R.L. Swihart's Blog, page 71
February 28, 2021
Willa Cather: Paul's Case
Paul was awakened next morning by a painful throbbing in his head and feet. He had thrown himself across the bed without undressing, and had slept with his shoes on. His limbs and hands were lead heavy, and his tongue and throat were parched. There came upon him one of those fateful attacks of clear-headedness that never occurred except when he was physically exhausted and his nerves hung loose. He lay still and closed his eyes and let the tide of realities wash over him.
His father was in New York; “stopping at some joint or other,” he told himself. The memory of successive summers on the front stoop fell upon him like a weight of black water. He had not a hundred dollars left; and he knew now, more than ever, that money was everything, the wall that stood between all he loathed and all he wanted. The thing was winding itself up; he had thought of that on his first glorious day in New York, and had even provided a way to snap the thread. It lay on his dressing-table now; he had got it out last night when he came blindly up from dinner,—but the shiny metal hurt his eyes, and he disliked the look of it, anyway.
February 27, 2021
Long Beach: Cedar Waxwings
Long Beach. Marina Vista Park. Cedar Wings. Very unexpected (but I got an "ear-full"). I've never seen them there or anywhere else. The red berries (what kind?) must've been the lure. Fascinating to watch. Busy has bees but like I read somewhere: they share.
#rlswihart13
#rl_swihart
#longbeach #marine stadium #waxwings #cedarwaxwings


Fairview Park: Cooper's Hawk
Costa Mesa. Fairview Park. NW side, fence overlooking a golf course. While I was distracted by the meadowlarks, he slipped behind me (seemingly out of nowhere). I had only one shot. Hardly a perfect one, but I'm thinking: Peregrine.
According to my much raptor-wiser friend @just.birdies, this is a mature Cooper's hawk not a Peregrine. (I'm learning.)
#rlswihart13 #rl_swihart #costamesa #fairviewpark #falcons #dappledawndrawn #peregrine #poetry #beauty #readmorepoetry2021

February 26, 2021
Willa Cather's The Enchanted Bluff
Dipping into a little Cather "mythology" because I'm soon heading to the crane migration and the epicenter of much of her work: Red Cloud.
*
This tidbit is from the short story "The Enchanted Bluff":
This was our last watch fire of the year, and there were reasons why I should remember it better than any of the others. Next week the other boys were to file back to their old places in the Sandtown High School, but I was to go up to the Divide to teach my first country school in the Norwegian district. I was already homesick at the thought of quitting the boys with whom I had always played; of leaving the river, and going up into a windy plain that was all windmills and corn fields and big pastures; where there was nothing wilful or unmanageable in the landscape, no new islands, and no chance of unfamiliar birds—such as often followed the watercourses.
February 25, 2021
Bolsa Chica: The Brant
Bolsa Chica. I stopped briefly on my way home from Fairview. Was hoping to see the red egret, but these beautiful geese (knew them but only from pics) were a nice consolation: the brant.
#rlswihart13 #rl_swihart #bolsachica #geese #thebrant #brant #poetry #beauty #ReadMore

February 23, 2021
Fairview Park: American Kestrel
Costa Mesa. Fairview Park. Fast becoming one of my favorite little raptors: the American Kestrel.
#rlswihart13 #rl_swihart #costamesa #fairviewpark #birds #raptors #americankestrel #poetry #beauty #readmorepoetry2021



February 20, 2021
Tolstoy's Trilogy
As counterpoint to Coetzee's autofiction trilogy, I've started reading Tolstoy's: Childhood, Boyhood, Youth.
From Childhood:
The preparations which had been in progress for some days past had made us expect some unusual event, but this news left us thunderstruck, Woloda turned red, and, with a shaking voice, delivered Mamma's message to Papa.
"So this was what my dream foreboded!" I thought to myself. "God send that there come nothing worse!" I felt terribly sorry to have to leave Mamma, but at the same rejoiced to think that I should soon be grown up, "If we are going to-day, we shall probably have no lessons to do, and that will be splendid, However, I am sorry for Karl Ivanitch, for he will certainly be dismissed now. That was why that envelope had been prepared for him. I think I would almost rather stay and do lessons here than leave Mamma or hurt poor Karl. He is miserable enough already."
As these thoughts crossed my mind I stood looking sadly at the black ribbons on my shoes, After a few words to Karl Ivanitch about the depression of the barometer and an injunction to Jakoff not to feed the hounds, since a farewell meet was to be held after luncheon, Papa disappointed my hopes by sending us off to lessons--though he also consoled us by promising to take us out hunting later.
On my way upstairs I made a digression to the terrace. Near the door leading on to it Papa's favourite hound, Milka, was lying in the sun and blinking her eyes.
"Miloshka," I cried as I caressed her and kissed her nose, "we are going away today. Good-bye. Perhaps we shall never see each other again." I was crying and laughing at the same time.
Vermilion Flycatcher
Near Cerritos Auto Mall. Narrow strip of parks between channelized San Gabriel River and Studebaker. Vermilion Flycatcher. Only two shots (one bad) and he was gone.
#rlswihart13 #rl_swihart #cerritos #studebaker #sangabrielriver #birds #flycatchers #vermilionflycatcher #poetry #inspiration #hereandgone #readmorepoetry2021

February 18, 2021
Coetzee: Summertime: Politics
You say he was not political. Do you mean that he was apolitical? Because some people would say that the apolitical is just one variety of the political.
No, not apolitical, I would rather say anti-political. He thought that politics brought out the worst in people. It brought out the worst in people and also brought to the surface the worst types in society. He preferred to have nothing to do with it.
Did he preach this anti-political politics in his classes?
Of course not. He was very scrupulous about not preaching. His political beliefs you discovered only after you got to know him better.
You say his politics were Utopian. Are you implying they were unrealistic?
He looked forward to the day when politics and the state would wither away. I would call that Utopian. On the other hand, he did not invest a great deal of himself in these Utopian longings. He was too much of a Calvinist for that.
Please explain.
You want me to say what lay behind Coetzee’s politics? You can best get that from his books. But let me try anyway. In Coetzee’s eyes, we human beings will never abandon politics because politics is too convenient and too attractive as a theatre in which to give rein to our baser emotions. Baser emotions meaning hatred and rancour and spite and jealousy and bloodlust and so forth. In otherwords, politics as we know it is a symptom of our fallen state and expresses that fallen state.
February 17, 2021
Coetzee: Summertime: Teaching
‘I do not intend to be an examination coach for the rest of my life,’ he said. ‘It is something I am doing for the present, something I happen to be qualified to do, in order to make a living. But it is not my vocation. It is not what I was called into the world to do.’
Called into the world. More and more strange.
‘If you would like me to explain my philosophy of teaching I can do so,’ he said. ‘It is quite brief, brief and simple.’
‘Go on,’ I said, ‘let us hear your brief philosophy.’
‘What I call my philosophy of teaching is in fact a philosophy of learning. It comes out of Plato, modified. Before true learning can occur, I believe, there must be in the student’s heart a certain yearning for the truth, a certain fire. The true student burns to know. In the teacher she recognizes, or apprehends, the one who has come closer than herself to the truth. So much does she desire the truth embodied in the teacher that she is prepared to burn her old self up to attain it. For his part, the teacher recognizes and encourages the fire in the student, and responds to it by burning with an intenser light. Thus together the two of them ascend to a higher realm. So to speak.’