Nominated again!

Isn't that just lovely? Kayakas nominated M-mv for its second Thinking Blogger Award.

Per the award program instructions, I selected my five nominees first go-'round. You'll find the entry here. Many thanks, Kayakas.

The Saturday Review of Books
Semicolon hosts "The Saturday Review of Books." Consider participating this week.

Fine Art Friday

Randall Deihl (1946-)
"Sweets"

In the introduction to Can You Find It?, which appears in my recent "On the nightstand" entry, Judith Cressy maintains, "You will soon discover that the closer you look at paintings, the more there is to see." In Deihl's kitschy oil painting of a movie theater concession stand, readers are asked to find a flight of stairs, three arrows, and a woman in blue, among other things.

Read. Think. Learn.

Look.

Do you see?

Keeping with a movie theme -- since you know how much I love the synthesis and synchronicity at work in my reading-thinking-learning days -- here's a round-up of some films that have played at our house recently:

:: Happy Feet
Eh. I wanted to loathe it, but it was cute in a "You've gotta be kiddin'!" sort of way. Tell me, though: The folks who made March of the Penguins -- did they bring a copyright infringement suit or something against Warner? From the voice-over to the dropped egg, I kept thinking, "Someone owes a HUGE debt to March of the Penguins."

:: Don't Look Now
Sheila recommended this one. Terrific, for all of the reasons both she and Ebert cite.

:: Jesus Camp
This is a scary movie someone mistakenly labeled "Documentary." Not for the faint-hearted.

Levi's Mom: Did you get to the part yet where they say that science hasn't proven anything?

Gave me chills, you know? Made me look over my shoulder, turn on all of the lights, and touch my books, if you know what I mean. Scary stuff.

:: Stranger than Fiction
I always enjoy the films Margaret recommends, so I'm a little bummed that she didn't enjoy this much. It's our selection for tonight. I'll let you know how it goes.

Added later: Oh, gosh, but I liked this movie. A lot. I liked Emma Thompson's tortured writer. I liked the meta-narrative. I adored Will Ferrell's performance. And, yes, Dustin Hoffman's. And, always and especially, Maggie Gyllenhaal's. Recommended without reservation.

When other homeschoolers "fail"

Elsewhere, the idea of inept or failing homeschoolers is being discussed, particularly the comparison between traditionally schooled and homeschooled students, standards for homeschoolers, and the failure of some homeschooling families to deliver a certain type of education.

My response, slightly edited, follows.

Illinois law mentions providing an education in English comparable to that of same-aged peers in public schools. That's about it. Oh, and it lists the number of days required, too, I think.

There's a word or two, probably not terribly kind, for people like me, but I'll risk hearing the criticism again. Here goes: One of the reasons I homeschool is that I'm not terribly interested in what everyone else is doing -- how woefully underprepared Suzy Homeschool's kids are, how inarticulate Peggy Publicschool's kids are, etc.

Really. Not. Interested.

I'm concerned about the progress of three kids, for now. Hey, look at that. They all live here.

I've mentioned over the last seven years that I am most decidedly not a homeschooling evangelist -- I do not think home education is the answer to all that ails our public school classrooms. Part of the reason that I won't evangelize or play the role of plump homeschooling mom-cheerleader is that I'm not on-board with the homeschool "party line" -- that is, that simply because the kids are homeschooled, they are better prepared than their traditionally schooled peers.

What. Bosh.

Why, there are huge gaps in the consistency, rigor, and quality of education being provided to the children of the posters on the sole homeschooling message board I visit, let alone across the ever-expanding ranks of homeschoolers in this country. I can only speak to the studies of, oh, yeah, three students, and I can do so using both conventional standards (e.g., test scores and awards) and less conventional (e.g., reading lists, perhaps, or their conduct).

That's all I'm going to do, then -- speak to their experience, no one else's.

The fact that we homeschool is among the very last things that we share with people. As a matter of fact, if I can avoid revealing it, let alone discussing it, I will. As I've said here and elsewhere many, many times before, I'm not interested in educating the public about homeschooling, I'm bored by idle and small chatter, and I loathe the pigeonhole into which my family is filed once folks learn we homeschool. Sorry. None of the stereotypes apply here, and I'd rather not have my children labor under the smallmindedness of others, so I don't advertise how they are educated.

I let their clear speech, many conventional achievements (work, academic awards and prizes, sports-oriented successes, etc.), and their good natures speak to their intelligence and scholastic preparation. That should be more than enough. If my oldest is any indication, it is. It really is.

And I just don't worry about what everyone else is doing.

Homeschooled students are already bound by the standards of state law. I do not believe homeschools should be suject to regulation beyond that which a private school would be subjected. Period. No matter how the students are prepared.

The discussion began with a number of questions, among them, How do I feel when I meet homeschoolers whose kids are obviously not on a par with public schooled students of the same age/grade? Um, the same way I feel when I meet the parents of public or private schooled or, for that matter, homeschooled students whose kids are not as articulate, interested, adjusted, etc. as my own -- "Wow. Thank goodness I don't have to spend much time with these people." What else am I supposed to think? Really? I'm not a people person even in the best of circumstances. (That appears to be a nature thing, by the way. The children are the kindest, most gracious humans I have ever met.) In the worst (e.g., in the company of parents whose children make me cringe with more than curmudgeonly bad humor), I just seek the nearest exit.

Related aside: When I started homeschooling, what, a decade ago now, one of my sentences was that I had no intention of sacrificing my children on the altar of public education while I labored (volunteered, fund-raised, etc.) for the neighborhood schools like a Missy Goodcitizen. Well, ten years later, I would add that I have no intention of sacrificing them on the altar of homeschooling stereotypes and myths, either.

You do your thing; I'll do mine. Let's see how that all works out, then, eh?
_____________________


For more of M-mv's thoughts on education and parenting, see the posts collected here.

I'm back... for a couple of minutes, anyway.

It's all done. My work is complete... and now the cycle begins again.

Heh, heh, heh.

I'm taking a break tonight, though. A little "Lost," a little David Copperfield, maybe even a little piano practice -- work set me back a week or two in my music studies.

Hey, look what's on its way!

It seems just about perfect for a night here and a week in... the Big Apple! Oh, and all of those other things I like to photograph. So thank you again. As I've said before, affiliate programs have become ubiquitous; everyone and her mother now feature links and subtle (or not so) requests that visitors buy using said links. That is the nature of business, of course. My only recourse is to thank you, again and again, for your business and your loyalty.

He's back! Garry's back on the air!

Meier to join WCKG on Monday. (Thank you for the heads-up, dear Donna.)

I'm still working, pressing toward this evening's deadline. Wish me luck!

Defending the Damned

It's not a job for those seeking approval. It's a job for those willing to rattle cages, make enemies and raise hell. By raising hell, these lawyers honor the law.

I first mentioned Defending the Damned: Inside Chicago's Cook County Public Defender's Offices (Kevin Davis) in the January "On the nightstand" entry.

Scheduled for release early next month, Davis's book arrived on my doorstep as a much anticipated advance copy early this winter. Remember: I am a (recovering) "Law & Order" addict and a former Chicagoan (at least, Chicago became my adopted home-city). This book appeals to me for those reasons, then, but it also managed to grab me by the reading collar.

Here's what others are saying about Defending the Damned: From today's Sun-Times, "Vicious killers."

Three bird stories

One from Mr. M-mv:

Murder most fowl?

And two from Aunt M-mv:

Tiny rare owl spotted in Peru reserve.

Nuthatches seem to understand chickadee.

Fine Art Friday

This image needs no introduction, and I've posted about Munch before. While I have not been reduced to screaming, I am pretty thinly stretched -- five thousand words before Tuesday night -- so I'll see you on the other side, okay?

Oh, and did you know... the eruption of the Indonesian island of Krakatoa caused the "burning skies" captured in Munch's painting? Read more here.

And here.

Tumbling Toms

Isn't that just the loveliest name for a plant? Tumbling Toms. I could say it all day. Tumbling Toms. Tumbling Toms are medium-size tomatoes bred for hanging baskets. Now that's gardening even I can handle! I read about them in the 4/1/07 Woman's Day, p. 20. To order, call 800-362-3817.

We need to talk about...

Lionel Shriver.

But first, I need to tell you that I did not read about The Post-Birthday World in the March 9 NYT or the March 19 NYT.

Nope, I read about it a couple of days earlier, in the March 9 Entertainment Weekly, which arrived in my mailbox a few days before its publication date.

So I've had The Post-Birthday World on hold at the library for more than a week.

Yep.

And it became available last night.

So, yes, we're moving through math, Latin, and music today with an efficiency that has surprised even me, the Supreme Ruler of All Things Organized and Efficient.

Heh, heh, heh.

I first wrote about Shriver's work in this recent entry. She is, as Jennifer Reese -- writing in, yes, in Entertainment Weekly -- says, "a brilliant and versatile writer." Read an excerpt of Shriver's recent work here.

Oh, Garry!

WCKG opening door for Meier's comeback.

And here's a link to former partner Steve Dahl's take on the subject. (Thanks, dear Donna.)

From the archives:The writer's bookshelf, Part I

This entry first appeared (in a slightly different form) on 12.02.2004.

"Part I" was an afterthought, or maybe, more precisely, it was an attempt to cover my capacious, erm, behind since, in a first pass, I can't hope to identify all of the books that have shaped, refined, or even redefined my writing life. By tacking "Part I" onto to the title of the entry, then, I'm acknowledging the list's incompleteness.

Of course, all that I have read has, in one way or another, altered the landscape of my imagination.

And this is as it should be.

But here I only hope to satisfy the curiosity of the readers who have written to ask about the books on which I rely as a writer.

It's a relatively short list.

The essential titles
The Chicago Manual of Style
Writer's Market
The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary
The New York Public Library Desk Reference
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations

Two decades of bylines ago, I needed (or believed I needed) many other titles within reach. But the internet and, yes, experience mean fewer "essentials" on the writer's desk.

A related aside
Two decades of bylines ago, I also believed that writing required a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils, an orderly stack of yellow legal pads, and my favorite chair. Oh, the pretensions and preoccupations of the beginning writer... to say nothing of the writer who fancies the idea of being a writer more than the work of being a writer.

Many a beginning writer overcomes the pretensions and preoccupations (with the "right" writing utensil, the "ideal" paper, the "perfect" chair), but the latter rarely does, and consequently, he generally doesn't accumulate (m)any bylines. You can quickly identify this writer at a party, writer's group, or online forum: He talks about what he's going to write. A lot. But don't bother following up when you next meet. He didn't start the project, or, if he did, he has already abandoned it for his next big idea.

A bit of unsolicited advice
If you want to write, don't busy yourself with sharpening pencils and don't spend too much time talking about what you're going to write.

Just write.

Reading about writing
Writing is not terribly difficult, but writing well is.

From Stephen King's gem On Writing:

Writers form themselves into the pyramid we see in all areas of human talent and human creativity. At the bottom are the bad ones. Above them is a group which is slightly smaller but still large and welcoming; these are the competent writers. They may also be found on the staff of your local newspaper, on the racks at your local bookstore, and at poetry readings on Open Mike Night... The next level is much smaller. These are the really good writers. Above them — above almost all of us — are the Shakespeares, the Faulkners, the Yeatses, Shaws, and Eudora Weltys. They are geniuses, divine accidents, gifted in a way which is beyond our ability to understand... [M]ost geniuses aren't able to understand themselves, and many of them lead miserable lives, realizing (at least on some level) that they are nothing but fortunate freaks....

"Really good" (like King and, say, for example, Joyce Carol Oates and John Updike) and "fortunate freak" are not in my future, so I get by with "competent" (if I do say so myself). Heh, heh, heh. Competent's fine. Hey, it pays the bills.

Moreover, "competent" enables me to write to learn.

But more about that worthy topic some other time.

For now, let me just get a few more titles out there. I'll call them... hmmmm... "Not essential but worth the time"? Nah. Let's go with

Books about writing and the writing life
Presented in no particular order.

On Writing (Stephen King)
The Orwell Reader ("Politics and the English Language")
Stet: An Editor's Life (Diana Athill)
Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (Anne Lamott)
Walking on Alligators: A Book of Meditations for Writers (Susan Shaughnessy)
Words Fail Me: What Everyone Who Writes Should Know about Writing (Patricia T. O'Connor, who also wrote the wonderful Woe Is I)
Writing and the Writer (Frank Smith)
For Writers Only (Sophy Burnham)
Line by Line: How to Improve Your Own Writing (Claire Kehrwald Cook)
A Room of One's Own (Virginia Woolf)
Becoming a Writer (Dorothea Brande)
The Faith of a Writer: Life, Craft, Art (Joyce Carol Oates, whose (Woman) Writer is also worth having)
The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers (Christopher Vogel)
On Writing Well (William Zinsser)
The Elements of Style (Strunk and White)
Style: Ten Lessons in Clarity and Grace (Joseph M. Williams)

More on this subject when time and inclination permit. Until then, read, think, learn.

Write.

And eat some homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Reading aloud

This was a favorite of Master's years ago. I held onto it for his sisters -- who loved it.

It's not a particularly complicated or vocabulary-rich novel, but how wonderful to spend a couple of hours with people interested in... dictionaries. A smart student. His smart teacher. His bright, engaged mother. An adventure in words and their meanings. What more could one ask from an afternoon of reading aloud?

Frindle (Andrew Clement).
____________________

Jim Trelease, writing in The Read-Aloud Handbook:

None of this has anything to do with how much a parent loves a child. They all love their children and want the best for them, but some parents have a better idea of what needs to be said and done to reach that best.

Ayup.

But what do you do all day?

Read. Think. Learn.

Play.

Aside: Did you know that Chris Van Allsburg's The Mysteries of Harris Burdick provides excellent story prompts? Open to any page. Gaze at one of the wonderful images. Wonder at Van Allsburg's single cryptic sentence. And write. (You'll find an anecdote about Family M-mv's encounter with the author/illustrator here.)

Scientists already knew that coffee beans were rich in dietary fiber—and now Fulgencio Saura-Calixto and Elena Díaz-Rubio, food scientists at the National Research Council in Madrid, have confirmed for the first time that brewed coffee also contains it.

Read the complete Scientific American article here.

Wordsmithery

Over the weekend, I read a passage in which a writer described himself as a wordsmith. Now that's chutzpah, huh?

A wordsmith is, yes, one who works with words, but the word is most commonly employed to praise, celebrate, or compliment a skillful writer. For example, I've used it to describe Oscar Wilde and Bill Bryson.

But apply it to myself? Oh, yeah. Sure. I also regularly enter Jewel and annnouce, "I am be-YOO-ti-ful!"
________________________

Last weekend, the Sunday Times reprinted W.H. Auden's scathingly funny 1948 essay about writers. From "So you think you can write?":

Among this host of would-be writers, the majority have no literary gift. This is not surprising in itself. A marked gift for anything is not very common.

What is surprising is that such a high percentage of those without a marked talent for any particular profession should think of writing as the solution. One would expect that a certain percentage would imagine they had a talent for medicine, a certain percentage for engineering, and so on. But this is not the case. In our age, if a boy or a girl is untalented, the odds are in favour of their thinking they want to write.

When so many untalented people all express a wish to write, the public must be labouring under some strange misapprehensions as to the nature of literature.

Indeed.

One can only wonder what Auden, a wordsmith if ever there were one, would make of a "writer" who billed himself as a wordsmith.

He might laugh.

Until he wept.

You knew this already, right?

Horror in the genes?

Related (sort of, anyway) entry: Book wars.

A word. A day.

She was heard murmuring disingenuously, "I don't know why this word just popped into my head." POP!

This weekend's Project Feederwatch results

Mourning Dove (2)
Eastern Screech-Owl (1)
Red-bellied Woodpecker (1)
Downy Woodpecker (1)
Blue Jay (3)
American Crow (1)
Black-capped Chickadee (8)
Red-breasted Nuthatch (1)
White-breasted Nuthatch (2)
Dark-eyed Junco (10)
Northern Cardinal (2)
Purple Finch (4)
House Finch (1)
American Goldfinch (4)
House Sparrow (8)

Better late than never: My (recycled) St. Patrick's Day post.

On the nightstand

For this edition of "On the nightstand," I actually took several photos of the piles of books scattered throughout the little house in the tiny woods on the prairie. My idea had been to run several smaller images, but none of the rest had much character, if you know what I mean, so the above must do.

It's not such a bad place to start, really.

:: Sit & Solve Easy Crosswords (Nancy Cole Stuart)
How it ended up on the stack: I discussed that here.

:: The Descendants (Kaui Hart Hemmings).
How it ended up on the stack: I wrote about this uncorrected proof / advance reader copy here, and, yes, this appeared in the last "On the nightstand" entry. It just hasn't grabbed me by my readerly lapels, you know?

:: The Complete Stories (Flannery O'Connor).
How it ended up on the stack: Master and I read "Greenleaf" a couple of weeks ago. I suggested he follow our discussion with more O'Connor. We're processing (or, in my case, reprocessing) "A Good Man Is Hard to Find," "Good Country People," and "Everything that Rises Must Converge."

:: The Last Place on Earth (Roland Huntford)
How it ended up on the stack: Margaret added to Susan's discussion of The Terror (Dan Simmons) and that was that -- I had to have both books. (Related aside: Paul Theroux introduces the Modern Library Exploration edition of The Last Place on Earth, which delighted my sense of reading synchronicity -- the author of the next book is Theroux's son.)
Excerpt:

In the lifeless Antartic hinterland, the depot journeys were more than a matter of tactics; they were the very instruments of survival. The manner in which they were launched and carried out embodied, indeed caricatured, the essential difference between the Norwegian and British expeditions.

:: The Call of the Weird: Travels in American Subcultures (Louis Theroux)
How it ended up on the stack: It's a review copy.
Excerpt:

Weirdness, as I understand the word, is a form of belief or practice that isn't merely outside the mainstream but is also in some way self-sabotaging. Having sex on camera for a living violates the most intimate sphere of life; to pay someone money to hypnotize you into being a millionaire is foolishness; preparing for an apocalypse that never comes is, among other things, a distraction from the more important business of life. To me these things are axiomatic.

:: The Physics of Superheroes (James Kakalios).
How it ended up on the stack: Well, it arrived in this box. Master took it off one of my piles and has been dipping in and out.

:: Farmer Boy (Laura Ingalls Wilder).
:: Farmer Boy (read by Cherry Jones).
How it ended up on the stack: I have two daughters. They are readers, thinkers, autodidacts. They are, in short, my children. Of course, these would arrive on the stack at some point! Kidding aside, Cherry Jones reading the Little House series will rank high on my list of "unexpected delights" when I recount our homeschooling adventures someday. Her voice performance, including her renditions of the many songs that punctuate Wilder's narrative, is just wonderful. Paul Woodiel gives a memorable voice to Pa's fiddle, too.

Lovely.

Related aside: I remember Farmer Boy rather undoing my Little House momentum when I was a young reader. I remember stumbling through it, wondering, "Where's Laura? Where's Pa?" The Misses M-mv and I read a biography of Wilder that maintains Farmer Boy was actually her second work. (For those of you already steeped in Wilder lore, I realize this is old news.) It seemed to me such simple matter to set aside Almanzo's story until we had worked through most of Laura's.

Well, the library didn't have the audio to complement The First Four Years when we were ready, so we decided that this was a good time to learn more about Almanzo's family. How neat that my daughters aren't perplexed the way I was. They love the story.

:: John Adams (David McCullough).
:: John Adams (unabridged audio).
How it ended up on the stack: Master chose it as a complement to his American history reading. Mr. is listening, too. Both give it rave reviews.

:: Can You Find It? (The Metropolitan Museum of Art).
:: Can You Find It, Too? (The Metropolitan Museum of Art).
How it ended up on the stack: We chose these for our over-breakfast warm-up and weren't disappointed at. all. Splendid, beautiful books. Don't miss them.

:: Adult All-In-One Course: Lesson-Theory-Technic: Level 1.
:: Alfred's Basic Adult All-Time Favorites.
:: Greatest Hits, Level 1.
:: Hanon: The Virtuoso Pianist in 60 Exercises (Charles-Louis Hanon; edited by Allan Small).
How it ended up on the stack: Oh, you know why.

:: David Copperfield (Charles Dickens).
How it ended up on the stack: As I mentioned here, the family book club is reading this sloooowly -- motivated by the idea of reading Dickens the way he published this novel (i.e., serially), we're tackling a chapter a day every weekday for another (*GULP*) ten weeks. I realize we have been talking about this project forever, but the club was derailed by conference training, Mr. M-mv's recent travel schedule and stepped-up project demands, lifeguard training responsibilities, and my work deadlines. We've recommitted, though. (More on what I'll need to set aside in order to meet my deadlines in just a minute.)

From SparkNotes:

The episodic, plot-heavy nature of David Copperfield stems from the fact that it was originally published as a serial, in pieces over time. Dickens inserted several mini-climaxes and resolutions and deliberately built suspense toward the end of each section in order to compel his readers to buy and read the next installment. [...] Because David Copperfield was written as a serial novel, it focuses in large part on plot and rarely stops to describe characters or settings in detail. The characters develop chiefly through their actions, and it is only over time that we get to know them—Dickens never includes any kind of thorough character analysis or description when he introduces a character.

Many other books are clamoring for a note or an aside in this entry, but they must wait until another time. I am, you see, dreadfully behind in my work. When I was sick last week and early this week, I opted to sleep -- going to bed as early as I needed, sleeping as late as required -- in order to speed my return to health. This was wise; I am doing well now when so many others complain of this virus lingering. The downside to all of this self-nurturing, though, is that I have fallen behind in my work.

So...

If you write to me between now and the end of the month, expect no reply. If you've been with me since the beginning, steel yourself for some "repeats" (i.e., "From the archives" entries). If you sent me a review copy and it hasn't been mentioned, trust that it will get a nod -- in April.

That about covers it.

Hey! Have you visited our store?

It's back!

Chris' Eastern Screech Owl Nest Box Cam' is up and running.

Fine Art Friday

George Frederick Watts, 1817-1904
"Ophelia," c. 1864

Of all of the Ophelia images I studied for this week's Fine Art Friday entry, this one -- the elf-like Ophelia -- is my favorite. Watts used Ellen Terry, his young wife, as the model. She left him a year later, Terry did. And in 1878 the actress played Ophelia opposite Sir Henry Irving in his celebrated production of Hamlet at the Lyceum.

Isn't life ... wonderfully odd? Especially in the retelling.

Narrative is everything, I think.

Did you know...?
The Ophelia painted by John Everett Millais a decade before Watts painted Terry peering through the reeds is actually the more famous depiction of Shakespeare's suicidal miss.

Did you go look? And?

Eh.

Not my cuppa. Yours?

Now this? This next bit? This is my cuppa.

Hamlet , Act V, scene 1.

First Clown
Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their even Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: they hold up Adam's profession.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the popular press' claim of a link between suicide and the holidays is unfounded, a myth. "In fact," notes the CDC web site, "suicide rates in the United States are lowest in the winter and highest in the spring."

In other words, March and April are the cruelest months.

Indeed.

Twenty-four years ago yesterday, someone I loved committed suicide. No one talked about it then. No one talks about it now, really. I didn't learn that his was a death by suicide until a couple of years ago.

Because someone decided it was time to talk about it.

Better late than never, right?

Right.

Suicide is the eighth leading cause of death for all U.S. men, maintains the CDC (although, interestingly, Reuters Health reports that heavy men may be less apt to commit suicide).

Folks spend an awful lot of time fussing over (or at least paying lip service to) healthy hearts and arteries and muscles and teeth. Oh, and the time and money they throw at appearances -- hair and skin and nails... and weight.

But do they talk, really talk about mental health with their primary care physicians? Do they invest, really invest in their emotional well-being?

In short, will they seek help if they need it? Will they even know they need help?

Because, as it turns out, "with help comes hope."

"Suicide is NEVER the answer," asserts Suicide.org. "Getting help is the answer."

Getting help is the answer.
Know the suicide warning signs. If you know someone who may be suicidal:

Listen to him with sincere concern for his feelings. Do not offer advice, but let him know he is not alone.

Share your feelings. If you feel that he may make a reckless decision, tell him that you are concerned. He needs to know that he is important to you and that you care.

Ask -- in a straightforward and caring manner -- if he has had suicidal thoughts or if he has made a suicide plan. If you feel you cannot ask the question, find someone who can.

If you or someone you know needs help, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255.

The Mayo Clinic offers these additional suggestions.

And, if you're like me, someone who knows someone who died by suicide, you may find the collection of articles at the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) helpful.

From the AFSP:

[Y]ou should know that 90 percent of all people who die by suicide have a diagnosable psychiatric disorder at the time of their death (most often depression or bipolar disorder). Just as people can die of heart disease or cancer, people can die as a consequence of mental illness. Try to bear in mind that suicide is almost always complicated, resulting from a combination of painful suffering, desperate hopelessness and underlying psychiatric illness.

Take care of yourselves.

Take care of one another.

Grammar is fun.

I read "'Grammar Girl' sets write course on word use" in yesterday's Sun-Times, but the link is for the online edition of Delaware's News Journal). From John Faherty's profile:

Grammar Girl is Mignon Fogarty, a 39-year-old technical writer from Gilbert who has combined her love of language with an online expertise to develop the Grammar Girl character.

Her podcasts have been downloaded more than 3 million times since July. There is enough interest that Fogarty was able to quit her day job.

Also in yesterday's Sun-Times, "Cicadas bring art of noise" (because I think bugs are fun, too):

Though they're expected to emerge in June, a spate of wet, warm weather could prompt the cicadas to appear sooner, Hong said. When the ground temperature hits a consistent 64 degrees, they tunnel out and begin a six-week process of mating and laying eggs in trees, she said. Once the eggs hatch, the young cicadas eat and then crawl into the ground, to next return in 2024.

(Note: I employed the word cacophony in yesterday's entry before reading the newspaper. Heh, heh, heh.)

The recommended daily allowance

I am just about over whatever virus Master and I succumbed to last week. (It was a false alarm -- the Misses' coughing and sneezing. As it turns out, only two-fifths of Family M-mv has been sick -- knock wood!) While in the tightest grip of it, though, I couldn't access large portions of my brain -- too fuzzy. These puzzles reminded me that I did, in fact, have a brain to access. Pop one in your knapsack for the next time you need to wait in line at the post office or Jewel.

1 across: Perfect (five letters)
14 across: Monikers (five letters)
17 down: Mathematical comparison (five letters)
21 down: Previously owned (four letters)

These won't launch you into NYT crossword mastery, but they're perfect for days when you're at half-power and need a little something to remind you about "the life of the mind, Barton."

(Name the film reference without the help of a search engine.)

Quotidian

On the last day of January, we finally had the new dryer installed. Its forefather had gone in a noisy, joyless cacaphony of metal scraping on metal. How odd, then, that after only, what, five? six? weeks, this dryer should begin muttering the same mirthless tune.

It's nearly seventy degrees here, but the quickly warmed soil hasn't developed that moist, green "We're alive! We're still alive!" scent. No, it sort of smells a little off out there, although the breeze moving through the house is pleasant. Anyway, no clothes on a line for us. They're hanging on the shower curtain rod.

Now that's a look.

Thank goodness the repairman comes tomorrow.

On the other hand, we use a delicious-smelling softener, and the gentle roar of mid-March's lion is moving the scent into all of the wintry corners of the little house in the tiny woods on the prairie.

In all things, find what's worth celebrating.

The snow melted.

Dummies Book Cover Generator, with a virtual nod to bookbabie.

"I know of no larger indictment of the world's descent into subliteracy."

Heh, heh, heh. Our dear Mr. Bloom rants again, this time, in the March 12 issue of Newsweek. From "A Life in Books":

I won't say [Shakespeare] "invented" us, because journalists perpetually misunderstand me on that. I'll put it more simply: he contains us. Our ways of thinking and feeling—about ourselves, those we love, those we hate, those we realize are hopelessly "other" to us—are more shaped by Shakespeare than they are by the experience of our own lives.

M-mv on Bloom:

Book wars (11.30.2003)
Harold Bloom (10.28.2005)

From The American Religion (Harold Bloom):

This book, The American Religion, has lived mostly underground since its original publication fourteen years ago. Out of print, it still circulated steadily among readers increasingly aware of the intensifying strategic alliance between the Republican Party and millions of those I term explicit American Religionists. I bring the book back into print now unrevised, except for this coda to a coda. But then, how much has changed? The second President Bush’s triumphalism is a faith-based initiative in itself. His born-again Iraqi war lingers on, a fleeting and possibly illusory victory. Gasoline soon could cost three dollars a gallon, and the United States economy exists only by borrowing more than two billion dollars a day, from China, Taiwan, Japan, and assorted European creditors. Our currency is debased, our deficit is immense, and much of our public appears to expect an imminent Rapture. Freud and Marx must fret, in Elysium, that they are forgotten while Darwin abides as a Satan whose science of Evolution is eclipsed by a bellicose Creationism.

Read the complete excerpt here.

Five blogs that make me think

More virus-induced tears! Sheila nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award.

Per the award program instructions, I am delighted to name my five nominees:

~ ~The Sheila Variations: Unabashed opinions on books, films, and life.

~ ~Magnificent Octopus: Literary responses to good and great books.

~ ~Pages Turned: An electronic chapbook, a few cats, and an affinity for towering TBR piles.

~ ~Semicolon: Book reviews, "Lost" talk, film recommendations, and a voice I enjoy hearing.

~ ~Surface-Mined: A newer blog kept by a reader, thinker, and autodidact.

My personal space issues are legendary, but I'm certain I'd enjoy meeting the folks behind these blogs. They make. me. think. And as anyone who reads M-mv knows, that's my highest compliment.

Back in December 2004, M-mv was named a finalist in the Best of Blogs category "Best Literary/Book Blog." Through the virtual competition I discovered two excellent blogs: Magnificent Octopus and The Sheila Variations. Although I don't keep a blogroll, I have, in the intervening two years, repeatedly recommended and linked these sites because I admire them both.

Well, today, in my virus-weakened state, I was reduced to tears by one of the aforementioned bloggers.

Many thanks for getting it, Sheila.

Fine Art Friday

Gustav Klimt, 19862-1918
"Champ de coquelicot" (Poppy Field), 1907

Klimt once said of his own work:

I can paint and draw. I believe as much myself and others also say they believe it. But I am not sure that it is true. Only two things are certain:

1. I have never painted a self-portrait. I am less interested in myself as a subject for a painting than I am in other people, above all women. But other subjects interest me even more. I am convinced that I am not particularly interesting as a person. There is nothing special about me. I am a painter who paints day after day from morning until night. Figures and landscapes, portraits less often.

2. I have the gift of neither the spoken nor the written word, especially if I have to say something about myself or my work. Even when I have a simple letter to write I am filled with fear and trembling as though on the verge of being sea-sick. For this reason people must do without an artistic or literary self-portrait. And this should not be regretted. Whoever wants to know something about me--as an artist, the only notable thing--ought to look carefully at my pictures and try and see in them what I am and what I want to do.

Two-fifths of Family M-mv has been sick all week. Not as sick as others say they are, true, but sick enough. Our work is up to date, though, and we're reading, thinking, learning (practicing, writing, drawing, dreaming). It is remarkable what one can accomplish simply because he or she says, "I can."

Happy Friday, folks.

Added a little later: Can this really be my thirty-third Fine Art Friday post? Sheesh.

"If they don’t believe in God, what exactly are they afraid of?"

From "Darwin's God" (The New York Times Magazine, March 4, 2007):

Lost in the hullabaloo over the neo-atheists is a quieter and potentially more illuminating debate. It is taking place not between science and religion but within science itself, specifically among the scientists studying the evolution of religion. These scholars tend to agree on one point: that religious belief is an outgrowth of brain architecture that evolved during early human history. What they disagree about is why a tendency to believe evolved, whether it was because belief itself was adaptive or because it was just an evolutionary byproduct, a mere consequence of some other adaptation in the evolution of the human brain.

I don't like Mondays.

Did you watch "House" tonight? I laughed aloud -- in what? recognition? delight at the familiar? amazement at music's ability to yank us back in time? -- when Hugh Laurie played the opening measures of this old song, and Dave Matthews as the savant repeated the passage.

Clap-clap. Clap-clap.

You know the story, right? The Boomtown Rats song "I Don't Like Mondays" was inspired by a deadly school shooting twenty-seven years ago.

Another three weeks without the curmudgeon, by the way. "House" returns on March 27.

Devotionals

From the March 6 entry in A Book of Days for the Literary Year (edited by Neal T. Jones), an RDA way back on 1.07.2004 and a constant companion of mine since October 9, 1986:

1806 Elizabeth Barret Browing is born at Coxhoe Hall, Durham. 1885 Ring (Ringgold Wilmer) Lardner, Sr. — "Jupiter on tiptoes" to Ernest Hemingway — is born in Niles, Mich. Known for his comic writing, the author of Gullible's Travels nonetheless will ask: "How can you write if you can't cry?" 1928 Gabriel García Márquez (One Hundred Years of Solitude) is born in Aracataca, Colombia. He will win the 1982 Nobel Prize for Literature. 1982 Ayn Rand, author of The Fountainhead, dies in New York City, aged 77.

From the Week 9, Day 2 entry in The Intellectual Devotional: Revive Your Mind, Complete Your Education, and Roam Confidently with the Cultured Class (David S. Kidder and Noah D. Oppenheim), an RDA on 10.15.2006:

Gabriel García Márquez
Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez, more than probably any other figure, is responsible for drawing the world's attention to Latin American literature during the twentieth century. In his novels and short stories, he has explored the history and people of his home continent through a lens that combines real events with pervasive currents of fantasy and myth.

Born in the town of Aracataca in northern Colombia in 1928 García Márquez grew up immersed in family stories told and retold by his elders....

Talk about the synthesis of one's reading, thinking, and learning, eh? Why, even my secular devotionals line up. Heh, heh, heh.

Let me recommend these two books to you again.

Added a little later:
Still reading David Copperfield (see this entry) and The Story of Art (see this entry). Still practicing in Adult All-In-One Course: Lesson-Theory-Technic: Level 1. Still enjoying many subscriptions. And still finding time for a host of other interesting titles (like these).

How 'bout you?

Make time, folks. Make time.

It's Casimir Pulaski Day again.

From the short bio at the Chicago Public Library's site:

Casimir Pulaski belongs to that select group of heroes, including the Marquis de Lafayefte, Thomas Paine, Giuseppe Garibaldi, and Pulaski's fellow countryman, Thaddeus Kosciuszko, who opposed tyranny not only in their homelands, but wherever they found it. We especially honor Pulaski because he paid the ultimate price, having sustained a mortal wound while fighting for American independence at the battle of Savannah in 1779. Today he remains a symbol of the ideal of valiant resistance to oppression everywhere in the world.

According the Chicago Trib article (registration required), public schools in the City of Chicago and in many of the suburbs as well as city and county government offices will be closed.

But, hey! The mail will be delivered.

Celebrate the hero by visiting Fluky's, which -- last time I checked -- still celebrates Casimir Pulaski Day with a giveaway to any customer whose first, last or middle name ends in "ski."

Fluky's are at 520 N. Michigan, (312) 245-0702, and Lincoln Town Center, 3333 W. Touhy, Lincolnwood, (847) 677-7726. Call first to avoid disappointment.

For more information, visit www.flukys.com.

Enjoy the day.

Did you know daylight saving time will begin next Sunday? It will end the first Sunday in November. Mark your calendars now. And read the rest of the story here.

[US Representative Edward J.] Markey convinced Congress the change would save energy because Americans would not need as many lights in the evening. In 2005, he struck again, tucking a monthlong extension into a massive energy bill that took effect this year. In addition to moving the start of daylight saving time to the second Sunday in March, the law pushes the end back a week, to the first Sunday in November. That will make it safer for children to trick or treat, since it will be lighter on Halloween, Markey said.

Related reading: Spring Forward: The Annual Madness of Daylight Saving Time (Michael Downing).

The recommended daily allowance

From Sister Bernadette's Barking Dog: The Quirky History and Lost Art of Diagramming Sentences (Kitty Burns Florey):

As I started to say a couple of digressions ago, although diagramming a sentence can sometimes expose its structural problems, it doesn't touch the deeper issues. A diagram can't ferret out a lie, correct a lapse in logic, or explain a foray into sheer lunacy. And, for all its tail-wagging cuteness, it can't expose the pitiful state of the speaker's education -- or the problems with an educational system that cuts funding instead of providing our schools with smaller classes, enough textbooks, and well-stocked libraries.

If you enjoyed this, you'll like Barking Dog. A lot.

Party on, stuffed simians!

The Third Annual Sock Monkey Madness Festival:
Primates of the Caribbean!

Fine Art Friday

Maurits Cornelis Escher (1898-1972)
"Three Worlds," 1955

From The Mathematical Art of M.C. Escher:

Maurits Cornelis Escher, who was born in Leeuwarden, Holland in 1898, created unique and fascinating works of art that explore and exhibit a wide range of mathematical ideas.

While he was still in school his family planned for him to follow his father's career of architecture, but poor grades and an aptitude for drawing and design eventually led him to a career in the graphic arts. His work went almost unnoticed until the 1950’s, but by 1956 he had given his first important exhibition, was written up in Time magazine, and acquired a world-wide reputation. Among his greatest admirers were mathematicians, who recognized in his work an extraordinary visualization of mathematical principles. This was the more remarkable in that Escher had no formal mathematics training beyond secondary school.

As his work developed, he drew great inspiration from the mathematical ideas he read about, often working directly from structures in plane and projective geometry, and eventually capturing the essence of non-Euclidean geometries, as we will see below. He was also fascinated with paradox and "impossible" figures, and used an idea of Roger Penrose’s to develop many intriguing works of art. Thus, for the student of mathematics, Escher’s work encompasses two broad areas: the geometry of space, and what we may call the logic of space.

___________________

The recommended daily allowance
In October 2005, I read and recommended Marjane Satrapi's memoirs Persepolis and Persepolis II.

Last night, I consumed Chicken with Plums. Two words: heartbreakingly perfect.

Don't miss Satrapi.

Added a little later: Terry Gross of NPR's "Fresh Air" interviewed Marjane Satrapi in 2003. (Twenty minutes; press "Listen.")

Playwright of the Globe

From all around the globe—from Frankfurt to Tokyo, from Prague to Moscow—we have testimony to Shakespeare's power, his ability to move people of all nations, to inspire them, to shake them out of ingrained modes of thought and feeling, to give them the strength to question and challenge authority. Above all, we see how Shakespeare remains politically relevant to a wide variety of situations around the world; he seems to be taken most seriously by people who find themselves in the middle of a crisis and, in particular, who feel their liberties threatened. Such proof of Shakespeare's enduring relevance flies in the face of the claims made by those scholars who insist his universality is a sham, a kind of cultural myth. We must assume that only a set of theoretical presuppositions could be blinding them to such an obvious truth. (Evidently Shakespeare's art is a classic case of something that works well in practice, but not in theory—at least in literary theory.) These scholars turn out to be operating with a false conception of culture.

Read the complete article here.

Old news

Back in December, The Times Union ran a story on the erratic heartbeat of the literary canon. From "Siena opens new chapter in Great Books debate":

The literary canon may not be dead across America's college campuses, but its heartbeat has grown weak and erratic.

That's the diagnosis of the Siena Research Institute, which has been putting its finger on the pulse of the so-called Great Books debate since 1985.

Siena's third and latest national survey shows a steady erosion when it comes to the standing of the classics, according to 4,125 freshmen and 215 faculty who filled out questionnaires.

It uses as a baseline a list of 30 Great Books selected in 1984 by William Bennett, then chair of the National Endowment for the Humanities under President Ronald Reagan. Bennett created the list with input from his friends, including the conservative columnist George Will.

Siena repeated its survey on the 30 classic titles in 1997 and 2006.

"In every case, the expectations by faculty what they believe college freshmen should have read in high school exceeds the reality of what they've actually read," said Tom Kelly, a Siena history professor emeritus. He conducted the survey with Douglas Lonnstrom, director of the Research Institute.

"There's a continuity of decline," Kelly said. "When you get to the bottom 10 of the 30 books, they're being read by fewer and fewer students."

According to the Times Union books blog, this is the list of books:

1. The Works of Shakespeare
2. The Declaration of Independence
3. Twain, Mark, Huckleberry Finn
4. The poems of Emily Dickinson
5. The poems of Robert Frost
6. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, The Scarlet Letter
7. Fitzgerald, Scott F., The Great Gatsby
8. Orwell, George, 1984
9. Homer, Odyssey and Iliad
10. Dickens, Charles, Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities
11. Chaucer, Geoffrey, The Canterbury Tales
12. Salinger, J.D., Catcher in the Rye
13. The Bible
14. Thoreau, Henry David, Walden
15. Sophocles, Oedipus
16. Steinbeck, John, The Grapes of Wrath
17. Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essays and poems
18. Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice
19. Whitman, Walt, Leaves of Grass
20. The novels of William Faulkner
21. Melville, Herman, Moby Dick
22. Milton, John, Paradise Lost
23. Vergil, Aeneid
24. Plato, The Republic
25. Marx, Karl, Communist Manifesto
26. Machiavelli, Niccolo, The Prince
27. Tocqueville, Alexis de, Democracy in America
28. Dostoevski, Feodor, Crime and Punishment
29. Aristotle, Politics
30. Tolstoy, Leo, War and Peace

My take? On 20: All of Faulkner's novels? Not I. Three, though, which I think is adequate -- for a middle-aged autodidact, let alone a college undergrad. On 23, 27, 28, and 30: All of these are on my TBR lists for 2007-2008. On 13: I have not read the bible, cover to cover. On 1: Master has read all of his works now; I am still working. Next up: Measure for Measure.

So I took the pulse of the canon (about two and a half months after everyone else did), and it's strong here in the little house on the tiny woods on the prairie.