21 posts tagged “♥”

It's been ages since I finished a book in under two days, so finis hing Jonathan Carroll's The Marriage of Sticks was a treat.  And as usual, after finishing a good book, I gave myself an extended stretch, like I would do in the mornings when I wake up from a good night's sleep.

I don't even know how to describe the story, other than it starts out like there's nothing extraordinary going on, and somewhere in the middle things start going weird until you get to the end where everything's totally bizarre.  That's what I love about Jonathan Carroll, you never really know where you're going to end up, and you always end up somewhere fantastic but oddly familiar.  (Props to my friend Ces who initiated me into the cult, and huge apologies for my having lost her copy of Sleeping in Flame during the move.)

Finding this poem in the book was sweet, too.

If I get to love you, please leave without knocking,
but think it over well:
my straw mattress will be yours, the dusty straw,
the rustling sighs.

Into the pitcher fresh water I'll pour,
your shoes, before you leave, I'll wipe clean,
no one will disturb us here,
hunched over, you could mend our clothes in peace.

If the silence is great, I will talk to you,
If you are tired, take my only chair,
If it's warm here, loosen your collar, take off your tie,
if you are hungry, there's a clean sheet of paper
as your plate if there's food,
but leave some for me—I, too, am forever hungry.

If I get to love you, enter without knocking,
but think it over well:
it would hurt if you stayed away for too long.

All in all, a very satisfying read and totally recommended.

Instructions
by Neil Gaiman

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
saw before.
Say "please" before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path.
A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted
front door,
as a knocker,
do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat
nothing.
However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,
feed it.
If it tells you that it is dirty,
clean it.
If it cries to you that it hurts,
if you can,
ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the
wild wood.
The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's
realm;
there is another land at the bottom of it.
If you turn around here,
you can walk back, safely;
you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the
wood.
The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-
growth.
Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She
may ask for something;
give it to her. She
will point the way to the castle.
Inside it are three princesses.
Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.
In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve
months sit about a fire,
warming their feet, exchanging tales.
They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
You may pick strawberries in December's frost.
Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where
you are going.
The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-
man will take you.
(The answer to his question is this:
If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to
leave the boat.
Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that
witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of your sister.
Know that diamonds and roses
are as uncomfortable when they tumble from
one's lips as toads and frogs:
colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.

Remember your name.
Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
When you come back, return the way you came.
Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.
Do not forget your manners.
Do not look back.
Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).
Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).
Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is
why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your
journey started,
you will recognize it, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden gate
you never saw before but once.
And then go home. Or make a home.
And rest.

More of The Jets, yay!  I posted about them a couple of weeks back and posted some fast songs.  This week it's all about the ballads.  Really excellent ones, if I may say so.  These five would be my favorites, mostly because they've got *ahem* memories attached to them.  Some of them, anyway.  They're also great for singing in the bathroom.

Enjoy and have a nice weekend!

W.H. Auden is one of my most favorite poets ever and hearing this recited while watching Four Weddings and a Funeral was a treat.  I always liked how straightforward his poetry was; somehow it was that exactly that made his poems memorable.  Even his most sentimental works always left me with this impression that he was trying to hold back this tidal wave of emotion.  There's always that restraint that oddly makes everything concise and crystal clear.  I'd say he's a man of few words, but how weighty and well-chosen those words are.

Funeral Blues
W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

I just finished reading Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen and I'd give it two thumbs up.  Great book all around: interesting story and beautifully-written narrative.  It's about a guy named Jacob who runs off with the circus.  He meets a host of characters including Marlena, who performs with the horses; August, her husband who's the chief equestrian something or other (it's a pretty pompous title that he likes to use); Walter the midget and his dog Queenie among others.  Love story?  Yes, and very interesting to boot, and safe to read out in public.

Another great book that has to do with the circus and love, and this time also with librarians, is The Giant's House by Elizabeth McCracken.  It's pretty old, I got hold of my first copy in 1997 or thereabouts and somebody borrowed it and never returned it to me.  Annoying, especially since I told her to take care of it because it was one of my favorite books (and it still is).  I eventually found another copy and I still read it every so often.  It's another beautifully-written book with lots of quotables that hit exactly where it matters; if I were the type to underline or highlight lines in novels as if they were textbooks, I'd probably have about half the book underlined.  It's about Peggy, a late-twenty-something librarian, who falls in love with a boy who eventually grows up to be seven feet tall.  Obviously a love story, might contain some parts that would need Kleenex, might not be safe to read out in public especially when PMS-ing or when you're in that needy-chick mood.

Common denominator of both books: apart from being love stories and involving the circus, the main characters of both books have half-pint friends.

So for those who are looking for unusual love stories, there you go.  Enjoy!  

I just finished watching the documentary The Great Happiness Space: Tale of an Osaka Love Thief, which is about guys who work in host clubs in Japan.  It has been ages since a documentary has kept me riveted in my seat like this (the last time was a couple of years back when I was watching this one on TVE about a woman who had herself operated on so that she'd become a man, down to the equipment).  It opens with Issei, who's the top host in a host bar called Café Rakkyo in Osaka and from there it goes into the kind of life he, his workmates and their clientele lead.  It's just brilliant, and a wee bit sad, too.

People interested in all things Japanese will love this, so will people into psychology and sociology.  Same goes for people who like watching movies, people who are bored and want to see something new, and people who are just plain trying to figure out what is it really that people want.  The documentary works on a lot of levels and it's some good fodder for thought.

You can watch the documentary here.

Show us your favourite candy. 
Submitted by TheFiercestCalm.

I've always loved this song, and it was a nice surprise to hear it in the movie Bridget Jones' Diary.  It's probably also one of my most favorite crush songs.  Uh-huh, queen of denial.

Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D major is probably one of the most recognizable pieces of classical music.  And also one of the most boring.  I remember back in high school, I would play it so that I'd fall asleep and I'm more often than not knocked out by the end of the piece.  So now, whenever they play it at weddings or whatever other formal events, I tend to get groggy.  My reaction to it now borders on Pavlovian.

That's beside the point, however.  I found Tribute to Pachelbel today that has just about every remix of the piece there is.  I doubt I'd be listening to all 50 (at last count anyway), but here are the three that I like best.  I also saved the best for last.  I wanted to cry when it was all over.  It was that good!  And something else at the end for comic relief.

I love Canon in D major again.  Yay!