The Bibliophile's Adventurers Club

Exemplars of bookish delight

21 July, 2011
by amelia
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Happy Birthday to Ernest Hemingway

Today is Ernest Hemingway’s birthday. Just so happens, it’s also National Junk Food Day. Win-win! So grab yourself a big ol’ slice of cake, and savor the words of the man himself …

An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools.

There is no friend as loyal as a book.

A man’s got to take a lot of punishment to write a really funny book.

A serious writer is not to be confounded with a solemn writer. A serious writer may be a hawk or a buzzard or even a popinjay, but a solemn writer is always a bloody owl.

For a long time now I have tried simply to write the best I can. Sometimes I have good luck and write better than I can.

A man can be destroyed but not defeated.

About morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after.

All things truly wicked start from innocence. Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.

All good books have one thing in common–they are truer than if they had really happened.

All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn.

All my life I’ve looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.

As you get older it is harder to have heroes, but it is sort of necessary.

Courage is grace under pressure.

Cowardice… is almost always simply a lack of ability to suspend functioning of the imagination.

Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.

Ezra was right half the time, and when he was wrong, he was so wrong you were never in any doubt about it.

Fear of death increases in exact proportion to increase in wealth.

For a war to be just, three conditions are necessary: public authority, just cause, right motive.

You can wipe out your opponents. But if you do it unjustly you become eligible for being wiped out yourself.

Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to be hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damned hurt, use it-don’t cheat with it.

Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.

Hesitation increases in relation to risk in equal proportion to age.

I don’t like to write like God. It is only because you never do it, though, that the critics think you can’t do it.

I’ve tried to reduce profanity but I reduced so much profanity when writing the book that I’m afraid not much could come out. Perhaps we will have to consider it simply as a profane book and hope that the next book will be less profane or perhaps more sacred.

I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.

I like to listen. I have learned a great deal from listening carefully. Most people never listen.

I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?

I never had to choose a subject–my subject rather chose me.

I’m not going to get into the ring with Tolstoy.

If a writer knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one ninth of it being above water.

If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.

Madame, all stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that from you.

My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way.

Never go on trips with anyone you do not love.

Never mistake motion for action.

No weapon has ever settled a moral problem. It can impose a solution but it cannot guarantee it to be a just one.

That is what we are supposed to do when we are at our best–make it all up–but make it up so truly that later it will happen that way.

The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.

The first panacea for a mismanaged nation is inflation of the currency; the second is war. Both bring a temporary prosperity; both bring a permanent ruin. But both are the refuge of political and economic opportunists.

The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky enough to overhear or it may be the wreck of his whole damn life and one is as good as the other.

The man who has begun to live more seriously within begins to live more simply without.

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.

There are events which are so great that if a writer has participated in them his obligation is to write truly rather than assume the presumption of altering them with invention.

There is no lonelier man in death, except the suicide, than that man who has lived many years with a good wife and then outlived her. If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it.

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.

The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it.

19 July, 2011
by amelia
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Hemingway Days

Today kicks off the 2011 Hemingway Days in Key West. The week will be full of gatherings the likes of a Marlin Tournament, short story competition, Hemingway look-alike contest,  a most extraordinary running of the bulls, and more.

It’s sure to be some good times.

Of course, if you simply can’t make it this year, you can always pour yourself a Hemingway Daiquiri and lounge in the great outdoors while reading A Farewell to Arms.

15 July, 2011
by amelia
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Speakeasy for the literati

Books, in and of themselves, are full of intrigue. I suppose it only natural a seller of books might be the same. Michael Seidenberg is one such bookseller. Recently noted as part of Etsy’s Handmade Portraits series, he was interviewed by Andrew Watson. I could add my two cents, but I think he says it quite perfectly, in his own words …

Interested in more? You can find the Etsy blog post, here. And don’t miss out on the article, Wanna Buy a Book?, courtesy of Patricia Marx and The New Yorker.

14 July, 2011
by AmandaHammond
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Ralph Waldo Emerson: a bio

I would just like to say definitively that I do not love Emerson. I think him a bit snooty, slightly self-righteous, and a hard-hearted harbinger of callousness. I would like to turn his transparent eyeball onto him and say, “Stop speaking out of both sides of your mouth, you hoser!” That being said, he spawned Henry David Thoreau and Walt Whitman who give me all kinds of warm fuzzies so I also find I have no other recourse but to love Emerson, thus speaking out of both sides of my hoser mouth.

Life & Times – Otherwise known as “The Dry Stuff”:

1803: Ralph (Where’s) Waldo Emerson born on May 25th to Reverend William Emerson and his wife Ruth.

1811: Father dies of stomach cancer.

1817-21: Attends Harvard where he does not excel in the world of academia. (Maybe it’s because it was Harvard and Harvard is hard, unless you’re Rory Gilmore.)

1821: Becomes “a hopeless Schoolmaster” (his words, not mine).

1825: Enrolls in Harvard Divinity School to be a reverend but drops out because he was a slacker, I mean had eyeball issues. Goes back to teaching.

1826: Hired to preach anyway.

1827: Younger brother Edward becomes deranged due to TB and enters an asylum. He got better.

1829: Ordained into the Second Church of Boston; marries Ellen Tucker, a wealthy 18-year old who dies of TB 16 months later.

1832: Resigns from the church because he believes the Last Supper is a lot of rigmarole. Goes on a tour of Europe instead where he meets famous people such as William Wordsworth and Thomas Carlyle.

1833: Preaches occasionally but more importantly, begins to lecture.

1834: Settles in Concord, MA where he lives on the inheritance he had to fight his first wife’s family for providing him the opportunity to continue lecturing and writing. Brother Edward dies.

1835: Marries Lydia Jackson. They have four children together. This union lasts until his death.

1836: Anonymously publishes Nature. Younger brother Charles dies.

1837: “The American Scholar” lecture and essay.

1838: “The Divinity School” lecture and essay, the result of which he pisses off a lot of people, especially HDS.

1840: Helps found transcendentalist magazine The Dial.

1841: Essays published.

1842: First son Waldo dies of scarlet fever.

1844: Publication of The Dial ceases. Begins lecturing on abolitionism but got on that bandwagon a little late so lesser known for his abolition essays. Essays: Second Series published.

1845: Provides the land Thoreau would live on and write about in Walden.

1847: Poems published.

1847-48: Goes on a lecture tour in England. Meets Charles Dickens and Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

1849: Representative Men published.

1850: Margaret Fuller dies.

1852: Helps edit a (not entirely accurate) biography about Margaret Fuller which became a best-seller.

1855: Receives Leaves of Grass from Walt Whitman which he thinks rocks and says as much in a five page letter to him, but when Whitman makes the letter public Emerson decides he doesn’t like him very much anymore.

1860: Conduct of Life and May-Day and Other Poems published.

1862: BFF Thoreau dies and he delivers eulogy.

1864: Nathanial Hawthorne dies and he serves as pallbearer.

1866: Harvard forgives and offers him an honorary degree.

1867: Health starts declining.

1871-72: Memory problems begin.

1872: His house burns down. It’s rebuilt with funds his friends collected on his behalf.

1879: Ceases lecturing.

1882: Dies April 27th.

The Goods –The Innuendo & Intrigue:

Emerson makes me sad. And tired. In fact, he makes me so tired that any time I’ve read one of his essays, I have curled up in a blanket on the couch and taken a nice, long nap. That being said, let’s get down to the business of why he makes me sad and tired, which is surely better than being made to feel sick and tired.

Emerson’s entire life is marked by death. In brief: three siblings and his father by the time he was eight, and as an adult, his first wife Ellen after just 16 months of marriage, two more of his brothers, young friends and fellow writers Henry David Thoreau, Nathanial Hawthorne, and Margaret Fuller, his first son Waldo, and I’m sure more. Many of the deaths were due to tuberculosis or complications of tuberculosis which Emerson himself suffered from throughout his life.

Emerson did not come from a wealthy family although he had an eccentric aunt, Mary Moody Emerson (yes, that’s her real name and it’s AWESOME!), who helped the family after the death of his father. Emerson himself had a comfortable existence due to the inheritance he received upon the death of his first wife. His books were only moderately successful. He was actually better known for his lectures which he gave throughout Europe and New England and provided him a very good living. Apparently, he was quite the captivating speaker.

Emerson hit the scene with Nature which essentially became the Transcendental Club’s manifesto and touched on themes he would come back to again and again. It’s basic premise is that we don’t have to accept the doctrines of those who came before us, but rather we can think and determine for ourselves our own opinions, and that all the answers we’re looking for can be found in nature. There is a universal spirituality present in everything, and if we check our egos at the door we too can experience it. He explains that by losing your individual self, you can become one with nature and simply experience it with your fantabulous transparent eyeball, not available in stores.

In “The American Scholar,” he calls for men to rise up with their own ideas as opposed to depending on the authorities of the past. He says we can do this by knowing nature, that to know nature is to know thyself, so go outside and have yourself a big ol’ cup of nature!

But don’t read about it, you dolt. Reading about nature is not the same thing. Books are only partial truths based on the society’s standards in which they were written so you best read and/or write your own society’s standards to perpetuate the partial truths. Book worms! Book worms are the worst scum of the earth because they stop thinking entirely (in which case, he and I have a mutual dislike I can rest comfortable in). The only kind of reading that should be done is that of science and history and the like so stop it with your chick lit, your Harry Potter, and your mystery novels already, you losers. Read yourself some science books about nature, go out and experience yourself some nature, and you’ll be closer to your divine self because the soul and nature parallel one another, it’s just one big circle, people. A parallel circle. Think about it.

But! If you suffer some creative blockage (or a horrible intestinal illness), it’s okay to go ahead and read yourself some books. I mean come on! Reading is pleasurable and the ancient authors are like the people of today so books actually defeat time. They take time down. They take time downtown and beat the royal crappola out of it; leaving it clutching its wounds and gasping for air and in that case, you can never underestimate books. They kick time’s ass, and the great thinkers of the world have been fed by books, but remember, it takes an exceptional being to remain critical while reading them. Evil books, full of trickery and hocus-pocus.

With the “Divinity School Address,” Emerson set the Christians afire. Delivered to a class of graduating ministers and teachers at the Harvard Divinity School, one can understand why when he lets them know Biblical miracles are a bunch of rubbish and that while Jesus was certainly a nice guy, he was no God. Emerson was easily labeled an atheist although in reality he was far from it. In fact he had some excellent points, including that there is no middle man to God and that as opposed to being virtuous, we should act it. Regardless, it took HDS 30 long years to let go of that blow.

Although there are many other Emersonian things to cover, I’m going to end with the “Self Reliance” essay in which he repeatedly stresses the importance of the individual. No matter who you are, be that person and trust in that person. A society that demands conformity is stupid so don’t be like that. If you’re a regular Dr. Evil, go ahead and be Dr. Evil because it is more important to be who you are as opposed to conforming to the standards imposed by dumb society. If you give in to your true nature and act from the spontaneous bits found there, you can experience true intuition, otherwise you’re simply acting within the confines of society.

Also, don’t give money to charity; give it directly to the individual. If you’re providing acts of charity from guilt or society’s expectations, it’s not coming from your true self but rather a part of you which wants recognition from your charitable acts.

Emerson is best known for giving birth to the American Renaissance in literature. Prior to him, we low brow Americans revered the great European super powers as opposed to creating our own art and literature. But more than that, he spurred on others to write poetry and prose that shapes the way we think and feel. Henry David Thoreau went to the woods to find nature, aka God. Women like Margaret Fuller were given a voice and a venue to make that voice heard with their own essays. Walt Whitman lifted his pen and changed the face of poetry. Without Emerson, American literature would not be what it is today, so let’s all thank him and his transparent eyeball.

The Groundwork– Wherein you make up your own mind:

Harvard Square Library: The Living Legacy of Ralph Waldo Emerson

Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sermons of Ralph Waldo Emerson