Sunday, October 27, 2013

January 2013


JANUARY 20013

 darkness descending at 4:46pm.  Lovely visit with Barb and Ed yesteday and today.  Movie at the Red River Fritz Lang's forgotten classic "Woman on The Moon," which delivered just what the title promises.  1929 movie that Hitler suppressed.  One character looked a lot like Hitler without the moustache.  The evil character.  Melodrama, Love triangle, and space rocketry and Moon Landing and finding Gold and death.  Total  package.  Live electronic organ music accompaniement.  Longish, two and a half hours.  Dinner then at Old Europe.  Undistinguished there I'm afraid but enjoyable anyway. 
5pm Jan 1  Twitter is Over Capacity
later this evening--
Nicholas says Wendell Berry's address to NEH the most important such speech of the year---this passage caught
my skimming eye--
In my reading of the historian John Lukacs, I have been most instructed by his understanding that there is no knowledge but human knowledge, that we are therefore inescapably central to our own consciousness, and that this is “a statement not of arrogance but of humility. It is yet another recognition of the inevitable limitations of mankind.”6 We are thus isolated within our uniquely human boundaries, which we certainly cannot transcend or escape by means of technological devices.
citing from Last Rites , pp. 31 and 35

Why did I not want to take the time to read the whole (long) piece?  I feel I knnow what Berry says and I was put off by his use of two types and only two---the Boomers vs the Stickers.  It was the Jefferson Lecture for 2012. 
Phil on Barzun
At the end of his book, Barzun undertakes a bit of prediction and the result is quite intriguing and witty.  He says that scientists and technocrats and businessmen will take over, and the lingua franca of this new priesthood of the future will be mathematics, which will serve just as Latin and Greek did for the churchmen of the dark ages.  He adds that the future population in general will lose the ability to read and write.  He adds several more characteristics until it's obvious that he's describing a new dark age that he says will eventually produce so much boredom that a few bright lads will start to look far back in history to find ideas and art and architecture - in other words, there will be a new reanaissance and following world, just like the one from 1500 to 2000 that he has spent 800 pages describing.

Clever and sly.  Made me laugh, and he may just be right.

P

Finished Chapter 1 of Naked Singularity.  42 pages.  Like it though---full of firey life.  Characters, voices from the streets.  A night court NY public defender and six cases and the judge.  Bitter, quiet ironies, wit, humor, subtle, so far.  Blurbs on the cover say it is for people of liked "The Wire."  Does feel like that, in a good way not a derivative way. 

TUESDAY
Now it is Friday  Planning for the big dinner party tomorrow night. 
Meanwhile here's an exchange with Phil.  Few days ago, Chris Kline noted on Facebook how much he liked Papyrus Font.  Hmmm
Oh and today the 5k showed up in the CGSB.  Hooray
Possibly, probably, he wrote/dictated? it while going over his lifetime file of lectures and lecture notes from all the teaching he had done and his writing.  

I like your reminder that Barzun was French and therefore and immigrant on our shores.  I have long attributed to him, blamed him, for
my failing to have become a real writer.  He published a book back in the 60s or 70s---when I was very impressionable---that continued
the strunk & white school of teaching writing---I think Barzun's title was something like "Simple and Direct" .  Anyway, somewhere in
there Barzun says to the reader with his great (now that I realize too it was french) authority---"So, you think you want to write
a book, huh?  Well, I can teach you how to do that, if you follow my instructions carefully enough (of course you won't be able to), 
but first we must determine which of two camps you belong to:  there are those who have something to say and there are those who
simply want to have written a book.  If you are one of the latter, forget it.  Close this book at once, it is not for you."  

Well, I was caught red-handed.  Did I have anything to say?  I had no idea, nor any idea how one would ever know that.  I slunk off into
the bleak non-writer camp sunset.  

It was back in the day too, when I had no idea that these books we read even had each their own "tilt" on things.  I think then I thought that
all books shared the same general weight of authority---that went with having become Books.  !

I'm sure a number of Modernists had already given expression to the ultimate sort of wish for those days---"what does my life amount
to?---if only I were a book."    

I'm midway into Pessoa's Book of Disquiet and this is certainly one of his themes.  Early to mid-twentieth century.  

Postscript too----thanks to whatever---I never really really ever got into or got the French enlightenment writers---never have read Rousseau
and only a tiny bit of Diderot.  But I did gather that many of them the Church had condemned and banned.  I should sue the Vatican
for damages.  


On Jan 4, 2013, at 11:16 AM, "J. P. Jones" <jpjones33@hotmail.com> wrote:
It has taken a while - 400 pages - to discover Barzun's French tilt.  Or perhaps it's just the period I'm currently reading about, but Diderot is the key person of the 18th century, and nearly everyone mistundstands Rousseau, who was just a pragmatist with an interest in music, and the key person in the American revolution, which, of course, wasn't a real revolution since no king lost his beanie, is Beaumarchais, the author of the original Marriage of Figaro.  In the previous century, the English may have produced Oliver Cromwell and some poets, but Louis XIV's court and its artisans were the central personages.

Nevertheless, throughout the book are some interesting comments.  For example, about Moliere's Bourgeois Gentilhomme's rapturous discovery that he is speaking prose. "What he spoke all his life was not prose but speech.  Prose is a written form...as artificial as poetry....which took longer to develop fully than did poetic meters."

Yet, overall, this book is best suited for some college seminar on Western Civ.   Nothing in much depth.  Just a quick overview of damn near everything.

Phil

------------

Interesting memory chip there about Barzun and how he crushed my writer'y ambitions.   Poor Moi! 
  

EVENING of Weds Jan 9
Got chewed out at Barnes & Noble in Nashua today for taking photos of the place.  Not permitted by corporate policy.  Young woman who has been manager there for nine years.  Not very nice.  So I posted two of the shots on Facebook this evening to see if they will sue me.  No visible customers in either shot.  Shots of the architecture of the interior---which still manages to amaze me---who was it who proposed that building and okeyed it?  Granted it is a warehouse gussied out as a Roman barn/church, but its still so impressive and out of place there in poor wee Nashua strip.  Must have been the time back 17 years ago when B&N thought they were staking a claim to Silicon north of boston and they were going to do it right, just like Palo Alto.  Or something. 
Had a loaner car from Reilly while Viala got a 15k mile once-over.  So what could I think to do?  Drove to Nashua and looked in on Trader Joe's.  Very disappointing, glad I didn't drag us to it before this.  Lunch at Panera, nothing else seemed around.  Then the much looked-forward-to browse at a "real" bookstore.  Our mistress tagged me right in the first ten minutes, so that sort of ruined the browse and even so as I scanned the magazines and the store I could tell the quality had gone down and remembered that there never had been that much quality there to begin with, even twenty years ago.  Always a warehouse, B&N has been.  Made a point, then, to go back to Concord, have a coffee at the Coop and buy some books at Gibsons.  Bought one of those picture books of Berlin.  Back at the ranch in the afternoon, Va had had a good time at PEO and Ben had made good progress on stripping the bedroom wallpaper.  Tomorrow we swim. 

Friday Jan 11 
Night.  Day home.  Illusions of reading all day.  Instead frittered as usual but did work on Doctorcita and talked with Dawn Lemere at Ventureunlimited printing.  Created a new publisher, too, The Alexander Jerome Cosgrove Press.  Not as likely to run into any conflicts as "Laguna" might--maybe with the Pueblo.  Also firmed plans with Marga on Berlin---that is she says she is interested.  So my fantasy revved ahead and thought---maybe traveling with Marga and Donald would work--at least for the European capitals.  Va invited the McDs to consider both the capitals and Santa Fe in May.  Lovely written thank-you's from both Ken and Carole and Pat and Ted.  Was certainly a landmark dinner party, laughter primary. 

Sunday late afternoon
Want to copy this paragraph from the holiday letter that Jennifer Garlitz sent. 
"Since my last letter, we sadly had to say good-bye to the last of our dear grandparents, George (Grandad), who passed away peacefully at home in his sleep shortly after we all were able to share our heartfelt good-bye's with him via phone.  His attending nurse assured us that  he heard everything which gave us tremendous comfort that he was reminded of how much he was loved and appreciated before he passed.  Few have met a finer man, grandfather, father, story-teller and golf companion--we were blessed to have so much quality time with him! " 

Jennifer is being very sweet and loving and I should not take note of her stylistic fine points.  I'm glad Dad had such a loving relationship with Jennifer and her brothers. 

Have been wondering about Dick Mertens but there he is in the new issue of the Chicago magazine with an article---this one on vaccines. 

THURSDAY MORNING AT THE MANSE  JAN 17
I had fantasies of reading all morning, all day.  Virginia at the piano in preparation for her session with Colin McIver this afternoon.  Fresh snow outside, quite beautiful.  Beth and Ben painting our bedroom.  Paula has been here to clean.  Last night we saw le tout Plymouth at Keep the Heat On.  Dave Kent friendly to tell me about their travel plans for France in October.  They and McDs going to Paris and then renting a "barge" to boat down the rivers.  From there to St Maartens (again) and either this spring or early fall the camper trip across the desert of Texas using time-shares.  Meanwhile I regaled him "Back" with our plans to go to San An and Santa Fe and Berlin.  Wow, sounds so cool and brings out the competitive nature of the whole thing. Or just the faint strain of that in it all.  But there is that strain in everything, like all the multi-strandedness of our lives.  From Twitter I get news that Lars Iyer is speaking in Cambridge next month at the Coop bookstore.  I could even go down.  My vow to read only one book this morning (broken within the first ten minutes) was because I scanned a piece yesterday about the book called The Shallows about how the web has destroyed our minds.  But later I realized that for years and years I had practiced reading about ten books at a time.  I was longing for the invention of Twitter and did not know it.  But I can't see that I was ever longing for the invention of Facebook.  Some really good article somewhere in the past two months argued, pointed out, that Facebook is the Past (6th grade) and Twitter is the Future-Present, (that elusive "adulthood" we maybe long for).  Now that I say that I recall that some languages actually have a verb tense called Future-Present, don't they?  Does English?  I used to be an English teacher.  But then I used to be a lot of things.  Didn't we all.  "Most people are other people."  said Oscar Wilde. 

Got that from Disquiet.  Such a book.  Every other page bursts with brilliance of the quietest sort.  Maybe every page. 
Phil---holy cow--really did stop working and started writing at 46!  So he really did "become a writer," at least as we all thought it should have been done.  As I recall he took some classes in journalism and wrote that way for a while, tried various sorts of writing.  He wanted to make his living doing the writing but it turned out he liked writing too much---a classic line in any writerly interview.  My reply
well I saw 46 the other day and couldn't believe my eyes.  So from 46 to 60 you had a good spell of becoming a writer.  Makes a great part of your Interview.  Maybe we should do a full Writer's Interview and publish that somewhere.  Or have it ready for when this next book splashes across the literary reviews.  Could happen!  Brown mag might be a ticket to ride.  


Back from walk downtown with the photo album.  Gorgeous sunny day with the fresh snow.  Wouldn't really want to give it up for good for a residency in sunny flatlands, would I? 
So my jealousy of Phil or envy of Phil's career as a writer.  Would I trade anything for that?  Thing is maybe my morning vows would go somewhere if I tried to write as much as possible every day or most days rather than reading x for y unbroken spell.  I would not trade anything for Phil's life either at this point or twenty years ago because for one he had delusions about making his living as a writer and I have never had that thought.  I've always been about the dreamy aspects of the legend rather than the hardworking features. 

Why not just write?  Why worry because you haven't written? Who says "trying to write a novel" would not turn out like your other projects?  And so what if it did.  Do you regret the fifteen years of painting, of trying to be a painter?  For most of those years you were indeed a painter.  You painted.  You liked it.  Now you can be the writer you've always wanted to be.  You'll enjoy it.  No one really needs to know.  Or if they do, so what?  Nothing you can say about any of this holds any weight because you are at that brand new place in your life when nothing holds weight. 
What if you forwent scanning the web each day and wrote instead.  What if you gave over reading so much every day and wrote.  Blah blah blah blah.  Well, or maybe not.  If Lance Armstrong can cry on camera for the world and "rebrand" himself, like Tiger Woods and all the others, you can too.  If Robert Walser could sit down and write his books, if Elmore Leonard can, you can too.  Writing is such hard work, writing is such x and y.  You've read a lifetime of this creativity stuff, a lifetime of spiritual uplift stuff, a lifetime of everything. 
Virginia just called Marie-Therese.  She came north from Florida because she was suffering anxiety attacks, depression, hypertension.  So....hmmm, earlier we had snapshots of her running two miles every day and of Dick being impossible to live with.  Now the picture complicates in ways we can't figure out and can't opine about.  But it is clear evidence, again, that you never know.  No one knows how any one of us might collapse or turn or spring a leak or develop a condition or being subject to an event. 

Anticipate your four days in Berlin as wildly as you want.  Who cares?  What have you got to lose? 
These pep talks grow tiresome.  Repeated endlessly over the years.  I did write a slight, slightly snotty email to Andy Morgan today because he did not reply to my request for his address or to my having sent him Jeff's poems.  Said "guess you didn't think much of jh's poems."  But now I feel bad.  I should not try to excite the interest of these kids in Jeff's work.  I am not a publicist, nor was I meant to become one. 
A perfectly snowy snow day. 

Friday  Jan 18   Bright and cold.  Pessoa saved my ass this morning.  His passages about how perfect the novel he dreams of writing and what happens to it when he goes to his desk and picks up his pen describe perfectly the life I'm living these days.  The whole middle part of the book hits bells and targets and chimings at every turn.  #s 285ff
#291 "How I envy those who produce novels, those who begin them and write them and finish them!  I can imagine novels chapter by chapter, sometimes with the actual phrases of dialogue and the narrative commentary in between, but I'm incapable of committing these dreams of writing to paper . . . . . (page 250)
I did wake with horror at this thought---I could stay off the computer by writing everything in a notebook---the way I did for years and years.
#289 on the perfection and imperfection of King Lear is so brilliant.  Makes you swell with envy and swell with envy of your envy. 
I want to write these novels in the voice I hear when I wake in the middle of the night.  That voice should be the voice of these stories.  Of all stories. 
And I thought too---I need not worry about writing very much each day on these novels.  All I need is one or two sentences a day to be able to say with the proper toss of the head, Oh, I'm working on a novel. 

Pessoa and Walser on money: P: Money is beautiful because it frees us. W:  Only genuinely wasted money would be--would have been--beautiful money.
Post this to Esposito to see if he says anything about it. 
Main quote from this morning: How confusing it all is!  How much better it is to see rather than think, to read rather than write! What I see may distress me, but I don't consider it mine. "What I read may distress me, but I don't have to feel bad for having written it."   
"Although the day is gorgeous, I can't help but think this way.  To think or to feel?  Or what third thing among the stage-sets in the back?  Tedium of twilight and disarray, shut fans, weariness from having had to live . . ."  #285  (246)

SUNDAY about 2:30
Power back on after about a two hour chasm.  Last night we saw the hit movie "Silver Linings Playbook."  Loved it.  Virginia a little less so, not sure why.  I identified too much with the breakdown guy played by Bradley Cooper in Philadelphia.  Later I find out that the writer, Matthew Quick, got his b a at LaSalle University so I popped him an email asking if he knew Gerry Molyneaux.  On his website he's got quite a tale about how he came to finally become the writer he had always secretly wanted to become.  After a trip to Peru and the Amazon and elsewhere and finally quit his high school teaching job with tenure and started writing in his in-laws garage or studio or such.  In my role as the guy that the older actor, the raging bull guy, plays in the movie, I've been messaging Jon Link and now Brian Henry to proposed they publish a few of Jeff Herrick's poems and I'll put up $200 for the Andrew Morgan publishing effort.  I suppose they hat the idea, they won't reply to my queries and still I bug them.  I guess, just like DeNiro, I enjoy bugging them with something they won't even deign to discuss.  The importance of disdain---that great passage on disdain in Pessoa recently. 
Losing power really upsets me.  We've lost it so rarely.  Now it is windy out and beautiful, so clear and bright and sunny and blue and white.  We like the color of our new bedroom paint job.  Hope we can get it back to shape soon this week.  Virginia wants to try a big board under the mattress to make the new bed feel more like the old bed we've been sleeping on this week.
No reply from Marga yet---maybe she is off at a conference somewhere.  Maybe she's not sure she wants to go to Berlin after all.  Probably we are planning too far in advance.  Perhaps.  But they planned their big trip to the wedding far---and then had to cancel at the very last second when her mother died right before they were ready to leave.  Well, her mother demanded her due.  And wouldn't we all. 

Mother always took me to the doctor when I was a child.  At the end of the seventh grade my father took me to see his doctor.  He told him he wanted him to check me over and make sure I wasn't going to be queer.  I didn't know what queer was but it was something newspaper boys did while they waited for the delivery trucks downtown behind the post office building and Mother didn't want me to have a newspaper route even though lots of kids had them and made good pocket money that way.  The doctor gave me a simple once over and told Father I was ok.  Nothing to worry about.  The next year I tried to join the basketball team at St Margaret's grade school because my brother had been a star for it four years earlier and was now a star in high school across town for the Christian Brothers' high school, the same one my father had attended.  Father loved to tell tales about their days and once or twice we would go to the old folks home and visit old Brother Ephraihm who had been his teacher and they both liked to joke and kid.  We had eight years with the nuns, the Ursulines, the kind Mother thought she maybe should have joined and the Order her best friend in high school had joined.  They wore black habits, heavy wool, pleated many times and big sleeves in which they could hide erasers or other things.  Their faces were shelled in these big stiff white bibs and headthings, under the veils.  That last year of grade school I got put into a game finally even though I was chubby and couldn't                                    play or run nearly as well as my brother.  In the excitement of the game someone threw me the ball, my chance, and I dribbled fast as I could to the basket and made it.  I couldn't believe it.  Then I could tell all around me something was wrong.  Hot blood of shame poured down and up from the floor all over me when I realized I had made the basket at the wrong end of the court.  A basket for the other team.  I kept going to practice and the games because I had no other choice and people were pretty good about making fun of me without making too much fun of me.  My brother took to calling me "Honeysuckle" for some reason, mainly because it made me so mad.  I had a wicked temper sometimes.  Honeysuckle was the thick, sweet-smelling vine and flowers that covered the chain-link fence dividing our yard from the neighbors yards.  Sometime during that year or the next, when no one was home, I got a skirt out of my parents' closet that was made of black cloth that seemed a lot like the nuns' habits.  Heavy black and on top of that a gauzier black, like the veils.  It was a dress-up skirt for my mother and full when you whirled in it.  I put it on and made it swirl out and went around and around.  I was wanting to be a whirling dervish, I think, years and years before I ever heard there were such things.  My teachers then were men, in the high school, and they wore ankle-length black robes, the cloth seemed like the nuns' cloth but maybe lighter.  They had funny white collars of stiff white things that looked like the back part of a small paper airplane stuck onto the collar.  Mother wanted me to become a priest, I had known that for a while, and for years she woke me up early at six so I could walk a few blocks down to the church to serve seven o'clock morning mass.  This was supposed to be special and we even read a novel in high school about a boy who did the same thing.  Many times I had to go to the rectory and knock and wake up Father Longergan.  The housekeeper was not there yet or even if she was he could be late and very sleepy.  I served the mass and felt asleep half the time myself.  I would walk back home through the cold morning, eat breakfast and then go back to school in time for another mass a half an hour before the school bell, this one usually also a black mass for the soul of someone but this one also had more ceremony.  I had to light six big floor standing candles that stood on either side of a black fake-coffin, a wooden frame thing covered with a full black cloth with holy decorations on it.  It helped everyone remember that even though the real body of the dead person was not there the mass we were offering was for him, the dead person.  To help get him from purgatory into heaven.  At this time too we started to go to confession more often and with masturbation we had more to confess each week.  I didn't call it that and I never talked to anyone except the priest in confession about doing it even though one time after altar boy practice Jimmy Butler pulled out his thing and rubbed it and proudly showed us the white stuff that came out in a sudden bubbling action.  My cousin showed me that later that year too one day on the big porch in front of their house.  But after I started doing it I wondered if I should tell Father Lonergan but I didn't want to tell him so I would always go to confession when I knew Father Stegmaier was in the box.  I didn't know him and he didn't know me much. 
            In those early years of high school the family drama became more and more clear.  Mother wanted me to become a priest.  Father never said what he wanted but I know he liked the brothers and I never liked the priests as much as I liked my new teachers, the brothers.  I was in the middle in between them.  I was my mother's because Father had my older brother who was the sports star in all the sports and also liked to play golf like my father did too. And mother took me to the library to see paintings and to concerts that father never wanted to go to.  Father took me to the library too and later I started walkng all the way over there myself because I loved to read.  I got more and more prayerful in secret as high school went on.  Even while we had spin-the-bottle parties and then necking parties and then in junior year I started dating a little bit, first Eileen Keach and then Ellen Mary Waddell.  I liked her a lot and she lived over on the other side of town, her father was a dentist and I liked walking all the way over there to see her.  Mother hated the fact that we lived on the side of town where we lived, close to Father's store.  She knew the best people lived over near the Waddells and the Schweningers. 

-------
well, maybe that's a start?  Worry that I sound too much like Dennis, of all people? 
Just emailed or messaged Brian henry about jeff.  Of course he had noticed nothing, neither the poems I emailed (junk filter) nor the book from Amazon.  He's said nothing about the money offer for the kickstarter.  A few messages later and it sounds at least like he might do something.  At least he might give me an opinion on Jeff's poems.  And so maybe my efforts to get them some attention are not so underhanded or conniving as I had thought.  Maybe quid pro quo is nothing new in this world, even among poets.  Ha
I'm still easy prey for shiney magazines.  Bought a pile at BAM the other afternoon.  Wonder why that is?  Addiction of some sort, instiable promise of the new.  Envy of other people's lives.  Over imagined comforts of other people's idea of what to have ideas about. 
Power on when we got back from Wally's around 4.  Winds outside now almost 9 howling.  At the moment off in the distance and not directly on the house.  Almost time for the sunday night of tv. 
If I continue writing on these projects--the novel and the memoir.  What will happen? 

Monday Jan 21  11:41  Watching the Inauguration
Fixing lunch.  Cécile wrote Va that the Michigan trip might be off and that Emma has been sick for ten days and none of them have had any sleep.  Marga wrote that she can't join us for the Berlin trip either but that we're welcome to visit chez castañeda. 
Ben and Beth are putting the bedroom back into place.  Va wants to try a plank of plywood under the mattress to get it to be more firm.  Ben says he can do that easily. 
We'll see if we do get to Sevilla this trip.  Jane has given us dates. 
Emma sick.  Maybe they will not go to Michigan.  I hope not.  Blizzards and snows way too likely.  Maybe they will come later in the summer to see us and go to Austin too??  Cécile one time hinted something for next summer might be up.  Maybe too we will go to France at some other time in the summer or fall.  Maybe the Berlin trip should be short and sweet.  Berlin SEvilla and Madrid and save France for later.  Meanwhile Hotel Adlon Kempinski is offering atttractive prices for its luxury digs on the various sites.  My new strategy with the booking sites is to look every day or very often to see if that will snafu the alogrithims a bit. 
great short piece via Esposito of Sebald giving writing advice
I can only encourage you to steal as much as you can. No one will ever notice. You should keep a notebook of tidbits, but don’t write down the attributions, and then after a couple of years you can come back to the notebook and treat the stuff as your own without guilt.
              Don’t revise too much or it turns into patchwork.
              Lots of things resolve themselves just by being in the drawer a while.
Don’t listen to anyone. Not us, either. It’s fatal.
              It’s easy to write rhythmical prose. It carries you along. After a while it gets tedious.
              Long sentences prevent you from having continually to name the subject (‘Gertie did this, Gertie felt that’ etc.).
              Avoid sentences that serve only to set up later sentences.
Use the word ‘and’ as little as possible. Try for variety in conjunctions.
I think I write too rhythmically and use "and" too much. 
I like most what Sebald says about having something obscure in the work. 
              Fiction should have a ghostlike presence in it somewhere, something omniscient. It makes it a different reality.
              Writing is about discovering things hitherto unseen. Otherwise there’s no point to the process.
              By all means be experimental, but let the reader be part of the experiment.
              Expressionism was really a kind of willful avant-gardism after the First World War, an attempt to wrench language into a form it does not normally have. It must have purpose, though. It hasn’t really occurred in English but is very common in German.
              Write about obscure things but don’t write obscurely.
              There is a certain merit in leaving some parts of your writing obscure.

back to the Italian movie we started a few days ago---I may have seen it a few years back ---
Tuesday almost 2pm
Finally got the smack-down from Brian Henry I had expected all along for the whole crew and he came through.  Fine.  No more said on the matter.  I feel bad because I know I was meddling and couldn't help myself, in the name of "helping a fellow poet & artist" but perhaps really trying to needle and horn-in or promote myself as a "kingmaker" or "producer of hidden talents"  or some such. 
Bob,

Let me say this again, but in more detail: I glanced at Jeffrey's poems and saw that several would not work because of their unusual formatting and that only two of them would work because they don't use unusual formatting. This doesn't mean that two of them *will* work in terms of content, style, aesthetics. I mentioned in my previous email that I'd glanced at them briefly, which in no way implied that I'd read them carefully enough to make an editorial decision. I haven't had time to evaluate those two poems, and frankly I'm finding all of this rather off-putting. Verse isn't even open to submissions, and I am beginning to regret making an exception here.

Brian
----
So, ok, no further emails to any of them and an apology to Jeff, slight, because "the kids" didn't come through as I had thought they might.  There's my problem all along--thinking of them as "the kids" and feeling that old wound of rejection that hovers around Ethan Paquin and my whole attempt to advance his career through my correspondence with Rupert. 
Strange how one recycles all of one's patterns of being stupid, but then that's the definition of stupidity. 
Later he added this---which doesn't surprise me at all -- so I am doubly glad not to have replied to his earlier Chide and Ruler to the Wrist:
Bob,

I finished my lecture early and read both Herrick poems a couple of times. I don't like either poem enough to publish it. "O The I Sings" has some good moments, but I'm not happy with it overall. It seems to be trying to do what Andrew Joron does, but with less subtlety and less success.


Brian
=====
Last night we finished the Italian movie with Tilda Swinton playing a Russian married into a noble Milanese family.  Noble or just high bourgeous, manufacturing.  Ebert gives it 100%  "I Am Love" is the title.  Very haunting eroticism I thought.   Could not think of the title of Racine's great tragedy but of course it is Phaedra. 
Thursday Jan 24th
Ian and Virginia on the piano, howling gusts and bitter cold in the super bright sun.  Delightful evening with Ann and Dick Hunnewell last night at Lago.  Bitter cold at night in the house.  We slept back in the old bedroom and cuddled in our cocoon of blankets.  I relented and wore my silk watchcap. 
Today I feel much more comforted---the oil truck delivered about an hour ago and the check from TIAA showed up in the bank account.  woo hoo

Already Sunday night and we go to Boston and The next Day San Antonio on this wee jaunt.  Jan 27.  Bitter cold
behind us---for good we can hope---.  Very short video hello to Emma today.  She now says  "Hiiaalo"  The Houghton hold-up is about Jean and Guillaume getting visas in time.  Who knew French people needed Visas to come here.  Maybe they are for working and getting paid here. 





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