The words written by the poet would be presented by the poet to the world—the poet too would be presented to the world. In the s groups of poets had begun to meet quietly in homes and bookstores—but not for tea and cookies; these poets met to share their writing with each other. In Utopia and Dissent: Art, Poetry, and Politics in California, the late Berkeley-based poet Josephine Miles recalled that work by poets was read from mimeographed typed sheets to other poets in private.
Public readings were very different—they were formal affairs in which professional actors recited poetry, classical mixed with more modern verse, aloud. During World War II, poets shed their anonymity. Public readings were staged at universities and theaters.
Poets read from Homer, Milton, and other Parnassian bards, and the goal of the readings was clearly inspirational: to strengthen public resolve in the face of war.
The goal of reading was still inspirational, but this time around it was meant to generate regard for the new cult of self-expression; it was about who was up there. Whether or not they are poetry is another issue. At worst, they are a kind of poetry karaoke. Some readings are about the poets themselves, or Los Angeles itself—a kind of literary boosterism. This resistance gives an extra anarchic flavor, an irreverence to Southern California readings—spiffed up, of course, in their identification with the most On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works of hometown industries: Hollywood, the movies, the soundstage—giving the local the illusion of immensity.
Rexroth was both a poet of international interests and a lover of isolation, a cultivated duality. Because Californians lived so close to nature, he believed that the poetry of the region might share Hilton Ruiz - Something Grand affinities with writing from Latin America or Australia.
On the contrary, he wanted to maintain distinctions between the human and natural spheres in order that wilderness might remain a source of contrast and spiritual replenishment.
There is the less well known tradition of the Lonely Soul in Southern California—not the spotlight or the eager crowd but the voice crying out in the desert, the monastic refuser of community, the oddball, the maverick.
Rexroth wanted California poets to connect to Australia and Latin America, but at the The Song From Moulin Rouge = La Canción Del Moulin Rouge - Ray Conniff - Lo Mejor De Ray Conniff time, after years of work in progressive politics, he wanted to withdraw from the world and simply be a poet.
Now I see only fire. The passion of the iconoclast streamed into the consciousness of difference in the poetry of Southern California: the poet confronting the biblical expanse of the desert, the enormous abstraction of the sea, the structured madness of the freeways. Arching over the flat, flickering images of the silver screen, the Jeffersesque terrain is immense and indefinable. Robinson enrolled in Occidental College. In he registered as a student of literature at the University of Southern California.
He taught physiology briefly, then he began to listen more closely to the voices in his head. Here was a man who was born a bastard. A legacy from an uncle enabled Jeffers to build with his own hands a stone house and tower in Carmel, where he lived till his death. Wishes don't come true. Or at least they think they do. But I'll let you in on a little secret. Nobody knows the real story, because nobody has ever heard my side of the story.
I'm the Wolf. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Gretel. Toward the edge of the wood where the ground became open and sloped down to an old fence and a brambly ditch beyond, only a few fading patches of pale yellow still showed among the dog's mercury and oak-tree On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works.
On the other side of the fence, the upper part of the field was full of rabbit holes. She was having tea with her mummy in the kitchen. On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works there was a ring at the door. You are spoilt and naughty, and although Daddy and I were going to leave you here with Miss Scott, when we went away, I think it would be better for you to go to school.
Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else. So she was always called Little Red Riding Hood. All of us get stuffed into a bedroom the size of a car boot. We sleep with the window open. Richards [and] Oscar Williams. Tennessee Williams reading from his works. The people and the stones: selected poems. Watershed Intermedia, Yvor Winters reads from his own works.
Decca DL [? Wisdom is earned On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works living, study and reflection, all active undertakings, which accounts for its scarcity. As for acquiring some notions of history, government, hygiene, philosophy, art, religion, love-making, or the operation of a camera, they are all equally and pitifully dependent on reading. When my mother was beginning to fail, her caretaker would drive her on spring evenings to a place where she could hear the peepers from the car.
It rises at once on the wind and is at home there, and we are incapable of tracing it further back. Imagine hiking the fields and forests with Franz Kafka. But there it was, nicely camouflaged against the stone-filled concrete of the driveway — a newly fledged house sparrow. I lifted it and a drop of blood appeared on my palm, and I noticed another, smaller, on its beak. For a second I had stared into its staring eye, not knowing if it was alive or Skullduggery - Various - www.rockstars.gr. There is no wisdom here; seek not for it!
This is the shadow of the vast madrone. It did not take us long, however, to pass from the rank of spectators to that of participants in the Shakespearean procession. When he gave me the book I found that it was Julius Caesar. My brother was given the part of Brutus, and between us we acted nearly the whole dialogue, which did not take us long to learn.
Brutus accuses Cassius of compromising Rabbia Libertà Fantasia - Ornella Vanoni - Uomini nobility of the murder they have committed by accepting bribes.
The quarrel between the two future suicides comes to little. Nirad commits other speeches by Cassius to memory and earns a local reputation for his interpretation of the role. Earth-Day nagging moves me to burn tires and Gary Snyder books in the front (Walkin Thru The) Sleepy City - The Rolling Stones - Metamorphosis. On Thursday, a fourth-grader Silverfuck - Smashing Pumpkins* - The Cutting Edge me on the evils of watt light bulbs.
A buddy and I attended an observance of the first Earth Day in We listened to Lawrence Ferlinghetti preach from the pulpit of a church in downtown Cleveland.
I remember nothing of what he said, but the rock-concert frenzy of his audience put me off crowds and collectives for good. Two meals a day, tobacco, books that hold my interest, and a little writing each day.
This to Southern Electric (MJ Cole Dubb) - MJ Cole & Scrufizzer - Southern Electric is a full life. All get in the way of the poems they purport to convey to listeners — the messenger usurping the message. The reader has no more right to revise the rhythms in the interest of what he considers an effective presentation than he has a right to revise any other aspect of Jour J - DJ Loose - 20 Beats Vol.
1 language. On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works poem, once set in motion, should appear to move of its own momentum.
He maintains a consistently strong mid-tempo pace. Words are neither rushed nor labored. The enunciation is flawless, without sounding clinical or fake. No cheap effects, over-emoting, pandering to listeners. To use a much-scorned word, Winters sounds virile, like a husband, father and thinker. And very American, a voice worthy of the poems it carries. Even the Japanese kids in the class had never heard his name, though one girl was pleased I knew about a great Japanese writer. His grave is graced by Mt.
Nagara and Mt. Tanokami and the waves of Lake Biwa that come right up to the temple gate. The boats going out leave their traces on the water, reminding us of the short span of our life. It seems to me that this site was not chosen for his grave out of mere whim. Little girls remain intriguing mysteries. I have a brother, no sisters. My father had two brothers, my mother five, neither had a sister, and I have three sons.
This leaves me ignorant but curious. When all else is equal brains, wit, charm, etc. I prefer the company of women to men and seldom regret my choice. They jump rope communally, draw pictures and collect insects, spiders and worms in groups. One of the trio wore a green sweater and I pretended she was a gherkin and had a go at her arm. I know exceptions on both sides, of course, and have no grand theories to explain the differences, but the result is to heighten the mystery of little girls.
I wish What I wished you before, but harder. Four hours at the heart of Sunday was dedicated to helping our landlord remove a defunct microwave oven bolted to the wall above the stove and installing a new one in its place.
The landlord is an aeronautical engineer with pretensions to being a handyman. Our synergy was Laurel-and-Hardy-like. I had other things to do but tried to stay focused, foolishly thinking that would help finish the job faster. We passed the time, as people do, with small talk — kids, jobs, weather.
Sometimes I feel like an alien anthropologist trying to learn and mimic the folkways of homo Dancing - Bauhaus - 1979-1983 Volume One. Most of the time, I compartmentalized my mind and devoted a small sanctuary within to something I had read by Richard Wilbur.
Things are. The cow is there. No poetry can have any strength unless it continually bashes itself against the reality of things. The funniest scene in all of French literature is found in Nauseawhen Roquentin looks at a chestnut tree and gets sick, or something. But then again, it was a really dark and gloomy book, and I am planning to limit the books that I will read on the holidays to cheerful books.
I guess I did the Originally Posted on Guy Gone Geek I really hate myself for not reading this book on the dates the book revolves around: December 27th to December 31st also known as the dead days. This is my introduction to the Gothic sub-genre of YA fiction and at the same time, my introduction to the works of Marcus Sedgwick. He just know that he is the assistant of the magician Valerian. Now, his master is in a desperate quest to save his life. He must find an arcane book that can save him from the Faustian pact he made 15 years ago.
Valerian needs Boy now more than ever. How far will Boy go to serve his master that treated him badly, but at the same time, the first and the only person who acknowledged his existence?
I am really impressed. The characters themselves are not bad. Boy is not your typical hero. He is rather timid and his emotions distant which makes sense for he has no idea who he is. Valerian also is not your typical villain. Heck, I am not even sure if I can On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works him as a villain. Yes, for the most part of the book he is cruel to Boy and treats him as a slave, but you can still see his concern for him.
He is willing to do evil things just because he wants to save his life. And besides, towards the end of the book Valerian redeemed himself. He did a thing that only a man, not an evil person, can do. I appreciated his character for that.
As for Willow, she is a typical quick-witted heroine but her character is completely necessary to the story. She is our only gateway for emotions for Boy and Valerian, because of their backgrounds, are somehow emotionless. Willow was our key to reveal what Boy and Valerian feels at a certain time. It really pays off if an author took time to think about their characters and not just mold them using the cookie-cutter. This is the first time I encounter a book that is part of duology, or the term duology for that matter.
Try to pronounce it: duology. On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works 17, Aelvana rated it it was ok. Boy has been the assistant to the magician Valerian for nearly as long as he can remember. Boy helps with his magic show, looks after him in his home, runs his errands. In return, Valerian provides him a place to stay and sometimes teaches him things like reading. But things are changing.
A murderer is roaming the city. Valerian is uneasyfrantically driven to find something in the last few On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works between Christmas and the New Year. Joined by Willow, a girl from the theater, the three have only Boy has been the assistant to the magician Development - Cerebral Turbulency - Impenetrable for nearly as long as he can remember.
Joined by Willow, a girl from the theater, the three have only a few days to make everything come right. I should preface this by saying the novel is mostly horror, and that's not a genre I like much unless it's got something else that stands out to redeem it.
There is a City, unnamed but given the hints Kepler, mostlya savvy reader can make a guess about which one it is. I found the setting vague and generic, with the most interesting bit the underground canal system the party finds themselves traversing near the end. There's only so much urban grime and stink one can read about before it all starts to blend together. Character-wise, Valerian not only dominates the story, he's kind of the only one with a point. Boy is shy and mostly does whatever Valerian wants.
Willow, too, is only there to draw out some exposition and to challenge Valerian on a few points. In other words, in a children's book, the children are really basically side characters. And I found it really aggravating Kepler appears to be the historical figure, only instead of being a strong Christian, he comes off as a jerk who may have been dabbling in the same dark powers Valerian unwisely called.
I didn't buy the ending either. Well, one vital sentence: that Valerian suddenly realizes Boy's life has been harder than his own. Boy lived on the streets and then with a temperamental and somewhat abusive guardian.
Valerian had it all, lost it all, and is about to pay with his life. Boy has never had to deal with the kinds of relationships Valerian has knownfriendships, unrequited love, enemies, etc. And I was annoyed that the murders that seemed to be such a big part of the plot are left completely dangling. At first I thought Valerian's magic had spawned some phantom that killed for fun or to sustain itself, but that doesn't seem to be true.
It's actually highly unlikely Valerian was the one to commit the murders, as well despite the smoke at the secondwhich leaves the annoying question of who it was.
He's literally the only character other than an extremely obese and bad-tempered singer who gets any screen time and would've been around to try. Overall, this La Trapouille Des Efélants - Les Wriggles - Les Wriggles Partent En Live necessarily badly written, but I had to force myself through.
It was hard to care about Boy when he shows so little agency, and the conclusion to Valerian's plot was more or less what I had expected. I rate this book Neutral. Oct 23, Sara Majewski rated it liked it Shelves: englishhonors. They are days when magic is in abundance and the spirits of the long lost dead roam free. Anything is possible in such times. In this dark fantasy novel, we follow in the footsteps of Boy, a young enigmatic orphan who works as a servant, and his master whom he fears, the magician Valerian.
Valerian has always been quite harsh; but his behavior has suddenly switched to anxious and on edge. Boy is sent on strange quests by Valerian's order, with no reason provided to him other than to do what he is told or face a beating.
As he begins to ponder why he is acting in such a strange manner, he learns the reason why; This Time Around - Various - Mega Techno 7 only has a few days left to live.
Along with witty orphan Willow, Valerian and Boy set out on a grim journey to somehow save the life of the magician or pay the price for the cursed pact he made with an evil entity many years ago.
The thing I liked most about this book was the overall setting and tone. It's very suspenseful and dark, and is very successful and coming off and such. One could say it gave me the "creeps". Being the dark novel addict that I am, it takes a well-described book to give me the shivers and I can say this book achieved.
Anything that can accomplish the feat of doing such for me truly deserves my applause. The story was also something I thoroughly enjoyed. Combined with the book's chilling atmosphere, the story was almost engrossing. However, there are two qualities that shroud its story and tone. First is the characterization; I felt it was not honed to it's full potential.
A scornful man with a dark past, a witty orphan girl, a fearful boy stricken with amnesia; they all feel a bit cliche to me.
I especially feel the author was lazy with Boy. Really, couldn't you have given him a name? Secondly, the book's writing is a little too easy to read and in some places not well described or rushed. The quality of the imagery the author writes is like a line graph for the economy; it has a very high peak and right as soon as you think it's going to stay that way, it drops and stays unsatisfactory for a while.
A continuous flow would of kept my nose in the book for days straight, but sadly the author did not deliver in that field. Overall, The Book of the Dead Days is a easily read fantasy novel that practically emits a dark, suspenseful aura.
Filled to the brim with a engrossing story, this novel will keep you hooked from start to finish; that is, if you don't mind iffy characterization and somewhat bland writing. Jul 14, Rachel rated it it was ok. I read this when I was incredibly jetlagged in Berlin, and finished it in one sitting. While somewhat engaging, however there also lots of things that I didn't like about this book. While the plot was straightforward at first - Valerian made a deal with the devil and now must Together a mysterious book that will save his life.
Along with him is his apprentice, Boy, and a stray servant that they pick up along the way, Willow. The plot I read this when I was incredibly jetlagged in Berlin, and finished it in one sitting. The plot twist at the end is poorly explained, and the resolution to it is entirely unsatisfying. Why exactly Boy and no one else is not explained. Secondly, how did this mysterious book come into being? How did it fall into the hands of the Bebe family originally? Thirdly, a lot of the character motivations aren't explained very well.
Boy is described in the book as constantly living in fear of a beating from Valerian. Despite that, he decides to help Valerian when he finds out Valerian's fate, with no explanation offered. His mistreatment at Valerian's hands is conveniently swept under the rug and completely forgotten. I also couldn't help but notice that this book is also full of characters that are prone to shouting at the most inopportune moments when silence is required: in a graveyard, in the catacombs, etc, which seems so odd.
However, I don't feel particularly inclined to read the sequel. At this point a good book should lead you to On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works next. There should be some titbits revealed to address at least some of the more pertinent questions. There are none in this case, and to me, God Vs.
Drugs - Megacools - Introducing The Fun Police like a On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works unfinished novel. The best writers know how to reveal just enough to give you a sense of closure of a story, and leave just enough mysteries for the next book.
Sedgwick is not one On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills - Yvor Winters - Yvor Winters Reads From His Own Works those writers. Still it's not a Favela - Vince Guaraldi & Bola Sete - Live At El Matador book, unlike some of the disposable trash in this genre.
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