Falling faintly through the universe

 The Old Church Park in Helsinki, Finland. 1 January 2006. By Lumijaguaari. CC license.

One of my favorite courses at the University of Virginia was with Karen Chase. As all English professors should, she asked us to memorize one of her favorite lines of literature to mark the start of each snowfall. It's just the last line below but here's the whole paragraph in honor of our first snowfall this year:

"A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."

From "The Dead," by James Joyce

"The Great Gatsby" as video game

via technabob

It's easy! It's vintage-y old school! It's got a fake Japanese back story! It's canonical literature!

I don't need another way to procrastinate, but this really random Nintendo game based on F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby" is really trying to break my spirit...

Play at your own risk: http://greatgatsbygame.com/.

via laughing squid

Thursday, an English professor's office, and Etsy

It's true we've done a home office in our Etsy series, but as a real live English "professor" (without the actual title of professor, since I'm neither tenured nor on my way to being tenured), I thought it would be nice to design my ideal literature scholar's office, a place where students would take me seriously and where I'd inspire them with my erudition. Or somethin'.

First, of course, you need the tweed:

image courtesy of Studio1950

Which, yes, of course, a professor could wear to look sharp and...professor-y. But she could also simply hang it on a lovely coat rack:

image courtesy of halfpintsalvage

And that tweedy professor could also hang a nicely broken-in leather satchel on her lovely coat rack. In fact, I'd argue that one is not really an English professor without a leather satchel:

image courtesy of caseyrhodes

For the walls, some literary art:

"Hamlet"

image courtesy of sophieblackall

"Miss Austen"

image courtesy of kirby


"Bookshelf 36"
image courtesy of janemount

For the door, you'll need a place for students to leave messages like, "Professor Mae, I tried to turn in my paper, but you weren't here and my computer is broken so I can't email it, and I have vacation plans that I can't change (doctor's orders), so I can't turn in my paper until next week." For such messages, you might hang a very cool chalkboard:

image courtesy of halfpintsalvage

A good English professor is organized. Wait. Scratch that. Good English professors are actually very rarely organized, but I'm sure we'd LIKE to be organized. And to help with that effort are the following:

A pretty pencil cup to keep grading pens handy (you'll need many, many pens if you're as strict as I am):

image courtesy of cozycottagecreations

A vintage desk organizer so important things like your gradebook and your tea bags don't go missing on the vast wilderness of your desk:

image courtesy of hannabellamemories

Little notebooks to keep track of important tasks. The key is, you have to remember to open the notebook later and actually READ the reminders. That's the hard part:

image courtesy of theblackapple

A desk clock to keep you on time for classes. You need one that ticks. It's nice to hear a soft, rhythmic ticking while you sit and read/ruminate in your office:

image courtesy of ModishVintage

Having a place to sit is nice, too. Especially if it's a very cool-looking place to sit, like a tufted
blue chair:

image courtesy of fabulousmess

For your (large amounts of) tea and coffee, a literary mug. Poe is good because that will make students a little bit afraid of you:

image courtesy of PoesProse

If they're not too scared of you, students might ask to borrow books, in which case you'll need a bookplate to remind them the books are yours. S0 return them or else:

image courtesy of terbearco

Now all that's missing is the pipe. And perhaps a musty smell.

toy city vs. miniature country

This is a passage from Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" that has always resonated with me - the desire to live in both the country and the city at the same time.

Esther Greenwood talking to her sometime boyfriend Buddy Willard:

"Remember how you asked me where I like to live best, the country or the city?"
"And you said..."
"And I said I wanted to live in the country and in the city both?"
Buddy nodded.
"And you," I continued with a sudden force, "laughed and said I had the perfect setup of a true neurotic and that that question came from some questionnaire you'd had in psychology class that week?"
Buddy's smile dimmed.
"Well, you were right. I am neurotic. I could never settle down in either the country or the city."

How about you? Are you more of a city person:

image by isayx3

image by mausheld

image by outdoorphoto

Or do you prefer the country?

image by karenw82

image by doobrady

image by tch1337

Clearly, the only thing I do know is that I want to live in a miniature world!

And, if you don't know already, there is an online application that makes tilt shifting so easy to do. Check out tiltshiftmaker.com to manipulate your own pictures and make your toy towns.

The painter of New England children

"Francis O. Watts with Bird," 1805

(image via nytimes)

Lorelei's great summer reading list for kids got me thinking about my own summer reading plans. Reading for pleasure should be something I am more intentional about and so why not start during these sweltering months when nothing feels as good as a library book in your lap and an iced tea in your hand? I went through a biography binge not too long ago focusing on artists like Diane Arbus and Joseph Cornell so I've decided to start my warm weather reading with another artist's biography: A Deaf Artist in Early America: The Worlds of John Brewster Jr. by Harlan L. Lane.

John Brewster, Jr. (1766-1854) was a deaf New England painter of portraits. He did portraits of his own family members, other adults and also painted people in pairs, but I like his solitary children. They look serene, yet world-weary. Maybe it's in the seriousness of their eyes or a type of tension in their bodies in having to hold up a rose, a red book, a piece of fruit, a bird by a string.

I'm looking forward to reading this biography and, hey, maybe this will lead to a whole summer of reading without a pencil in my hand, twitching to underline.

"Mary Jane Nowell," 1810-1850

(image via Antiques and the Arts Online)

brother-and-sister portraits via nytimes.com

"One Shoe Off," 1810-1850
(image via nytimes)

"Unidentified Boy with Book," 1810

(image via The Florence Griswold Museum)

The Rowdy Girls

Why do you think our culture has such a fixation on the moneyed and eccentric, but slightly off older woman desperate for love lost or for someone to just pay attention?

Little Edie's story has now been remade into the HBO film "Grey Gardens," a musical adaptation (which I loved and you can see a snippet here), some pretty gorgeous coffee table books, and, of course, there's the brilliant original documentary. Never mind the influence on fashion and the vast contribution of lines to quote. But Edie is one in a long line of these rowdy girls that mesmerize us with their musty mansions, fierce honesty, and haunting presence.

("Little Edie Art Mask" by Bruce Lennon)

The original:
Miss Havisham from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

(image via Blackfriars Theatre)

Her introduction in Great Expectations:

"She was dressed in rich materials — satins, and lace, and silks — all of white. Her shoes were white. And she had a long white veil dependent from her hair, and she had bridal flowers in her hair, but her hair was white. Some bright jewels sparkled on her neck and on her hands, and some other jewels lay sparkling on the table. Dresses, less splendid than the dress she wore, and half-packed trunks were scattered about. She had not quite finished dressing, for she had but one shoe on — the other was on the table near her hand — her veil was half arranged, her watch and chain were not put on, and some lace for her bosom lay with those trinkets and with her handkerchief, and gloves, and some flowers, and a prayer-book, all confusedly heaped about the looking-glass.

It was not in the first moments that I saw all these things, though I saw more of them in the first moments than might be supposed. But, I saw that everything within my view which ought to be white, had been white long ago, and had lost its luster, and was faded and yellow. I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes. I saw that the dress had been put upon the rounded figure of a young woman, and that the figure upon which it now hung loose, had shrunk to skin and bone. Once, I had been taken to see some ghastly wax-work at the Fair, representing I know not what impossible personage lying in state. Once, I had been taken to one of our old marsh churches to see a skeleton in the ashes of a rich dress, that had been dug out of a vault under the church pavement. Now wax-work and skeleton seemed to have dark eyes that moved and looked at me. I should have cried out, if I could."

Gloria Swanson as Norma Desmond in "Sunset Blvd." (1950)

(image via Daveland Art Gallery)

Bette Davis as Baby Jane Hudson and Joan Crawford as Blanche Hudson in "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" (1962)

Anne Bancroft as Ms. Dinsmoor in a modern take on "Great Expectations" (1998)

(Don't you love how her pose is similar to the one in "Sunset Blvd"?)