The little green one hundred year old book on the right is the book I’ve just read last and reviewed recently on this blog, The Faery Queene I by Edmund Spenser. I read his apologetic humble note about the book in the introduction after I’d completed my review and it made me feel that maybe I’d envisioned the man pretty true to life.
This book is antique and although I held it gently and supported its spine as I’d read, it still cracked a little with the shock of being open and read, (I don’t know when it was read last), but it’s been given that good adhesive that makes it seem so much more like a brand new book with a second chance at life! But still hold it gently if you borrow this one from the library; it’s still fragile and will be one hundred years of age in about eight more years.
Yesterday evening, I lay a paper towel down on the kitchen counter and added a little bit of glue on a Q-tip to its spine, a very careful and loving sort of operation and it rested untouched over-night.
I popped open the Hemingway then that I’d begun before The Faery Queene—The Sun Also Rises but it was still not my desired book to read now, and I feel I’ll probably read it again when I’d like to try to bear getting back into that 1950s-style bar atmosphere with the male characters with seemingly flat views of life and women (and maybe the men with very much-so-side parts.)
I set that book aside and I started the next Hemingway I’d also borrowed from the library, For Whom The Bell Tolls (1940) and I liked it right away! I imagined the forest and clear flowing stream for a meditative reading experience, which is a type more about mindfulness and envisioning than symbolism and literary criticism (for now.)
On a side note, I’d been very upset and angered about the ongoing forest fires (and poor air quality) burning and affecting the West, Midwest, Canada, and other parts of Asia and the world more directly, but I’ve decided not to write about the issue myself; I’m learning about caring for the environment a little at a time in practice and doing my own daily life part.
I was dreaming of some great forest land last night when a very potent scent came into the landscape, so that I’d said in the dream, ‘Why is this marijuana smoke crashing my dream?’
I could imagine right away the relaxing mountain scene in For Whom The Bell Tolls was a clear, simple nature view and then these very stupid characters come in and make me amused by their dialogue and inner thoughts written by an intelligent author. This way, I am more focused on the story unfolding before me than getting a little pissed off at the author himself. I wouldnt’ve been mean though, maybe just a little push that wouldn’t send him very far across the room. 😊
Some passages had me laugh at the subtlties and sarcasm like, ‘That’s a dirty Hemingway.’ But it’s all presentable humor.
When I went to Boston this weekend, which you can see a few highlights of places in the post previous to this one today, Dan had a new beer he’d ordered. I’d asked what it was called. He said ‘CloudScape. Squirrel CloudScape.’ I said, ‘Cloudscape😊…hmmm,’ tasted a sip, and then I said, ‘Did you say it was ‘Squirrel’ before the CloudScape?’ He said, ‘Yes. Squirrel CloudScape.’ I said, ‘That’s why it tastes like that.’ 🤭 👎
Earlier: A Late July Saturday Walk in Boston