How times don't change... yet it flies by?!

Well, I am sure there is much being said out on the blog-go-sphere out there, and I doubt I would add much to the analysis and critique of it. Still, it merits a mention only to say how utterly shocked I am about the widespread criminal activity across England. "Shocked" is a word that is being used, and has subsequently become cliched. In truth and without meaning to be cliched, I am horrified, disgusted, angry, sad and just blown away by the recent events. How did this happen? What makes people want to do it? Questions that have all been asked more than I could imagine, but just what the fudge is going on this week?

Is anyone else just bloody embarrassed to be English today? My mate text me from Africa and is like "I am ashamed to be English" and he is hardly visiting the most peaceful place on earth... I have a cousin in the Met, I have friends and family in London and Manchester, I have had fires in my village (not even the dodgy town side, Slough, but in my village!!)

With the three mindlessly motored... I cried when one of the fathers of the murdered men was speaking. I will own it- I sobbed. How can this happen?! I am so upset by this.

A good and trusted friend once told me that I am a simple soul. I see good things that many don't and I miss many bad things... but now I see and I can't see the good things in this. Let it end.

What a post to start on after a nine month absence from blogging... but a worthier post I don't think I have written.

So I put it out there to the void: LET IT END. NOW.

Still, this is not the first time we have riots (btw I really hatethat word... it is criminal activity) and I doubt it will be the last we will hear of this. So, it makes me wonder how much times do not change....

I cannot believe that it has been 9months since I last blogged!!! So much has happened, how so much as flashed by and how times don't change... what has changed for me?

Well, little has changed in my life. I am still in the same job, same lovelife status, still live at home with rentals, same old car, same likes/dislikes... however, I am having a good spurt of social life which I enjoy... although my bank account less so....

Still, here follows the ten things that have recently (or not that recently) occurred:

1) I graduated on 14th July from Royal Holloway. I now have a Masters in Gender and Women's History. Hell yeah! Eat my shorts!

2) I am a Round Tower Tour guide... less exciting, more hardwork, but enjoyable nonetheless...

3) There have been interviews for jobs wooooo.....

4) I am trying to teach myself German- it is surprising how much I remember and it is handy that BBC have pretty handy language pages!

5) Kate and Wills got hitched. Mam and I got merry on champagne, cheap wine and scones with strawberries and cream... gawd that was a fun day! Just chilled at home...

6) The final installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was released.... this should be further up my list!! This was amazing, and I cried for a good 50% of the film! I am so impressed with the entire film except for the last scene which made me feel very awkward!

7) I got tickets to see gymnastics at the Olympics--- wooo yes, I am one of the elite few!!

8) I have started cycling again having de-cobwebbed my bike, washed it down and made it all sparkly! I have also taken up tennis again... good times...

9) I played in the Mens vs Womens cricket match at work and the Queen came- that was super fun although by the time I went to eat, hungry peoples had eaten most of the food which made me mad!! But we had photos with the Queen and everything.... good times!

10) I have been accepted as an early member of Pottermore.com :) this makes me very happy!! lol!!

Anyhoo... watch this space... I shall be hoping to keep this updated (so to with my Twitter account!!) Go the marvels of technology!!

Remember- Christina Rossetti

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

This is what I've always wanted said at my funeral by the way, you know in case I shuffle off this mortal coil in the near future. It is beautiful and so apt about rememberance, grief and needing to get on with daily life. I think i was a little harsh on her in the last blog so I am repenting. This is probably more powerful than Dickinson's poem I typed up in the previous blog... and the sonnet layout works v. effectively... sorry Christina :S

Perhaps I was a little harsh

After Death

Christina Rossetti (1830-1894), contemporaneous with Emily Dickinson, was very similar to her in many ways. Like Emily, Christina never married but she did have her own social circle. However Rossetti did not recede from society like Emily Dickinson did, but Christina did have mental problems following from the nervous breakdown she had when she was 14. Both poets were very religious in their own ways; Emily a Calvinist and Christina was part of the Anglo-Catholic movement. But most importantly they both feared their death towards the end of their lives and reflected this in their poems...

The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept

And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may

Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,

Where though the lattice ivy-shawdows crept.

He leaned above me, thinking that I slept

And could not hear him; but I heard him say:

"Poor child, poor child:" as he turned away

Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.

He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold

That hid my face, or take my ahnd in his,

Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:

He did not love me living; but once dead

He pitied me; and very sweet it is

To know he still is warm though I am cold.

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air-

Between the Heaves of Storm-

The Eyes around- had wrung them dry-

And Breathes were gathering firm

For that last Onset- when the king

Be witnessed-in the Room-

I willed away my Keepsakes- Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable- and then it was

There interposed a Fly-

With Blue- uncertain stumbling Buzz-

Between the light- and me-

And then the Window failed- and then
I could not see to see-

(See here for one of Emily's other poems about her death)

I prefer Emily Dickinson's style of poetry better than Christina's formal sonnet layout. Traditional and over used perhaps... but Emily's use of the dash works a lot better. Her fear of not being able to see into the world of death: "could not see to see" unnerves us because we can't see either because Emily doesn't. the dash leaves us hanging. There is no definite ending. Christina's poem ends on a full stop, which shown next to Emily's dash really puts a definite end to life. It is effective. There is no room for discussion. But I think it would not be as effective if it was not shown side by side next to Emily's poem. Anyways, that is what i think...

A solemn thing- it was- I said-

A solemn thing- it was- I said-
A woman- white- to be-
And wear- if God should count me fit-
Her blameless mystery-

A hallowed thing- to drop a life-
Into the purple well-
Too plummetless- that it return-
Eternity- until-

I pondered how the bliss would look-
And would it feel as big-
When I could take it in my hand-
As hovering-seen through fog-

And then- the size of this "small" life-
The Sages- call it small-
Swelled- like Horizons- in my vest-
And I sneered- softly- "small"!

This peom, like many of Emily Dickinson's, is not to be read on one level. Is it to do with marriage? Highly likely. Religion? Most probably. Death? Again, yes. Each line can be read to prove each theme and this makes Emily Dickinson special. You can read a poem and it mean one thing one time, but the other time it would mean the other thing to you- it is a poem for different moods and since I seem to be on a religious rant at the moment follow this poem along the theme of religion.

By the way I think death is probably the primary interpretation, but argue with me on that as you will. I do! "If God should count me fit" is a definite link to Emily's issue with Calvinism. It was very much at the forefront of her religious insecurity. Calvinist believe that one is predetermined to go to heaven before they are born and no matter what they do on earth can really make much difference. We are inherently good/bad from birth. Emily is very insecure about her own death and whether she would get into heaven. Another link to Emily's thoughts and how this poem represents her life and feelings is that "a woman- white- to be-" refers to Emily being dressed in white all the time when she withdrew from society and become a recluse.

"Hallowed" and "Eternity" all hint at a religious connotation. "Purple" is an ecclesiastical and royal colour. "Plummetless" and "Eternity" make death seem a scary, long drawn out thing. "I pondered how bliss would look" shows that Emily is wondering what heaven looks like. "Seen-through fog-" refers to St. Peter's belief of the 'mist of life' (or something- my bible studies are rusty). "It" to me (in the last stanza) is her life. To her, life is not small. It is everything. The Sages- possibly the saints, angels, God, etc- it is just a small life, but from a personal point of view it is everything.

So, am I right or wrong? I don't know. Perhaps when I meet Emily "in the fair schoolroom of the sky" I will ask what she meant!

(I shall know why- when Time is over-
And I have ceased to wonder why-
Christ will explain each separate anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky-

He will tell me what "peter" promised-
And I- for wonder at his woe-
I shall forget the drop of Anguish
That scalds me now- that scalds me now!)

For other poetry on women in marriage and also marriage blurred with religious service as a nun (possibly) see here.

Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

I truly love Emily Dickinson; a wacky half feminist, half doubting religious nut who became a recluse and wrote poetry of love, death, nature and womanhood (all the things that are important of course!!) and I completely fell in love with her. Trust me, if there ever was a poet for every occasion, this woman had it! This one is a bit more morose and serious, but I promise the next one will be demonstrating the wackier side...

REVIEW II: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I was given some money (thanks by the way :D) specifically to buy books I wanted to read. This book was one, although technically it comes under the child to adolescent category, was not only a bloody amazing book, but rather mature and I really question whether pre-teens and even young teenagers would be suitable to understand the emotions and the frequent casual references made to events that I don't think many would really know about (i.e Holocaust).

Well, let's give you a summary to start, shall we? The Book Thief is narrated by Death, but the plot revolves around Liesel Meminger (the book thief) in Germany during World War II. On the way to her foster parents house with her mother and brother, her brother dies, and it is at his funeral that she steals her first book. Her illiteracy forms a bond with her new 'Papa' Hans Hubermann when he proceeds to teach her how to read. Liesel comes to understand the power of words. Being able to read them empowers her, but it also empowers others: "Without words, the Führer was nothing." After learning how to read she begins to gather more books. She saves books from book burnings and steals some from the Burgermeister's wife's library. Books became the channel through which a closeness to her 'new' family and a Jewish fistfighter, who is hidden in their basement, is formed. It is essentially a story about a girl's perspective of literally surviving Nazi Germany. You will experience titters and tears, trials and tribulations but it is all worth it.

Through Liesel, who never looses her innocence although gathering an understanding far greater than many an adult, we the readers come to the same understanding. Reading provides an escape for her, wither by stealing the book (an act of revenge often) or actually delving into the depths of the book. She helps other like the Jewish fistfight Max and Ilsa Hermann and Frau Holtzapfel. On this small scale, it seems she is undoing the damaging and dividing words of Hitler and his followers. Max calling her the word shaker, like he termed Hitler, highlights this. She has the mastery of words but used them for good. It provides us with an eloquent contrast, especially ironic when he whitewashes the words of Mein Kampf to write his story of the word shaker (Liesel).

The words of Death quietly guiding us through the story are sheer mastery. They guide but do not intrude and the insight we gain alongside the quips and jokes and irony... truly... it is beautifully and delicately written.

There is no judgement towards the end, only acceptance. There is no explanation by Death. That is not his role. He accepts the past and so must we. The narration of Death turns our perception of death upside down. He is not heartless, cruel and uncompromising. He cares and avoids human contact for fear of getting attached. He sees deaths in terms of colours 'coloured' by emotions. He carries off the souls carefully and lovingly. It perverts our typecasting of death. We face the possibility of our death, or at least I did. If death was like this, I would not mind. In the end, he is mainly the cleaner, the janitor, the housekeeper of the world; he is just tidying up after the mess the humans made:"Forget the scythe, God damn it, I needed a broom or a mop."

Well, I think you can guess I enjoyed this book and made me pause for thought. Perhaps too deep. Read it if you ever get a chance. Just make sure you don't have to do anything important in the mean time because Death will get its claws into you and ensure your hooked with hints at what the future holds chapters before it actually occurs making you read on until you know how it happens!

For now, adieu...

just to appreciate IV

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, The Triumph of Death, 1562