P&P95 Forever Club's Wonderful and Exciting Giveaway!

As you all well know, I am a proud member of the auspicious P&P95 Forever Club. They host games every week (quite diverting, I assure you!) and by creating this club, they are celebrating the greatest version of Pride and Prejudice of all time (Yes, I am prejudiced, HA!). Hopefully, this summer, I will take more part of their events...

I have decided that I cannot miss this one. The Misses Amy and Marianne (Melody) Dashwood are hosting this splendid giveaway, where the stakes are high (three prizes fit for any self-proclaiming Janeite!). Please do go over there, check the prizes out, and ENTER IT!

I am a contestant. And even though all the prizes are appetizing, the one that really caught my eye was the Pride and Prejudiced themed Teas. I am partial to teas and to Jane Austen! Here is a photo I grabbed from the Giveaway page:

Ooohh...Ahhhh...What a wonderful giveaway!

God Bless,

Bleak House...Quotes and All

I have promised a Bleak House post...so here it is! Even though I finished this novel several months ago, I cannot help but think of it! A review will be coming shortly... But in the meantime, I would like to share with you a few of my favorite quotes from Charles Dickens' greatest novel.

“...he had remarked that there were two classes of charitable people: one, the people who did a little and made a great deal of noise; the other, the people who did a great deal and made no noise at all.”
― Charles Dickens, Bleak House

“if the world go wrong, it was, in some off-hand manner, never meant to go right.”
― Charles Dickens, Bleak House

“I mean a man whose hopes and aims may sometimes lie (as most men's sometimes do, I dare say) above the ordinary level, but to whom the ordinary level will be high enough after all if it should prove to be a way of usefulness and good service leading to no other. All generous spirits are ambitious, I suppose, but the ambition that calmly trusts itself to such a road, instead of spasmodically trying to fly over it, is of the kind I care for.”
― Charles Dickens, Bleak House

Esther Summerton herself says these lines:

“I found every breath of air, and every scent, and every flower and leaf and blade of grass and every passing cloud, and everything in nature, more beautiful and wonderful to me than I had ever found it yet. This was my first gain from my illness. How little I had lost, when the wide world was so full of delight for me.”
― Charles Dickens, Bleak House

This I found particularly true, because I know someone very dear to me who experienced this re-awakening after a dreadful illness. My mother was in pain for two years. She tells me now that she is grateful for every occurrence, for every little good thing that happens in this world. She savors and lives life to the fullest, because by knowing pain she appreciates life and the time we spend together.

Oh my, very sorry to have gone into this tangent. I really could not help it, but seeing this quote for the first time made me think about certain things...

Here is another final quote that I wanted to share with you:

“A word in earnest is as good as a speech.”
― Charles Dickens, Bleak House

Hmm...does that mean that we should dispense with too much convoluted talk and speak more from our hearts with honesty? What do you think?

It is a beautiful day. A wonderful day to ponder over some Charles Dickens, and to be grateful for God's blessings. And Charles Dickens.

Best,

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Unfortunately, I never seem to find enough time to read poetry, although when I do, I drift towards the Romantics like William Blake and John Keats. In fact, on of my favorite poets is the immortal John Keats.

wikipedia.org (William Hilton)

His poetry usually explores the beauty and sometimes sadness of nature. It is also wistful, and his poems depict a pure and innocent world - maybe one that does not even exist. His own life was anything but that which he aspired to in his work. He died at the tender age of 25 and his works were received badly by the critics. I imagine him as a young hero, for he had to endure alienation, poverty, and the death of his brother. Through all these obstacles, he wrote poetry, and did what he loved best. Instead of pursuing a steady medical career, he took upon himself the more dangerous path of a poet. 

  I feel angry when I find that most people have forgotten who Shakespeare was. I do not dare to ask whether they have read any Keats, for the answer would most likely make me froth in rage...

wikipedia.org (J.W. Waterhouse)

Anyways, this poem is beautiful. I have my own secret interpretation of this poem, but I will leave you to read it yourself. Do judge and tell me whether this poet deserves the highest praises.

'O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 

Alone and palely loitering? 

The sedge is wither'd from the lake, 

And no birds sing. 

'O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,           5

So haggard and so woe-begone? 

The squirrel's granary is full, 

And the harvest 's done. 

'I see a lily on thy brow 

With anguish moist and fever dew;            10

And on thy cheeks a fading rose 

Fast withereth too.' 

'I met a lady in the meads, 

Full beautiful—a faery's child, 

Her hair was long, her foot was light,        15

And her eyes were wild. 

'I made a garland for her head, 

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; 

She look'd at me as she did love, 

And made sweet moan.                             20

'I set her on my pacing steed 

And nothing else saw all day long, 

For sideways would she lean, and sing 

A faery's song. 

'She found me roots of relish sweet,          25

And honey wild and manna dew, 

And sure in language strange she said, 

"I love thee true!" 

'She took me to her elfin grot, 

And there she wept and sigh'd fill sore;    30

And there I shut her wild, wild eyes 

With kisses four. 

'And there she lullèd me asleep, 

And there I dream'd—Ah! woe betide! 

The latest dream I ever dream'd                35

On the cold hill's side. 

'I saw pale kings and princes too, 

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; 

They cried—"La belle Dame sans Merci 

Hath thee in thrall!"                                  40

'I saw their starved lips in the gloam 

With horrid warning gapèd wide, 

And I awoke and found me here, 

On the cold hill's side. 

'And this is why I sojourn here                45

Alone and palely loitering, 

Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, 

And no birds sing.'

Oh my goodness. Beautiful. Ethereal. I love it. What do you think?

Now here is my private interpretation: There is a fairy maid who falls in love for the first time, although she has broken many hearts with her beauty. She tells her lover so  ("I love thee true!"), but she has a curse on herself; she cannot stay with him forever, she has to leave in the morning. Hating the thought of being separated, she cries about it (And there she wept and sigh'd fill sore;). So in this version of the story, she is not cruel. She is just tortured by her circumstances. She disappears because she has to...

Now, I hear all of you cry out "For shame, Kathleen! What are you doing twisting Keats' words to fit your tale? It doesn't even make sense. In the end of the poem, everyone denounces her. How can you make that fit inside your theory?"

And I will look at you with a sheepish grin, and with wide eyes say, "T'is true, too true...my imagination does run a little wild now and again. I always want fairies to be benevolent...She is too fair to be malevolent. I am listening...I'll stop this nonsense this very minute. I told you that it was my private interpretation...(smiles)"

Ahem...jokes aside. I do envision John Keats' poem as he would have...but sometimes, I do enjoy making up little backstories (broad grin).

Now...I hope that you fancied that little bit of Keats...and if you did, do read some others. There is a wonderful site www.john-keats.com where all his poems and his letters are available. 

Have a wonderful day,

Tardiness Should not be Endured....

Except when I am the culprit! Please forgive me. Unfortunately, keeping up a blog is not on my priorities list, or "Things that Should be done Right Away" list. Still, this little blog of mine is still in my pile of "Things to do in my Spare Time" (smiles).

                                                                           Credit: Amazon??
So...let me give a little update on my reading plan and progress. I did not have the opportunity to read every single story in the H.P Lovecraft Complete Fiction volume. It was not because of innate laziness, or because of hectic business (although I have been having a lot of that lately...). It was not because I did not enjoy his tales (I did, I really did!) This is the reason; every single story is horror. Or cosmic horror. Actually, his genre can better be classified as weird fiction. Anyways, there was too much of the same thing. Do not get me wrong! I love this author's writing style...I love how he crafts his tales. He builds up the suspense very well in his tales, and makes my skin crawl when he describes some gruesome or scary scene. I thought that I would have nightmares after his stories (not yet...maybe that is in the offing! OH NO!!). So, after reading ten to twelve tales (and finding to my utmost surprise that a confirmed Janeite could enjoy blood-chilling stories...), I finally decided that enough was enough. I was afraid that, after my thirteenth tale, I would be visited by a hideous octopus-headed monster (reference to The Call of Cthuhlu) and be dragged under the sea. I do not fancy that.

Well, let me stop rambling about H.P. Lovecraft...otherwise I'll have to re-title this post! An overview of one of the stories is forthcoming. I promise :).

                                                                        Credit: wikipedia
Bleak House is fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. I am on Chapter 16 so far. And I am loving it. The style is superb, and of course Charles Dickens's characters are classic (Does anyone know of a Mr. Boythorn in their midst?Anybody with a stentorian voice and big-hearted personality? Classic. He is one of my favorite characters at the moment besides Jo and Esther Summerton and the benignant Mr Jarndyce). I cannot wait to share with you the quotes I have found from the book. Or the most wonderful words and turns of expression. A POST IS A-COMING!

Forget Heart of Darkness. Unfortunately, I do not have enough time to pursue this little book. Maybe after Bleak House...we shall see what we shall see.

I am also endeavoring to write more. I have so many stories stuck in my head that I want to get them out as soon as possible. I am pleased to announce that yesterday, I completed my first short story ever (insert clapping, please...). It is a good 1,153 words. But...it is still a little rough at the moment. I am told that I should re-write it three times before I get any good out of it. We shall see... the irony of it all is that this story is not of my own invention. A Russian Jewish man told me a family story about his father and how the Germans killed thousands of people from the Minsk Ghetto in 1941.

                                                                      Credit: Wikipedia
 I was heartbroken by his tale, and so decided that I would create my own version. So it is supposed to be an emotional tale...but I am afraid that I wasn't very successful. I NEED TO REVISE THAT MANUSCRIPT! ARGGGGHHHH!!

Enough of rambling. Now that you know what is going on in this little neck of the woods, I shall end this session with a quote from Bleak House:

“Constancy in love is a good thing; but it means nothing, and is nothing, without constancy in every kind of effort.” 
― Charles Dickens, Bleak House

Godspeed,

Stardust (Doris Day)

I know that I have promised to post at least once a week...so here is this week's post.

There is a slight problem...I do not have time to write a full-fledged article at this moment. Nor do I have time to read Bleak House. But I am reading (when I can snatch a little bit of free time) The Complete Fiction of H.P Lovecraft. I think that this week I will try to work on a little something...maybe a biography of H.P Lovecraft? Or a review of one of his short stories...We'll see.

At the moment, though, I have this BEAUTIFUL song serenading in my head. 

The one and only Doris Day sings this song by Hoagy Carmichael. It is really breathtaking, I tell you. I know this has absolutely nothing to do with literature, but I really could not help it!

Here are the lyrics:

Intro:
And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we're apart
You wander down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now the stardust
Of yesterday
The music
Of the years
Gone by

Refrain:
Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely nights
Dreaming of a song.
The melody haunts my reverie.
And I am once again with you
When our love was new.
And each kiss, an inspiration.

But that was long ago.
And now my consolation 
Is in the stardust of a song.

Beside a garden wall where stars are bright
You are in my arms.
A nightingale sings its fairy tale
Of paradise where roses bloom.

Though I dream in vain
In my heart it always will remain
my stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain.

The memory of love's refrain

Hmmm...I am basking in this. I do have to learn it...

Yours Truly,

Kathleen

P.S. A little quote by H.P. Lovecraft:
Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end.

An Unexpected Beginning...

Dear Reader,

This is the beginning.

Well, at least that is clear!

But where does the beginning start?

Ahhhh...that is the question. I have absolutely no clue. I have never blogged before. So all this is sort of an unexpected adventure...and I suppose that I will have stumbling along the way because of my inexperience with this sort of thing. Better late then never, eh?

I have a feeling that I'd better introduce myself. And introduce the purpose of this blog. If it has a clear purpose (hmm...). Let me endeavor to enlighten you.

You will all know me from now on as Kathleen C. Wentworth. This will be my pen name. Now I hope that I will not change my mind (I am rather quick at doing that....). We shall see what we shall see.

I love literature. I am an avid reader, and a self-proclaimed Janeite (Hence the last name Wentworth). I also have read every single Sherlock Holmes, and so I might be considered a Sherlockian (does that even exist?). I have read Shakespeare, Blake and Keats. I could go on and on, but the main idea is that I have read a lot. And I have always wanted to share my thoughts and reflections about the books I have read.

So here I am. This place will hold my opinions and observations. I hope that I will be a better writer along the way, and that I will also broaden my perspective.

This is the beginning.

By the way, here is a painting that I love by Fragonard which pretty much describes me:
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/69/Fragonard%2C_The_Reader.jpg

Yours Sincerely,

Kathleen Wentworth

New Year Beginning

Happy New YEAR!!!!

I wanted very much to launch my blog on the first of the year, because

1.  Firstly, it would be easy to celebrate the bloganniversary.
2. Today is a good a day as any.

I cannot make any fancy resolutions for the New Year, because I am not sure whether I will have a lot of time devoted to this endeavor. I will probably have a lot of bumps along the way, and I know I have never operated a blog before. But guess what? I'll learn. And I know I will enjoy it very much. Especially since I will be doing what I love most; discussing books.

Alright. I cannot help it. I must have a resolution. It is too tempting:

At least once a week, I'll post a little something. Or a big something. Depending on the week.

Until later...

Miss K

P.S. This is my very first post!!!!!!!!!!!