All hail The Word!
A lovely weekend stretches out before me, unplanned, unfilled. Shall I go to the movies? Paint? Go shopping for that strapless bra I so desperately need to go under my summer tank tops? All of the above?
The one thing I NEED to do is buy a book for my brand new book club meeting this Thursday: “Snow Flower and the Secret Fan”. It’s 288 pages, which I can SO knock out in a day. Maybe even four consecutive hours. I have been reading for pleasure since I was a wee girl, when Mom would bring TL and me to the library, and we’d all separate, pick out our books and re-join at the checkout desk. I usually came staggering up with a stack of novels. I’ve always loved the printed Word. I adore discovering good, solid writers. Themes and character studies wrapped in fascinating plots, wrapped in poetic wordcraft…there’s nothing better to eat! I’m a bookeater. Books sustain me like protein, vitamins, minerals. If the book is rich enough, I’m turning it over and over in my mind for days or weeks after I’m done reading it. If it’s an exceptional book, it’s a lifetime influence, settling into my bones like calcium, into my marrow like iron. I’ve found my share of those, and, like rare delicacies, they are the best finds.
And to be able to discuss books with others who’ve also read them…it’s like going out to eat at a five-star restaurant with friends. I used to love my literature classes in college (at one point, I’d decided to minor in literature, so I took a ton of lit classes, before alternately deciding to just get the hell out of college and graduate already with my art major, dropping the minor…). We’d all be on fire walking into class, having read five chapters the night before, and we’d have marathon discussions in the hour-and-a-half period. We were electric with ideas. And now, post-college, I turn to book clubs to find the same enthusiasm that I still have for discussing books. This one that I have just joined is all women, in my geographic area, and my age range, so I’m really looking forward to meeting them. I’m trying not to romanticize how I think it will be, because that’s not productive. But I do know we will be discussing what we have read, and I know I will dig in to that with all of my teeth. My Aquarian moon exposes itself and basks in intellectual discussion. And hell, wine will also be served, which appeals to my Taurean self…
I have also been long playing with the idea of resurrecting the salon. Long, long ago, people would gather in living rooms (hence the name “salon”—French for “living room” or “parlor”) and focus on an art form or intellectual pursuit, like poetry or philosophy or acting scenes or playing music or viewing the visual arts, later discussing their impressions and opinions with each other. I have so many ideas for these! So many of us don’t have time to go to museums or plays or concerts, so why not bring the arts to people, instead? We need the arts, like water, or else we die. Many of us don’t take this into account, because we don’t realize it, with our working and taking care of our families. We handle our responsibilities like worthy adults, but often neglect to “feed our heads”, and sometimes we get to feeling how vastly empty our lives are, like T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland”. I see edges of this sometimes in my friends and family. So! We cannot continue in this vein! And so I say, Salon! The details I will work out, and then I will call them to salon.
The one thing I NEED to do is buy a book for my brand new book club meeting this Thursday: “Snow Flower and the Secret Fan”. It’s 288 pages, which I can SO knock out in a day. Maybe even four consecutive hours. I have been reading for pleasure since I was a wee girl, when Mom would bring TL and me to the library, and we’d all separate, pick out our books and re-join at the checkout desk. I usually came staggering up with a stack of novels. I’ve always loved the printed Word. I adore discovering good, solid writers. Themes and character studies wrapped in fascinating plots, wrapped in poetic wordcraft…there’s nothing better to eat! I’m a bookeater. Books sustain me like protein, vitamins, minerals. If the book is rich enough, I’m turning it over and over in my mind for days or weeks after I’m done reading it. If it’s an exceptional book, it’s a lifetime influence, settling into my bones like calcium, into my marrow like iron. I’ve found my share of those, and, like rare delicacies, they are the best finds.
And to be able to discuss books with others who’ve also read them…it’s like going out to eat at a five-star restaurant with friends. I used to love my literature classes in college (at one point, I’d decided to minor in literature, so I took a ton of lit classes, before alternately deciding to just get the hell out of college and graduate already with my art major, dropping the minor…). We’d all be on fire walking into class, having read five chapters the night before, and we’d have marathon discussions in the hour-and-a-half period. We were electric with ideas. And now, post-college, I turn to book clubs to find the same enthusiasm that I still have for discussing books. This one that I have just joined is all women, in my geographic area, and my age range, so I’m really looking forward to meeting them. I’m trying not to romanticize how I think it will be, because that’s not productive. But I do know we will be discussing what we have read, and I know I will dig in to that with all of my teeth. My Aquarian moon exposes itself and basks in intellectual discussion. And hell, wine will also be served, which appeals to my Taurean self…
I have also been long playing with the idea of resurrecting the salon. Long, long ago, people would gather in living rooms (hence the name “salon”—French for “living room” or “parlor”) and focus on an art form or intellectual pursuit, like poetry or philosophy or acting scenes or playing music or viewing the visual arts, later discussing their impressions and opinions with each other. I have so many ideas for these! So many of us don’t have time to go to museums or plays or concerts, so why not bring the arts to people, instead? We need the arts, like water, or else we die. Many of us don’t take this into account, because we don’t realize it, with our working and taking care of our families. We handle our responsibilities like worthy adults, but often neglect to “feed our heads”, and sometimes we get to feeling how vastly empty our lives are, like T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland”. I see edges of this sometimes in my friends and family. So! We cannot continue in this vein! And so I say, Salon! The details I will work out, and then I will call them to salon.
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Looking forward to meeting you upon your return!