2013/11/12

praying for a nerve cell with all the soul of my chemical reactions and going right on down where the eye sees only traces




Found that last night. I'd completely forgot about Dara until Biblioklept wrote about The Lost Scrapbook a few weeks ago. I went to find my copy and couldn't, was afraid it might have been accidentally scooped up in a bookshelves purge some months ago. The above is a first edition, I bought it immediately after reading the glowing review excerpted on the back by Richard Powers. Book arrived, I left it on the floor, and Katie






(the one on the right) chewed and slobbered on it. I put it on a bookshelf to dry out and there it remained, buried behind others, until discovered last night when looking for something else. Read twenty pages, I know myself too well enough to not express a judgment to myself yet*, but... the hold-up scene early is promising. What else I want to note is Richard Powers: He hasn't a novel since 2009's Generosity. His 2006 Echo Maker I've called the best 911 novel I've read. Mention of possible future Nobel for Powers used to circulate. I haven't thought of or heard anything about a new Powers in two, three years. Wiki suggests there's a 2014 novel on tap.














HYMN

A.R. Ammons

I know if I find you I will have to leave the earth
and go on out
     over the sea marshes and the brant in bays
and over the hills of tall hickory
and over the crater lakes and canyons
and on up through the spheres of diminishing air
past the blackset noctilucent clouds
           where one wants to stop and look
way past all the light diffusions and bombardments
up farther than the loss of sight
    into the unseasonal undifferentiated empty stark
And I know if I find you I will have to stay with the earth
inspecting with thin tools and ground eyes
trusting the microvilli sporangia and simplest
     coelenterates
and praying for a nerve cell
with all the soul of my chemical reactions
and going right on down where the eye sees only traces
You are everywhere partial and entire
You are on the inside of everything and on the outside
I walk down the path down the hill where the sweetgum
has begun to ooze spring sap at the cut
and I see how the bark cracks and winds like no other bark
chasmal to my ant-soul running up and down
and if I find you I must go out deep into your
    far resolutions

and if I find you I must stay here with the separate leaves