Parchment fragment on exhibit at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures.
Dead Sea Scrolls
“Queequeg, my fine friend, does this sort of thing often happen?”
“Queequeg” by Heidi Whitman (2025); seen at the New Bedford Whaling Museum.
From Chapter V. Breakfast:
But as for Queequeg—why, Queequeg sat there among them—at the head of the table, too, it so chanced; as cool as an icicle. To be sure I cannot say much for his breeding. His greatest admirer could not have cordially justified his bringing his harpoon into breakfast with him, and using it there without ceremony; reaching over the table with it, to the imminent jeopardy of many heads, and grappling the beefsteaks towards him. But that was certainly very coolly done by him, and everyone knows that in most people’s estimation, to do anything coolly is to do it genteelly.
And, yes, I will have reread Moby-Dick twice before the first quarter of the new year is behind us.
More books
Some recent acquisitions.
Today I am finishing my reread of Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying for the Roundtable course “Fictions of the Self in American Literature,” among other assignments for assorted courses and seminars. Before my Sunday afternoon runs away from me, though, I should also walk in the cold sun and practice my music.
Springlike
At the Lincoln Park Conservatory for the flower show.
Acquisitions
Lately among other projects, I’ve been making my way through the reading list for the Roundtable course “Fictions of the Self in American Literature” — currently, The Great Gatsby.
Feeling groovy
At the Chicago Botanic Garden last week for the orchid show.
Acquisitions
It is snowing and cold, perfect weather for reading. This weekend’s lineup includes assignments in Beowulf, Dante’s Inferno, and Gogol’s Dead Souls. I hope to finish Updike’s Couples for a Library of America seminar with Adam Gopnik and to get a jump on the capacious reading list for Arnold Weinstein’s course at Roundtable, “Fictions of the Self in American Literature.” In the interstices of these studies and music practice, I’m making my way through Carol Tyler’s gorgeous meditation on the nature of grief, The Ephemerata. (Review here.)
Rare encounters, ordinary birds
Above is my image of Leonora Carrington’s “The Giantess (The Guardian of the Egg),” seen at the Art Institute of Chicago on my most recent visit. Isn’t this something? Given the frantic activity at her feet, I suspect we should worry about her, but she seems calm in the face of the potential danger, almost maternal. I aspire to the tranquility of her averted gaze. This oversized protector of birds and eggs reminded me that I had not yet posted about my bird of the year.
As I’ve shared in years past, our family first encountered the idea in Rare Encounters with Ordinary Birds. Lyanda Lynn Haupt writes:
There is a game birders play on New Year’s Day called “Bird of the Year.” The very first bird you see on the first day of the new year is your theme bird for the next 365 days. It might seem a curious custom, but people who watch birds regularly are always contriving ways to keep themselves interested. This is one of those ways. You are given the possibility of creating something extraordinary — a Year of the Osprey, Year of the Pileated Woodpecker, Year of the Trumpeter Swan. This game is an inspiration to place yourself in natural circumstances that will yield a heavenly bird, blessing your year, your perspective, your imagination, your spirit. New year, new bird.
We have been playing this game for so long that we now rework the rules a bit to avoid getting the same birds again and again. And again. This year, because my younger daughter and I knew we would be in New Bedford, we determined that our birds would be the first we espied on our walk to dinner after settling in our hotel. Naturally, we encountered gulls, but because we are not quite as quick with our water bird identification, we landed on the peregrine falcon that soared into view, disrupting a previously unseen flock of nearby pigeons.
The Year of the Peregrine Falcon it is.
Butterfly haven
Are there any Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum fans out there? We have visited twice in the last four weeks and experienced much less activity in the haven than usual.
Comic
In late December, I visited the Museum of Science and Industry with my younger daughter. Although I am not particularly invested in the world of Spider-Man, I do count several graphic novels and at least two comic book series as among my favorite books; more, I recently read Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay for a Roundtable course, so I was more than a little enthusiastic about seeing some of the original art that hung in “Marvel’s Spider-Man: Beyond Amazing.”
Above is my photo of the original final page of Issue 10 of The Amazing Spider-Man (1963), famous, apparently, for Jameson’s soliloquy about his hatred of the titular character.
Nerdishly 