Passages

If I've done this thing incorrectly, someone please let me know.

You know how certain paragraphs, sentences, or even phrases will stay with you long after the book is closed? To me, those ideas are the reason I keep reading.

One of my all-time favorite passages is from The Little Prince by Saint Exupery: "My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing... They always need to have things explained."

What are some of your favorites?

I was... well preteen when I read Earthsea.

"For a word to be spoken, there must be silence, before, and after."

and suddenly there was a whole new way of looking at things. I did not understand it because at that age I was of course immortal but I knew that I would come to understand it.

the Harry Potter series is one of my absolute favorites, and there's some pretty incredible philosophical insight in there if you pay attention. One of my favorite quotes is from Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: "Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

Hi Simon, I remember reading somewhere that "moments of silence are part of the music." Do you think this is what Le Guin meant? Literally, there must be silence for a word to be spoken and there must be a break before and after to separate it from other words. But I know there's something more in there and I'm not quite sure I'm grasping it. What did it mean to you?

COL, I have to admit I haven't read Harry Potter, either. I bought it, but just haven't been drawn to it yet. I think I get the gist of this quote, though. I can understand that just the name of something feared would conjure as much fear as the thing itself. I hadn't thought of it as increasing the fear, but the more I think of it, I think it's true. Thanks for sharing it.

Oh It seems I should have included more... that quote was the reply to a question.

"What of death?"
"For a word to be spoken, there must be silence, before, and after."

Sorry to be so obtuse. :) I get it now! Thanks.

Here's another one from my collection, written by Roald Dahl from The Minpins:

"...And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."

My favourite opening para from a book is this one -

"Night fell. The red waters of the swamp grew sinister and sullen. The tall pines lost their slimness and stood in wide blurred blotches all across the way, and a great shadowy bird arose, wheeled and melted, murmuring, into the black-green sky."

(W E B Du Bois, The Quest of the Silver Fleece).

Hi Nick, Your's is very atmospheric. I love when words are used like this, when it takes only a few to create such a well-defined picture. Spooky spot, though. :)

Well thank you kindly.

It is pretty cool - not a passage you`d read and forget.

According to the second Mrs Du Bois (Shirley Graham/Shirley Graham Du Bois), WEB`s then boss at the NAACP, Joel Springarn, read the book and urged him to move to Europe, feeling that his literary skills would be better appreciated there.

Mind you, if I had someone as grumpy/thin-skinned as WEB working for me, I`d urge them to emigrate too !

I`ve liked everyone else`s choices for this thread so far, in fact I think it`s the most interesting idea anyone`s had on LT to date.

Thanks, Nick. I hope it catches on! I'm looking forward to all the passages that I've missed because my own reading didn't take through that terrain. So far, there have been 3 out of 3! :)

I hope all of you will share others. I have quite a store of them, but I will try to keep a lid on it!

Here is one of my favourite passages from the The Analects (Lun yü), XI.12:

Chi-lu asked how the spirits of the dead and the gods should be served. The Master said, ‘You are not able even to serve man. How can you serve the spirits?’

‘May I ask about death?’

‘You do not understand even life. How can you understand death?’

Hi openset, So the Master is saying that death and the gods are much more complex and harder to grasp than life and the living. I would have thought just the opposite. To me, life is the astounding thing. I'm going to have to think about this one for a bit; it's very interesting. Does anyone else have a thought on it? Agree/disagree? Just curious.

Actually, I had a different slant on it - my interpretation was (paraphrasing badly) "understand life before you even attempt to understand death", i.e. you will not come to understand death unless you first get to grips with life.

We`re in deep waters here, but I wouldn`t see the statement as contradicting your philosophy that "life is the astounding thing".

Any thoughts ?

I've always enjoyed the deep end of the pool. You don't scrape your knees as much. :)

I think you're right about the interpretation. I have to say, though, that life being as it is, so hard to fathom, it might take a looooong time to get around to considering death. Maybe that's the point. We should have our minds on life and not death. I think that's a good plan.

Openset, what is your take on it?

Although Confucius did recognize the importance of ancestral worship and its relation to the rites, as well as principles like the Mandate of Heaven, he was reluctant to talk about religion or the afterlife. This is one of the famous passages where he tries to avoid discussing it.

I agree that it's not about the lack of depth compared to death, but about the all-absorbing aspects of living. Living the life of a gentlemen, and being benevolent, is a full-time job, and if we are focused, we won't have much time to worry about what the spirits are doing. Helping your fellow man is more important in the here-and-now. Yet he's not saying we should totally ignore the dead. For example, he says several times that it's correct to mourn the passing of your parents.

On the other hand, you could argue that the meaning of the passage is that the sage or gentleman will know what is required of him by Heaven and the spirits by applying his learning of what is needed of him in life. Compare this to III.3:

The Master said, 'What can a man do with the rites who is not benevolent? What can a man do with music who is not benevolent?'

I love Confucius because what at first appears simple can have many subtle layers of interpretation to it.

Well said, openset. Wouldn't it be lovely if everyone adhered to that philosophy? I haven't read the Analects in a few years and have forgotten quite a bit. I do remember the many layers. At one time, I had decided he was just a bit too vague; that I was reading him with my own particular slant, imbuing his work with my own ideas of right and wrong, and that he was encouraging that perception of his work by not being specific. It's as if he was unwilling to give an answer, but instead wanted his disciples to determine the path for themselves. Do you feel that at all?

lorsomething, that's a good point. I agree with you that it can be easy to make Confucius a mouthpiece for your own viewpoint, like with Nietzche. I think something like this did happen in Chinese politics at some point. All it takes it some selective quoting of some of the more metaphorical or comparative passages to give a misleading impression. I also wouldn't be surprised if a person in his 20s and one in his 60s would have some disagreements about him. He's a man of his times, so he's writing mostly for a male audience. The role of women in Confucius' philosophy isn't always clear either, I think.

Also, it's not always clear, by reading a few passages, what he meant by benevolence, the technical responsibilities of the rulers over the ruled, and so on. In a few places he talked about following the Way, but wasn't clear always what that meant in concrete terms. I guess we have to explore Lao Tzu for that one. I know he also put high praise on the Odes, which are poems and may again lead to some vagueness.

I seem to remember that Confucius made clear that he liked students who asked probing questions, but also ones who would go and try to figure out things for themselves before asking for more clarification. He also didn't claim he had all the answers, so maybe he was probing around cautiously in a vague way. I bet it also doesn't help that it appears there was some corruption in some of the chapters (according to Lau).

Maybe he recognized that circumstances dictate what is necessary for each moment. He was flexible, but not bent.

Strangely enough, there are passages, as you will remember, that are very specific too, probably being based upon ancient falial traditions.

So much of the Analects is stuck in historical context. My guess is that if we did a more exhaustive study of Chinese literature we'd understand what Confucius was saying at any given time. What do you think?

I read an interesting article online once about connections found between Kant and Confucius. If I find it again I'll post the link here. I think it illustrates exactly what you are talking about.

Can you give some examples of right and wrong that Confucius seemed to be vague on? I'd be interesting in looking up those passages and seeing how I would interpret them. You really got me thinking now.

As you can probably guess, I've never studied Chinese literature. I do love a few of China's poets (especially Po Chu'i and Li Po). But even then, I only remember those things that touch me in some way. At one time I read a lot of Lao Tzu and still go back on occasion. I preferred him to Confucius at that time. As I said, it has been a while since I read the Analects. When you mentioned the passages in your post, I got out my copy to look them up, so while I have it out, I will browse through it a bit. I think there's a chance I may learn more here than I ever did on my own.

Sorry, openset. I haven't had time to browse yet. I'm always like this. I think of a million things I want to do and the things I have to do take precedence. But don't give up. I'll be back. :)

The wost thing about LT is all the recommendations I pick up for further reading, when I`ve hardly got the time for the books I already have ! I must try Confucious though.

Thinking laterally ( I do this a lot ) do you two (or anyone else) like Plato ?

Also, anyone else got any passages to share with us ?

Openset, thanks for your patience. I'm back. I took some time this afternoon to wander through the Analects and the Tao. I'm glad you brought it up. It was enjoyable. While I read, I began to remember the reasons I preferred the Tao to the Analects. I kept stumbling across principles in the Analects that seemed very much a product of their place and time, that would have little bearing on a less structured society, or even a differently structured society. I agree with you that Confucius was a great thinker. I remember an old Chinese adage (which may have come from one of these works, I can't remember where I saw it) that went "when there is peace in the household, there will be peace in the world." I think that sums up Confucius's writing. He seemed to believe that reformation begins at home. I agree with him on that. But he was very concerned with the minutia of daily living, the venerated rites and customs of his own society. That was as far as he went. While the principles can be applied to any time period, some of them seem not to migrate as well as the Tao. It seems more universal to me. And, too, the society he envisioned is lacking in my opinion. While polite and kind and beneficent, there was no room for individuality. He seemed intent on ridding his disciples of their egos. I am not saying that his precepts were bad ones, only that the stopped a bit short. They seem to deal more with the outer man and not the inner one (i.e. manners, image, position, etc.). I'm sure Confucius himself was a thinking, feeling person, but I wonder a little about some of his disciples. Did they perform the rites with feeling? Or were they worried about the letter of the his law? These were just a few of my thoughts as I read and they are limited to what I know of their society, which isn't much. But his non-answers aside, he was a truly great man. I have to say, though, I took special exception to the line : "Do not accept as friend anyone who is not as good as you." I was surprised to learn that such a person might exist. :)

I know you see this differently than me, so please share what you see. I need to see both sides.

Nick, My read list has assumed its own identity. :) I haven't read much of Plato, though I am familiar with his cave. Should I give him a try?

Oops, yes, we've diverted a little bit. Sorry about that.

lorsomething, that was a good summary. Actually I generally agree with your points about the focus of Confucius and it's possibly narrow applicability. In my reading of him, I was compelled to take away certain things and discard pieces which may not apply to me. In other cases, such as with the rites, I was forced to look at what represent the "rites" in my society today, and how they apply to the morality of the people, if at all. I won't deny, this is something I'm still struggling with.

You are also spot on that Confucius seemed more interesting in actions than ideas and thoughts in measuring the worth of a man, and so the inner-life was not addressed much. It seems we have to find our own way in that regard. You bring up an interesting point about the disciples. I don't know what became of them afterwards, but maybe there is some literature that they penned of their own ideas. Maybe we can find out just how interested they were in flash over substance.

I don't think you and I are very far apart in our opinions ;).

nickhoonaloon, I read some Plato when I was in university, but I haven't touched the Republic in ages, so I don't know how well I could talk about it now. Nevertheless, I have a soft spot for him... No doubt, The Trial and Death of Socrates is still applicable today.

Ok, I admit it, I'm a complete sucker for quotes from Dumbledore, the man is (probably intentionally) the Merlin or Gandalf of the Harry Potter series. Upon leaving the Dursley's house at the beginning of book six, Dumbledore turns to Harry and says "And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." Which, in my opinion, just sounds plain bad-ass.

openset, you certainly adhere to the practices. You didn't point and laugh at my convoluted summation. :) (I think I should avoid re-reading these things.) I like your approach to his work. I think it could be applied to any reading, something to help keep us from getting bogged down.

Nick, Would you mind sharing something of Plato? We barely grazed the classics when I was in school, so I haven't read The Republic. Do you think it is a must-read?

col, I love this quote and it's going in my notebook! Thanks!

lorsomething, openset etc

A bit busy at the minute, but a couple of hasty thoughts on Plato. Personally, I`m not keen on either The Republic or The Symposium. I live in hope that I will grow to appreciate them more, but at present, The Republic to me is a blueprint for an ideal society (stating the obvious I know) - we don`t live in an ideal society, we never will and even if we did, it wouldn`t be this one !

The Symposium deals with a type of love peculiar to Ancient Greek society, and it just seems to abstract to concern myself with the questions it raises one way or the other.

I have Protagoras and Meno, Gorgias, The Last Days of Socrates and one or two books about Plato (C E M Joad etc). Some of the earlier ones are, well, early works but I like them despite their shortcomings.

As yet I haven`t found a suitable `Socrates Soundbite`to stay with the `Passages` theme, but I`ll work on it.

Sorry this is a rather hurried response.

Nick, thanks for your viewpoint. And not to worry. I'm sure I can find something around here somewhere by him, even if I have to settle for Bartlett's.

This one is from Out of Africa by Isak Dinesen.

"I felt my heart filling with the love and gratitude which the people who stay at home are feeling for the wayfarers and wanderers of the world, the sailors, explorers, and vagabonds."

From The Adventure of the Devil`s Foot by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Dialogue between Holmes and a suspect -

"How do you know that ?"

"I followed you."

"I saw no-one."

"That is what you may expect to see when I follow you."

I've always enjoyed that bit of Holmesian dialogue, as well, Nick. I think of it whenever someone in a book I'm reading is being followed.

The earlier discussion here about life and death makes me think of Blake's Contraries, together with the notion that one can only know something by knowing its opposite. I find that these lines, from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, often come to mind:
"Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence."

There's a lot of wisdom in Blake, I think. Does anyone else have other favorite Blake lines?

Or favorite lines of poetry, just in general? (We could probably start a whole new thread just for that!)

Maggie, I'm sorry I've been so long in answering. I had hoped someone who was conversant in Blake would take you up on your challenge. I have read him and own a couple of books, but I have never gotten up close and personal with him. :) I might have, if my attention hadn't been drawn away by another poet on the same shelf. What I have read of him, I have liked very much, though.

I think your idea about the poetry quotes is a good one. Why don't you start us off?

I've pounced and started the poetry thread myself, I hope people will have things to add.

I'm going to dive in with a passage from a book, Dune by Frank Herbert. Rather than from the main body of the Text, this is one of the metaquotes from the chapter headings ...

"Muad'Dib learned rapidly because his first training was in how to learn. And the first lesson of all was the basic trust that he could learn. It's shocking to find how many people do not believe they can learn, and how many more believe learning to be difficult. Muad'Dib knew that every experience carries its lesson."
from The Humanity of Muad'Dib by the Princess Irulan

"The lingering afternoons of late summer have a special charm. After the burning heat of midday, with our struggles to finish our work in spite of the temperature, the sun passes the peak of its power, and the day seems to slip into an endless tranquility of long shadows, katydids, and leisure. There seems to be time enough for anything; time to read, time to talk things over, time to visit, time to remember. It is as if there is a permanence in this golden period that makes life stand still, as if the day will never end."

From: The Long Afternoon by John Kollock. (The touchstones aren't working for this one. I think it may be a bit too regional.)

From Dominic by William Steig:

"That road there on the right goes nowhere. There's not a bit of magic up that road, no adventure, no surprise, nothing to discover or wonder at. Even the scenery is humdrum. You'd soon grow too introspective. You'd take to daydreaming and tail-twiddling, get absent-minded and lazy, forget where you are and what you're about, sleep more than one should, and be wretchedly bored. Furthermore, after a while, you'd reach a dead end and you'd have to come all that dreary way back to right here. Where we're standing now, only it wouldn't be now, it would be some woefully wasted time later."

LOL I have taken that path.

Simon

I didn't start out on it, but I seem to have ended up there. Yaawwwn...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. :)

And from Hobberdy Dick by K.M. Briggs:

"Where be all the world?"

From "Our Town" by Wilder

"Now there are some things we all know, but we don't take'm out and look at'm very often. We all know that something is eternal. And it ain't houses and it ain't names, and it ain't earth, and it ain't even the stars... everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you'd be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There's something way down deep that's eternal about every human being."

From the beautiful memoir "Hole In The Sky" by William Kittredge

"They say we are created by by our language, that we live immersed in language and cannot escape; they say language stands as a scrim between us and what we think of as 'real,' and that we have to name things before we can actually know them. As a result we can never know what is 'actual.' All we can know is names, stories."

Getting closer to the eternal or perfection... from "Hole In The Sky" by William Kittredge

"I want to be like the child for whom it was so simple to let himself go into the affection for what we are. He loved it as we seem to in the beginning, on the doorstep of life, with a future so thick in second changes.
What a release it might be, falling back into the world as if through some gate that was reopened, into that time in which we felt ourselves seamlessly wedded to every thing, and every other thing, getting closer."
...

"That little boy had no intimation that those moments would come to stand in memory as his approximation of perfection: his family, his life before him, the world in renewal."

Beautiful - I can see Kittredge in my future.

P.S. The title reminded me a bit of a poem by Don Welch called The River. The last verse is:

There is a single hole
in the clouds through which
time is escaping.

For your 'thing about trains'...and a river thrown in.
(Let my username be your guide to the piece)

"Somewhere, far away, across the cool sweet silence of the night, Helen heard the sound of a train. For a moment she could hear the faint and ghostly tolling of its bell, the short explosive blasts of its hard labour, now muted almost into silence, now growing near, immediate as it laboured out across the night from the enclosure of a railway cut down by the river's edge; and for an instant she heard the lonely wailing and receding cry of the train's whistle, and then the long heavy rumble of its wheels; and then nothing but silence, darkness, the huge hush and secrecy of night again."

Nice. A river is always welcome.

I thought your name was Eugene, Eugene. :) I ran out to look it up and found the name was created by a writer I've never read. I started to read O Lost once, but I was afraid it might be redundant. I took the liberty of checking out your catalog. Nice collection!

You have never read Look Homeward Angel? Then your missing out on one of the most brilliant books to be published by Maxwell Perkins at Scribners during 1929. Heavy editing by Perkins I might add. LHA is about 25% of the original manuscript which makes up O'Lost. (for true Wolfe fans only -in my opinion)

Thanks on the 'collection' comment. I think I am only 1/3 cataloged. Years in the making, a labor of love, the never-ending quest for a gem in the rough, gold under the current and other noble treasures.

No, never did. I just never got around to it. Since Perkins wrote it, do you think it is worthwhile? Maybe I should stick with O Lost after all. I would like to at least be reading Wolfe when I read.

I read about half of one of Wolfe's poetry books not long ago. I can't say I was overly impressed with most of it, but there were a couple that I liked very much. One was Night and the other As It Had Always Been. The book is called A Stone, A Leaf, A Door. I intend to read the rest of it sometime to see what's there. I wondered if some of the beginning poems had been written when he was a fledgling poet. It was getting better toward the middle.

If you don't mind, I will keep an eye on your catalog. I don't know why, exactly, since my tbr/tbb lists are no longer under my control. But I just want to see what else is there. I guess I'm nosy. :)

I know what you mean -

Go out and find an old copy of The Face of a Nation: Poetical Passages from the Writings of Thomas Wolfe. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1939. It was edited by an editor working at Scribners along side Maxwell Perkins, John Hall Wheellock. Illustrations done by Edward Shenton are grand. Or buy it here: http://tinyurl.com/3aq3as Wolfe never considered himself a poet, but greatly admired those with the ability. I remember him thinking very highly of Robinson Jeffers. Those included in Stone, A Leaf, A Door and The Face of a Nation, were taken from his prose work.

It's now on my list. Thanks for telling me about it. I will enjoy seeing the illustrations, especially. I need to finish up Stone soon, too. I know I should read LHA, but I always associate it F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby for some reason and I didn't like it. Weren't they friends or writing buddies or something?

Never friends. From what I recall, Wolfe paid a visit on Fitzgerald when he was over in Paris while writing Story of A Novel and Time And The River I think Perkins told Wolfe where Fitzgerald was at the time, since both were under contract at Scribners. I believe Wolfe's correspondence after the meeting, did not paint an overly admirable portrait of the man. I'd have to dig out his letters again to be sure.

My mistake, then. I will add LHA to my reading list. Sometimes I think I pull these things out of a hat. For some reason, I've always lumped Wolfe, Fitzgerald, and Hemingway together. A little enlightenment is a good thing.

You can lump them together if your reading letters from Maxwell Perkins (as he was corresponding with them all around the same general time while at Scribners), but Wolfe and Hemingway are at opposite ends of the earth in terms of styles. Hemingway is short and constrained whereas Wolfe is lucid, descriptive and repetitive.

I like short and lucid best. Maybe I can mix them together. I might get Tom Robbins. :)

More trains and rivers from Wolfe:

Trains cross the continent in a swirl of dust and thunder, the leaves fly down the tracks behind them: the great trains cleave through gulch and gulley, they rumble with spoked thunder on the bridges over the powerful brown wash of mighty rivers, they toil through hills, they skirt the rough brown stubble of shorn fields, they whip past empty stations in the little towns and their great stride pounds its even pulse across America.
Father, in the night time, in the dark, I have heard the thunder of the fast express. In the night, in the dark, I have heard the howling of the winds among great trees, and the sharp and windy raining of the acorns. In the night, in the dark, I have heard the feet of rain upon the roofs, the glut and gurgle of the gutter spouts, and the soaking gulping throat of all the mighty earth, drinking its thirst out in the month of May—and heard the sorrowful silence of the river in October. The hill-streams foam and welter in a steady plunge, the mined clay drops and melts and eddies in the night, the snake coils cool and glistening under dripping ferns, the water roars down past the mill in one sheer sheet-like plunge, making a steady noise like the wind, and in the night, in the dark, the river flows by us to the sea. The great maw slowly drinks the land as we lie sleeping: the mined banks cave and crumble in the dark, the earth melts and drops into its tide, great horns are baying in the gulph of night, great boats are baying at the river's mouth. Thus, darkened by our dumpings, thickened by our stains, rich, rank, beautiful, and unending as all life, all living, the river, the dark immortal river, full of strange tragic time is flowing by us—by us—by us—to the sea."

Or lightning and mountains from All the pretty horses:

"There were storms to the south and masses of clouds that moved slowly along the horizon with their long dark tendrils trailing in the rain. That night they camped on a ledge of rock above the plains and watched the lightning all along the horizon provoke from the seamless dark the distant mountain ranges again and again."

Welcome, Proclus. I enjoyed your passages very much. The Wolfe was especially nice. I think this must be what EG meant by descriptive and lucid. (I'm a little concerned about the repetitive.) Thanks to both of you for introducing me to Wolfe.

53 & 54 very cool indeed - I`m impressed !

On an arguably less enlightened note, I`ve been reading Music On My Mind by jazz musician Willie `The Lion` Smith. The copy I`ve been reading is a `50s hardback published by the short-lived Jazz Book Club. I just mention it to show how effortlessly cool I am.

Here`s a good bit. Willie`s mother told him he had "a real truth to tell the people" and a "God-given right to scream it at them", but cautioned him to "remember - that sometimes the screaming won`t do any good." Looking back on life, Willie observes :

"She spoke the truth. This world is full of chirpers, belchers and flips from the funny papers who like to go out on the town. I learned to go home when my antennae picked up vibrations from the off-key kids and the whisky tenors. You might as well try making love to each member of a girl quartet at the same time as to try playing your music when the vibrations are wrong. The Lion knows. He was born under Saturn, the get-it-the-hard-way planet."

I particularly liked "the off-key kids and the whisky tenors" - sounds like something from a Tom Waits song.

Should anyone be interested, there`s a lot about Willie Smith on the web, including several sites that play selections from his music.

I`m glad the `passages` group is still alive and thriving - I think it`s the best thing about LT.

Welcome back, Nick :)

There are a lot more 'trains' including other great descriptive imagery at the on-line version of Time and The River: http://tinyurl.com/2d4j8q
I will have to check out Willie Smith, Nick. Love jazz.

Thanks, both.

Eugene,

#41 - Maybe I`m not very well-read, or possibly because what little LTing I do, I do before work in the morning, but I still haven`t worked out where this passage comes from.

What is it ?

Nick,

Chapt. 25, first paragraph, Time And The River. Here is another passage (Chapt 25) which also hits home:

"What is wrong with people? . . . Why do we never get to know one another? . . . Why is it that we get born and live and die here in this world without ever finding out what anyone else is like? . . . No, what is the strangest thing of all--why is it that all our efforts to know people in this world lead only to greater ignorance and confusion than before? We get together and talk, and say we think and feel and believe in such a way, and yet what we really think and feel and believe we never say at all. Why is this? We talk and talk in an effort to understand another person, and yet almost all we say is false: we hardly ever say what we mean or tell the truth--it all leads to greater misunderstanding and fear than before--it would be better if we said nothing."

Hey, Nick. It's good to hear from you again. The Smith book sounds like a fun read. I will have to "en-list" it.

EG, That's a profoundly moving piece from Time and the River. I've often wondered myself what is wrong with people (including myself). I think for most of us it is the fear that when we see ourselves reflected in someone else's eyes, there won't be much there. Of course, that isn't true. But I believe most of us think it, anyway. Do you remember what is was like making friends when you were a child? That experience was exciting, joyful almost. Unfortunately, age and experience teach us to distrust and the excitement is replaced with trepidation. It's a very sad thing. I like this passage very much and it has given me reason to stop and think. I will add Time and the River to my list, as well. Thanks. I have a quote I want to share that goes along with this, but I'm at work and it's at home. I'll be back! :)

Rembembering when you were a child....here is Eugene Gant in Look Homeward Angel remembering Grover, (his older brother who died at age 12) and his trip to the Worlds Fair in St. Louis (Eliza is mom):

"Sometimes, lying on a sunny quilt, Eugene grew conscious of a
gentle peering face, a soft caressing voice, unlike any of the
others in kind and quality, a tender olive skin, black hair,
sloeblack eyes, exquisite, rather sad, kindliness. He nuzzled his
soft face next to Eugene's, fondled and embraced him. On his brown
neck he was birth-marked with a raspberry: Eugene touched it again
and again with wonder. This was Grover--the gentlest and saddest
of the boys.

Eliza sometimes allowed them to take him on excursions. Once, they
made a voyage on a river steamer: he went below and from the side-
openings looked closely upon the powerful yellow snake, coiling
slowly and resistlessly past.

The boys worked on the Fair Grounds. They were call-boys at a
place called the Inside Inn. The name charmed him: it flashed
constantly through his brain. Sometimes his sisters, sometimes
Eliza, sometimes the boys pulled him through the milling jungle of
noise and figures, past the rich opulence and variety of the life
of the Fair. He was drugged in fantasy as they passed the East
India tea-house, and as he saw tall turbaned men who walked about
within and caught for the first time, so that he never forgot, the
slow incense of the East. Once in a huge building roaring with
sound, he was rooted before a mighty locomotive, the greatest
monster he had ever seen, whose wheels spun terrifically in
grooves, whose blazing furnaces, raining hot red coals into the pit
beneath, were fed incessantly by two grimed fire-painted stokers.
The scene burned in his brain like some huge splendor out of Hell:
he was appalled and fascinated by it.

Again, he stood at the edge of the slow, terrific orbit of the
Ferris Wheel, reeled down the blaring confusion of the midway,
felt his staggering mind converge helplessly into all the mad
phantasmagoria of the carnival; he heard Luke's wild story of the
snake-eater, and shrieked in agony when they threatened to take him
in."

One final passage combining memories of youth and trains: Eugene's train ride when he was young from his first novel Look Homeward Angel....(notice the representation of his creation for 'Time' and 'River' (his second novel)

"Eugene watched the sun wane and redden on a rocky river, and on the
painted rocks of Tennessee gorges: the enchanted river wound into
his child's mind forever. Years later, it was to be remembered in
dreams tenanted with elvish and mysterious beauty. Stilled in
great wonder, he went to sleep to the rhythmical pounding of the
heavy wheels."

I was going to add the quote I mentioned, but it can wait. I want to slow down a bit for this last one. It has everything I love in a passage: A beautiful, vivid image created with only a dusting of words... and followed by a train. :)

The suspense is killing me. I also found another passage from a literary master, also involving a train. ...when I have a moment to type it out since it is not found on-line. I will let you guess who.

"It had stopped raining outside but there were big clouds over the mountains. We were going along the river and the country was very beautiful and I had never seen anything like it before except I the illustrations of a book at Mrs. Kenwood’s where we use to go for Sunday dinner up at the lake. It was a big book and it was always on the parlor table and I would look at it while waiting for dinner. The engravings were like this country now after the rain with the river and the mountains going up from it and the grey stone. Sometimes there would be a train across on the other side of the river. The leaves on the trees were turned by the fall and sometimes you saw the river through the branches of the trees and it did not seem old and like the illustrations but instead it seemed like a place to live in and where you could fish and eat your lunch and watch the train go by. But mostly it was dark and unreal and sad and strange and classical like the engravings. That may have been because it was just after the rain and the sun had not come out. When the wind blows the leaves off the trees they are cheerful and good to walk through and the trees are the same, only they are without leaves. But when the leaves fall from the rain they are dead and wet and flat to the ground and the trees are changed and wet and unfriendly. It was very beautiful coming along the Hudson but it was the sort of thing I did not know about and it made me wish we were back at the lake. It gave me the same feeling that the engravings in the book did and the feeling was confused with the room where I always looked at the book and it being someone else’s house and before dinner and wet trees after the rain and the time in the north when the fall is over and it is wet and cold and the birds are gone and the woods are no more fun to walk in and it rains and you want to stay inside with a fire. I do not suppose I thought of all those things because I have never thought much and never in words but it was the feeling of all those things that the country along the Hudson River gave me. The rain can make all places strange, even places where you live."

Name that author and if your good, the piece. Clue: Last paragraph of a short story.

I don't have a clue, but can't stop myself guessing. Just because it's the Hudson River, Walt Whitman?

And so you won't expire before we learn the author's identity, the quote I mentioned:

"Time, they say, makes a man mellow. I do not believe it. Time makes a man afraid, and fear makes him conciliatory, and being conciliatory he endeavours to appear to others what they will think mellow. And with fear comes the need of affection, of some human warmth to keep away the chill of the cold universe. When I speak of fear, I do not mean merely or mainly personal fear: the fear of death or decrepitude or penury or any such merely mundane misfortune. I am thinking of a more metaphysical fear. I am thinking of the fear that enters the soul through experience of the major evils to which life is subject: the treachery of friends, the death of those whom we love, the discovery of the cruelty that lurks in the average human nature."

- Bertrand Russell (from Autobiography)

How ironic you mentioned Walt Whitman. Over three weeks ago I bought a 1900 edition of Leaves of Grass (to be my second copy) on ebay from a person living in a very small town between Maine and New Hampshire. I just found out today she sent it to someone in Minneapolis. I'm in Colorado! I'm fuming right now. I'll be back shortly when my nerves settle down.

......One hour later....

Ok, the kettle is off the fire and the house has grown quiet again. No, not Whitman. Key phrases in this short piece are 'keenness of edge' and 'simplicity of action'. These are the ideas told to Jimmy by the Porter, a black man named George. "The Porter" is a short story by Hemingway which takes place on a train in which Jimmy and his father travel through Canada. It is my understanding that Ernest Hemingway's son Patrick considers this short piece to be the best of this father's short stories. Apparently it was an unfinished piece for an untitled novel. Another piece of this unfinished novel is a piece entitled "The Train Trip". I am not a big Hemingway fan, so I am sure someone reading this would have a better insight into this work than I.

I understand, but I wouldn't recommend going after it. It's a bit frosty in Minnesota right now, as I understand. I loved Leaves of Grass as a teen. I Sit and Look Out was a turning point for me.

I have never cared for Hemingway's work, either. But I always hoped there was more to him than met the eye. I intend to read these two pieces. If he liked trains, he can't be all bad.

Somewhat belatedly, there is an in-joke in one of Chandler`s novels where Marlowe keeps addressing a policeman as `Hemingway`. when the officer asks him why, he retorts (I`ll have to paraphrase a little) that Hemingway is a man who keeps saying the same thing over and over again until everyone thinks it must be good !

I understand that Chandler was a Hemingway fan, so probably meant more in jest than malice.

Hi Nick, good to hear from you again. I've been away helping to move a library for the last month. It is now officially moved. I hope to get back into the group soon.

I've read so little of Hemingway that I didn't know he was repetitive. The little I have read just sapped my strength.

Much my own feeling about him.

The only time I read him, I was intrigued by the lines about "The Hemingway staccato/The tragic bravado" in a Steve Harley song. I felt Hemingway was actually less interesting than that by a big distance.

Actually, I just threw the Hemingway quote in to make sure the passages group was still alive as it seemed to have gone quiet for a while.

I did have a good quote lined up for this group, from Maskerade by Terry Pratchett - there is a line where a character reflects that "as soon as man began to walk upright, he fell to his knees" or something very similar. Unfortunately, I`m beginning to suspect I left my copy in Yorkshire on holiday recently.

I don`t suppose anyone else can provide the quote ?

Lorsomething,

You will appreciate this wonderful setting description (love this paragraph) of an English forest somewhere between Sheffield and Doncaster:

"The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades of that forest, which we have mentioned in the beginning of the chapter. Hundreds of broad-headed, short-stemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed perhaps the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their gnarled arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious green sward; in some places they were intermingled with beeches, hollies, and copsewood of various descriptions, so closely as totally to intercept the level beams of the sinking sun; in others they receded from each other, forming those long sweeping vistas, in the intricacy of which the eye delights to lose itself, while imagination considers them as the paths to yet wilder scenes of silvan solitude. Here the red rays of the sun shot a broken and discoloured light, that partially hung upon the shattered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees, and there they illuminated in brilliant patches the portions of turf to which they made their way. A considerable open space, in the midst of this glade, seemed formerly to have been dedicated to the rites of Druidical superstition; for, on the summit of a hillock, so regular as to seem artificial, there still remained part of a circle of rough unhewn stones, of large dimensions. Seven stood upright; the rest had been dislodged from their places, probably by the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some prostrate near their former site, and others on the side of the hill. One large stone only had found its way to the bottom, and in stopping the course of a small brook, which glided smoothly round the foot of the eminence, gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice of murmur to the placid and elsewhere silent streamlet."

Nick, I haven't read Pratchett, so I can't help with the quote, but I like the thought of it. I hope someone can fill us in.

Eugene, Sometimes I surprise myself. This is the kind of thing I usually love, but for some reason I can't put my finger on, I am not moved by this one. I have always maintained that "when" you read something, is just as important as "what" you read, so I will come back to it later to see if it speaks to me then. I'm glad you shared it, though. I always love to read anything that has touched someone else.

Lorsomething,

I thought for sure you would recognize this passage in the first chapter of Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe which I just acquired (old hardback w/ jacket) but have not yet read. Currently reading another recent purchase: a 1927 Riverside edition of The Talisman which I had not discovered in my earlier high school or college days. Late bloomer. I figured it is about time I get through both. Scott's language is a wonderful experience.

eugene, just goes to show. Though it is one of my all-time favorite books, I haven't read it since I was 12. This passage did not stick with me, apparently. I have yet to read the The Talisman. Let me know what you think, OK? I would say I should re-read Ivanhoe, but I'm fairly sure I won't anytime soon. I'm always afraid of looking too closely at old loves. :)

Interesting. Scott has become something of a `prophet without honour in his own land` over here (the UK) - outside the ranks of seasoned bibliophiles, he`s pretty much in the `forgotten authors` box, probably next to Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch and W H G Kingston, and yet your passage, eugene (you have quite a talent for finding these passages) certainly `has something`, cetainly for those of us with a deep love of the English countryside.

My suspicion is that many of us either lack the attention span, or are simply too tired at the end of working day, to deal with the long, winding sentences found in so much antiquarian fiction.

A bit of a reflection on the world we live in ? Maybe.

I suspect most of us don`t do as much as we could do make sure `leisure time` is also `quality time`. It`s quite amazing the rubbish we can find to fill up our lives !

Hi Nick, I agree with your observation on the popularity of the old "masters." They do seem to be losing ground. A little sad, isn't it? I loved them for several reasons, chief among them was their ability to transport me to a time and place I couldn't otherwise know. But I also liked that they slowed me down. I need that sometimes. However, right now I couldn't get much slower, as I'm having trouble getting interested in anything. I'm either very restless or suffering the effects of a paradigm shift. I'm not sure which. I'm filling up my hours with "rubbish," as you put it. I suppose if we had no rubbish in our lives, there would be no yardstick to measure the good, so maybe even the rubbish serves a purpose. I'll let you know if I have any great insights while I'm wasting time. :)

Not sure if they've appeared here, but thought I'd post the openings of the first three chapters of Elantris which I must say is an amasing novel.

chapter 1:
"Prince Raoden of Arelon awoke early that morning completely uaware that he had been damned for all eternity."

Chapter 2:
"Sarene stepped off the ship to discover that she was a widow."

Chapter 3:
"None of Arelon's people greeted their saviour when he arrived."

In my mind, these are some of the best literary hooks written, at least that I've read.

This one has always stayed with me. From You Can't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe

"The crackling pine logs on the great marble hearth cast their radiance
warmly on the covers of these worn books, and Mrs. Jack had a sense of
peace and comfort as she looked at the rich and homely compact of their
colours. She saw her favourite novels and histories, plays, poems, and
biographies, and the great books of decoration and design, of painting,
drawing, and architecture, which she had assembled in a crowded lifetime
of work, travel, and living. Indeed, all these objects, these chairs and
tables, these jades and silks, all the drawings and paintings, as well as
the books, had been brought together at different times and places and
fused into a miracle of harmony by the instinctive touch of this woman's
hand. It is no wonder, therefore, that her face softened and took on an
added glow of loveliness as she looked at her fine room. The like of it,
as she well knew, could nowhere else be found."

lorsomething

I know how you feel. I`m having a `not reading much` phase at the minute, partly because my last two books have been Somerset Maugham`s Cakes and Ale, which has some great writing but nothing much to say, and Lloyd Bradley`s Bass Culture, which has it`s flaws but for me at least, is a better book. Also a very lengthy one. I`m thinking of this as a `fallow period` reading-wise.

C of L

I like the idea of `literary hooks` like the ones you`ve provided - I shall try to look some out.

eugene

Another great passage. I`ve promised myself I`ll read some Wolfe. Mind you, I`ve promised myself I`ll read lots of people, and it doesn`t alays happen !

Like Nick, I'm promising myself to read Wolfe. I love this passage, eg. But I'm visually oriented. I need to see the room! :)

lorsomething and Nick,

Don't be intimidated by the size of his novels. You can pick up any one of them and read just a chapter or two to appreciate his writing and still take away an interesting life scenerio. A number of his shorter pieces were originally published in popular magazines of the time and of course in his short story collection From Death To Morning.

For instance, many consider 'The Lost Boy' to be one of his finest pieces. It is the story of a Southern family that suffers a terrible loss--Grover, the 12-year-old son, dies of typhoid fever during an extended family visit to the World's Fair in St. Louis in 1904:

http://xroads.virginia.edu/~MA01/White/anthology/wolfe.html

#83

Cheers, I`ll take your advice. A bit sort on leisure time at present though.

#72

A kind friend in the book trade has given (given !) me a first edition copy of Maskerade to replace my battered old paperback that I left in Yorkshire.

This is the quote I was thinking of -

"There was fear here. It stalked the place like a great dark animal. It lurked in every corner. It was in the stones. Old terror crouched in the shadows. It was one of the most ancient terrors, the one that meant that no sooner had mankind learned to walk on two legs than it fell to its knees. It was the terror of impermanence, the knowledge that all this would pass away, that a beautiful voice or a wonderful figure was something whose arrival you couldn`t control and whose departure you couldn`t delay. It wasn`t what she had been looking for, but it was perhaps the sea in which it swam."

It`s not exactly the most cheerful quote I could have found, but at least it has something to say !

Hey Nick, very moving passage. At times, I appreciate the transitory nature of things. There's a certain freedom in it. The book isn't one I know, so I'm off to learn more about it. Thanks for sharing this.

"Your longing cannot be remedied by strategies," Andros replied. "All you can do is follow your heart's prompting. This feeling is a gift, Georgiou. When it comes over us, we must watch it, and not let our ordinary minds get in the way. The feeling itself is authentic. It shows you are close to something. We don't really feel deprived until we are close."

- Roger Housden
from Chasing Rumi

(Forgot the touchstones; now they don't seem to work)

I`ve left replying to this for a while to see if anyone else wanted to join in.

I quite like this, though difficult to make sense of without context.

There is something to `not letting your ordinary mind get in the way`. I`m sure I`m much more likely to do that now than I used to be.

Before I became self-employed I had a job that tended to foster a certain single-mindedness about things - those who were well-motivated tended to be "like a terrier with a rat" about things. I learnt a lot, and at least I wasn`t indoors all the time, but it may be unhealthy to be in that kind of emvironment for too long.

Anyway, I just throw that in to see if anyone has any experiences to compare, but mostly just to keep the Passages group going, as I still think it`s the best thing on LT.

Anyone got any commments ?

Any passages to share ?

Hey Nick, Sorry I haven't been around much lately. Too many irons in the fire. I'm not sure I agree with Housden on this. I just found it interesting. I think there is a lot to be said for the ordinary mind. Following the heart is ideal and is the stuff of which memories are made, but a bit impractical sometimes. And sometimes, impossible. Where would we be if we couldn't think things through? I wonder if anyone else might have a thought... or a feeling? :)

While we`re waiting for someone to join in, here`s one from a book I re-read recently, Interesting times by Terry Pratchett -

(said by one character about another) - "With him here, even uncertainty is uncertain. And I`m not sure even about that."

I`d like that for my epitaph, I find a certain amount of good, healthy uncertainty is worth more than some of the spurious certainties some people cling to.

Nice one, Nick, but don't start chiseling just yet. :)

Here's one from Mark Twain:

Look history over and you will see. The missionary comes after the whiskey - I mean, he arrives after the whiskey has arrived. Next comes the poor immigrant with ax and hoe and rifle; next, the trader; next the miscellaneous rush; next the gambler, the desperado, the highwayman, and all their kindred in sin of both sexes; and next the smart chap who has bought up an old grant that covers all the land; this brings in the lawyer tribe; the vigilance committee brings the undertaker. All these interests bring the newspaper; the newspaper starts up politics and a railroad; all hands turn to and build a church and a jail - and behold, civilization is established forever in the land.

That`s pretty good. I like Twain.

Here`s one from a personal favourite of mine, J B Priestley -

"There is a certain kind of optimism that is easily the most depressing thing in the world ... Who does not know and shrink from that metallic and inflexible cheerfulness, that brutal determination to make what is very absurdly called `the best` of everything, which mark such optimism and set it apart from all reasonable attitudes towards life ? It`s unmistakable vulgarity...is easily discovered in it`s favourite aphorism on the subject of dark clouds and silver linings. There is nothing more beautiful, in their own season, than dark clouds, and no man with a healthy mind, and a healthy mind is a poetical mind, has failed to be strangely exalted, uplifted in spirit, at some time or other at the sight of these sombre masses and fantastic shapes, which for a few brief moments can transfer the whole world into a battlement of Elsinore ; yet this vulgar optimist, like some importunate bagman, must come bustling in with his talk of silver linings."

Good one, Nick. I prefer curmudgeons any day to the perpetually cheeful, especially on Monday mornings!

I had a suspicion you`d like it. Priestley remains one of my all-time favourites, and his essays etc among my favourite work of his.

That one came from All About ourselves, though it had appeared previously in I For One.

Something a little different this time, from Walter tyrer , one of his post-war Sexton Blake stories.

In the Case of the Naval defaulter, a young girl has asked the great detective for help. Her employer, the dapper but possibly dangerous Syd Vanetti pays her to act as his secretary, but it seems his only requirement is that she look pretty, dress well and live at the same address as him. Despite what you might think, she has "her own room, which had proved to be as inviolate as the cell of a nun of a very severe order."

As ever, Blake is alive to the social nuances of the day "Her new background has, in fact, added a certain superficial refinement" he comments "She talks about luncheon, whereas before the midday meal was dinner."

As she puts the phone down, her employer makes an entrance ;

`He was quite young, less than thirty, but he gave an impression of efficiency. Syd Vanetti was a small and neatly-built figure, with silk socks, a trailing handkerchief in his breast pocket to match, and hand-made shoes. His hair was black and crinkled rhythmically from his low and sloping forehead...

He slipped into the room in the way he had, opening the door just wide enough to admit his body, and no more, for there was, presumably, no necessity to wear out the hinges unnecessarily...

"So you`ve been telephoning ?" he said.`

Also from Walter Tyrer, a look at the norms of 1940s Britain, as seen through the eyes of two overseas visitors -

"The English choose to sit in discomfort in their cooking places" explained Juan. "They invariably use their smallest and most uncomfortable room at the back of the house. They do not visit the state rooms at the front of their homes except on festive occasions and days of religious ceremony."

"A strange race," sighed the other."they seem to prefer discomfort to ease."

"That is why they win wars," Juan commented, "To sit in a hole in the ground and be shot at offers little difference from their normal mode of life."

Purely as a digression, while I doubt if anyone now retains the old practise of sitting in the kitchen leaving the front room free, it`s still the custom in some areas - including the one where I live - for callers to come straight to the back door, as distinct from the more common practise of calling at the front of the house, presumably a `hangover` from those old ways.

... just in case anyone finds that sort of thing interesting, I`m reliably informed that in the area where I live, in days gone by (i.e. in the days when D H Lawrence was growing up), the front door to a lot of houses was only used when someone died, as it was the only practical way to remove a coffin from a typical `two up/two down` terraced house. I`m guessing that there was a superstition against using the front door for that reason and old habits die hard.

Another quote from Frank Herbert's Dune: " A man's flesh is his own; the water belongs to the tribe."

I've always thought that a great metaphor for the needs of the living being more important than of those who no longer are.

On the wordy side, but rich with meaning. Gene Wolfe's Citadel of the Autarch:

"... I pondered passages from the brown book and sought to match them to my own experiences in order to produce, insofar as possible, some general theory of human action that would be of benefit to me should I ever free myself. ...

"Thus I sifted the actions of the magicians, and of the man who had accosted me outside the jacal of the sick girl, and of many other men and women I had known, seeking for a key that would unlock all hearts.

"I found none that could be expressed in few words: 'Men and women do as they do because of thus and so...' None of the ragged bits of metal fit---the desire for power, the lust of love, the need for reassurance, or the taste for seasoning life with romance. But I did find one principle, which I came to call that of Primitivity, that I believe is widely applicable, and which, if it does not initiate action, at least seems to influence the forms that action takes. I might state is this way: Because the prehistoric cultures endured for so many chiliads, they have shaped our heritage in such a way as to cause us to behave as if their conditions obtained today."

#98, #99

Only just noticed those two. I quite like them - very thoughtful.

I notice I`ve probably rather overdone the Walter Tyrer motif, but that won`t stop me doing so again. From The Case of the Cottage Crime, here`s a description of a village priest -

"He was tall, but he was exceedingly thin, so that his neck rose from his clerical collar like a weedy geranium in a large flower pot. His wide-brimmed hat had once been black and was now green. His face - well, he had the kind of face that justifies a new paragraph.

His nose and upper lip were long, his wide mouth curved upwards benevolently beneath them. His eyes were brown, loving and kind, like the sort of spaniel that trots up to lick burglars on the hand. He was the vicar of Midminster, the Rev Marcus Horne, and he knew the Epistles of St Paul so well that he might have been Postmaster-General at that time."

This is cheating a bit, as it`s a quote from a book I`ve not read (yet) -

"The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to sharpen."

Eden Phillpotts, A Shadow Passes, 1918