Now I'm too young to have been a fan of Donna Summer's as a kid since she was at the height of her career when I was just wee lad. It wasn't until I got to be a bit older, college, that I really got into disco music. And you can't be a fan of disco, without being a fan of Donna Summer. Now I wasn't one of those that got upset with her over the supposed comments she made about gay people and AIDS. It happened during the 80s and her haters tried to bring it back up in the 90s, but I really didn't care. She denied ever saying it, and I have to give her the benefit of the doubt. Despite the controversy, all I cared about was the music. It's what she will be remembered for. It was sad to learn she sucummbed to cancer early this morning. I hope she is in a better place and is at peace.
It's been a while since I've shared some of the stuff that has struck my interest or has me adding to my wish list. So I thought I would take a few minutes and let you in on some of them.
I've been rather lax in my NPR listening, but I try to catch The Diane Rehm Show as often as I can. For whatever reason we have a bunch of people at work who like to discuss religion and their feelings on it. For the most part the discussion stays civil, but I think all of us are rather set in our beliefs, though I also think most of us are willing to listen. Interestingly, in the last few weeks I have heard discussions over two new books that talk about religion and the way it is changing in our society. Bad Religion: How We Became a Nation of Heretics by explores the idea of how people have changed away from "traditional" Christianity and how that is hurting the country. The New Religious Intolerance: Overcoming the Politics of Fear in an Anxious Age by Martha Nussbaum explores religious persecution and the fear it instills in everyone. They are both fascinating discussions with the authors, and I know I really want to read both books now.
Two "newer" social media sites have been sucking my times lately, though one more than the other. If anyone is on Pinterest or GetGlue, please feel free to follow me on those two sites as well.
And while I'm mentioning other websites to waste time, I have to mention Pogo.com. Now I know it's not new, nor is it a new find for me, but I've found myself going back more often lately to play my favorite games. Whether it's Monopoly, Boggle Bash, Scrabble, dominoes, or hearts, I'm loving the game play on there again.
A few weeks ago I was complaining to a friend of mine that I don't see many butterflies anymore. I remember being a kid in MN and seeing tons of them all the time. Well needless to say, a few days ago a ton of them showed up out of the blue in my neighborhood. Now I've never been very good about identifying them, so I looked up this website, Butterflies and Moths of North America, and got to work. I sort of suck at this by the way, and I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for. First of all, they are very hard to take pictures of when the winds are blowing, and this is Kansas so winds are always blowing. I did manage to get three decent pics though. It's a new camera so the pictures aren't the best.
And last, but not least I would like to share a song that I've been listening to a lot lately. When Anne Rice wrote her novel, Violin, there was a soundtrack put out as well. Leila Josefowicz was the violinist chosen to perform on the album, and my favorite song on it was "Moon Over Bourbon Street," which was composed by her and Sting. I recently started listening to it again.
I received a hardcover of The Uninvited Guests by Sadie Jones for an upcoming TLC Book Tour
I bought a trade paperback of Ship of Fools by Katherine Anne Porter from Barnes & Noble. This is a book I've wanted to read since high school, so I'm really looking forward to it.
On a trip to Wal-Mart I picked up a DVD of Disney's Beauty and the Beast since it's going back into the vault at the end of the month. I also dug around the $5 music bin for a bit and found Don't Be Cruel by Bobby Brown (his second and best album) and Super Hits by New Kids On The Block.
I think I can honestly say that I never thought of American culture without Dick Clark being there. Whether he was on American Bandstand, $24,000 Pyramid, TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes, The American Music Awards, or Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve; he has been in our living rooms since 1952.
I remember watching American Bandstand as a kid and wanting nothing more than to be there, dancing and having a great time. The show ended before I ever got old enough to wake that dream come true, but that show lived on in my heart for years after. Now with Youtube, I get to relive some of those dreams all over again.
Dick Clark is one of those pop culture icons that will never completely disappear from the American psyche, nor should he. He helped shape the musical taste for generations of Americans and has earned not only our respect but our love as well. He will be missed.
The lovely Deb of The Reading Frenzy also moderates the Fiction General Discussion Board on the Barnes & Noble's book club site. She had reviewed Bereft by Chris Womersley on her blog and it was a book I thought I may really enjoy. So when Deb emailed me and asked if I wanted to participate in a conversation about the book in May for the B&N board, I jumped at the chance. When I got the ARC in the mail the other day, I was even more excited.
I received a trade paperback of Asgard Park by Ronald Simonar from the publicist for review.
I received a trade paperback of The Dressmaker of Khair Khana by Gayle Tzemach Lemmon for an upcoming TLC Book Tour.
I need to learn to never go into Best Buy without an actual goal in mind. Friday, when I decided to meander into the store, I really had no clue what I was looking for. So when I ended up walking out with Underworld: Rise of the Lycans on DVD for $4, Celebration by Madonna (think The Immaculate Collection plus her newer hits), and a Triple Feature CD featuring 3 of Whitney Houston's albums for $9, I was lucky to get out without even more.
I guess I've been in a music centered mood lately. I took a trip to the flea market today and walked out with 9 vinyl records for $1 each. Only three of them were for me. I picked up Winner In You by Patti Labelle, Whenever You Need Somebody by Rick Astley, and Magic by The Jets.
No matter how many times the death of a celebrity takes me by surprise or makes me remember a particular song or movie that moved me, I'm never prepared for something quite like the death of Whitney Houston.
I was at work tonight when I first heard the news. One of my employees said he heard it on the radio, and I refused to believe him at first. For some bizarre reason I thought he was joking, though why you would joke about something like that is beyond me. I had to leave the store and go to one of the restaurants in the mall because they always have CNN on. I stood there for about 5 minutes in a little bit of shock. It's not because I personally knew her or even felt as if I did. Instead it felt as if part of my childhood and young adult life has suddenly disappeared.
I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't listen to her. She had one of those voices that moved me, even when I was too young to really understand the words. I stayed with her through the 80s and 90s, hoping and praying that she would get away from a destructive marriage to Bobby Brown. I cheered when she finally left him, and prayed for a big comeback. Though she never regained the status she once had, she never faded in talent or strength of mind. I loved her new music as much as I did her older hits.
She is a talent and human being who will be missed by millions. I pray for her friends and family. I for one will be one of those who will miss her new music that will never be created, but I will take comfort in all that she has done before.
This was the week of my last buying binge for a while. I go into stores and I just can't help myself. I really do need my hands slapped one of these days.
I received a trade paperback of The Dispatcher by Ryan David Jahn for an upcoming TLC Book Tour.
The lovely Becke of The Mysterious Garden Muse, just so happens to be the moderator of the mystery board over at Barnes & Noble. She generously, without my knowing about it, a package of three books. They were a hardcover of The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe (I couldn't find the correct cover anywhere), a paperback of The Gift Shop by Charlotte Armstrong, and a hardcover A Puzzle for Fools by Patrick Quentin (again not the right cover.)
This is where I went a little crazy. I went to Barnes & Noble to pick up a trade paperback of The Man in the Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart that I had ordered. While there I picked up a paperback of From Hell With Love by Simon R. Green. They have a great CD sale right now, buy 2 get 1 for free, so I picked up The Italian by Patrizio, Ultimate Dolly Parton, and Crystal Gayle Greatest Hits. That trip happened on Friday.
Then today (Sunday) I went to exchange a few books that I was given as a gift. Since the gift giver could not find a receipt I had to trade them in at the lowest price, I think I got robbed a bit on this. So I picked up a trade paperback of The Circular Staircase by Mary Roberts Rinehart and 3 more CDs. I got Forever Begins Tonight by Patrizio, Patrizio, and The Artist Collection: Julie London.
On Friday (it was my big shopping day; clothes, camera, the whole enchilada) I stopped in at Target, don't remember why though. While I was there, I picked up a Blue-Ray of American Psycho since it was on sale for $5. I also got Bambi on Blue-Ray since it was on sale as well.
Once again I must apologize for allowing life to get in the way of having a brilliantly written new post for you to enjoy. This bronchitis or whatever the crap it is is still kicking me in the butt and my cough doesn't seem to be getting any better. I have days where I don't cough much at all and then I have some where it seems I'm doing it all the time. I'm also going on a staycation from work over the weekend so I've been working open to close the last few days in order to get everything I need done before I take 4 days off. I promise that next week I will have something new and shiny for you to enjoy. In the meantime please let me reintroduce you to a character that I first posted about in 2099. She is still the only character to come from poem though I have a few others that I have thought about. So with no further ado, here is The Lady of Shalott.
I'm not sure I can really describe why this poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson gets to me the way it does. Why the main character of this beautifully written work makes me want to cry every time I read what happens to her. Nor am I going to give an academic dissertation on the themes found in this work. That is for another time. What I'm going to try and explain here is what I feel when I read this poem and why The Lady of Shalott is my third pick for My Favorite Fictional Character.
As most people who have read this poem, I encountered it for the first time in my Senior English class in high school. All I remember is reading along in class and having this well of emotion come out that I'm not sure had ever been brought out by any other poem. It was a feeling of utter sadness and regret for this woman who was condemned to live alone with no physical contact from the outside world.
She is loosely based off of Elaine of Astolat from the Arthurian legends. Though many of the details from the poem are not to be found in the original story. We meet her as a woman living in a tower that sits on an island in the middle of a river. She is physically isolated from any other human being. Her only view of the comings and goings around her is through a mirror. If she were to gaze directly out the window a curse would come over her so she has never chosen to do such a thing before. One day Sir Lancelot rides by and the Lady of Shalott is so enchanted by what she sees that she looks out the window and with the breaking of her mirror she condemns herself to death. The rest of the poem recounts her journey down the river to Camelot and her eventual death.
What really upset me the first time I read this was Sir Lancelot's response once the Lady reaches Camelot lying dead in her boat. As a young man I found it to be callous and cold. Upon later reflection I really couldn't blame him, for how is he to know the small role he played in this tragedy.
Her story had stuck with me since then and I tend to read the poem many times throughout a normal year. I have the above print by Waterhouse framed and hanging in my living room and I listen to Loreena McKennitt sing the poem about as often as I read it. The sadness and total isolation she felt still gets to me and I end up putting myself in her shoes. If I were ever in her situation would I eventually get to the point where I would say "I am half sick of shadows", damn the consequences and choose to live just one last moment in the world.
I' m not sure I can fully express the emotions this poem and it's "hero" convey in me so I will post the poem here and let you read it for yourself.
The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the bearded barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal Knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
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.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
This is the talented Loreena McKennitt putting the poem to song.
