An Uncommonplace Book

              I have always been a collector. As a child, I collected rocks, then bottlecaps (which collection was meager and short-lived), and then dice of various sizes and colours. I think that this stemmed more from a desire to possess defining characteristics than from a real interest in any of the items concerned. I recall one endeavour in which I attempted to keep up a book of hubcaps- when I saw a car passing by, I would examine its hubcaps and draw a quick sketch of it in my notebook. I don't really know what possessed me to do this; I got bored with it after a day.
             I haven't collected anything like rocks or bottlecaps or hubcaps in many years. It has ceased to interest me. However, I still have the impulses of a collector. I think that I've always looked at life itself as a process of collecting. Doing new and exciting things means collecting experiences. Reading means collecting ideas or information. Meeting new people means collecting personalities, listening to music means collecting bands and artists, and so on and so forth. I collect things this way because I want things to love. Every new thing I encounter in life, I evaluate as something to be loved or forgotten, and if it is to be loved (which it nearly always is) then it gets folded neatly somewhere in my mind, to be thought over fondly someday.
            The practice of collecting various things manifested itself long ago in Commonplace books. First invented in Italy, they were meant as a way for individuals to collect information, ideas, quotes-- anything they might find useful. In the 17th Century, this practice of collecting scraps of existence was part of an Oxford education.
            (If you would like to know more about Commonplace books, I got my information here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commonplace_book).
            The idea of losing something frightens me. I am always afraid that I will forget something beautiful that I have happened upon. That is why I decided some time ago that I would keep a book of  favourite passages from the books I read. That way, when I find some articulated idea which is particularly breathtaking, I can store it away to be reviewed when I like. I've begun several quote-books, in note-books already containing other things, and also in my phone. I have never had a note-book whose sole purpose was to gather quotes in-- that is, until now. The other day I happened upon a very pretty address-book my mother gave to me a while ago (buried under clutter on the floor), and I thought I would devote it to this higher purpose. Since I have a shaky knowledge, at best, of the requirements of a Commonplace book, I decided that I would title my new quote-book the Uncommonplace book.
          Here are a few quotes that I've gathered so far; not all of them have been added into the Uncommonplace Book just yet:
   
          "Routine comes down like twilight on a harsh landscape, softening it until it is tolerable."                                                                                   -F. Scott Fitzgerald. The Beautiful and Damned.

          "Anthony laughed, thrown immediately into that humor in which men and women were graceless and absurd phantasms, grotesquely curved and rounded in a rectangular world of their own building."
                                                                            -F. Scott Fitzgerald. The Beautiful and Damned.
 
        
          "There is a world that poets cannot seem to enter. It is the world that everyone else lives in. And the only thing poets seem to have in common is their yearning to enter this world."
                                                                           -Mary Ruefle. Madness, Rack, and Honey.


           "Men hate passion, any great passion. Henry Cameron made a mistake: he loved his work. That was why he fought. That was why he lost."
                                                                           -Ayn Rand. The Fountainhead.


           "The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't."
                                                                         -Douglas Adams. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

           "What a mournful moment is that in which society withdraws itself and gives up a thinking being forever."
                                                                            -Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.

          

Keep Creating

        I think that one of my greatest fears is that I will never be able to have any of my writing published. It is a discouraging thought. Sometimes I wonder what I am doing with myself. I wonder if I am only deceiving myself, selfishly following a dream that I have no right to follow, when I could be making myself more useful in another field. I suppose this is a fear that most aspiring artists have at some point; that perhaps, despite their efforts, they will never be recognized. The world is full of brightly burning minds, all competing for attention. Some few will get it. The rest will either work themselves to exhaustion and receive little recognition for their efforts, or will give up entirely and find some more stable enterprise. Their work will fall into some dark crevice and lie there forgotten, and no one will ever know it came into being.
         I find comfort in one thing. When a person has an idea, and breathes life into it, they bring something into the world that was not there before. Perhaps this new thing, whatever it may be-- a song, a poem, a painting-- may never become well-known. Perhaps only a handful of people will ever hear of it, or perhaps no one besides the maker will ever find pleasure in it, but the fact remains that something has been created. This in itself is beautiful and miraculous. 
        There is a line in the song "Subdivisions" by Rush, that says, "some will sell their dreams for small desires." I think it means that some people will give up on the things that matter to them in favour of fulfilling other wants, such as having financial security or fitting in with the people around them. Don't sell your dreams for small desires. Whatever it is that you create, keep doing it. It doesn't matter if you never become “successful” in the worldly sense of the word. If there are dreams in your head, let them out and give them life.

Avoiding Homework

One of the many ways I avoided homework last semester was freewriting. Sometimes it was random thoughts or feelings, sometimes it was story ideas or scenes, and sometimes it was the skeleton of a poem.
This is the product of one of my assignment-dodging escapades. It's not a very good or long poem, of course. I only wanted to play with different uses of certain verbs, so I suppose it's more of a mental exercise than an actual poem. I read it over this afternoon and made some changes. What do you think?

                                                                       I make coffee

                                                                       I make promises

                                                                       I make faces

                                                                       I make change

                                                                       I take criticism

                                                                       I take walks

                                                                       I take aspirin

                                                                       I take time

                                                                       I break dishes

                                                                       I break hearts

                                                                       I break even

                                                                       I break out

Summer Reading

I'm trying to compile a summer reading list at the moment- by trying, I mean fantasizing about all the wonderful books that I could read but probably won't. Unfortunately, it takes me a very long time to get through a book. I tend to read in short, sporadic bursts, because I have trouble sitting still and focusing on one subject for any extended period of time.

I've divided my current list into fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. (This is probably the most organized thing I've done today.)

Fiction:

Howl's Moving Castle: Diana Wynne Jones

-The Studio Ghibli film version of this book was one of my most hardcore obsessions as a pre-teen. I'm actually almost finished with the book, and I'm enjoying it muchly. It places fantasy into a charming Victorian atmosphere, two things that I always appreciate. There are quite a few major differences between book and film so far, which oddly enough hasn't altered my opinion of the film. Though I think I really do prefer book-Howl, even though film-Howl has such fabulous hair.  

                                            

                                                                 
                                                          (Image from dvdbeaver.com)

Name of the Wind- Patrick Rothfuss 

-I'm about a quarter of the way into this one. It's another fantasy, a lot more serious than Howl's Moving Castle. My boyfriend lent it to me last August, but for reasons listed above I still haven't finished it. I'm hoping to be able to give it back to him by the end of the summer!

The Fountainhead- Ayn Rand

-I don't exactly know why, but I've gotten it into my head that I have to read something by Ayn Rand. I first heard of her when I was trying to learn more about Rush, a favourite band of mine. I read that the drummer and main lyricist, Neil Peart, was greatly influenced by her work. The Fountainhead was described to me at an impromptu gathering one evening at a dimly lit Vietnamese restaurant (perhaps this added somewhat to the book's allure), and it seemed like an interesting story. Mostly because I understood from the description that the protagonist believes that his art is more important than anything else, and that is something I respect.

The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls- Emilie Autumn

-I am not actually quite sure if I want to read this one or not. I've always been attracted to the idea of asylums, and this one blends modern asylum experiences with Victorian ones. Emilie Autumn is also an amazing over-the-top musician, and I really enjoyed the concept album (Fight Like a Girl) based off her book.

                                                 

                                                                         (fanpop.com)

In addition to these, I've decided to begin the Harry Potter series again from the beginning. I've read the first two books numerous times, and the third book once. I never finished the fourth book, and I started the fifth book anyway, so I suppose I should try to read them through properly this time.

Nonfiction:

Structure and Surprise: Michael Teune

-I was actually supposed to have read this book for a poetry writing class last semester. It presents a number of different rhetorical structures used in poetry, and gives examples to help the reader better comprehend them. I think this might be useful in my own writing. I believe there are some writing prompts in the book, as well; I might try my hand at a few of them and share the results here. The Ironic structure looks particularly fun.

Ten Days in a Madhouse: Nellie Bly

-This is the experience of a young journalist who pretended to be insane in order to get inside a mental institution and report on the treatment of the patients. Apparently they were very poorly cared for, and after publishing her report, conditions were improved.

Poetry:

Enough Rope: Dorothy Parker

-I've been meaning to read more by Dorothy Parker for some time. She's a wonderfully snarky writer. Most of the poems that I've read of hers evoke a kind of tragic cynicism. I might do a post about her sometime; from what I've read about her life, she was a fascinating person.

Elegy for the Departure and other poems: Zbigniew Herbert

-This book of poems was given to me by a professor. I know very little about it, except that it's a collection of poems written by a prominent figure of the anti-communist movement in Poland.

I'm hoping to get through a good number of these this summer. We'll see, because I've just discovered a new obsession: The Addams Family tv show from the 1960s. I'll be posting on that soon, as well.

Is there anything you are planning to read this summer?