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Have at it, y'all.
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I meant to mention this a couple of weeks ago. After reading the book, I wanted to see the film, and did. I'm talking about the 1949 one, with Broderick Crawford as Willie Stark. Three-word opinion: it's pretty good. Slightly more expansive opinion: it doesn't do justice to the book, which of course you wouldn't
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EPIPHANY POEM The red kingCame to a great water. He said,Here the journey ends.No keel or skipper on this shore. The yellow kingHalted under a hill. He said,Turn the camels round.Beyond, ice summits only. The black kingKnocked on a city gate. He said,All roads stop here.These are gravestones, no inn. The three kingsMet under a
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Fr. Michael Rennier at Dappled Things has some good remarks on the poem and on Epiphany, along with two readings of the poem, one by Eliot himself and another by Alec Guinness. Guinness has by far the more appealing and skillful voice. But I think I have a slight preference for Eliot's reading; somehow it
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I think we have one of her books on art but I've never spent any time with it. As I've often mentioned here, my interest in the visual arts is considerably less than my interest in literature and music. She died the day after Christmas and this 2006 interview was reprinted in the Catholic Herald.
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And this time I really mean it. (But I'm going to continue the blog; more on that in a moment.) It's always funny to see someone make a decision, then change his mind, then change it back again. Those who have been reading this blog for a long time know that the Sunday Night Journal
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THE HOUSE OF CHRISTMAS There fared a mother driven forthOut of an inn to roam;In the place where she was homelessAll men are at home.The crazy stable close at hand,With shaking timber and shifting sand,Grew a stronger thing to abide and standThan the square stones of Rome. For men are homesick in their homes,And strangers
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It must be close to twenty years ago that I wrote a science-fiction story in which Christmas had been replaced by "Holiday." (That wasn't a major part of the story, just a passing remark by a character.) I thought it was clever at the time, but it soon became an interesting and personal reiteration of
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MIAMI WOODS (excerpt) Sage monitors of youth are wont to sayThe eye grows early dim to nature’s charms,And commerce with the world soon dulls the earTo heavenliest sounds. It may be so; but I,Whose feet were on the hills from earliest life,And in the vales, and by the flashing brooks,Have not so found it: —deeper
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I have to report that I'm not enthusiastic about Phillip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle. On the basis of this and the one other PKD novel I've read, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, I guess I'm not enthusiastic about his work in general. In both cases, however, I read the book after having
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Light On Dark Water 