Rules: in a text post, list 10 books that have stayed with you in
some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard- they
don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have
touched you. Tag 10 friends, including me, so I’ll see your list.
1. Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood: Think I’ve mentioned this book some time ago in some post or another. When I was a senior in high school my English teacher gave me my first Margaret Atwood book saying my writing reminded him of hers and I’ve been obsessed ever since. This work of hers is by far my favorite, though.
2. Cosmos by Carl Sagan: Another one I believe was aforementioned. Carl is a huge inspiration to me, I think he was one of the most endearing people to have ever existed and it shows in everything that he did. I actually can’t watch his show ‘Cosmos’ without bawling my eyes out. Wish I could have met him.
3. Sexing the Cherry by Jeanette Winterson: I fell in love with this obscure author some time ago and I remember finding this title at a local used book store… it’s a strange and sweet novel filled with twists and turns that completely melted my heart. Some lines in it hit me harder than anything else ever has.
4. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by
Milan Kundera: I didn’t think I’d like this book when I rented it from the library (I go through phases of making myself read new books) but I was blown away. It’s rich in such bizarre philosophy and it completely altered my perception of so many things.
5. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde: Jeez, what a classic. My fifteen year old self read this one over and over. Maddening, sucks you right in.
6. The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand: I usually keep this to myself because it’s something that immediately ruffles feathers but a good friend of mine let me borrow this once and honestly, it’s terrifying and beautiful. Just… try it, okay?
7. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by
Robert Louis Stevenson: This story gives me absolute goosebumps, another classic everyone should take the time to read!
8. House of Leaves by
Mark Z. Danielewski: What can I even say? Impossible to sum up, it’s labyrinthine with scattered greek mythology (which I also love) and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever laid my eyes on before.
9. Modern Love by Elizabeth Hand: Basically my aesthetic.
10. Greek Mythology (in general): I couldn’t think of one particular book, I have a ton and I’ve read way too many in my old Mythology class in high school to even remember. If anyone’s looking to get into it though I’d recommend Ovid’s
and The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony by
“What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.“
L I S T E N it's a Portal Ford (orrr maybe directly after NWHS???) song in my head and it's just. "[spoken, rushed] Carl Sagan once said "for small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love" [singing, slower] sometimes i think all i've learned from the past is / while i've a shortage of love / i've no shortage of vastness"
oh noo?? it works so well but? oh no??
although. i’m mad because i can’t even complain about you inciting these feelings, sad carl sagan-quoting portal ford filk sounds like something i would inflict on people
In every culture, the sky and the religious impulse are intertwined. I lie back in an open field and the sky surrounds me. I’m overpowered by its scale. It’s so vast and so far away that my own insignificance becomes palpable. But I don’t feel rejected by the sky. I’m a part of it - tiny, to be sure, but everything is tiny compared to that overwhelming immensity. And when I concentrate on the stars, the planets, and their motions, I have an irresistible sense of machinery, clockwork, elegant precision working on a scale that, however lofty our aspirations, dwarfs and humbles us.
Both skepticism and wonder are skills that need honing and practice. Their harmonious marriage within the mind of every schoolchild ought to be a principal goal of public education. I’d love to see such a domestic felicity portrayed in the media, television especially: a community of people really working the mix- full of wonder, generously open to every notion, dismissing nothing except for good reason, but at the same time, and as second nature, demanding stringent standards of evidence- and these standards applied with at least as much rigor to what they hold dear as to what they are tempted to reject with impunity.
A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called “leaves”) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time ― proof that humans can work magic.