Over Christmas my dad said he’d noticed that nothing had been happening on this blog, and it’s true. Moreover, it’s probably going to get – in a way – worse, as I prepare for my final examinations in May. My good angel says keeping a blog – writing for its own sake – would be a welcome alternative to weekly work, but the truth is that the quality would be very low and uninspired. I predict as the next two terms wear on that my trips outside the garret (I’m living once more in my happy attic room overlooking Holywell Street) will be less and less and that my excursions into books not necessary to my passing Finals will be similarly restricted. I’d still like to keep this moving, however, if only as a record to myself of what I’m reading.
So, in that spirit I’d like to post a quotation every day – long or short – from something I’ve read during the day. I’m going to try to avoid the purely inspirational and vary it from day to day and present amusing things from the newspaper, from poetry or prose, drama, criticism, diaries, letters etc. Anything is game. It’s likely that certain characters will figure quite highly, at least at first: this term I’m writing an extended essay on Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Lowell, and Randall Jarrell, so mid-century American poets may particularly feature. Shakespeare, too, is studied this term. Then, over the Easter break, things should descend into madness. This and, I hope, organ lessons in our chapel, will minimize that madness.
I’ll begin with this elegant observation:
‘Oxford graduates smell…’ Elizabeth Bishop to Robert Lowell, August 26th, 1963