Four adaptations of poems set to music: some tender, some bizarre, all personal homages to poems and their masters. Enjoy!
Composed by Israeli singer-songwriter Efrat Ben Zur.
I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us — don’t tell!
They’d banish — you know!
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one’s name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
“Sonnet 49″ by Pablo Neruda
The best loved love poet as sung by jazz artist Luciana Souza.
It’s today: all of yesterday dropped away
among the fingers of the light and the sleeping eyes.
Tomorrow will come on its green footsteps;
no one can stop the river of the dawn.
No one can stop the river of your hands,
your eyes and their sleepiness, my dearest.
You are the trembling of time, which passes
between the vertical light and the darkening sky.
One of the things I miss most about graduate school is the time to luxuriate in conversation with intelligent, engaged people about literature. Inevitably, someone had a different take on some element of the book that made me re-evaluate my own position or, conversely, helped me feel more confident about an interpretation.
In a recent interview on NPR’s Morning Edition, Oprah Winfrey told interviewer Lynn Neary that her reason for starting the original book club (that catapulted so many authors to fame and fortune) was for the exact same reasons as my own: wanting to talk to other people books.
Of course, there are probably hundreds of book clubs in every city and intimate gatherings are great. But if your life and relationships are anything like mine, trying to get friends to commit, show up at the same time, and actually have read your selection by a specific date can about as successful as herding cats.
That’s why I think that this year, for the first time, I am going to attempt to participate in a number of “Big Reads.” The Big Read is a project sponsored by the National Endowment of the Arts “designed to revitalize the role of literature in American culture and to encourage citizens to read for pleasure and enlightenment.”
Here is a brief description of how The Big Read works (learn more by clicking the link):
Through The Big Read, selected communities come together to read, discuss, and celebrate one of 34* selections from U.S. and world literature. In addition, The Big Read provides comprehensive information about the authors and their works in the Our Books section of The Big Read website.
Click here to enter your city, state, or zip code to find out what your community is reading, find a “real life” book club or online discussions.
Curious what titles up for discussion? Here are just a few of the selections, ranging from new works to classics:
For years, scholars have had only one image of the enigmatic Emily Dickinson to go by–that of the poet as a sixteen year-old, taken in 1847 (above). In that time, observers have been unable to help themselves from forming certain ideas of the poet, given this picture of a heavy-lidded, pale, and fragile looking adolescent, coupled with her well-known depressive nature. However, it seems that a new discovery may serve to change our views.
That is, if the photograph below is truly the second portrait of Emily Dickinson known to date.
The picture recently surfaced in Dickinson’s hometown of Amherst, Massachusetts, and has been on loan with Amherst College (the owner of the first Dickinson daguerrotype) while it undergoes tests to determine its credibility. And what scrutinizing tests they are; the photograph has thus far been evaluated by historians, members of the Emily Dickinson International Society, and even an opthalmologist. The last, Susan Pepin, concluded in her report,
The two women have the same eye opening size with the right eye opening being slightly larger than the left. The left lower lid in both women sits lower than the right lower lid… The right earlobe is higher on both women. The inferonasal corneal light reflex suggests corneal curvature similarity, allowing us to speculate about similar astigmatism in the two women. Both women have a central hair cowlick. Finally, both women have a more prominent left nasolabial fold… After a thorough examination of both of these women’s facial features as viewed from the 1847 and 1859 daguerreotypes, I believe strongly that these are the same people.
And she’s not the only one. Others at Amherst College, after comparing the fabric of the subject’s dress to swatches belonging to the Emily Dickinson Museum’s textile collection, feel strongly that she must be the famous poet.
Further forensic-style investigation was used to determine the second sitter in the photograph, Kate Scott Turner, which corroborates the conclusion that the image is of Dickinson. Turner, a recent widow at the time, met Dickinson in 1859. The two shared a strong relationship–which some have purported to have been more than mere friendship–until they suffered a parting of ways that deeply hurt Dickinson. In a letter to Kate circa 1860, the poet wrote, “Why did you enter, sister, since you must depart?” lamenting that loss of a close friend. Thankfully, multiple photographs of Turner exist in the world, as the ability to identify her as one of the subjects in the photo makes it more likely “that the other sitter who looks like Dickinson is Dickinson.”
But what exactly is the significance of finding a second portrait of Emily Dickinson, you may ask? It’s all in our perceptions of her. Reducing our image of her to a photograph of a waifish teenage girl, we’ve been short-sighted in our considerations of Dickinson as a grown woman. It seems impossible to believe that she could be so composed–strong, even–as we imagine her now, extending a protective arm to her far meeker looking friend.
If the daguerreotype is eventually accepted as Dickinson, it will change our idea of her, providing a view of the poet as a mature woman showing striking presence, strength, and serenity. She (whoever she is) seems to be the one in charge here, the one who decided that on a certain day in a certain year, she and her friend would have their likenesses preserved. In fact, even if this photograph is not of Dickinson and Turner, it has still been of use in forcing us to imagine Dickinson as an adult, past the age of the ethereal-looking 16-year-old we have known for so many years.
Tell us your views: is the image above, in your opinion, of Emily Dickinson? If so, does it change your perception of her? Leave us a comment below.