Marly Youmans's Blog, page 111

Autumn morning with rain

Yesterday I finished the work on a long judging stint. I celebrated by taking a nap, and when I woke, I sat up in bed and wrote a poem. It felt like magic. And even a morning of autumn rain and "Goldengrove unleaving" can feel like the first day of summer. "Nature is never spent / There lives the dearest freshness deep down things..." I'm in a Hopkins sort of mood, it seems.

Or perhaps it is a

Waving from the book parlor...

Another day of deadlines and much reading ahead (not to mention important rush visits to the village dump and farmer's market), so why don't you visit me somewhere else, friendly passers-by? Book boards etc. at Pinterest? The Twittering Machine? Etc. Or wander around in the blog, visiting past time. Good cheer and happy reading...

And thanks to Nancy Olson of Quail Ridge Books for recommending A

Public service announcement

This is a no-post day. It is a day to kickstart the children, read many books for a deadline, and wrangle on contracts. Probably I'll throw in a little self-doubt and considerable ditheration and a few fantods. Have a good one, passers-by!

News x 3

1.  Epstein on the state of the liberal arts

Have I said that I very much like Joseph Epstein? I feel sure that I've mentioned his wonderful essay on Isaac Bashevis Singer. Here's a new essay of his that is in part a review of Andrew Delbanco's College: What It Was, Is, and Should Be but is also a frank, interesting response to the current state of the liberal arts on campus.

Clip: The death of

Rebecca and Campbell, Cake Caterers

Rebecca and Campbell, two old friends from summer camp,get together in Cooperstown and make cake!




Happy birthday, Campbell Higle!




Congratulations to Campbell, now leaving forTrinity College, Dublin as a freshman.The Emma Willard cyclone is on her way...




"May the road always rise to meet you . . .may God hold you in the palm of His hand."

The Substance

Awash in driving lessons, NBA reading, Scouts, company, and more... So here's a tiny poem from the just-out The Foliate Head (UK: Stanza Press.) Originally published in Angle. More poems here.




THE SUBSTANCE



Fine as a ring-stole drawn through a hoop

Of gold, but crimped and burned

And almost ruined by some fire

Long ago, far away--

Glimmering like abalone,

Moody and beautiful.



Some

Tolkien/Jacobson, genre/literary

Update: Book designer John Coulthart just sent me a link to this piece, in which he says Jacobson is more nuanced about genre. "The best fiction doesn't need a label." It looks interesting, and I'm going to read it now and then get back to work. Thank you, John!

High school started here on Thursday. The three children and I watched The Lord of the Rings trilogy in celebration of the start of the

Red King Redux

Three of The Book of the Red King poems are at the 2012-2 issue of David Landrum's Lucid Rhythms: "The Fool, the King, and the Fox-Fall," "The Yellow Fool," and "The Red Fool." The latter two are little poems based on alchemical colors (some others of these have appeared in At Length), and the first is a narrative. I need to think more about the first one, whether it will stay as is,

Michael in Mozambique

My husband is the Man of Hobbies.

Some years he takes up beer-making. Some years he decides to dedicate himself to the perfect homemade sausage. During med school and training he did a great deal of hand-piecing and quilting. He used to repair key-wound toys. A few years ago he wrote a novel to see what that was like (I think it's lying around somewhere, almost finished.) Among other pursuits,

Updatery

Things done well and with a care, exempt themselves from fear.
--Shakespeare, Measure for Measure

Today is the first day of high school in the Village of Coopertown, so lark-rising season begins for me and my youngest. Tomorrow I tote my two eldest to driving school as well, as it is time for one young man and one young woman to learn how to navigate the world. My husband seems to be having a