Like Attending My Own Funeral

Beltane                                                                                 Early Growth Moon

Sort of like attending my own funeral.   All day today notes have come in from docent classmates responding to my resignation from the program which I sent out in a private newsletter we have just for our class.  Mini-eulogies.  It’s interesting because it is often this kind of stuff that we don’t feel liberated to say until a relationship has been severed, either by death or by saying a permanent good-bye.  Would probably be good if we could learn to say these things more often.  Thanks to all of you who’ve written.

The revision process has legs now, new material being written, older material rewritten.  I’m back in the fictive dream of Missing, inhabiting the two worlds and living with their characters, their flora and fauna.  It’s a homecoming of sorts.  Though I’ve been into for a month or so in terms of writing, I’ve been at it for longer with reading material from beta readers, re-reading the text myself and plotting a strategy for this third revision.

Put another 5 verses of Book I into English today, making better and more notes about items for the commentary.  I really want this commentary to synch with Perseus, but I also want it to live on smartphones and tablet computers.  I want it to be the commentary for this media age.

Greg and I talked last Friday about how this kind of reading necessarily becomes close reading, a sort of reading often promoted, but less often executed.   You might call it slow reading.

Speed reading has its place, I guess, and I certainly tried to put it to use, having taken the Evelyn Woods program when I started college in 1965.  This program preaches adapting your speed to the kind of reading you’re doing.  So, say Time magazine or Sports Illustrated (of equal depth most of the time) might take your quickest scan, finger moving down the center of the page with some speed.  Philosophy on the other hand would go much more slowly, say 150 words a minute.  The idea preached by speed readers is that the quicker you go the more your mind concentrates on reading alone, not wandering away.  Maybe.

What I do know is that if you want to learn, slowing down to the pace translation forces, often word by word, looking up the word, its grammatical forms, figuring out how they fit together before the sense of the sentence begins to emerge, then you read slowly.  Letting the mind wander when it will, tracking words down through paths already in the mind, making connections, asking questions, probing the text.  This is how you make a work your own.

So, I’m for slow food, slow travel, slow reading, slow thinking.

 

Folk

Beltane                                                                 Early Growth Moon

Listening to 1960’s folk on Pandora.  Forgot how much folk music figured in the 1960’s.  I remember my first anti-American rhetoric coming in the Black Swan Coffee House in Stratford, Ontario where I was for the Shakespeare Festival.  It was an anti-Vietnam folk song sung in what would have been 1963 or so.  We were had barely begun our operations in Vietnam at that time.

Many of the early protest songs were folk songs, following the long, already established tradition among labor organizers.  There’s something about the acoustic, often with no band, that speaks deeper to me.  Kate and I support Folk Alley, too, which plays contemporary folk along with the occasional older songs.

The Coffee House circuit was big in the 1960’s a type of caffeine bar very different from Starbucks and Caribou.  They are coffee house lite, almost not there as cultural institutions, with their isolated patrons floating on the web while sipping pretentiously named drinks.  The 1960’s coffee house was more in line with the 18th and 19th century versions in England where much of the early scientific and industrial revolutions got their start.  The main difference is that the 1960’s version featured political plotting, resolve boosting through music and plenty of buzz to work on the next protest late into the night.