Wednesday, March 18, 2009

In the Words of Gabriel Gale


My newest hero, added to my select but large list of literary heroes. He is the poet/artist/detective-ish protagonist of the G.K. Chesterton book 'The Poet and the Lunatics'. I am only just now beginning chapter three, and they are short chapters, too--I'd say I'm about 60 pages into the book--but I am already spellbound and demand that you read it too. Gale's purpose as a character seems mainly to illustrate the point Chesterton made in Orthodoxy (which Linden has already quoted on her blog) that poets are saner than rationalists, because poets seek to get their head into heaven, while logicians try to cram heaven into their head, and therefore are destroyed. I know I will be re-reading this book many times during the 4 weeks I have it from the library. There are so many layers to its brilliance.

But anyway, here is a collection of my favorite Gale quotes from the first two chapters alone. I have trimmed some by taking out descriptions and such between his continuous dialogue, to save room. I might add more as I get further into the book, who knows?

'"Excuse me," he said, "I often [do handstands]. It's all very well to talk about being topsy-turvy. But when the angels hang head downwards, we know they come from above. It's only those that come from below that always have their noses in the air. . . Shall I tell you a secret? The world is upside down. We're all upside down. We're all flies crawling on a ceiling, and it's an everlasting mercy that we don't drop off."' (p. 21)

'"We were talking about St. Peter," he said; "you remember that he was crucified upside down. I've often fancied his humility was rewarded by seeing in death the beautiful vision of his boyhood. He also saw the landscape as it really is: with the stars like flowers, and the clouds like hills, and all men hanging on the mercy of God."' (p. 22)

'"Do you call that practical? You can only forbid him to die. Can you persuade him to live? Believe me, that is where we come in. A man must have his head in the clouds and his wits wool-gathering in fairyland, before he can do anything so practical as that."' (p. 14)

'Gale still lay in the shadow of the thick trees staring up at the birds, as if he had never stirred. Garth called to him by name, but it was only after a silence that Gale spoke. What he said was:
"Were you ever an isosceles triangle?"
"Very seldom," replied Garth with restraint. "May I ask what the devil you are talking about?"
"Only something that I was thinking about," answered the poet, lifting himself up to one elbow. "I wondered whether it would be a cramping sort of thing to be surrounded by straight lines, and whether being in a circle would be any better. Did anybody ever live in a round prison?"' (p. 39)

'"I used to want a hammer to smash things with," continued Gale; "but I've learnt to do something else with a hammer, which is what a hammer is meant for; and every now and then I manage to do it."
"What do you mean by that?" inquired the doctor. 
"I can hit the right nail on the head," answered the poet.' (p. 41)

'"Would it do, I wonder, when one has changed a cheque into gold, to give a man coppers, instead, and explain that they have more of the rich tones of sunset?"' (p. 43)

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

If you're not wearing green, consider yourself pinched. 

Of course, I should let you know that my dance teacher's Irish father, who was one of the most prominent Irish dancers in the world, always insisted that good ol' Patrick wore blue, not green, and so therefore you should be wearing blue too. I've got all my bases covered; a silver Celtic comb holding up my hair, my Claddagh ring on my finger, green Celtic knotwork shirt, green shoes, blue jeans, and green leprechaun socks :D

But seeing as this day is not just about colors, but about St. Patrick himself, I thought I'd post "The Shield of Saint Patrick" today in celebration. Later I will be celebrating with good Irish food and dance and . . . erm, a microeconomics midterm, but why not start the day by celebrating the man himself and what he stood for?

The Shield of Saint Patrick

'I bind unto myself today the strong name of the trinity,
by invocation of the same, the Three in One, the One in Three.

'I bind this day to me forever by power of faith Christ's incarnation,
His baptism in the Jordan river, his death on the cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spiced tomb, his riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom I bind unto myself today.

'I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, his might to stay, his ear to hearken to my need,
The wisdom of my God to teach, his hand to guide, his shield to ward,
The Word of God to give me speech, his heavenly host to be my guard.

'Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me;
Christ to comfort and restore me;
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

'I bind unto myself the name, the strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three,
Of whom all nature hath creation, eternal Father, Spirit, Word;
Praise to the God of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord!'

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Quotation T-Shirt Challenge, Woot!


Every book-lover should make one of these. It's so much fun.
So is that my challenge to you for April? Um . . . why yes, I believe it is ^_^
This was a summer project I set for myself the summer before I left for college--and yes, I did mean to post pics and stuff sooner, but one thing drives out another, so to speak *wink*. I bought this t-shirt at Jo-Ann's for about 3 dollars, and a pack of fabric pens for about the same. Those are the only supplies needed, apart from a whole lotta booklovin'.
Trouble is, I'm now sort of out of room . . . so I need to get me another shirt. I did joke about getting some white jeans and writing on those to make a complete outfit, but I think that idea will remain just a joke. Unless I decide to be a library for Halloween. Which, you know, might happen.
Below is a (nearly--I have since added a couple more, I think) complete list of all the quotes that I currently sport around campus. Enjoy!


“Learning!” Eilonwy declared. “I’ve been up to my ears in learning. It doesn’t show, so it’s hard to believe that it’s there.”

-The High King, Lloyd Alexander


And thus it came to pass that the Silmarils found their long homes: One in the airs of heaven, and one in the fires of the heart of the world, and one in the deep waters.

-The Silmarillion, JRR Tolkien


“What if man is not really a scoundrel, man in general, I mean, the whole race of mankind—then all the rest is prejudice, simply artificial terrors and there are no barriers and all is as it should be.”

-Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky


“He might tell me how my story ends,” he murmured.

Meggie looked at him in astonishment. “You mean you don’t know?”

Dustfinger smiled . . .

“What’s so unusual about that, princess?” He asked quietly. “Do you know how your story ends?”

-Inkheart, Cornelia Funke


“Let me dream yet awhile.”

-The Worm Ouroboros, ER Eddison


Never again would he glitter and glide

and show himself off in midnight air,

exulting in his riches: he fell to earth

through the battle-strength in Beowulf’s arm.

-Beowulf


“Dear me, what would this barren vocabulary get out of the mightiest spectacle—the burning of Rome in Nero’s time, for instance? . . . ‘Town burned down; no insurance; boy brast a window; fireman brake his neck!’ Why, that ain’t a picture!”

-A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court


“Oh, Ahab, Ahab, lo, thy work.”

-Moby Dick, Herman Melville


“Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!”

-Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson


“Cursed demon! You have met your end! The Shivering Fire awaits you! I shall spread your vile essence across this hall like . . . um, like margarine, a very thick layer of it . . .”

-Ptolemy’s Gate, Jonathon Stroud


“Tell them I came, and no one answered,

That I kept my word,” he said.

-The Listeners, Walter de la Mare


“I wouldn’t care about my spirits,” said Bluebell, “if my legs weren’t so tired. Slugs are lucky to not have legs. I think I’ll be a slug.”

-Watership Down, Richard Adams


“You have no longer a master, Caleb,” said Ravenswood, endeavoring to extricate himself; “why, old man, would you cling to a falling tower?”

-The Bride of Lammermoor, Sir Walter Scott


Better late than never.

-Ab Urbe Condita, Livy


“Do you know I don’t know how one can walk by a tree and not be happy at the sight of it?”

-The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky


“Dear old world,” she murmured, “you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.”

-Anne of Green Gables, LM Montgomery


Sherwood in the twilight,

Is Robin Hood awake?

-A Song of Sherwood, Alfred Noyes


“Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark.”

-The Tale of Despereaux, Kate DiCamillo


Curufin, Celegorm the fair,

Damrod and Diriel were there,

and Cranthir dark, and Maidros tall

(whom after torment would befall),

and Maglor the mighty who like the sea

with deep voice sings yet mournfully.

-The Lay of Leithian, JRR Tolkien


If Sydney Carton every shone anywhere, he certainly never shone in the house of Dr. Manette.

-A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens


“We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful.”

-The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde


“Let’s have different color rabbits, George.”

“Sure we will,” George said sleepily. “Red and blue and green rabbits, Lennie. Millions of ‘em.”

-Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck


Trust dreams.

Trust your heart, and

Trust your story.

-Instructions, Neil Gaiman


When the apple is ripe and falls—why does it fall? Is it because . . . its stalk is withered . . . because the wind shakes it, or because the boy standing under the tree wants to eat it?

-War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy


The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n.

-Paradise Lost, John Milton


“And I write novels!” chimed in the other cop. “Though I haven’t had any published yet, so I better warn you, I’m in a meeeean mood!”

-The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams


“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, here goes—I mean Amen,” said Ransom.

-Perelandra, CS Lewis


“Now,” said Cei, “it is for you to pay me my story.”

-The Mabinogion


“I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”

-Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte


“Lacho calad! Drego morn!”

-The Children of Hurin, JRR Tolkien


Marius was done for. He loved a woman.

-Les Miserables, Victor Hugo


Roland is fierce and

Oliver is wise

And both for valor

May bear away the prize.

-The Song of Roland


From these most holy waters, born anew

I came, like trees by change of calendars 

Renewed with new-sprung foliage through and through,

Pure and prepared to leap up to the stars.

-Purgatorio, Dante


All children, except one, grow up.

-Peter Pan, JM Barrie


“My day has been too long.”

-The Last of the Mohicans, James Fenimore Cooper


Oh hark! Oh hear! How thin and clear,

And thinner, clearer, farther going!

O sweet and far from cliff and scar

The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!

-The Splendor Falls, Alfred Lord Tennyson


“Nothing wrong with me,” said Puddleglum. “Not a frog. Nothing frog with me. I’m a respectabiggle.”

-The Silver Chair, CS Lewis


Of arms I sing, and the hero, destiny’s exile . . .

-The Aeneid, Virgil


The fate of this man or that was less than a drop, although it was a sparkling one, in the great blue motion of the sunlit sea.

-The Once and Future King, TH White


“I am the king of Olaf-land, and there’s nothing you and your sheep can do about it.”

-The End, Lemony Snicket


Anything in any way beautiful derives its beauty from itself and asks nothing beyond itself. Praise is no part of it, for nothing is made worse or better by praise . . .

-Meditations, Marcus Aurelius


“Namarie! Nai hiruvalye Valimar. 

Nai elye hiruva. Namarie!”

-The Fellowship of the Ring, JRR Tolkien


She left the web, she left the room,

She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look’d down to Camelot.

-The Lady of Shalott, Alfred Lord Tennyson


“Er, aha ha. Hello mateys, I was flying my cloud, you see . . .”

-Mossflower, Brian Jacques


If there be any truth to poets’ prophecies, I shall live to all eternity, immortalized by fame.

-Metamorphoses, Ovid


“Leave him build his flutter-mills. The day’ll come, he’ll not even care to.”

-The Yearling, Marjorie Kinnon Rawlings


“You are a knave.”

-Oedipus Rex, Sophocles


I bow not yet before Iron Crown,

Nor cast my own small golden scepter down.

-Mythopoeia, JRR Tolkien


“I’m dying of boredom,” Howl said pathetically. “Or maybe just dying.”

-Howl’s Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones


“Schmendrick,”—for the wizard had just stooped through the doorway—“how many rs in ‘miracle’?”

“Two,” he answered wearily. “It has the same root as ‘mirror’.”

-The Last Unicorn, Peter S Beagle


Cassandra: O Father!

O my brothers! All your brightness dead!

I go. Now in the land of the defeated I

Will mourn my end and Agamemnon’s. I have lived.

-Agamemnon, Aeschyllus


“I followed you.”

“I saw no one.”

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

-His Last Bow; The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


Sing, O goddess, the ruinous wrath of Achilles . . .

-The Iliad, Homer


The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

-Ode to the West Wind, Percy Bysshe Shelley


Two men only have a right to answer the question asked in Ecclesiastes 6,000 years ago, ‘That which is far off and exceedingly deep, who can find it out?’ These two men are Captain Nemo and I.

-20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Jules Verne


How vain are all the hopes of humankind!

How sweet their promises of quiet seem,

And yet they end in shadows, smoke and dream.

-Don Quixote, Cervantes


Ah, she thought wisely, I am dreaming again . . .

-The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Literary Quote #9: The Merchant of Venice

Antonio:   I am dumb.

                                    - William Shakespeare, "The Merchant of Venice"


Yes, yes, of course I know what he really means by that statement. But my mind is juvenile enough that I still can't read it without chuckling. Especially since I quite agree. Thou art dumb, Antonio.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Ah, the Subtleties of Modern Art

So I was climbing up to the third floor of one of my school's libraries, to retrieve the "Pan's Labyrinth" DVD that I put on hold this morning (yes, I do actually have it in my possession now), and I was going casually because I enjoy walking up and down stairs without my ginormous backpack dragging me down.

I noticed that there are pieces of art set at intervals along the way: paintings on walls, and statues on the landings. Even a replica of the Rosetta Stone is set in the wall at one point (and  speaking as one who has seen the real thing I have to say it is nowhere near as beautiful as the original). You know what I mean: the sort of modernist sculptures of metal and stone twisted into weird shapes that make one long for the marbles of Ancient Greece; the fuzzy, colorful paintings that can be made out when squinting and standing on one's head. They give a general air of grandeur and 'class', but on scrutiny I generally find them to be lacking any feel of what I deem as art.

Anyway, I was scrutinizing them anyway, because it was pleasant to be climbing stairs without needing to go to class, and I hoped to find at least one piece of art to really enjoy, and upon the second floor landing there was a sculpture which really caught my attention. It was, to all appearances, a vaguely rounded lump of stone, perhaps knee-high and between one and two feet in width, set upon a pedestal, and colored a greyish, reddish-brown.

What is this? I wondered. And so, since I had time to spare, I walked over and stooped to read the plaque set at the pedestal's foot. And there I read the sculpture's name:

The Rock. 

. . . It is comforting, is it not, to know that the modernist art movement is coming full circle? They now use enormous lumps of stone to make models of rocks. And then display them as wonders.

Speaking as one who has seen the real thing, I have to say that this sculpture is nowhere near as beautiful as the original.