Lily Trying to Paint, Talamante


 “They stood there, isolated from the rest of the world. His immense self pity, his demand for sympathy poured and spread itself in pools at her feet, and all she did, miserable sinner that she was, was to draw her skirts a little closer round her ankles, lest she should get wet. In complete silence she stood there, grasping her paintbrush.” Part 3, chapter 2. 

Comments

  1. Krishnan VenkateshMarch 20, 2021 at 10:46 PM

    Wonderful. A growing blob of black, about to devour. One can feel Lily's desperation.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Some ramblings on the poetic -- Miz Eustice Poetry seems to be borne of and to live more in the realm of imagination than reason if the mind can be so generally categorized. Or perhaps it should be said that it is some mixture of heart and brain. I’m not sure. Sometimes I think it's divine.   I’m not sure where else its strange greatness could come from. I’m not even sure how to describe what poetry is. It is not just its form, its sounds, it is more than the sum of its parts. I read somewhere once that poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.   Poetry is not like reason, it is not a power exercised by the will. Perhaps one can will oneself to write poetry, but not great poetry. It is more within the general grasp to reason correctly than to make something beautiful. I can only imagine what it is like to do such a thing. Creation seems mysterious, and there is something almost seraphic in it—something invisible and intangible and temperamental that rises from within in an o...
Read more

Some Post-Discussion Reflections on Dickinson’s “Because I could not stop for Death –” by Ms. Bucher

Image
   Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun – Or rather – He passed Us – The Dews drew quivering and Chill – For only Gossamer, my Gown – My Tippet – only Tulle – We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground – The Roof was scarcely visible – The Cornice – in the Ground – Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity – Photo: “Because I could not stop for Death –” fanart found on Etsy   Some music that may set the mood: Igor Stravinsky's Elegy for Solo Viola .
Read more

Genealogy Reflections in “The Bear" (Bucher)

  Gen ealogy Reflections in “The Bear” by Ms. Bucher   We have spent much time in class stumbling over the genealogy in Go Down, Moses . When trying hard to follow the twisted, obscure genealogy, it is clear that the McClaslin family tree is a complicated double helix of both white and black branches. But the power of the family dynamic becomes even more powerful the moment that Issac McClaslin, grandson of patriarch Lucius Quintus Carothers McClaslin, pushes away his inheritance of the plantation. The question brought up in class many times still plagues me: Why does he reject his rightful ownership of the family land? Possible reasons come to mind easily: He may not want the responsibility for the care and support of all the people, both black and white, that live and work the land. He has been raised in large part by Sam Fathers who taught him to love nature, the wild, and the liberty of a life unfettered by any interest in social or economic expectations. And he needs to b...
Read more