20 mar. 2004

Gone by Fanny Howe. 2003.

I'm sure I'm the last person on Silliman's blogroll to read this book. I'm glad I finally got around to it. The religiosity here keeps me at a distance. I don't know what to make of it. This distance makes the reading experience richer for me, in a way.

I'm still trying to read a book a day, combining old with new readings.


"Another one, you say? I'm getting tired."
"But now the second line is almost done:
Come on, you know it would be loads of fun."
"I'll do it in the morning, more inspired;

I'm feeling low, my talent has expired."
"But now the second quatrain has begun,
In fact, we're in the middle of its run."
"Approaching midnight, in a rut I'm mired,

But why stop now? I'm feeling so Petrarchan."
"Those Engish couplets are too apodictic."
"What will we rhyme with that? That's what I'm fearing."

"The perfect rhyme, of course, is 'masochistic.'"
"And so we're done, we'll never cease to hearken..."
"To the voice of verse that in our heads we're hearing."

No hay comentarios: