And then there are books. These are strange objects filled with paper and markings that are supposedly extinct. A whole generation or two have grown up using computers, rarely turning a page: the prognosis for books and libraries is grim (in some people's minds...not mine).
Having actually been a professional Systems Analyst (however mediocre) in a previous life..and a student of information science, I am fully cognizant of the grim fact that Cyberspace is frail as all get out and typing on a computer is, well...like writing on water.
Oh...the Rock Pool: I'll discuss it at the end!
I acquire new authors often through friends: Allen Bush suggested this book to Waterfront Botanical Gardens in Louisville as a gift after my talk as a meaningful gesture (in addition to their generous honorarium and truly first class treatment). "Jamie" (James) Burghardt took Allen's suggestion to heart--an example of old time thoughtfulness that persists perhaps a little more in the South than other parts of America. The result has been a new enthusiasm for me! I've always enjoyed Wendell Berry--and now Harlan Hubbard has become a new literary friend...
There are serial killers and there are serial readers: when I find a new author I'm smitten with I seek out more of his (her or their) work [to be politically correct]. The first of Hubbard's own books I got was Payne Hollow--in a clean, hard bound original edition with dust jacket--which is to say perfect. I read this on the plane to Mexico and savored it for several days on the beach: there could not have been a better book to read at the time--Harlan's prose is crisp and resonant. I put this book alongside Muir, Walden and Bob Pyle as a classic of American environmental prose. If I were you I'd scarf one up right away before the old editions disappear from Abebooks, Amazon etc: it's a perfect blend of philosophy and Americana.
I have most of Hubbard's other books lined up to read this winter: Allen definitely sussed my wavelength and tastes (which perhaps reflect a bit of his own: such are the wellsprings of friendship after all). Allen even owns a painting (or more?) by Harlan which he neglected to show me despite my staying with him for four days! Reading his book you come to realize how important painting was to Harlan, and of course I had to see what his paintings were like (of course I could have sampled them on Google) but decided to buy the Caddell's book for a ridiculously cheap price, and didn't regret it. Everyone thinks they're experts in Politics, Education, Art and now (with COVID) Medicine (tell me about it)...I have fallen for Hubbard's art [I especially love his woodprints] as I have his muscular prose and clear mind. Now if I could only hear him and Anna play Schubert or Mozart as they did every afternoon: what a life!
I had read Weber's OTHER compendium of Cockerell's writings 30 or more years ago--which made a strong impression on me then. I'm not sure how I stumbled on this volume, but I realized it was a pastiche of somewhat scholarly essays written over 100 years ago by and large--and would be a perfect bedside book (i.e. would put me to sleep quickly). WRONG! Some of the essays are somewhat less brilliant than others, but most are just my style and extremely cogent to various themes that run through my life (a good subject for ANOTHER blog post)...I plowed right through this one and recommend it highly...Why? T.D.A. (Theodore) Cockerell is the greatest biologist Colorado ever had (except for T. Paul Maslin who discovered parthenogenesis in vertebrates. Paul was my best friend in my twenties--and undoubtedly knew Theodore--yet a whole other layer of meaning for me). Cockerell epitomizes everything I admire in people: panache, depth of character, devotion to others, profound knowledge, persistence, achievement, social awareness and liberal outlook politically and generally. It was worth reading the entire book for me to read the section he devoted to Russel Wallace (who acknowledged a debt to Theodore): he describes the great biologists passion for rock gardening in his old age! The book effectively affirmed a personal link for me (through Paul, Theodore) to the man who really first discerned evolution clearly, and graciously gave Darwin the spotlight Hallelujah! Moreover Theodore and his wife taught at my high school and University...And he was a gardener himself! Bingo! I'd better re-read his Wet Mountain book again come to think of it--it'll be on my bed stand tonight!
Thus a dusty tome about a late Victorian naturalist enters my personal literary D.N.A.
A piece of fluff, really, But very readable. I read anything about Greece I can: my ancestral homeland where another life of mine plays out. If you're not a confirmed Hellenophile don't bother with this book.
All the books above are really just a fraction of the books I've dipped into, read, sought out and otherwise gobbled up in the past month. The Plants of Armenia has a blurb by me on the back cover. I helped the author and publisher hook up and now I'm writing a review of it for a magazine--and helping members of chapters of the North American Rock Garden Society obtain it a discount. It's phenomenal...get it! My life is tethered with books like Gulliver in Lilliput.
And I just completed a foreword to yet another wonderful book I'm not even going to tell you about: I'll tell you all about it when it's published however--pretty soon!
Oh yes: the Black Pool: Cyril Connolly was a major literary critic of the early and mid 20th century: he was friends with a vast throng of literati I have studied and followed throughout my life like George Orwell, Huxley, Auden--most of the great figures of English English literature of the 20th Century. One of his wives was close friends with Dwight Ripley--another of my literary lions I've been trying to tame for decades. Pursuing her story was the reason I read this book. It gets a C+ as literature--but I enjoyed it for a whole anthology of reasons...I have Connolly's biography by my bedstand next and another of his novels on my short list: you see--there is a sort of system here...convoluted--but then so are our lives...
There you have it. Such as it is. I am surprised how few people I know are readers: most of my friends watch television, Netflicks and Hulu and are deeply conversant in all sorts of media that are utterly foreign to me: my love of books strikes them the way their addictions strike me. As odd.
I suspect that if you've made it this far--you may be one of my bookish brothers and sisters--Thank you!
My life in books is as important to me as my life in plants. Or my life with people (family, friends, co-workers). Or cyberspace where we're interacting right now...How many lives do you possess?
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Me and books...
You are not alone in your love of books. My family's Christmas gift's were almost completely books. Nothing better than a laid back Boxing Day with a brand new book. Best of the holidays.
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