Is It a Story Worth Dying For?

 I'm now reading books #5 and #6 in my "Literary Life Reading Challenge" for this year. I tend to read books in pairs in case I get bored with one; I can switch to the other.

In the Literary Life group, there's a little saying: "Stories will save the world!" The members of this group believe this, and they share accounts that they think demonstrate the salvific nature of stories. I'm inclined to agree with them.

Take a few minutes to read this article, if you like: "What Neil Gaiman and My Secret Agent Grandmother Taught Me." In the article, the writer reminds us that books and stories can inspire both noble goodness and horrific evil. He suggests, when you've finished reading a book, "take a moment to consider what that story means, what larger narratives it fits into. Is it something you would die for? Is it something you would die to prevent? Who might suffer, and who might be empowered, if it were to come true?"

I cast my mind back to the four books I've finished:

Knock at a Star

84 Charing Cross Road

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Peel Society

Antigone

What deep life truths are those authors speaking to? Are they truths that resonate with my soul? Do I think people should die for them? Would I die for them?

Knock at a Star is a book of widely varying poems for children (and adults). I feel strongly about the power of poetry, about its significance in human history and its unique power to convey story. I need to ponder how those questions apply to this book.

84 Charing Cross Road is about the power of book-loving to connect people who never meet each other except through the written word, and how much love can be conveyed in that way. Is that type of communication worth dying for? How important is it?

Guernsey is precisely about this very topic: the power of stories to save people's lives, to save their inner world in the middle of crushing German occupation in WW2. The members of that literary society would die for each other. Books united them and saved them not only from their misery but for each other.

And Antigone. Oh, how I love that story! I think I could read it each year, and I don't feel that way about any other story. Antigone dies for what she believes, for fidelity to her brother and to her religious beliefs. She defies the king (her uncle) and the laws. I love Antigone's courage, her unyielding adherence to her highest ideals, her devotion to her brother.

Perhaps that's one definition of courage: knowing what you will die for, and doing it if push comes to shove. 

Now I've moved on to Alice's Adventures Under Ground by Lewis Carroll (which I never finished before, really never began) and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I wonder if those books will present any deep thoughts along these lines? I'll get back to you on that.

How My Reading Is Progressing:

 Hello, all! Gretchen and Mags, it's a happy thought that you might be joining me in this reading endeavor, however far any of us get in it. I imagine I will get distracted, and at some point decide I'd rather paint or garden than read ... but that's life!

Gretchen, yes, you DO have a small poetry volume: Knock at a Star. You recommended it strongly on your blog at some point, and I ordered a used copy, and I just read it through the other day as the top book on this challenge list. Hooray! I think a book of children's verse is a good way not to get bogged down in that category. In fact, children's books in general might be wise. I'm like a person who had a reading catastrophe/wreck in the past few years, and is just back into rehab and learning how to read again, if you know what I mean. I need short and easy.

So for the "Letters" category, I chose Helene Hanff's adorable, tiny book, 84 Charing Cross Road. I read it many years ago, and finished it last night.

I knew right away that I'd want to read Antigone as my Greek item, but I don't think I have a copy anymore. (I used to teach is often from an anthology.) So I found a nice copy translated by Fitzgerald online and will read it there. I ADORE Antigone.

But first, I needed a book from my To-Be-Read stack, so I launched into The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. You may recall that I read that only a few years ago. You man recall it ... but sadly I did not, AT ALL. In fact, as I read the first few letters (-- it would qualify in the "Letters" category, btw --) I was certain I had never, ever read this book before. It was not vaguely familiar; the movie, yes, it was familiar. And then I went to check on my blog and found that I had indeed read it before and had a lot to say about it! Sheesh. Might as well read it again then, since my memory is non-existent!

I just returned from the thrift store, where I found these:

These were all half off! Wait ... did I promise to read only from my own shelves, and not buy more books? Surely not.

I've never read Wilkie Collins, but he would qualify as a Victorian novelist. The Woman in White is well-known. Lost Laysen is a novella by Margaret Mitchell -- who knew? And the category "Literary Biography" should allow for autobiographical writing too, right? That's where the William Styron comes in. A passage he wrote about Nat Turner's rebellion captured my mind many years ago, and has never let go. How someone can write so beautifully about such a terrifying event, is a miraculous skill, so I knew I'd appreciate this short book.

That's the key. So many of the books I'm finding for my challenge list are very short, manageable, not-intimidating. And like you Mags, if somehow I find myself unable to complete it, I shall turn from the list without a pang. 

The A. M. Smith is just for fun. His Botswana books are sheer delight. He doesn't need a category.

Here's the challenge list again:

My 2021 Reading Challenge

I'm an occasional visitor to a Facebook group, "The Literary Life Podcast Discussion Group." Yes, there's a podcast that I never listen to, I'm sorry to admit. I'm not a podcast person. But I enjoy their discussions about various books and writers. In 2020, they presented a reading challenge: 20 categories of book types, and you fill in one book in each category to commit to reading. I knew there was no way I'd get through a regimented list like that, so I opted out.

But this year I'm tempted. Should I do the "192021" Reading Challenge? That's "19 books to read in 2021." Here's the category list:

What I'd love to do is fulfill as many of those selections from my own shelves as I can, probably rereading many of them. I'm sure I could find a book for each category from my own collection! Wouldn't that be a fun thing to do? And I'd choose short books, to ensure that I can finish the challenge. I'm also wondering if I should designate one day each week as "Reading Day," and eschew screens and devote myself primarily to reading. I'm looking at some of those categories and anticipating already the books I'd love to reread.

Is that a list that appeals to you? Would you like to join me? Or if 19 is too many, perhaps select 10 categories that you like most, and do those?

 

Coping

There are times in life when we flourish, and times when we only cope. I'm amazed at some friends who are seeming to flourish during this pandemic, which is wonderful! More and more, I am just coping. I don't think it's the virus and all its daily terrors that are getting to me so much. It's Adam's complicated, baffling, exhausting array of illnesses he's had since mid-March. We are both worn out.

So tomorrow morning I am going to Ocracoke to visit a friend for a few days of rest. I intend to do nothing, until I want to do something, and then I'll only do what I want ... a sure recipe for discontentment, haha! We will have fun, and I plan to eat from the Mexican food truck nearby. I want to smell sea air and walk along the sandy alleys on the island near the tiny shops. Otherwise, I don't much care what we do.

I went shopping at the local thrift store yesterday, hooray! Here are a few clothes I found to take to Ocracoke:

 A linen skirt and thin, drapey blouse above, both of which I had to mend a bit ... and below, my favorite shirt.

I also found toys for grandchildren to play with, when they come to Nana's house. Want to see?

 a castle (needed some repair)

 a barn

 beach toys

a bulldozer

I'll take a couple of books and my watercolors to the beach, just in case I want them. I still haven't found a book that's grabbed my interest, so I've returned to old, faithful Mr. Trollope.

 This one below is more of a booklet.

I sewed a little pouch for my paint brushes. Art cases are rather expensive. This one is a temporary fix.

 Slip your brushes in those slots, plus anything larger in the two end slots, and then roll it up.

 I had this very cute red fabric, but alas! it had drops of superglue dotted all over it :(  I cut the girls out of the fabric, and appliqued them onto my pouch. I think she's so cute.

 I ended up painting four versions of the orange tulips. This last one was on 9"x12" Arches paper, very nice, rather expensive paper. 

 If you are not bored of painting quite yet, here is a series of goose/goslings I did, following a lovely video by a painter on facebook.
First one. I didn't like the color of the goose.

 So I gave her a brown body.

 The water is hard to get right. A third attempt:

 Are you still reading? Bless you! 
What's Adam doing, on days when his mouth isn't killing him with sores? He's at his computer, starting up a new youtube endeavor! He's making tutorial videos for people around the world who play a game called "Crusader Kings." The existing videos are poor quality, but millions of people play this challenging game. He's been a good game-player for most of his life. He got himself a new "gamer" chair that is more comfortable than the wooden dining room chair he was using:

 And, the last of the peas. The cool spring garden is coming to an end.

You're lovely to bear with me. I may post on Ocracoke. I'll certainly take pictures and post afterward. Time to rest my nerves. What is it that Mr. Bennett says to Mrs. Bennett ... that her nerves have been his constant companions these many years? I feel the same about my nerves!

Wise Words from a Saint and Sister

My beautiful elderberry

 I ordered this used book online.

 Do you know Helen Roseveare? She was a medical missionary in Africa in the middle of the 20th Century. She knew struggle, she knew sin, and she knew suffering. She also made it her life's goal to know God. I'm still pondering that balance in life -- the importance of knowing God, and the importance of being known by God.

Here's a quote from Roseveare in her introduction to the book that I read over and over, finding it so wise, so helpful. It's long. I will pare it down to make it more succinct:

"My life ... has been for me a journey toward one definite and glorious goal, 'that I may know Him.' I have often felt that my life was akin to mountaineering, with a clear goal to reach the highest peak .... I found frequently that I climbed in glorious sunshine ... my face set determinedly for the nearest peak .... I revelled in the sense of achievement and victory and in the glorious view .... Then, slowly, my imagination would be caught by the next peak ... and eventually the resolve would form to set off upwards again.
"Here I made a mistake, many times .... As I went down from the present peak into the valley between the mountains, I was often shadowed by the very peak I had been enjoying .... This often led to despair .... I see now that I was wrong in this 'feeling.' The going down was merely an initial moving forward towards the next higher ground, never a going back to base level. The shadow was only relative after the brightness of the sun; the valley could provide rest for working out the experiences previously learnt, a time for refreshment before the next hard climb."

And here's the part that grabbed me:
"Had I understood this meaning of the sunshine and shadow in my life rather than interpreting my experiences along life's way as 'up' and 'down,' I might have saved myself many deep heartaches" (p. 8)

Are you ever puzzled as you try to interpret the events of your life, especially as you get older and it becomes apparent that most of your life is done, and there's little time to somehow "fix" the past or even see it in an improved context? I do, all the time. I find Roseveare's words so comforting as I remember (or am living in) those shadowed, deep valleys where perspective is limited. I usually close my eyes, figuratively speaking, and just survive. Grit my teeth and wait on the Lord. Look at Roseveare's counsel: those dark, low valleys are a time for rest, reflection, refreshment. And if they seem dark, perhaps it's only in contrast to the brightness of the breath-taking mountain peaks we teeter on for five minutes before each descent.

I've barely begun her thin autobiography, but I think it will be rich with wisdom like this.

At Last ... I Finish Something

I finished a book! Hooray! 

I have a stack of about 10 unfinished books.

 I've watched three film versions of Rebecca, but none of them compare to the book. Du Maurier's use of the unreliable narrator is superb. What a tool to use in a suspense novel! 

I also finished a sewing project ... kind of. It needs buttons and button holes for sure. This is the Vest Mock-Up:

It could take me years to put those buttons/holes on.

 Both fabrics were junky pieces in my stash from the thrift store. I used them for their weight -- heavy, sturdy fabric for the front, thin, silky fabric for the lining. The welt pockets were most difficult.

 I learned much in this first trial run. I'll make some changes to the pattern in my next attempt.

Today I painted something to replace a sunflowers painting I did last year that I tired of. It was hanging in the guest room. It's 22" x 15".
I sketched in the white picket fence. Then I started with the roses.

 I added some shading on the fence and the green background around the roses.

 More shading, more leaves, and some blue sky.

 You probably can't see any difference between the above photo and the one below, but I felt it needed something ... more depth. So I added thin pen in many of the roses and darkened their centers. Just little changes.

When is a painting finished? When you put it in a frame and it's too much trouble to take back out.

 See the pen?

Recently I returned to a simple, lovely piece of music, "Clair de Lune," part of a suite by Debussy that I memorized and performed in college. "Clair de Lune" was the easy, throw-away piece. Not anymore! I've lost much skill, but I still want to play. It's peaceful.

This piano piece needs SO much work.

 Tonight Adam made just fried broccoli and cheese sauce for supper. It's been a long day, and we're both spent. It was perfection! He mastered this dish after working at a restaurant in his 20s where it was served. The batter is light and perfectly crispy.

That's about it, folks. I haven't been to the garden in two days. The strawberries are probably screaming to be picked. Instead, today I went to a coffee shop with a friend. We sat at a picnic table in a park and enjoyed our coffee and pastries, and talked about how much we miss simply meeting with friends and doing things together away from home. We're ready for life to come back to normal. Sadly ... the Covid-19 virus is not ready yet! It's more efficient at contagion than we are at containing it. We can wish all we want, but it has the upperhand, medically speaking. Still, I think we'll be going out and shopping and visiting again soon. Our goal in isolating was to preserve our healthcare system, and we have accomplished that, correct? So now it is time to roll our sleevies up, face the hard fact of the virus, protect our at-risk people, and get back to living as safely as we can. I'm so proud of the medical folks who are working tirelessly for better treatments and a vaccine! Let's keep our chins up!

Stormy Weather!

We woke today to tornado watches and warnings in our area. It's blowing through right now. I've done a lot of yard work lately, so I don't feel bad about staying indoors today and sipping something warm. 

 Somehow I've reverted to being a coffee drinker again. I've discovered some very yummy, locally-roasted Costa Rican coffee, and I can't resist. I might need to go make another cup this minute!
Toast and apricot jam for breakfast:

 We have the strangest shortages during C-19 times! Yeast is in short supply, so Adam decided to make a sour dough starter. He used some honey from beekeeping friends. It was bubbling and growing this morning!

 Now here's a tale. Adam and I watched all episodes of a delightful, sweet show called "The Repair Shop," not a drama, but a fix-it show with experts in repairing all manner of dearly-loved heirlooms that people can't bear to part with, even in their broken states. Two ladies on the show are expert stuffed animal repairers. I pondered my very-loved childhood friend, Doggy. I love him so.

 Last week I did the seasonal-clothing-swap, digging into the bottom of my trunk where Doggy has lived for lo these many years. I always take him out and give him a good hug, and return him to the trunk bottom when I'm done sorting clothes. I put him on the couch so he could watch the clothing swap and get a look at the big world. And ... I forgot to put him in again. I closed up the trunk at last, done with the labor, and then saw him, sitting on the couch. I didn't want to open it again. "Maybe there's a reason I forgot to put him in," I thought.
He has a ratty spot on his side and sheds his stuffing.

 His stubby tail is a mess.

 His ears, once lined in polka-dotted fabric, are tattered. I used to hide secret notes to myself inside his ears!

 But his sweet, calm face! It was a constant calming reassurance in childhood and even adolescence. 

 Maybe I could try to repair him, now that I've watched how the ladies do it? I would so love to have him sleep with me in the bed again -- I know that is very silly, but it's true. The older I get, the more of a little girl I'm becoming.

Speaking of very sweet faces, Anna sent me a couple of photos from Easter. Hello, Isaac!

 He's eating an apple core.

 I joined a Facebook group called "The Golden Age of Illustration," dedicated to beautiful illustrators from about 1830 to 1980. I love Jill Barklem's work:

 And Arnold Lobel's work in Miss Suzy by Miriam Young.

i almost forgot! If you want to see what we've been doing on our property, click here and go over to my farm blog. 

I think I'll go make that cup of coffee and look out the window at the coming storm. The trees, grass and shrubs are that bright but hazy green because the air is strange. Earlier it looked like The Wizard of Oz, as Dorothy feels the cyclone coming. Hopefully, no cyclones here! Stay safe and well, friends!