Skip to content

Tag: reading

The Write to Read: caudate sonnet

What good to write when so few have the time
to do much more than nod and swipe me gone?
Opinions vary, but to ramble on
without an audience seems too sublime.
Besides, what difference can a few short lines
make when the world needs changing, not anon,
but here and now, before the chance is gone?
The line between much good, and none, is fine.

What matter does it make, ten thousand friends,
when only two or three may even try
to navigate through streams of postured talk
that lives for but a moment, then it ends,
before it has a chance to qualify
as something just more useful than a rock?

You read me? I’m in shock.

It does me good to think of you out there,
afloat in that great ether realm, somewhere;
I write on, since you care.

Together, let us seek some peace of mind;
there is no limit to what we can find.

28 APR 2025

Leave a Comment

Curiouser and Curiouser

There’s a pet theory of mine that says if you’re nine years old, having reached the third year of elementary school, and you don’t love to read and have at least some middling skills at it, your life is going to be from that point forward much simpler, much less colorful, and to no small degree, much more difficult. Maybe it’s because I started reading at four, and by the time I was in first grade I was reading at a 6th grade level (apparently, the point on the yardstick at least 50% of Americans find themselves).

It doesn’t matter what you read, actually. Comic books, fairy tales, road signs, cereal boxes, adaptations for young people, television subtitles. Reading IS fundamental. Not only because it increases the scope by which you view and interpret the world, and the infinite names by which you can label at endless variety of phenomenon and objects, but because it exposes you, even if only by osmosis or accidental seepage, to ideas. And ideas, particularly those you formulate inside your own mind based on your personal experience, are powerful and sometimes magical things.

Seeking out opportunities to read is critical to the development of one of the most important qualities of humanity: curiosity. There is a sadness, and even a danger, to creatures who possess no sense of wonder at how things are the way they are – and a desire to find out why. In animals, that lack of a why gene typically makes for very dull and short lives. A mouse in a maze with no sense of fuck around and find out will very rarely get the cheese, and more often than not, by not noticing and keeping track of the warning signs along the path, is likely to find the cat instead. Yes, you may get a chunk of old bread, or in the case of a butterfly, a really unappetizing bit of pollen, but unless you’re interested in experimenting at least a little, your unexamined life is pretty pointless.

In humans, a lack of curiosity is even more dangerous. If you can imagine yourself as a being that never, ever in any circumstances, asks for more information, for clarity, for some underlying principle or justification – well, if you CAN imagine that, you’ve probably got a little curiosity. Thank goodness. But you know people without curiosity, certainly. They are dry, flat, and unprofitable, for the most part. They may do well in school, where the actuarial tendencies of mediocrity are so capably reinforced and encouraged. They will rise, it is said, to the highest level of their incompetence – and stay forever stuck in an amber life which might as well be heavily medicated, for there are no real highs or lows. That’s survival, not living, isn’t it? Churning out widgets and children who will count widgets for another few ages. Maneuvering through one set of boxes after another, opening the door of one prison cell to only find yourself in a series of ever larger, ever more comfortable ones, but never really getting a window to what’s beyond the gates.

Imagine being a writer in such a world. John Waters once quipped that if you go home with someone and find out they don’t have any books in their home, don’t have sex with them. But somehow or another they keep breeding, don’t they, these non-curious, non-reading, non-essential, and ultimately, non-entity things that pass themselves off as human beings. Don’t get me wrong – they’re not monsters, most of them. Being a monster, or at least an interesting villain, requires imagination and curiosity.

There are a lot of reasons to write. Most of them involve communicating, entertaining, educating, or enlightening, to some degree and in some combination or another. All of it, ultimately, is about inspiring the reader to continue on their way, using what you’ve written as a guidepost, touchstone, fuel, or fodder. Human beings are consumers. They ingest to live. How that life turns out depends a lot on the quality of the intake. In more ways than one, garbage in leads to garbage out. Sometimes that refuse makes for great fertilizer. Other times, not so much.

The reasons for reading are likewise myriad. But if at least one of them isn’t because simply expanding your world of ideas is a personal imperative, then you’re really missing out. Reading is fundamental.

14 APR 2025

Leave a Comment

4. Read a lot, forget most of what you read, and be slow-witted

I think it goes without saying that my life has been full of books. But reading goes beyond literature, doesn’t it? Newspapers, magazines, comic books, bumper stickers, cereal boxes, email, blog posts, novels, short stories, poetry, music scores, instruction manuals, they all come in formats other than what we traditionally call books. And honestly, most of it I have forgotten. Except, as they say, you never forget anything; it’s only misfiled. My archive storage room must be packed to the gills.

As far as being slow-witted. Well, I suspect that in myself, and also in Montaigne, the appearance of slow-wittedness is more a propos. In the same way that Jack Benny worked extremely hard, with no small amount of technical ability, to appear as a horribly bad violinist, I believe the trick here as it applies to living well is to not appear quick-witted, that is, to not be the first to interject with a barbed comment, to be slow to engage in sarcasm or irony – since they are so often, particularly in print, misconstrued and/or deliberately misinterpreted. I cannot remember where I read it now, but somewhere two rules of true victory were imparted to me: first, to understand that you cannot understand everything, and second, that being right is the most effective way to lose an argument. It is enough, I think, to be perceived as dark, pessimistic and peevish, simply for insisting upon a doctrine of personal responsibility. To be completely without friends, all that is required is adding a sharp tongue and speaking with irony or sarcasm about those sacred cows that others find dear, and about which they permit no humor or levity. The obvious targets here are government, politics, religion, morality, life’s purpose, the sanctity of the home, work or marriage, and other life and death issues about which people are so often willing to extemporize or sermonize, and find it extremely difficult to remain objective.

I recommend reading. I would go so far as to say that if by the end of the third grade, you do not love to read – not merely to complete assignments, but to gain access to knowledge and ideas beyond those provided in the “nurture” that surrounds you – your lot in life will be more unpleasant and boring than necessary. Reading gives perspective, no less than physical traveling. Both take you out of your comfort zone – if you read or travel well. And perspective is essential to understanding both yourself and the world in which you exist. Of course, some will say that a single book, like the Christian Bible, is sufficient unto itself as a sole reading subject. In my experience, no worldview than cannot stand being seen from multiple angles, that cannot manage scrutiny from external, non-affiliated sources, is capable of free-standing.

Leave a Comment

Deconstruction

I will never deconstruct another poem
in search of hidden metaphor, by line
eviscerating some writer’s creation
to satisfy some professor of mine.

These exercises do not help the reader
connect to what is said, or truly why
in given circumstance one word is better,
or how one’s own perspective may supply

a wealth of connotations beyond measure.
Too many now who read seek just what caters
to their limits of taste or frame of mind;
and would have poets soft and built for leisure.
Why use the stairs, when there are elevators?
Because some things are NOT a waste of time.

17 FEB 2005

Leave a Comment

A Score of Reading

Based on an entry from my friend the juice, I’ve put together a few short lists, related to my earlier post on the College Board 101 Books Your Child Should be Reading.

In no particular order …

Ten Books I Wish I’d Never Read: (the second hardest category for me – after glad not to have read; because I’ve learned something from everything I’ve read – including some things I didn’t want to learn)

Masks of the Illuminati — Robert Anton Wilson
The Satanic Bible — Anton LaVey
Just As I Am — Billy Graham
Helter Skelter — Vincent Bugliosi
The 21 Lessons of Merlin — Douglas Monroe
Juliette — Marquis de Sade
The Siege of Troy: A Modern Retelling of the Iliad — Greg Tobin
Magick in Theory and Practice — Aleister Crowley
Circle of Stones — Anna Mae Waldo
Centennial — James Michener

Ten Books I’m Ashamed to Say I’ve Never Read:

Ariel — Sylvia Plath
Finnegans Wake — James Joyce
The Federalist Papers — Alexander Hamilton et al
Das Kapital — Karl Marx
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee — Dee Brown
In His Own Write — John Lennon
The Bonfire of the Vanities — Tom Wolfe
The Executioner’s Song — Norman Mailer
The Sun Also Rises — Ernest Hemingway
Les Miserables — Victor Hugo

Ten Books I’m Glad I’ve Never Read: (and this was the hardest one, because frankly there aren’t really any books that I would refuse to attempt to read)

Mein Kampf — Adolf Hitler
The Way Things Ought to Be — Rush Limbaugh
The Confesions of Aleister Crowley — Aleister Crowley
Teen Witch — Silver Ravenwolf
Fight Club — Chuck Palahniuk
Summa Theologica — St. Thomas Aquinas
Summer of My German Soldier — Bette Green
Warlock: A Novel of Ancient Egypt — Wilbur Smith
The World of Rod McKuen — Rod McKuen
Wilderness: The Lost Writings of Jim Morrison — Jim Morrison

Ten Books I’ve Started But Probably Will Never Finish:

Beezlebub’s Tales to His Grandson — G.I. Gurdjieff
Prometheus Rising — Robert Anton Wilson
The Decline of the Roman Empire, Vols. 2 and 3 — Edward Gibbon
Confessions of St. Augustine — St. Augustine
Walden, or Life in the Woods — Henry David Thoreau
The Republic — Plato
Critical Path — R. Buckminister Fuller
Dear Theo: The Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh — Vincent Van Gogh
Three Books of Occult Philosophy — Cornelius Agrippa
Faust — Johann Goethe

Leave a Comment

College Board and the Great Books

Found this link at The Rage Diaries.

Apparently the College Board (you know, the folks that gave us the SAT and ACT) has put together a list of 101 Great Books recommended to be read by those entering freshman year college. Well, it’s actually 101 novels, 19 miscellaneous (uncategorized and non-Fictional works), and various works by 15 identified poets.

On a whim, I evaluated my own performance, reading-wise:

Novels:   71 of 101 (70%)
Miscellaneous:   14 of 19 (74%)
Poetry:    11 of 15 (73%)

Now, as I recall, the 70% range is either a C or D. That’s not good. And even if any of the identified works I actually still own, 21 years out of high school, that still doesn’t put me on the College Board’s “Dean’s List”, does it?

But they have a short list (I guess, if you’re only going to read a LITTLE). On that one, I got 9 out of 10 (90%). A solid B, by my reckoning. Not much room for error on a 10 item quiz, is there?

Of course, there are many, many, MANY authors and poets not represented here that I consider essential reading. But this is the College Board, after all. You can’t expect them to be TOO avante garde, can you? Standardized reading lists and standardized tests go hand in hand. If you want to pass their tests, you have to read their books. Or pretend to have done so, or at least have slept with the Cliff Notes under your pillow.

But that brings up an important point. While a great many of these books I actually read in high school, I would not have had room to complete anywhere near the entire list considering my other reading. Who does the College Board suggest that I should have given up in order to accomplish their curricula? Allen Ginsberg? ee cummings? Krishnamurti? Julius Caesar? Ken Kesey? Rimbaud? Baudelaire? Henry Miller? And what if was more interested in reading “The Idiot” than “Crime and Punishment”? Do I get a point off for that one? It’s strange the authors they include, versus deliberately seem to exclude. Dickens is nowhere to be found. Jack London likewise. Ambrose Bierce — how would I have survived high school without the “Devil’s Dictionary” I ask you …

Fortunately, my reading requirements are not dictated by the College Board’s vision of an educated and well-read young person. But I worry about my step-daughter, who is a high school senior (almost) looking at colleges. I know for a fact that she’s not interested in reading most of this stuff. And neither are any of her friends. Sadly, reading is not one of her great pleasures. So it goes with this generation. I’m almost surprised that the College Board doesn’t require some kind of minimum television show exposure. That seems more appropriate.

Anyhow…

Leave a Comment

On TS Eliot

I’ve read you, T.S. Eliot,
and one thing I don’t get
is why between such lovely lines
you’re such a pompous twit

while sharing arcane references
lost on non-scholar types
you wail and moan the loss of myth
with poncey, highbrow tripe

it makes me wonder about schools
that teach us to ensnare
the young and willing eager mind
and leave it gasping there

its arms around a load of Greek
its tongue on Latin tripped
and by the time the poems done
the joy for life is whipped

but then a line of simple truth
comes gleaming through the mire
and makes the confused, convoluted
spirit catch on fire

for these small fragments, tiny gems
I bother with your stuff
and leave the rest: the posturing,
and clever dreck and fluff.

03 FEB 2004

Leave a Comment