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Archive C-D

«« Previous page · Arthur Hugh Clough: That out of sight is out of mind · William Cartwright: No Platonic Love · Philippe Claudel: L’Archipel du Chien · Genomineerd voor E. du Perronprijs 2017: Alex Boogers, Margot Vanderstraeten & Tommy Wieringa · Smoke by John Berger (Author) and‎ Selcuk Demirel (Illustrator) · Sophie Collins: Who Is Mary Sue? · G. K. Chesterton: The Strange Music · Thomas Campion: From The Fourth Booke of Ayres · Lydia Maria Child: The New England Boy’s Song About Thanksgiving Day · Robert Desnos: Faire part · John Clare: Written in Northampton County Asylum · The Responsibility of Intellectuals by Noam Chomsky

»» there is more...

Arthur Hugh Clough: That out of sight is out of mind

  

That out of sight is
out of mind

That out of sight is out of mind
Is true of most we leave behind;
It is not, sure, nor can be true,
My own and dearest love, of you.

They were my friends, ’twas sad to part;
Almost a tear began to start;
But yet as things run on they find
That out of sight is out of mind.

For men that will not idlers be
Must lend their hearts to things they see;
And friends who leave them far behind,
Being out of sight are out of mind.

I do not blame; I think that when
The cold and silent see again,
Kind hearts will yet as erst be kind,
‘Twas out of sight was out of mind.

I knew it, when we parted, well,
I knew it, but was loth to tell;
I knew before, what now I find,
That out of sight was out of mind.

That friends, however friends they were,
Still deal with things as things occur,
And that, excepting for the blind,
What’s out of sight is out of mind.

But love is, as they tell us, blind;
So out of sight and out of mind
Need not, nor will, I think, be true,
My own and dearest love, of you.

Arthur Hugh Clough
(1819-1861)
That out of sight is out of mind

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More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, CLASSIC POETRY


William Cartwright: No Platonic Love

 

No Platonic Love

Tell me no more of minds embracing minds,
And hearts exchang’d for hearts;
That spirits spirits meet, as winds do winds,
And mix their subt’lest parts;
That two unbodied essences may kiss,
And then like Angels, twist and feel one Bliss.

I was that silly thing that once was wrought
To practise this thin love;
I climb’d from sex to soul, from soul to thought;
But thinking there to move,
Headlong I rolled from thought to soul, and then
From soul I lighted at the sex again.

As some strict down-looked men pretend to fast,
Who yet in closets eat;
So lovers who profess they spririts taste,
Feed yet on grosser meat;
I know they boast they souls to souls convey,
Howe’r they meet, the body is the way.

Come, I will undeceive thee, they that tread
Those vain aerial ways
Are like young heirs and alchemists misled
To waste their wealth and days,
For searching thus to be for ever rich,
They only find a med’cine for the itch.

William Cartwright
(1611-1643)
No Platonic Love

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More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, CLASSIC POETRY


Philippe Claudel: L’Archipel du Chien

Le dimanche qui suivit, différents signes annoncèrent que quelque chose allait se produire.

Ce fut déjà et cela dès l’aube une chaleur oppressante, sans brise aucune. L’air semblait s’être solidifié autour de l’île, dans une transparence compacte et gélatineuse qui déformait ça et là l’horizon quand il ne l’effaçait pas : l’île flottait au milieu de nulle part. Le Brau luisait de reflets de meringue.

Les laves noires à nu en haut des vignes et des vergers frémissaient comme si soudain elles redevenaient liquides. Les maisons très vite se trouvèrent gorgées d’une haleine éreintante qui épuisa les corps comme les esprits.

On ne pouvait y jouir d’aucune fraîcheur.

Puis il y eut une odeur, presque imperceptible au début, à propos de laquelle on aurait pu se dire qu’on l’avait rêvée, ou qu’elle émanait des êtres, de leur peau, de leur bouche, de leurs vêtements ou de leurs intérieurs. Mais d’heure en heure l’odeur s’affirma. Elle s’installa d’une façon discrète, pour tout dire clandestine. »

Écrivain traduit dans le monde entier, Philippe Claudel est aussi cinéaste et dramaturge. Il a notamment publié aux éditions Stock Les Âmes grises, La Petite Fille de Monsieur Linh, Le Rapport de Brodeck et L’Arbre du pays Toraja. Membre de l’académie Goncourt, il réside en Lorraine où il est né en 1962.

Philippe Claudel
L’Archipel du Chien
Auteur Philippe Claudel
Editeur Stock
Date de parution 14/03/2018
Collection Bleue
Format 13cm x 21cm
EAN 978-2234085954
ISBN 2234085950
Nombre de pages 288
Format 14 x 22
Prix: 19.50€

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More in: Archive C-D, Art & Literature News, AUDIO, CINEMA, RADIO & TV


Genomineerd voor E. du Perronprijs 2017: Alex Boogers, Margot Vanderstraeten & Tommy Wieringa

De schrijvers Alex Boogers, Margot Vanderstraeten en Tommy Wieringa zijn genomineerd voor de E. du Perronprijs 2017De jury van de E. du Perronprijs  heeft de volgende drie boeken genomineerd, waarbij het schrijverschap van Du Perron als leidraad en inspiratie heeft gegolden. De uitreiking vindt plaats op woensdagavond 18 april bij bkkc brabants kenniscentrum voor kunst en cultuur in Tilburg. Marja Pruis, schrijver en redacteur van de Groene Amsterdammer, houdt dan de E. du Perronlezing over arrogantie.

Onder een hemel van sproeten – Alex Boogers
Sproeten of sterren? Geleidelijk wordt de lezer dit verhaal ingetrokken en worden fascinerende personages voorgesteld: de zwarte onaangepaste Harvey, het getormenteerde maar getalenteerde buurmeisje Amy, de oude man Jacob met zijn hond Muis, de stratenmaker Angelo die Harvey van literaire boeken voorziet. Stuk voor stuk eenzame personages die anders zijn dan de mensen om hen heen, en die door Boogers op empathische wijze gepresenteerd worden. Dit is een roman over ongewone vriendschappen, ontwrichting en vergelding.

Mazzel tov. Mijn leven als werkstudente bij een orthodox-joodse familie – Margot Vanderstraeten
Dit boek biedt een fascinerend persoonlijk verslag van het leven als huiswerkbegeleider bij een orthodox-joodse familie in Antwerpen en geeft een unieke longitudinale blik op een besloten gemeenschap. Verschillen worden intelligent en integer besproken, en de lezer is getuige van de wederzijdse verwondering over anders-zijn. De respectvolle subjectieve toon wordt nooit onderbroken. Een empathisch maar ook informatief boek dat toont hoe je van elkaar kunt leren, zonder de scherpe randjes van intermenselijke relaties af te schaven.

De heilige Rita – Tommy Wieringa
Het bekende, provincialistische, kleine van een dorpsgemeenschap wordt op een natuurlijke manier geconfronteerd met het exotische, onbekende, en vreemde. Het fictieve maar onmiskenbaar Twentse Mariënveen is een dorp waar de horeca is overgenomen door Chinezen. Slavische talen klinken in het dorpscafé. Achterhaalde kruidenierswaren (waaronder pakjes Saroma) liggen te verstoffen en verkleuren in de winkel van Pietje Piep. En moederlijke Rita in Club Pancha biedt betaalde troost. Wieringa’s roman evoceert hoe Nederland veranderde, juist in een krimpregio aan de grens met Duitsland.

E. du Perronprijs
De E. du Perronprijs is een initiatief van de gemeente Tilburg, de School of Humanities and Digital Sciences van Tilburg University en brabants kenniscentrum voor kunst en cultuur (bkkc). De prijs is bedoeld voor personen of instellingen die, net als Du Perron in zijn tijd, grenzen signaleren en doorbreken die wederzijds begrip tussen verschillende bevolkingsgroepen in de weg staan. De prijs bestaat uit een geldbedrag van €2500 euro en een textiel object, ontworpen door studio ‘by aaaa’ (Moyra Besjes en Natasja Lauwers) en vervaardigd bij het TextielMuseum in Tilburg. Vorig jaar won Stefan Hertmans de prijs voor zijn roman De Bekeerlinge. Andere laureaten waren onder meer Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer (2015), Mohammed Benzakour (2013), Koen Peeters (2012), Ramsey Nasr (2011) en Alice Boot & Rob Woortman (2010).

Marja Pruis houdt de achtste E. du Perronlezing.

De E. du Perronprijs 2017 wordt op woensdagavond 18 april 2018 uitgereikt tijdens de avond dat ook de E. du Perronlezing wordt gehouden bij het brabants kenniscentrum voor kunst en cultuur (bkkc) aan de Spoorlaan 21 i-k. Voor tijden en programma zie www.bkkc.nl/eduperron. Meer informatie over de prijs vindt u op: www.tilburguniversity.edu/duperronprijs.

Voor het bijwonen van de uitreiking kunnen belangstellenden en genodigden zich aanmelden via www.bkkc.nl/eduperron.

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More in: - Book Lovers, Archive A-B, Archive C-D, Archive U-V, Archive W-X, Awards & Prizes, Eddy du Perron, Literary Events


Smoke by John Berger (Author) and‎ Selcuk Demirel (Illustrator)

“Once upon a time, men, women and (secretly) children smoked.”

Following the success of Cataract, John Berger, one of the great soothsayers of seeing, joins forces again with Turkish illustrator Selcuk Demirel. This charming pictorial essay reflects on the cultural implications of smoking. A subtle and beautifully illustrated prose poem, Smoke lingers in the mind.

This charming illustrated work reflects on the cultural implications of smoking, and suggests, through a series of brilliantly inventive illustrations, that society’s attitude to smoke is both paradoxical and intolerant. It portrays a world in which smokers, banished from public places, must encounter one another as outlaws. Meanwhile, car exhausts and factory chimneys continue to pollute the atmosphere. Smoke is a beautifully illustrated prose poem that lingers in the mind.

“A cigarette is a breathing space. It makes a parenthesis. The time of a cigarette is a parenthesis, and if it is shared you are both in that parenthesis. It’s like a proscenium arch for a dialogue.” – John Berger (in interview)

In contemporary English letters John Berger seems to me peerless. Not since D. H. Lawrence has there been a writer who offers such attentiveness to the sensual world with responsiveness to the imperatives of conscience.
—Susan Sontag

In his ceaselessly inventive work, Selçuk often uses parts of the body in ways that are characteristically Turkish…as if the comedy of the human condition were there in the human body, in the melancholy of anatomy.
—John Berger, on Selçuk Demirel

Smoke
by John Berger (Author)
and‎ Selcuk Demirel (Illustrator)
Hardcover, $18.95
Available in Hardcover on May 8, 2018
ISBN10 1910749478
ISBN13 9781910749470
From Notting Hill Editions
70 pages

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More in: - Book News, Archive A-B, Archive A-B, Archive C-D, Art & Literature News, Illustrators, Illustration, John Berger, Susan Sontag


Sophie Collins: Who Is Mary Sue?

In the language of fan fiction, a ‘Mary Sue’ is an idealised and implausibly flawless character: a female archetype that can infuriate audiences for its perceived narcissism.

Such is the setting for this brilliant and important debut by Sophie Collins. In a series of verse and prose collages, Who Is Mary Sue? exposes the presumptive politics behind writing and readership: the idea that men invent while women reflect; that a man writes of the world outside while a woman will turn to the interior.

Part poetry and part reportage, at once playful and sincere, these fictive-factive miniatures deploy original writing and extant quotation in a mode of pure invention. In so doing, they lift up and lay down a revealing sequence of masks and mirrors that disturb the reflection of authority.A work of captivation and correction, this is a book that will resonate with anyone concerned with identity, shame, gender, trauma, composition and culture: everyone, in other words, who wishes to live openly and think fearlessly in the modern world.

Who Is Mary Sue? is a work for our times and a question for our age: it is a handbook for all those willing to reimagine prescriptive notions of identity and selfhood.

Sophie Collins is cofounder of tender, an online quarterly promoting work by female-identified writers and artists. She is carrying out research on poetry and translation at Queen’s University Belfast. Collins grew up in Bergen, North Holland, and now lives in Edinburgh. She is co-editor of tender, an online arts quarterly, and editor of Currently & Emotion (Test Centre, 2016), an anthology of contemporary poetry translations. small white monkeys, a text on self-expression, self-help and shame, was published by Book Works in 2017 as part of a commissioned residency at Glasgow Women’s Library.

Sophie Collins
Who Is Mary Sue?
8 February 2018
Published by Faber & Faber
Paperback
£10.99
112 pages
ISBN: 9780571346615
Poetry and prose

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More in: - Book News, Archive C-D, Archive C-D, Art & Literature News, EDITOR'S CHOICE, LITERARY MAGAZINES


G. K. Chesterton: The Strange Music

 

The Strange Music

Other loves may sink and settle, other loves may loose and slack,
But I wander like a minstrel with a harp upon his back,
Though the harp be on my bosom, though I finger and I fret,
Still, my hope is all before me : for I cannot play it yet.

In your strings is hid a music that no hand hath e’er let fall,
In your soul is sealed a pleasure that you have not known at all;
Pleasure subtle as your spirit, strange and slender as your frame,
Fiercer than the pain that folds you, softer than your sorrow’s name.

Not as mine, my soul’s annointed, not as mine the rude and light
Easy mirth of many faces, swaggering pride of song and fight;
Something stranger, something sweeter, something waiting you afar,
Secret as your stricken senses, magic as your sorrows are.

But on this, God’s harp supernal, stretched but to be stricken once,
Hoary time is a beginner, Life a bungler, Death a dunce.
But I will not fear to match them—no, by God, I will not fear,
I will learn you, I will play you and the stars stand still to hear.

G. K. Chesterton
(1874-1936)
The Strange Music

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More in: # Music Archive, Archive C-D, Archive C-D, Chesterton, Gilbert Keith


Thomas Campion: From The Fourth Booke of Ayres

  

From The Fourth Booke of Ayres  -VII-

There is a Garden in her face,
Where Roses and white Lillies grow;
A heav’nly paradice is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits doe flow.
There Cherries grow, which none may buy
Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

Those Cherries fayrely doe enclose
Of Orient Pearle a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter showes,
They look like Rose-buds fill’d with snow.
Yet them nor Peere nor Prince can buy,
Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

Her Eyes like Angels watch them still;
Her Browes like bended bowes doe stand,
Threatning with piercing frownes to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred Cherries to come nigh,
Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

Thomas Campion
(1567-1620)
From The Fourth Booke of Ayres
VII

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More in: # Music Archive, Archive C-D, Archive C-D, CLASSIC POETRY


Lydia Maria Child: The New England Boy’s Song About Thanksgiving Day

  

The New England Boy’s Song
About Thanksgiving Day

Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather’s house we go;
The horse knows the way,
To carry the sleigh,
Through the white and drifted snow .

Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather’s house away !
We would not stop
For doll or top,
For ‘t is Thaksgiving day .

Over the river, and through the wood,
Oh, how the wind does blow !
It stings the toes,
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go .

Over the river, and through the wood,
With a clear blue winter sky,
The dogs do bark,
And children hark,
As we go jingling by .

Over the river, and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play—
Hear the bells ring
Ting a ling ding,
Hurra for Thanksgiving day !

Over the river, and through the wood—
No matter for winds that blow;
Or if we get
The sleigh upset,
Into a bank of snow .

Over the river, and through the wood,
To see little John and Ann;
We will kiss them all,
And play snow-ball
And stay as long as we can .

Over the river, and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple grey !
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound,
For ‘t is Thanksgiving day !

Over the river, and through the wood,
And straight through the barn-yard gate;
We seem to go
Extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait .

Over the river, and through the wood—
Old Jowler hears our bells;
He shakes his pow,
With a loud bow wow,
And thus the news he tells .

Over the river, and through the wood—
When grandmother sees us come,
She will say, Oh dear,
The children are here,
Bring a pie for every one .

Over the river, and through the wood—
Now grandmother’s cap I spy !
Hurra for the fun !
Is the pudding done ?
Hurra for the pumpkin pie !

Lydia Maria Child
(1802-1880)
The New England Boy’s Song About Thanksgiving Day

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More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, CLASSIC POETRY


Robert Desnos: Faire part

 

Faire part

Sur le pont du navire la couturière fait le point
couturière taille-moi un grand paon de mercure
je fais ce soir ma dernière communion
La dernière hirondelle fait l’automne
D’entre les becs de gaz blêmes
Se lève une figure sans signification.
Statues de verre flacon simulacre de l’amour
Vient la fameuse dame
Facteur de soustraction
avec une lettre pour moi
Mon cher Desnos Mon cher Desnos
Je vous donne rendez-vous
dans quelques jours
On vous préviendra
Vous mettrez votre habit d’outre monde
Et tout le monde sera bien content.

Robert Desnos
(1900 – 1945)
Faire part

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More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, Desnos, Robert, Holocaust, REPRESSION OF WRITERS, JOURNALISTS & ARTISTS, SURREALISM


John Clare: Written in Northampton County Asylum

 

 Written in Northampton County Asylum

I am! yet what I am who cares, or knows?
My friends forsake me like a memory lost.
I am the self-consumer of my woes;
They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.
And yet I am–I live–though I am toss’d

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dream,
Where there is neither sense of life, nor joys,
But the huge shipwreck of my own esteem
And all that ‘s dear. Even those I loved the best
Are strange–nay, they are stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod–
For scenes where woman never smiled or wept–
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie,–
The grass below; above, the vaulted sky.

John Clare
(1793-1864)
Written in Northampton County Asylum

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More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, Clare, John, Psychiatric hospitals


The Responsibility of Intellectuals by Noam Chomsky

Fifty years after it first appeared, one of Noam Chomsky’s greatest essays will be published for the first time as a timely stand-alone book, with a new preface by the author.

As a nineteen-year-old undergraduate in 1947, Noam Chomsky was deeply affected by articles about the responsibility of intellectuals written by Dwight Macdonald, an editor of Partisan Review and then of Politics. Twenty years later, as the Vietnam War was escalating, Chomsky turned to the question himself, noting that “intellectuals are in a position to expose the lies of governments” and to analyze their “often hidden intentions.”

Originally published in the New York Review of Books, Chomsky’s essay eviscerated the “hypocritical moralism of the past” (such as when Woodrow Wilson set out to teach Latin Americans “the art of good government”) and exposed the shameful policies in Vietnam and the role of intellectuals in justifying it.

Also included in this volume is the brilliant The Responsibility of Intellectuals Redux, written on the tenth anniversary of 9/11, which makes the case for using privilege to challenge the state. As relevant in 2017 as it was in 1967, The Responsibility of Intellectuals reminds us that “privilege yields opportunity and opportunity confers responsibilities.”

All of us have choices, even in desperate times.

Title The Responsibility of Intellectuals
Author Noam Chomsky
Publisher New Press, The
Format Hardcover
Nb of pages 112 p.
ISBN-10 162097343X
ISBN-13 9781620973431
Hardcover – $16.95
Publication Date 07 November 2017

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More in: - Book News, - Book Stories, Archive C-D, Art & Literature News, LITERARY MAGAZINES, MONTAIGNE, Noam Chomsky, PRESS & PUBLISHING


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