Category Archives: literati

Bookworms of the World, Unite!

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read-books

“The more you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

― Dr. Seuss, “I Can Read With My Eyes Shut!”

Books, glorious books!  They are scattered around my house and I carry one in my bag, wherever I go.  When I’m not reading a book, I’m writing one.

Today, the day that both Miguel de Cervantes  and William Shakespeare died (two of several literary giants who died on April 23rd, 1616), is World Book and Copyright Day — created by UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) to pay worldwide tribute to books and to the authors who write them.

Introducing the world of books to someone — a child, or even an adult — is like opening a locked door, behind which lies the path to knowledge and empowerment.

“I have often reflected upon the new vistas that reading opened to me.  I knew right there in prison that reading had changed forever the course of my life.  As I see it today, the ability to read awoke in me some long dormant craving to be mentally alive.”    

— Malcolm X

Today, in this second decade of the new Millennium, our busy lives often preclude us from taking time out to read a book.  Make the time… please.  I cannot emphasize enough the importance of  reading.  It exercises the mind, stretches the imagination, opens up new worlds and is far more enthralling and entertaining than a television sitcom (in my opinion). 

If you can’t spare the time, carry a book in your bag – just in case. Rather than complain about the long wait time in the dentist’s office or at the airport, just open up a book and read.  Before you know it, the plane will be boarding or the dental hygienist will be beckoning you to come on in.

As for me, I concur with the late President Thomas Jefferson, who said (simply and succinctly):

“I cannot live without books.”

Image via worksmartlivesmart.com.

On Friendship

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Love this quote:

‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’

‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.’

—  E.B. White (Author of Charlotte’s Web)
(Photo via chakradio.com)

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

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In the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day and all things Irish, I wanted to share some sage words from Irish Playwright/critic/political activist, George Bernard Shaw (b. 1856 in Dublin, Ireland; d. 1950 in Ayot St. Lawrence, England).

Incidentally, George Bernard Shaw was a co-founder of the London School of Economics and a charter member of the Fabian Society.  Founded in 1884, the Fabian Society is a middle-class organization in England, whose mission is to promote socialism through peaceful, non-revolutionary means.

In 1925, Mr. Shaw was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.  Although he accepted the award, he rejected the monetary prize and requested that it instead be allocated towards the translation of the works (from Swedish to English) of fellow playwright August Strindberg.

If you want to have an online read of some of George Bernard Shaw’s works (novels, short stories or plays), visit:  Readbooksonline.net.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

My Books, My Friends

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“A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face.  It is one of the few havens remaining where a man’s mind can get both provocation and privacy.”

~ Edward P. Morgan

When I was a young girl, my mother would often call out to me and say “Your friends are at the front door.  They want to know when you’ll be going out to play.”   From my bedroom,  where I was curled up in my armchair like a content puppy — nose deep in a gripping novel, I would shout back (adjusting my glasses, as I did so): “Tell them I’ll be out as soon as I finish this chapter!”  Ten chapters later, my mother would peek around the door and say “Go out and get some fresh air. Your friends will begin to think that you don’t like them anymore.”  Reluctantly, I would put a bookmark in my book and then, very lovingly, place it down on the side table.  I’d walk past my mother, who smiled and shook her head (did she actually roll her eyes at me … really?).  

Many decades later, nothing much has changed.  With a few exceptions.  My mother died over seven years ago and I miss her so much that it hurts.  My childhood friends still live in Canada (while I now live in South Florida).  But, we still keep in touch.  Thank goodness for Facebook!

As fate would have it, my husband likes to spend some time in the company of his own mind, as I do.   So, when I get lost inside my head, reading a thought-provoking piece of fiction or non-fiction, I am rarely interrupted. 

Virtually every room in our house has bookshelves filled with books.  Every possible discipline — from literature, biographies, history, law and philosophy to engineering, architecture, music and art.  And everything in between.  

They are not there for show.  I say this because a few people (not readers themselves) have actually asked whether we truly read them!  We read them.  Some, we’ve read over and over again.

“The scholar only knows how dear these silent, yet eloquent, companions of pure thoughts and innocent hours become in the season of adversity.  When all that is worldly turns to dross around us, these only retain their steady value.”

~  Washington Irving

When I walk into a room full of books, I am filled with a sense of comfort and well-being.  I know every single book that is in the house and each is alphabetized and organized by discipline/category. 

Libraries are sacred sanctuaries filled with knowledge — private libraries, public libraries, university libraries …. all of them!  That wonderfully musty smell of old leather and paper, the silence (you can hear a pin drop), the rows and rows of books … it’s heaven.

“A good book is the purest essence of a human soul.”

~  Thomas Carlyle  (excerpt from his speech in support of the London Library, 1840)

Reading is not only good for the soul, it exercises the mind and helps reduces stress. 

Yes, my books are my friends. They are the gifts I treasure most. And, as a writer, they never cease to encourage, challenge and humble me.

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“Easter Day” by Oscar Wilde

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One of my favorite writers is the Dublin-born Oscar Wilde (1854-1900).  Poems (1881) — an anthology of poetry  — was his first published work.  Easter Day was poem number 20 in a collection of 62.  I thought I’d share this with you. 

Sláinte, 

h.f.t.g.

 

EASTER DAY

The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw, Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
‘Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest.
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.’

Legacy of Words

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I do not have children.  I will not be passing on my legacy through a next generation of my own creation.  But please do not misunderstand or make assumptions.  This was a conscious choice — made by two people who chose a path which focused exclusively on the pursuit of knowledge, advanced education, career, business ventures, literary pursuits, and travel.  If I could turn the clock back, I believe that I would have followed that same path.

So, when I read this passage written by an author I deeply admire —Alexandra Fuller — it resonated with me and, frankly, I couldn’t have articulated my thoughts any better.  In the Author’s Note of her novel, Scribbling the Cat: Travels with an African Soldier, Alexandra Fuller says it best:

“What is important is the story.

Because when we are all dust and teeth and kicked-up bits of skin — when we’re dancing with our own skeletons — our words might be all that’s left of us.”

Words. I hope that they will be my legacy.

h.f.t.g.

Image via arkarthick.com.

heatherfromthegrove book recommendation of the week: Julie Salamon’s ” Wendy and the Lost Boys – The Uncommon Life of Wendy Wasserstein”

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I grew up in an enlightened, feisty, and intellectually engaged generation when  women made the conscious decision to try to do it all – juggle intimacy, children and home life with career, profession, and advanced education.  Words like “Women’s Lib (Liberation)” and “feminism” or “feminists” (words that were often spat at us) were part of the vocabulary of a Baby Boom generation that was coming of age.  I’m sure I still have my 1976 “International Year of the Woman” pin (think Helen Reddy – singing “I am Woman….I am Invincible..”) and, although I did not burn my bra back in the day when that was very “de rigeur”  (I needed the wire support), I did and still do consider myself a feminist. For some reason, people did not react well to that word. My response: get over it.

So, when I picked up Julie Salamon’s new book, “Wendy and the Lost Boys – The Uncommon Life of Wendy Wasserstein” – I was reminded of this intelligent breed of women who dared to cross the boundaries of gender and did so with grace, compassion andhumor. Wendy Wasserstein was the first female playwright to win a Tony Award. She also won the Pulitzer Prize for the “Heidi Chronicles.”  Everyone in the Broadway circle knew this witty, intelligent and gregarious New York  playwright who wrote about driven women and their struggle to balance ambition and achievement with the need for romance and companionship. Drawing from her own life experiences, she crafted characters who – with eloquence and wit –  expressed the contrasting emotions of self-doubt, ferocity and yet also vulnerability.

Like many luminaries before her, Wendy Wasserstein’s light went out too soon. She died in 2006, of lymphoma – at the age of 55.

In Julie Salamon’s poignant portrait of the enigmatic Wendy Wasserstein,  she reveals some of the unexpected and extraordinary nuances of this wonderfully complex character.

This is a really, really good read.

The time is NOW!

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Time is relative.

When we’re young,  time seems to pass ever so slo-o-o-o-owly.  Remember back to when you were 12, impatiently waiting to turn 13, and then aching to be 16, 18, and – the most desirable age of all – 21.  It seemed to take forever.  If we only knew then, what we know now!

What we know now is that, as we age, time flies by so quickly – too quickly.  Or so it seems.

Personally, I used to believe that I peaked in my 30’s – and that it would inevitably be downhill from there.  What a deluded fool I was!  There is something to be said about the fabulous 50’s.  And the wisdom – which comes from half a century’s worth of  experience and hard lessons, well learned.

This is what I know for sure:

  1. Make Time your friend, not your enemy.  Embrace it. Savor it. Use it well.
  2. The passage of Time does not necessarily heal all wounds. But, it does help you deal  with your wounds.
  3. Time gives you the ability to see things from a more enlightened perspective.
  4. Time will only treat you well if you treat yourself well.
  5. Time teaches you patience  – with yourself and with others.
  6. Time makes you appreciate the past and not take the present for granted.
  7. Time is absolute.  There is always a beginning and an end.
  8. Time will not stand still while you deliberate about when to write your opus. Do it now.

So,  follow your dream, your bliss – whatever it may be.  Be confident (but not egotistical), be motivated (but not frantic or hyperactive), and  – most importantly – maintain balance in your life (things often go awry when  there is no equilibrium).

 

Image via Blog.sciseek.com.

heatherfromthegrove book pick for Sunday reading: “Dogs Never Lie About Love” by Jeffrey Masson

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In the world according to heatherfromthegrove, Sunday is that gloriously quiet day of reflection when we put everything aside and simply curl up in a favorite chair and read a good book. Usually, Bacchus (my grey-bearded black Lab) and Puss (my temperamental-yet-extremely-affectionate black Maine Coon cat) snuggle and snooze beside me, as I enjoy the words and thoughts of another kindred spirit  (likeminded writer).

Each Sunday my blog will spotlight a writer whose personal story and  “pièce de résistance”  has caught my fancy.

Let’s start with the controversial psychoanalyst and bestselling author, Jeffrey Masson. Residing with his family in the Lord of the Rings mecca, New Zealand, Jeff has published a series of books that are highly critical of Freud, psychiatry, and psychotherapy/analysis.

“Dedicated to the emotional lives of animals, vegetarianism, veganism (the ethics of food), animal rights, and human-animal interactions”,  he has written a spectrum of books on animals –analyzing their emotions and the lessons that we humans could (and should)  learn from these divine creatures (note by heatherfromthegrove: by “divine” – I mean “of God”  – because it is my personal belief that animals are spiritual beings).

Today, I am reading Jeff’s book, Dogs Never Lie About Love.  The book is both thoughtful and insightful. Do check this author out. I certainly will be reading more of his work!

Have a great Sunday!