Recent acquisitions

Over the weekend, I finished two books for the Wilder seminar — By the Shores of Silver Lake and The Long Winter. I also finished rereading Beloved for a Roundtable course. Today I began The Enigma of Arrival (V.S. Naipaul; 1987) with APS Together and worked on the first section of Mrs. Dalloway (Virginia Woolf; 1925) for a new Roundtable course. This evening, before the final meeting of the seminar on the Old Testament with Marilynne Robinson, I set aside the required reading list for a bit and read another hundred pages in The Every (David Eggers; 2021), the follow-up to The Circle (2013), which I reread with the Commonplace Philosophy book club last month. Several participants recommended the sequel, and after a slow opening, I am now engaged (if pretty certain that this can conclude in only one way). I will catch up on this month’s book club selection, You and Your Profile: Identity After Authenticity (Hans-Georg Moeller and Paul D’Ambro; 2021), tomorrow.

Reading

Pictured above are a few books I ordered after reading about an in-person Graham School course that interests me. I won’t be able to participate, but I plan to ask the instructor to share the syllabus.

Tomorrow night is the penultimate meeting of an NYR Seminar with Marilynne Robinson. This week’s reading focused on psalms. I’m also keeping up with the reading for Jared Henderson’s philosophy book club and the assorted courses I’m taking with Roundtable.

A blizzard warning just sounded on my emergency alert app. Coffee? Check. Books? Check. All will be well. In a neat readerly intersection of life and books, I just finished By the Banks of Plum Creek (Laura Ingalls Wilder; 1937) for a Newberry Library seminar. This, the fourth in Wilder’s series, ends not long after a three-day blizzard. Next up? On the Shores of Silver Lake (1939).

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.

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.

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.