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| 1 |
ID:
128298
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| Publication |
2014.
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| Summary/Abstract |
When the music entered the window . . . both women heard it at the same time. . . . [W]here the yard met the road, they saw the rapt faces of thirty neighborhood women. Some had their eyes closed; others looked at the hot. cloudless sky. Sethe opened the door and reached for Beloved's hand. Together they stood in the doorway. For Sethe it was as though the Clearing had come to her with all its heat and simmering leaves, where the voices of women searched for the right combination, the key, the code, the sound that broke the back of words. Building voice upon voice until they found it, and when they did it was a wave of sound wide enough to sound deep water and knock the pods off chestnut trees. It broke over Sethe and she trembled like the baptized in its wash.
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| 2 |
ID:
128299
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| Publication |
2014.
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| Summary/Abstract |
I first read Walden when l was seventeen. the summer before starting college. at the urging of a high school teacher who sensed that my adolescent mind. brimming with questions, would bene?t from grappling with a truly radical thinker. Much of the book baf?ed me. The tone shifted unpredictably from conversational to prophetic, from jokey to stem, from earthy to mystical. I was bewildered by some of the lengthy sentences, which zigvagged among ideas and images. and l was stumped by the cryptic short ones. which seemed to compress whole paragraphs of meaning into a few words. Not yet having made any big decisions about how to lead my life, I couldn't ?gure out what was troubling this Henry David Thoreau. So what if his neighbors
thought he should use his Harvard degree to land a job and a wife, and then proceed to have kids, buy a
house. get rich. and distribute aims to the poor? Couldn't he just ignore the scolds and go his own way? Not yet having lost a loved one to accident. illness. or old age, I only dimly understood his brood- ing about that amoral process we call nature. So what if armies of red ants and black ants slaugh- tered one another, herons gobbled tadpoles, a dead horse stank up the woods, or a thousand seeds per- ished for each one that took root? What did all that mayhem and waste have to do with us, the owners of souls aiming at heaven ?
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