very late in the day… but I spent the afternoon in the library so here goes:
In the library (by Charles Simic)
There’s a book called A Dictionary of Angels. No one had opened it in fifty years, I know, because when I did, The covers creaked, the pages Crumbled. There I discovered
The angels were once as plentiful As species of flies. The sky at dusk Used to be thick with them. You had to wave both arms Just to keep them away.
Now the sun is shining Through the tall windows. The library is a quiet place. Angels and gods huddled In dark unopened books. The great secret lies On some shelf Miss Jones Passes every day on her rounds.
She’s very tall, so she keeps Her head tipped as if listening. The books are whispering. I hear nothing, but she does.
While the cat’s away skiing under a sunny sky in Switzerland, the mouse… leaves her stuff on the table for days.
The mouse is very happy about that.
On the kitchen table right now
10 books: one on psychoanalysis and women, three on rhetoric, three on Angela Carter, one on racism, one about the influence of the big tech companies and one about Shakespeare’s The Tempest
a computer
a folder of notes and some photocopies
a provisional plan for next year’s lectures
the phone number of the finance office
half an empty glass of water
a jug of daffodils
a handmade quilted mat
a camera and spare lens belonging to a 6’2′ mouse at home with me, studying for his levels
a rucksack made of recycled plastic bottles containing my student card, a packet of Werther’s Original sweets, a tube of hand cream and spare reading glasses.
a pencil case
two diaries (don’t ask)
breakfast remnants, a plate, a yogurt lid and an almost empty container of organic blueberries
the house phone (don’t know why, I only get spam calls on it)
a half read copy of the TLS
various pens and pencils and highlighters
Mr M – the cat in question – would probably come up in hives at the sight… he’s an ’empty desk’ kind of guy, but this is perfect for me. If my mind gets full and fuzzy with one subject, I can switch to another, I have pretty flowers and a drink…
Normally this set up would be down in my basement room, but this week one of the boys was at home with me, and now another one has come back from his school trip and I don’t like to isolate myself and disappear completely.
The mess? nah… that’s not mess… I know exactly where everything is/why is there.
How is your work station/place/desk?
I always like to quote this to the husband when he rolls his eyes and moans: ‘if a messy desk is a sign of a messy mind… what’s an empty desk a sign of?’
Just to clarify, I have read this book in Italian, but you can find the English version in any bookshop (or here.)
I needed a break from heavy course books that, although enjoyable and fascinating, make my brain hurt a little and also I fancied reading in Italian again… you know… one wouldn’t want to forget the mother tongue!
This, as the title suggests, is the story of eight ‘lost’ books. Books we know about because the author themselves have mentioned them, or because at some point someone has read them or mythical books that belong to literal folklore… they all have in common the fact that they are no more… lost… vanished… destroyed by people of fires.
I don’t know you, but I like books about books and this is just the perfect couple of hours of escapism. It won’t change the world (a part from making you more careful with your suitcase when travelling and I’m also now saving my essay every couple of lines… just in case…) but it will entertain you for a while. And there’s nothing wrong in that.
Now is the globe shrunk tight Round the mouse’s dulled wintering heart. Weasel and crow, as if moulded in brass, Move through an outer darkness Not in their right minds, With the other deaths. She, too, pursues her ends, Brutal as the stars of this month, Her pale head heavy as metal.
I part read/part listened to this book and I’m really sad I’ve finished it. It’s an autobiography, a genre I’m not really a huge fan of, but I was intrigued and fascinated by her all through her stay at the White House and so, the hype behind the publication notwithstanding, I had to read it.
I’m not going to summarise her life here, read/listen (she reads it herself on the audiobook, which I think it’s great) and then come back and tell me what you make of it.
I think she comes across as smart, no-nonsense, hardworking, caring, ambitious, woman who knows her worth, who has strong morals and a huge sense of family and duty and an immense dignity, and who’s had to navigate being black and being a woman and being a mother and a wife in ‘unusual’ , for want of a better word, circumstances.
In my ongoing quest to use less plastic (and subconsciously drive the boys mad) I re-directed my attention to shampoos. Always in unavoidable plastic bottles (… I get it, glass in the shower could be hazardous… eye roll) and always needed. I understand there are people out there that advocated never to wash their hair… but I’m not convinced, even if I knew somebody who did just that and had gorgeous hair (and didn’t smell, I knew you’re wondering about that, I did). You can read an article here and follow various links from it.
My reason was not ‘I hate chemicals’… which a sentence I find ridiculous… let’s face it, everything is made out of chemicals, right? Water H2O… isn’t that a chemical?? I know, we all know, what people mean by that, but I am a tad inclined to trust ‘man made’ substances that are subject to rigorous testing and regulations. Obviously there’s a limit to all this, but my bug bear at this precise moment is unnecessary packaging so I’m focusing on that.
Enter the ‘shampoo bar’. Interesting concept, if you think about it it makes sense and at the same time if feels weird because we’re so used to fluids coming out of a bottle. A bit like deodorant or toothpaste in a jar… why not? We’re so stuck in our ways that it’s sometimes hard to even try thinking outside the box. It sounds a little tree hugging… but really, why? It makes sense… and when it’s gone.. it’s gone, nothing to recycle, nothing to throw away…
So anyway, there are hundreds of different shampoo bars out there. Just take your pick. Like with shampoos you might need to try a few before finding what suits your hair, by all accounts the biggest criticism I found is that they leave the hair quite dry… I guess it depends on your hair type and the bar you use…
The one I tried is this one. It’s called Living naturally soapnut shampoo bar and it’s main ingredients are soap nuts (which don’t contain soap at all but are actually berries from a plant in the lychee family, go figure)… totally organics and blah blah. Also, the plants produce the berries for 9 months of the year and they live up to 90 years…. that’s a lot of berries and not an intensive/soil destroying cultivation)
It works. It works like a soap (funny that), you wet it and rub it onto your hair, it lathers nicely and rinses off with hot water. And it works; my hair is clean and stays clean for a few days like when I use a regular shampoo. Once a week I use a tiny tiny amount of conditioner on the ends, when they feel dry. At the moment I’m still using up old stuff, but I’ve just ordered a conditioner in a glass jar… and once I tried it I’ll let you know.
The verdict? I’m very pleased and I’m not tempted to go back to plastic bottled shampoo anytime soon. Definitively worth a try!
You know what I need? A re-boot. If my brain were a computer I would press the three magic keys ‘control/alt/delete’ and start again… I feel totally disconnected and vague. More than usual, anyway!
I wrote this post this morning and forgot to press ‘publish’, so it’s coming to you late. Does it matter? Do you care? Is there anybody out there?
I like to tie the poems I choose to whatever is going on in my head or in my life so this week because I just finished reading ‘The Tempest’, by William Shakespeare for my drama module AND we’re studying ‘magic language’ in another… you’re getting this little funny thing by the Bard himself.
Also, it made me laugh and I cannot cope with anything deeper.
Song of the Witches, by William Shakespeare
Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the caldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble. Cool it with a baboon’s blood, Then the charm is firm and good.
This was an amazingly fascinating read. I don’t usually read non-fiction books because, let’s face it, I like to read to escape reality, not to dwell more on it… but, lately, I’ve had to do some research for college and/or I’ve wanted to find out more about things because I feel I’ve been ignoring the world at large for too long and only concentrating on my little patch… and that’s not good. Even if I love my little patch.
So, anyway, I’m taking a class on Internet Studies and it’s really interesting. I guess we all take the internet, the web, for granted… it’s ‘out there’ even though we carry in our pocket all the time, we rely on it for the smooth running of our lives, for our music and our shopping and booking our holidays etc… and we moan about it too, it’s evil, it’s ruining society… blah blah blah… forgetting that actually… the web is us. It’s us, human, who make it, who use it, who load it with data and perhaps if we’d use it more responsibly we’d get more benefits, we’d avoid the exploitations, we’d avoid the abuse… We made the internet, but it’s easy to forget that.
I’m wondering off at a tangent here, but maybe not… ok, this book, really well written in simple language by Dr Hannha Fry, is a really eye opener and a good introduction to these mysterious things that are ruling our lives (if we let them, which we always do, it turns out) and are all pervasive even if we don’t know.
Algorithms are behind the annoying Instagram changes, they’re behind the suggestions of programs on Netflix and in the pages of Google search. They label and order your holiday photos, they taylor the ads you see according to your preferences, the allow Alexa and Siri to do what you ask them etc. etc. Some algorithm will do a combination of things, some are rule based and constructed by humans… other are machine based algorithms and they come under the artificial intelligence umbrella.
Sounds scary? It is and it isn’t. I read this book fully expecting to pack my bags and move to a desert island live off coconuts and algae from the sea at the end of it… instead I’m left with a surprising glimmer of hope, so I think I’ll stay and fight on.
We just have to take responsibility for our actions and not dump everything, our decision making, our morality onto a machine to do it for us. That can only end badly.
In conclusion, it’s a really really good book. I think kids/teenagers should read it to learn more of the world they know (they think they know, at any rate) because it poses really good questions about the sort of future we’re making for ourselves, the dangers they might encounter. I think our generation should read it and perhaps stop the old adagio ‘in my days it was better’… because it wasn’t, not all of it anyway, and if we want to still argue about that it’s better we de-bunk the urban myths and be better informed, there’s still time to do our part.
But just as a word of warning… or a suggestion perhaps… next time that Spotify, or Apple Music, or Amazon, whatever… does the usual “oh, you listen to this… you will like that…” and highlights something identical/very similar to what you just uploaded… BE A REBEL, never cease to explore, to get out of your comfort zone, try something completely different. Don’t let it flatten you to one dimensional being just because it’s cozy and comfortable.
And now if you’ll excuse me I have a bed to make… no algorithm for that yet…
My head is playing up. I could rename last week ‘migraine week… and just when I thought my head was behaving … BANG… I’m reaching for the meds again today… very frustrating.
As a consequence I’ve been fuzzy all the time and well… something had to give: the blog was parked for a while.
Mr M and I watched the hyped ‘Fyre Festival’ documentary on Netflix. Oh my… what an extraordinary thing… when giant egos and the power of social media meet in a ridiculous (and for many people damaging) cocktail. If you haven’t heard about this it tells the story of said Fyre Festival, which was hailed as the greatest music festival ever, was supposed to be the height of luxury and ‘cool’, best music and location and accommodation, the place to see and be seen… except… it didn’t turn out to be quite like that…
Also, if you want to despair even more about the current state of things you can watch ‘American Meme’. I warn you… neither of them will fill you with hope.
On a more uplifting tone I’ve been listening to the audiobook of ‘Becoming’ the book by Michelle Obama. I highly recommend it. I’m not a huge fan of audiobooks… I find that if I listen when I’m running I run VERY slowly! but this one is good. Very interesting.
Took No 1 for a University interview last week too, which brought up ‘all the feelings’. Pride in what he’s achieved and excitement for him, his whole life ahead, full of possibilities and dreams… and a little bit of sadness for me too, that I won’t be so much a part of it. WHICH is the right way of things, and I really believe that,… but still… he’ll always be my baby, right?
I wanted to tell him so many things… enjoy the process, savour all the emotions, it’s ok to be fearful but don’t let that stop you, be sure of yourself but always open to others’ experiences, dream, work hard, play hard. Follow your instinct. Mistakes are lessons. Eat your greens.
In the end I just followed behind him, and probably just mumbled something about zipping up his coat because it was cold… I hope he understood there was much more to it than that.
while you're ahead... 