I try to savor poetry, to read it slowly and suck the marrow out of each word-bone. I ordered Distance of a Shout for school and read it all in an afternoon. It’s delicious. But poetry, like ice-cream, really should be licked slowly or there is the risk of a headache and tummy troubles. Unlike ice-cream poetry can be re-read and loved over and over. Also, it sometimes gets better with each reading. I don’t recommend trying to re-eat an ice-cream cone.
I think I’m in love. I stand here feeling very small and inadequate.
Now, yes, I have the amazing good fortune to get to do an Independent Study course on Women’s Literature and Religion. Hey, I did earn this opportunity with hard work. Good grades do, in fact, have tangible benefits. One of which is getting to (sometimes) study exactly what I most want and to (mostly) pick my own reading list and topic. An opportunity to order a massive pile of books as a legitimate educational expense was not lost on me. I could have taken the light-reading option and reused books already on my shelf. But then I couldn’t risk getting to know as many new books.
This was one I lucked out on. My prof put her on a list of suggested writes and I managed to find an affordable, English translation. It was also lucky to be the first book to make it’s way through the postal service to my mail box. I had had some intention of organizing my reading into a chronological pattern but then I will be waiting another several days for them all to get here before I can even start. And I’m too excited to wait. Also, this book looked way to delicious to save. Did I mention that I think I’m in love? Nothing mushy and Valentiney. This is more like finding the poet I should have been reading all along kind of love. Much as I want to keep this book in pristine condition I suspect it will be living in my back-pack and on the kitchen table and take a very long time to be put down long enough to be granted space on the bookshelf. Someday I’ll post pictures of my bookshelves and you’ll see….
almost feel bad sticking any of my own words to a post under her poetry. It seems so…small. In my defense this is poetry I can’t keep to myself. The best things in life are those that have to be shared because their joy is too much to hold alone. And this book is one of those.