancient book and a new. The ink wells are covered, the quills sharpened to a nib, and the books wait here with half-complete lines of drying ink.”
PHOTO: erikkwakkel:
Medieval evenings were as dark as ours. However, with no electricity and smaller windows, rooms - libraries - will generally have been dark places back then. This is why we frequently encounter candle wax on the pages of medieval books. Imagine the medieval reader bent over his book, holding a candle. In this case to read a law text and scribble clarifying notes between the lines. A bit of wax to illuminate the law.
Liverpool University, Sydney Jones Library, MS 4.20 (Italy, 13th century)
January 22, 2014
Video interview on BookNote (w/ Riana Nelson )
SINFUL FOLK by...
Video interview on BookNote (w/ Riana Nelson )
SINFUL FOLK by Ned Hayes, illustrations by Nikki McClure
“Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in...
“Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a watery sky. Light seeps across the forest as the reedy shrieks of wood fowl echo in the trees.
The valley where our village of Duns rests is surrounded by for-ested hills. The path from our village to the King’s Highway is no road at all; it is a crooked line of mud rutted with cart tracks, a rough trough where the dirty snow is stabbed through by the hooves of feral sheep.
The flock of villagers around the cart thins now. At first, as we approach the last house of the village, it appears Hob and Salvius might be heading for the open ground of the graveyard, but then the cart passes that turning. Hob is taking us beyond the bounds of the known world,”
January 21, 2014
"Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one’s hands."
- Ezra Pound (via frankysosa)
"Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a...
"Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a watery sky. Light seeps across the forest as the reedy shrieks of wood fowl echo in the trees.
The valley where our village of Duns rests is surrounded by forested hills. The path from our village to the King’s Highway is no road at all; it is a crooked line of mud rutted with cart tracks, a rough trough where the dirty snow is stabbed through by the hooves of feral sheep. To the east, that faint track leads up through the for- est until it reaches, finally, the open country and paths that lead to other places.
The flock of villagers around the cart thins now. Hob is taking us beyond the bounds of the known world.”
— from the novel SINFUL FOLK
PHOTO: sans titre by emily szabo on Flickr.
January 20, 2014
"Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations."
- Vladimir Nabokov (via kerryquotesquotes)
"Cold tears as salty as ocean spray wet my face. I remember the...
"Cold tears as salty as ocean spray wet my face. I remember the day before she died, my mother took me out in our little fishing boat, out on the open water of the sea—the thrum and hiss of surf upon the shore behind us, the rhythm never ceasing. And she taught me something: strange and secret words in a foreign tongue, a lilting singsong cadence to it."
January 19, 2014
"Books are easily destroyed. But words will live as long as people remember them."
- Aaron Warner (Unravel Me)
