Later this afternoon I am going to begin re-reading Salman Rushdie's The Satanic Verses for the first time since I bought it at the Strand (12th and Broadway in NYC) in summer 2003. I claim Rushdie as one of my favorite authors, but I haven't actually read any of his work since reading Midnight's Children in late 2005. Thus I am excited to get back to him.
I have done hardly any re-reading over the past seven years while I've been in graduate school (except in those instances where a book was assigned in several of my classes or I assigned a book to my classes multiple times [e.g., Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close], and also when studying for my Ph.D. exams) because I have not had the time. This is a practice that I miss, because I almost always find that I gain new insights into a text the second (or third, etc.) time around. I like the idea of having a set of texts that one returns to for sustenance throughout one's life as reminders for who one is and where one finds beauty in the world. Religious persons would use the term "sacred texts" to label what I am describing, and I like this term even though I am not religious and don't really care whether a "God" exists (actions are what is important, not whether some unprovable supernatural being is out there or not) because it signifies the idea that some texts help us experience the sublime, the beauty of the world (which are both important concepts for secular folks to claim) better than others.
Texts that have played this "sacred" role for me in the past and that I wish I had time now to re-read, but do not, include Chaim Potok's My Name is Asher Lev, Rudy Wiebe's The Blue Mountains of China, Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, and Di Brandt's poetry. Two authors that I have been able to re-read and continue to re-read as I have the time are Walt Whitman and Samuel R. Delany, both of whom I try to teach whenever possible. In Whitman's case, it's much easier to find time to re-read a poem or two (or a section of "Song of Myself" as the case may be) than a novel.
Part of what makes it so difficult to re-read is that I am always finding new books to read as well. I have at least a dozen new books on my shelf (mostly novels) waiting for me. Certainly my book-buying addiction does not lend itself to contemplative returns to old friends.
Also, sometimes I love parentheses a little too much.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Monday, March 24, 2008
Thoughts on Robert Herrick's poetry
I possess a general dislike for literature written before 1816 (Frankenstein), but I've been reading some of Robert Herrick's poetry (1591-1674), and it's pretty cool (yes, even the over-anthologized "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time"). I am especially drawn to his treatment of the erotic in poems such as "Upon the Loss of His Mistresses," "Cherry-Ripe," "Corinna's Going A Maying," and the unforgettable "Fresh Cheese and Cream." (Would ye have fresh Cheese and Cream? / Julia's Breast can give you them: / And if more; each Nipple cries, / To your Cream, here's Strawberries.) These poems are humorous, almost light verse, yet they are also respectful and profound.
I am especially drawn to "Delight in Disorder," which describes the alluring nature of a woman undoing her clothing before sex. What intrigues me about this poem is that Herrick writes it as an employee of the Church of England, an institution which would certainly not delight in the disordering of things, especially when that disordering involved illicit sex. So Herrick places the erotic in conflict with the religious. The two combatants are closely tied together - the Church is obsessed with sex (what other natural activity has so many rules governing it?), and part of the allure of sex is that it is a traditionally taboo activity - but Herrick's poem forces the reader to choose a side. Do you prefer chaste order, or do you prefer the disorder of "An erring lace" and "tempestuous petticoats?" I know what my choice is.
I am especially drawn to "Delight in Disorder," which describes the alluring nature of a woman undoing her clothing before sex. What intrigues me about this poem is that Herrick writes it as an employee of the Church of England, an institution which would certainly not delight in the disordering of things, especially when that disordering involved illicit sex. So Herrick places the erotic in conflict with the religious. The two combatants are closely tied together - the Church is obsessed with sex (what other natural activity has so many rules governing it?), and part of the allure of sex is that it is a traditionally taboo activity - but Herrick's poem forces the reader to choose a side. Do you prefer chaste order, or do you prefer the disorder of "An erring lace" and "tempestuous petticoats?" I know what my choice is.
Labels:
literature,
poetry,
religion,
Robert Herrick,
sexuality
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Facebook and the question of religion
I've been thinking over the past few days about what I should put in the "religion" field of my facebook profile, if anything. When I signed up, my initial impulse was to put "fuck religion," but I decided against that since I still have a few friends who are religious. Then I thought about "organized religion=terrorist philosophy," which I am currently leaning towards, but which again may offend some friends who I would like to keep. So I am not sure. I suppose that just leaving it blank would suffice, but there's a part of me that dislikes this option because it isn't interesting enough. So any suggestions would be appreciated.
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