on writing spaces

CS Lewis wrote about his brother's study in his two-room hut on the army base: 'The sitting room with stove, easy chair, pictures, and all his French books, is very snug. I notice that a study in a hut, or a cave, or the cabin of a ship can be snug in a way that is impossible for a mere room in a house, the snugness there being a victory, a sort of defiant comfortableness - whereas in a house of course, one demands comfort and is simply annoyed at its absense' (All my road before me, p. 342).

In Isobelle Carmody's Ashling, Fian is borrowing the captain's cabin on the Cutter, because of all the books about the sea the captain has. Elspeth goes to talk with him in that tiny cabin: 'He had to flatten himself against the wall to get the door to the tiny chamber open, but there was hardly enough room even when it was closed. He waved me to the only seat that would fit, and propped himself on the corner of the rickety wooden table piled high with books' (p. 440). Though truly tiny, the cabin sounds comfortable indeed - no doubt, the effect of all those books.

But not only cramped places make good studies, witness this room (found on tumblr):

So that's all for now!

admiration for existence

These couple of paragraphs are from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. The passage speaks for itself, really, and right to my heart!

'I have been thinking about existence lately. In fact, I have been so full of admiration for existence that I have hardly been able to enjoy it properly. As I was walking up to the church this morning, I passed that row of big oaks by the war memorial — if you remember them — and I thought of another morning, fall a year or two ago, when they were dropping their acorns thick as hail almost. There was all sorts of thrashing in the leaves and there were acorns hitting the pavement so hard they’d fly past my head. All this in the dark, of course. I remember a slice of moon, no more than that. It was a very clear night, or morning, very still, and then there was such energy in the things transpiring among those trees, like a storm, like travail. I stood there a little out of range, and I thought, It is all still new to me. I have lived my life on the prairie and a line of oak trees can still astonish me.

'I feel sometimes as if I were a child who opens its eyes on the world once and sees amazing things it will never know any names for and then has to close its eyes again. I know this is all mere apparition compared to what awaits us, but it is only lovelier for that. There is a human beauty in it. And I can’t believe that, when we have all been changed and put on incorruptibility, we will forget our fantastic condition of mortality and impermanence, the great bright dream of procreating and perishing that meant the whole world to us. In eternity this world will be Troy, I believe, and all that has passed here will be the epic of the universe, the ballad they sing in the streets. Because I don’t imagine any reality putting this one in the shade entirely, and I think piety forbids me to try.'

Some more excellent quotes can be found here and by pestering your favourite search engine.

If you haven't read this book yet, make sure you bury your nose in a copy of it as soon as possible!

on personal essays

or, 'the importance of idleness'

Whilst actually doing my uni work, I was referred by my tutor to a wonderful essay by Robert Dessaix. Entitled 'Letters to an unknown friend', it tickled my fancy, and my inner idler, by dwelling on the merits of the personal essay and discussing how idleness is an important trait for the personal essayist to have or to cultivate. You're most welcome to skip the rest of my post and simply read Dessaix's essay, it's very well written and very engaging!

According to Dessaix, 'the essay is vital to a civilised life' - he refers to the humble personal essay rather than its academic cousin. 'The more personal kind of essay, the sort of thing we write just because we want to tell someone something, something we must find the words for now, before the moment passes'. Whilst I agree with his ideas, I must protest at the placement of his prepositions! He barely gets away with putting that 'for' where he has put it; I would have written, 'Something for which we must find the words now', but still, it is the sense of immediacy that is important, and perhaps that is better served in Dessaix's sentence.

He then goes on to consider idleness, and how the tendency to idleness should not be confused with indolence. He's quite right, though I don't think cats are indolent, as he suggests they are, because after all they're never really asleep when they're napping. The idle person may be preoccupied all the time, and yet not be busy, and in being idle, one can make one's haphazard way through the world, and enjoy leisured pensiveness, stillness, and take pleasure in the ordinary. I rather like these notions, they make me want to write personal essays, and to first do the necessary amount of idling.

Dessaix also laments the lack of actual communication that goes on in the world, and the demands of consumer culture that we should work and spend money, that there isn't the time for good conversation in cafes, and for writing essays, to have wonderful discussions on all topics with friends. Dessaix is not the only person to write on the importance of idleness, because Tom Hodgkinson does as well, in his book How to be idle, but that book hasn't the deliciousness of actually being about the nature of personal essays and the merits of writing said essays. I suppose blog posts are sort of personal essays, or some of them may be, it would really depend on the content. I like the idea of the time spent observing and reflecting that is required for essay writing, perhaps I ought to take it up, add it to my list of thoughtful things to do...


The online archive for the Australian Book Review is here. I strongly recommend that you spend time idling over these!

The Waves

"By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream" - Virginia Woolf

Since I should be studying, this will not, I fear, be a well thought-out post, but I thought I should post something, because three months sans updating my blog is pathetic!

I have just started reading The Waves. It's not what I was expecting. Somehow Virginia Woolf's work is always different from one book to the next - properly growing as a writer, which is wonderful to see. (And encouraging for one's own reading, to notice it!) The Waves is set out almost like a play. In italics there will be description of the sea, a house, other surrounds. Then in regular type are the monologues of the cast, the six people the story follows through their lives. I love the dreamer Rhoda the most. Bernard started out very likeable, with his constant storytelling, but by the time he gets to university (which is where I'm upto now), he's so conceited! Constantly thinking about what his biographer will write about him, and so shaping his behaviour and writing by what other people think of him! Atrocious behaviour!

But then, what makes us think that people ever do things without feelings of self-consciousness? Are we not always thinking about how others see us? That's part of living in a community, isn't it? Part of being social creatures.

Still, I most like Virginia Woolf's advice that we write exactly what we like, and not use our craft to try and impress other people. What did she write exactly, Google? "So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say. " Isn't it funny how the quote and what you've thought about the quote get muddled together in your mind...?

"No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself." -VW