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Tag Archives: L.M. Montgomery
“I thought girls in their teens might like to read [Anne of Green Gables], that was the only audience I hoped to reach.” — L.M. Montgomery
As with Sylvia Plath, my relationship with Lucy Maud Montgomery has spanned the entirety of my life. It graduated from a childhood voracious yearning to read all the books immediately to a longer period when I “grew out of them”, … Continue reading
Posted in Books, On This Day, writers
Tagged Anne of Green Gables, Canada, Emily of New Moon, fiction, L.M. Montgomery, The Blue Castle
5 Comments
“[I wish] to trace the gradual action of ordinary causes rather than exceptional.” — George Eliot
“What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory?” — Emily Dickinson I came to George Eliot late. As in, during the lifespan of this blog. I read Middlemarch (more like devoured it) in 2005, and wrote … Continue reading
Posted in Books, On This Day, writers
Tagged A.S. Byatt, Christopher Hitchens, Emily Dickinson, fiction, George Eliot, Jeanette Winterson, Joan Acocella, L.M. Montgomery, W.H. Auden
2 Comments
“I was never afraid of failure, for I would sooner fail than not to be among the greatest.” –John Keats
I was just beautifying him, don’t you know. A thing of beauty, don’t you know. Yeats says, or I mean, Keats says. – James Joyce, Ulysses Born in 1795 on this day, John Keats was orphaned at fifteen. Because his … Continue reading
Posted in Books, James Joyce, On This Day, writers
Tagged A.S. Byatt, Anne Spencer, Camille Paglia, Countee Cullen, Dorothy Parker, Elizabeth Bishop, England, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Harold Bloom, John Keats, Katherine Mansfield, L.M. Montgomery, Lord Byron, Louis MacNeice, Matthew Arnold, Michael Schmidt, Oscar Wilde, Percy Bysshe Shelley, poetry, Robert Burns, Robert Graves, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Seamus Heaney, Six Centuries of Great Poetry, T.S. Eliot, Ulysses, W.B. Yeats, William Carlos Williams, William Faulkner
19 Comments
“Tennyson’s rank is too well fixed and we love him too much.” — Oscar Wilde
He was not only a minor Virgil, he is also with Virgil as Dante saw him, a Virgil among the Shades, the saddest of all English poets. – T.S. Eliot It’s Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s birthday, born on August 6, 1809. … Continue reading
Posted in Books, James Joyce, On This Day, writers
Tagged A.S. Byatt, Camille Paglia, Dorothy Parker, Ellen Terry, England, Ezra Pound, George Orwell, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Harold Bloom, Ireland, Jeanette Winterson, L.M. Montgomery, Lord Tennyson, Matthew Arnold, Michael Schmidt, Oscar Wilde, Philip Larkin, poetry, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Ralph Waldo Emerson, T.S. Eliot, Thomas Hardy, W.H. Auden
11 Comments
Happy Birthday, Emily Brontë: “a solitude-loving raven, no gentle dove”
“My sister Emily loved the moors. Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the blackest of the heath for her; — out of a sullen hollow in a livid hill-side, her mind could make an Eden. She found in the … Continue reading
“There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad.” — Charlotte Brontë
“It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it.” — Charlotte Brontë Charlotte Brontë was born on this day, in 1816. … Continue reading
Posted in Books, On This Day, writers
Tagged Camille Paglia, Charlotte Bronte, Emily Bronte, fiction, Jane Eyre, Jeanette Winterson, L.M. Montgomery, Michael Schmidt, Villette
5 Comments
“Some syllables are swords.” — Metaphysical poet Henry Vaughan
”I’ve always been much influenced by the 17th-century metaphysical poets like Donne, and especially Henry Vaughan.” — Philip K. Dick It’s Henry Vaughan’s birthday today. I was just thinking the other day about how I encountered certain famous writers in … Continue reading
March 2025 Snapshots
Mitchell’s change purse Our new normal. The water jug is the third in our polyamorous relationship. Frankie likes it to be there so he can push back against it, or wrap himself around it. If the water jug isn’t there, … Continue reading
Posted in Personal
Tagged Dubravka Ugrešić, family, friends, John Keats, L.M. Montgomery, snapshots
9 Comments