Bedtime Reading


 

A habit I acquired years ago, perhaps even during my childhood, is reading just before I go to sleep.  Picking the right books remains key unless you want to stay up half the night either reading or thinking about something horrifying or depressing you’ve read. Lately, my reading has not been conducive to sweet dreams.  Earlier this week I finished Among the Ruins, an Iranian mystery of sorts, by Ausma Zehanat Khan.  It’s fiction but one of the characters writes letters from prison which are anything but cheery.  Now I am reading the Pulitzer Prize winner, The Return.  Since Hisham Matar never saw his father again after he was captured and hauled off to a Libyan prison, sleep inducing it is not.  Last night I decided perhaps for bedtime I needed to find something not exactly boring but somewhat less stimulating.  It may take me all summer given that The Silk Roads, A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan is 505 pages.  If I get bored with that, I can go back to two books I reread off and on and save for bedtime reading, When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams and Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz, Selected Works translated by Edith Grossman.  Both inspire reflection and contemplation.  For those who do not know Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz, she lived in Mexico in the 1600s.  She became famous for her intellectual capacity, her poetry, and was referred to as “the Phoenix of Mexico” when women rarely rose to such heights.

What are you reading this summer?

 

A Week of Wonder and Flowers


 

This past week was my birthday.  The wonder started a week ago when my friends came for dinner and my friend’s father, visiting from Mexico. brought me red roses.  I had not seen my friends in a long time and it was fun.  Then on Sunday, Roberto, the father, and I went hiking in Palo Duro Canyon on a new trail.  I never saw a name for it.

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We found this trail by starting at Chinaberry (for those who go to the Canyon), taking Comanche Trail up to this new trail.  When they intersect, we went north rather than south on Comanche.

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If you read the previous blog in December about hiking Comanche, you saw this peak but from the center and to the south.  This is a view from the north looking south.

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Eventually, after hiking up and down across an arroyo, you end up above the river which looks tiny here, but when a big rain comes, it can rise many feet in a few hours.  It was very sunny, I had a hard time focusing so occasionally a finger got in the way.

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Roberto has a funny sense of humor.  He could not resist pretending to hold up one of the many giant boulders along the trail.

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This is not a difficult walk and not too long if you only have a few hours.  We came across a group of wild turkeys, but they moved so much, I was unable to get a good photo so gave up.

Wednesday was my birthday.  It began with my first period class–I teach senior high school English.  They showered the room with confetti, brought me a giant chocolate muffin with a candle in the middle, lit the candle and sang me Happy Birthday.  Then during second period, two of my students arrived with two bouquets of flowers.  The room smelled wonderful for three days.  I brought the flowers home yesterday in a big box.

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My grandson told the florist to make me a giant bouquet with exotic flowers.  This is one side of it.  Orchids, roses, hydrangeas, and some really unusual flowers which I cannot identify.

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This is the other side of the same bouquet.

This bouquet is from my son.  He knows my favorite color is orange and that I have a lot of that color in my house so….

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I am seriously nerdy and asked for an atlas for my birthday.  My daughter outdid herself and bought this one full of all sorts of information I never expected and maps.  I love maps.  When I read a book from Latin America, Africa, etc., I look up the places on maps.

Last night I sang songs, using the poems of Octavio Paz and Pablo Neruda among others, with the Amarillo Master Chorale in a church with perfect acoustics for choral music.  Tonight I will see friends at an opera party.  What a wonderful week!!

Naked and Unafraid: Mahasveta Devi (1926-2016)


A powerful story of the power of woman and in this case of “right”.

Vibha Shetiya's avatarFeminism and Religion

03devi-obit-master768 Photo credit: The New York Times

Mahasveta Devi died last month at the age of 90 in Kolkata, India. A widely acclaimed Bengali writer, she identified as an activist first, clearly evident in her meticulously researched “fiction.” Most of her stories champion the cause of those living on the margins of society, particularly the Adivasis or original inhabitants of India; poor, unemployed and itinerant, they traditionally subsisted off the land, and continue to struggle against exploitative upper caste landowners.

I cannot claim to be an expert on Devi or her activism, but there is a story I read a few years ago, which never fails to haunt me, whether because of the rawness with which she describes the harsh reality faced by tribal people or because of what can be seen as the violent but ultimate triumph of its female protagonist, I cannot tell. Perhaps because of both, or because…

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Modern Politics and Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz


Who would think that a Mexican woman who wrote poetry more than three hundred years ago would have anything applicable to today’s political arena?  About one and one half years ago, my daughter returned from a business trip with a little gift, a translation of Sor Juana’s work.  It is not the sort of literature I sit down and read all the way through.  It is deep, questioning, the sort of literature you savor here and there.  A few minutes ago I opened the book once again to read one of her ballads–typically referred to as romances.   However, this is not exactly a romance.  It reads:

“One who is sad criticizes

the happy man as frivolous;

and one who is happy derides

the sad man and his suffering.

 

The two philosophers of Greece

offered perfect proofs of this truth;

for what caused laughter in one man

occasioned tears in another.

 

The contradiction has been framed

for centuries beyond number,

yet which of the two ways was correct

has so far not been determined;

 

instead, into two factions

all people have been recruited,

temperament dictating which

band each person will adhere to.”

 

This is only a small portion of the ballad.  It is ballad 2 in the translation by Edith Grossman.  The introduction to the book is by one of my favorite authors (I have read all her books published to date), Julia Alvarez.

 

 

Poem for Today


Inspired by a friend’s poem, I decided to take a look at some of my book stacks and write a poem from their titles–in honor of National Poetry Month.

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Now Is the Time to Open Your Hearts

the tongue’s blood does not run dry

The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love

A Simple Havana Melody

Alejandro Blue

The Spirit of Indian Women

Still Life With Bread Crumbs

Ring of Fire

Gardens in the Dunes

Daughters of Fortune

The Way to Paradise

The Bingo Palace

Uppity Women

How We Became Human

Close Range

Native Guard

Things Fall Apart

Gone Home

 

 

 

Lucy Pick’s Pilgrimage by Mary Sharratt


I will add this to my list of must reads.

Mary Sharratt's avatarFeminism and Religion

mary sharrattIn medieval Europe, religious devotion provided an alternate narrative for women’s lives in a male-dominated culture. Defiant women who stood up for themselves in the face of rape, incest, and murder were hailed as virgin martyrs. Religious vocations, such as becoming a nun or a beguine, provided a viable and esteemed alternative to forced marriage.

Even women who were married with children could escape their domestic entanglements and conjugal duties by taking an oath of celibacy as 15th century English mystic Margery Kempe did, leaving behind her husband and 14 children to go on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, Rome, and Jerusalem. Her Book of Margery Kempe, the tale of her travels, reads like a kind of late medieval Eat, Pray, Love and is the first autobiography written in the English language.

Though it might seem surprising to us today, women of the European Middle Ages possessed more…

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My 27-Book Haul from @AkeFestival #AkeFest15


This perfectly fits my goal to expand awareness of literature from non-western cultures. Reading remains one of the best ways to expand intercultural awareness especially if you cannot travel there.

Kinna's avatarKinna Reads

I didn’t do badly this first time at Aké; I come home with 27 books!

Books I Bought:

Ake Books I bought

  • The Birth of Illus by Jumoke Verissimo. This is Jumoke’s second collection of poetry. I’m a fan of her work.
  • Bound to Secrecy by Vamba Sherif. A detective novel set in Liberia. A new-to-me writer.
  • Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor. The first of Okorafor’s books that I own. It’s been a long time coming.
  • Minaret by Leila Aboulela. She has a new book, The Kindness of Enemies, out. I’m trying to catch up.
  • Blackass by A. Igoni Barrett. I”m behind on my reviews but I loved Igoni’s Love is Power or Something Like That.  This is his newest book.
  • A Killing in the Sun by Dilman Dila.  Speculative fiction.  I first came across his work in Jalada’s Afrofutures issue.

(In a special category) The Etisalat Prize Longlisted Books

Etisalat Prize-longlisted books

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Learning Something New Every Day


My goal recently has been to learn to use my iPAD as much as possible before heading to Ethiopia a week from today.  At this time next week, I will be on a 14 hours and 45 minutes flight to Dubai on Emirate Airlines.  That gives me about six days to keep learning.  With the help of my more computer literate friends, today I learned how to download photos from my iPAD to my iMAC and to connect my iPAD to iCloud.  In the midst of all this, guys are working on my house roof because when it rains just the right direction with the wind blowing, it leaks in particular places, depending on the direction of the wind and rain.  Here is a photo of them up high in the sky working.

 

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Yesterday, I decided to play with my iPAD camera so I can take some good photos as we wander around Dubai and Ethiopia and post them for all of you to see.  I am reading the 2012 Man Booker winner, Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel.  Henry VIII is not someone I would want to like me.  Once he was done with one wife, he had her executed or divorced.  The only exceptions are Jane Seymour, who died two weeks after giving birth, and his last wife, who outlived him.   I read while on my patio.  The evening view struck me as very photographable so I took several.

 

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The view from where I sat reading.

 

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The sunset from the edge of the patio–two views.

 

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Of course I knew about Henry VIII more or less, but wow, he and Cromwell….This book is sufficiently fascinating that I may download (the next thing I am going to learn to do) Wolf Hall, the book that you are supposed to read before you read Bring Up the Bodies, onto my iPAD so I can have something to read on that long, long flight.  People who have flown Emirates tell me there will be about 60 movies available, but I may have to see that.  Really?!

Yesterday, I also took my grandson to his soccer lesson at the WTAMU soccer field.  It has rained so much here that once when I thought I was just walking through grass, I ended up wading in the water.

 

 

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Rescue Horses and Book Signing–the Real Deal


Started the day with coffee, make-up, inside plant watering and then off to see the rescue horses at Dove Creek Ranch near Canyon, Texas.  I spent about two hours there talking to the owner, the ranch manager, and others.  The following horse is Jazzy.  They gave a demonstration in the round pen and this was her fourth ride ever.  For a young horse she was really, really calm.

 

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Their technique includes a lot of ground work and desensitization to motions and sounds.

 

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He put the saddle on and off repeatedly before riding her.  Then I went outside to a large corral to look at this flashy paint.  She is so beautiful but might not be adoptable.

 

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Although they once had her mother and siblings who have already been adopted, her behavior is very inconsistent.  They told me that one day she does fine, but the next day she may not remember anything from the day before, or act a bit crazy like running into things.  The more we discussed this behavior and possible causes, the more it made me think of a horse I once knew who had eaten loco weed.  Loco weed is toxic and affects a horse so that it suddenly behaves basically crazy and unpredictable.  Made me sad; she is so beautiful.  I saw another paint filly, but she belongs to the ranch manager.  Yes, she is nice, but not the looker the above one is.

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Then I ran home for a couple of hours, checked to see where Rosie had disappeared–she was off grazing, and headed to my book signing.  It went well.  I was especially thrilled to see a few people I had not seen in a long time.  One, Kira Satterfield, used to teach with me years ago.  She said it had been seven.  My grandson passed out fliers, Hastings made coffee for the guests, and my daughter helped.

 

 

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