Rambling thoughts from a rambling remembrance of the read

I was always a good reader and, as an adult, I border on the voracious. The subject matter and genre is almost irrelevant (but please don't bother me with romance, western, or any of that Harry Potter or Twilight stuff. "Let's see how many cliches we can get into one page - or one plot!") But, there were those who, with all good intentions, almost turned me off reading.
When I was in 5th grade my teacher noticed that I enjoyed reading stories of the sea. I guess she thought she was doing me a favor when she gave me a copy of Moby Dick. I had no chance then of understanding that this was more than a whopping good whaling tale - although it is all of that. Other meanings completely escaped me, as  - well, gee, it's one of the most difficult, complex reads of western civilization, and I was a FIFTH-GRADER, for crying out loud. But, she did do me a favor, after all. When I was an adult I came back to Moby Dick. I can't say I completely comprehend even yet - but I greatly appreciate the art.

I will be forever thankful for those who, over the years, introduced and reintroduced me to Shakespeare. I am, by dint of personality, more in tune with the tragedies than the comedies. I wasn't introduced to my favorite while in school. King Lear is the darkest of his tragedies. The role of Lear is a role that separates the actors from the hacks. The role of the fool is no easy role, either. That fool is no fool!  

Lear opens with a conversation between the King and his three daughters. Lear has set a competition between his daughters to see which of them can praise him most extravagantly. Two of the daughters rise to the occasion splendidly but the third, Cordelia, is not gifted with skills of flowery speech. She only pledges what a daughter owes her father. Lear misses the significance of this. He splits his kingdom between the two big talkers, who barely wait to leave the room before they plot against him. He exiles Cordelia, who was loyal to him and would remain so to the end.

We were introduced to Thoreau as juniors in high school. I think it's appropriate - this is a writer that should be encountered at some time - but Thoreau is a lot more comprehensible to one who approaches him with some life experience. Thoreau was a great naturalist, and you can read Walden at that level, but that's missing Thoreau's theme. His theme: we are a composite of choices we've made. Some things that we think we simply must have - just can't do without - others manage to do very nicely without. Walden is a meditation on just what life is really about in its essence. We are our choices - we live the way we live, we occupy the house we live in and live in the location we live in and eat as we eat and sleep as we sleep because of choices. How did we ever get by without I-Pads and smart phones? Gotta have 'em - never mind that most of our forebears didn't have electric lights.

I also read newer stuff, but not much newer fiction. Recently I read On the Brink, Henry Paulson's memoir of the financial crisis of the Bush years. A while ago I saw on Facebook someone's status, "OBAMA - One Big-Ass Mistake America." I guess that passed as clever, in a sort of second-grade, prepubescent sort of way. If you read Paulson's book and pay attention to Paulson's encounters with the two candidates, you realize that Obama was no mistake. McCain would have been one big-ass mistake. America.

And a tip of the hat to one of my heroes in the faith. I wasn't a cradle Catholic - I came to Catholicism in adulthood - and when I was considering the change I encountered the writing of Thomas Merton. I won't try to write for him, but my thoughts on faith, on the pure love of God, on war and peace, almost exactly reflect Merton's.

I'd love to see what writers had an influence on you.

Thanks for hanging out for a few!