Sometimes words delight in eluding me.
Right now my brain is so full of choreography that I fear it will EXPLODE. Our recital is coming up soon--too soon!--and I have . . . nine pieces. I think that's more than I've ever had before. School is also wrapping up. In other words, I'm quite busy. And the sad truth is, I've done very little writing recently. I feel low on writerly inspiration, blog-related and otherwise. *glares at Daunting Proportions* But I have been reading, in those spare snatches of time. (And in snatches of time I don't have to spare. Heh.) So I thought I'd share some things I've been reading--poems, to be specific. While I can't write poetry to save my life, I do love a good poem. "Batter My Heart" by John Donne My very dear friend shared this one with me a few months ago, and I keep coming back to read it. It reminds me of Romans 7--that constant battle of the Spirit and the flesh--and it hits hard. The closing lines are just breathtaking (and ridiculously satisfying, because I have a Thing for paradoxes). "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson This one is so utterly tranquil--it's almost soothing. It is tinged with melancholy, but the poet is ultimately at peace with life, with death, with his Creator. It's such a beautiful reminder that death has lost its sting through Christ's victory. "If--" by Rudyard Kipling I highly recommend you go listen to Verses in Vox's rendition. "The Destruction of Sennacherib" by Lord Byron I love the imagery here. It gives me chills. Similes and such are hard to pull off (at least for me), but Byron does it so skillfully. "The Hound of Heaven" by Francis Thompson I saved the best for last! This one just crept into my heart and grabbed me. I memorized almost half of it just by reading it over and over. I'm not even exactly sure why it moves me so. But . . . it's so vivid . . . and . . . it's possibly one of my most favorite poems of all time. And I couldn't even tell you why. Help. How are words treating you these days? Have you read any of these poems? Do you have a favorite poet?
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This past summer I read Charles Dickens' Little Dorrit. It was a long but incredibly rewarding read, and I loved it. It wasn't as haunting as A Tale of Two Cities (can anything beat that ending?), but it was heart-wrenching and endearing in its own way. It has an intricate plot, tender and stirring moments, downright hilarity, and the sweetest love story. One does not hear about it as much as some of Dickens' other works, so I thought to spotlight it on this li'l blog.
If you know Dickens, you know one of his trademarks is a large cast bursting with zany characters. Little Dorrit is no exception. There are soooo many characters within this 800+ page novel. Languishing behind prison walls, parading high society, traversing the Alps, and lounging in French resorts, this is quite the diverse group. Our heroine, Amy Dorrit, is a picture of virtue and goodness. Born and raised in prison on account of her father's impossible debts, the only life she has known is one of privation and loneliness. But she never complains--she works tirelessly to make her father's lodging in prison a home and to secure a future for her older siblings. She totally forgets herself in love for her family, who are in turn selfish and inconsiderate. But Amy doesn't seem to know how to hold a grudge or do anything but imitate Christ. Many other characters are less than upstanding, however. Some are hilarious while others are terrifying in their extremities. As I read, I realized Dickens, in a way only he can, was painting a portrait of man's many follies in these exaggerated characters. And as I read, I realized I could see myself. "But I say. Look here! That isn't nice at all." I want to be like Amy, meek and forgiving. But in reality I am more like self-righteous Mrs. Clennam. I can relate to Fanny Dorrit's discontentment and envy. Even the detestable Henry Gowan's laziness is familiar. The Circumlocution Office isn't the only example in this book of How Not to Do It. I would do well to heed Amy Dorrit's words: "Oh, Mrs. Clennam, Mrs. Clennam, angry feelings and unforgiving deeds are no comfort and no guide to you and me. . . . Be guided only by the healer of the sick, the raiser of the dead, the friend of all who were afflicted and forlorn, the patient Master who shed tears of compassion for our infirmities. We cannot but be right if we put all the rest away, and do everything in remembrance of Him. There is no vengeance and no infliction of suffering in His life, I am sure. There can be no confusion in following Him, and seeking for no other footsteps, I am certain!" (Little Dorrit, Book Two, Chapter Thirty-One) After all, Jesus is the ultimate example of How to Do It! Greetings and salutations!
I'm Ruth March. Welcome to my little blog! I hope you find it full of kindred-spirit-ness. My aim here is to honor God while having bookish, writerly fun--with a heaping dash of Adventures in Odyssey craziness, because that's what you get when you're with me. :D "Books? You want books? Ha! We've got books on hairy otters, on onions, and on Mars. All the fungus you could care for plus three triple zillion stars. We've got books on flossing teeth, plus three books on tossing sheep. If we spent our lives just counting books, we'd never get to sleep!" ("The Great Wishy Woz, Part 2") |
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