Editions
Finished re-reading In Pursuit of Spring. Commissioned to write a travelogue, in March 1913 Edward Thomas sets off to cycle from London to the Quantocks, dodging the rain, through a landscape of lanes lined with elms, and fields full of pewits; stopping here and there to eavesdrop on the conversations of the locals, read the inscriptions on the tombs in country churchyards.
Written before Thomas found his voice as a poet, yet still the poet creeps in here and there.
Under elms near Semington the threshing-machine boomed; its unchanging note mingled with a hiss at the addition of each sheaf. Otherwise the earth was the rooks', heaven was the larks', and I rode easily on along the good level road somewhere between the two.
Motion was extraordinarily easy that afternoon, and I had no doubts that I did well to bicycle instead of walking. It was as easy as riding in a cart, and more satisfying to a restless man. At the same time I was a great deal nearer to being a disembodied spirit that I can often be. I was not at all tired, so far as I knew. No people or thoughts embarrassed me. I fed through the senses directly, but very temperately, through the eyes chiefly, and was happier than is explicable or reasonable.
Edward Thomas rates his own travel books as mere "hack-work", putting this judgement into the mouth of The Other Man, a character with an obsession with weather vanes whom he keeps meeting by chance on the road. But I love the descriptions of a landscape that largely no longer exists - the elms and the lapwings are gone now, as are most of the pubs he stayed in probably, and the temperance hostels certainly.
I've been trying to acquire some of Edward Thomas's other travel books, but secondhand hardback editions seem to go for silly prices, and I hate the shiny newness of print-on-demand editions - the paper is too pristine. And whereas I'm happy to read the latest novel by my favourite author as an e-book, I find there are some books where the book itself as object seems physically important.
I don't think it's book snobbery... I'm not looking for first editions, or as-new copies with dust jackets. I don't mind if the spine is damaged. I don't care if someone has underlined passages with a pencil. I just like reading old books in editions that have some age. It's part of the pleasure of reading.
***
Having said that, I am now reading a print-on-demand copy - a superior British Library print-on-demand edition, meticulously scanned - of Annals of a Fishing Village by A Son of the Marshes [Denham Jordan], first published in 1891. Sketches of daily life in the north Kent marshes in the 19th century.
Winkle Joe was another of his friends; a pale-faced boy, who shuffled along, generally carrying his "winkle" basket, with poor ragged clothing, which hardly seemed to keep his skin and bones together when he reached the bare "winkle hards" three miles away, over which the bitter cutting east winds blew, sending the curlews wailing and shrieking over the weed-strewn slub...
If I wished to punish my worst enemy, I would send him to pick a gallon of winkles off the ooze when a nor'-easter was blowing full force up the creek. I once tried to pick a pint myself when out shooting, and I never repeated the job. Use is, however, second nature - or said to be; and poor Joe's mother being a widow, and he her only child, he worked at it bravely...
***
I'm still battling on with daily Korean Duolingo practice, but as a course it is not beginner friendly, throwing quite complex sentences at you from the start. I think it's only the fact that I recognise a few words from watching Korean dramas that keeps me going.
길의 그편에 나무들이 있습니다
street + 'of the' particle, that side + 'on' particle, trees + subject particle, there are
There are trees on that side of the street.
***
Television. Currently watching Deutschland 83 on the Channel 4 website, a German Cold War spy drama, playing out against a background of Pershing missiles and peace protests, and Ronald Reagan's sabre-rattling speeches, with a soundtrack of iconic eighties music. Took me a few episodes, but now I am completely hooked.
Written before Thomas found his voice as a poet, yet still the poet creeps in here and there.
Under elms near Semington the threshing-machine boomed; its unchanging note mingled with a hiss at the addition of each sheaf. Otherwise the earth was the rooks', heaven was the larks', and I rode easily on along the good level road somewhere between the two.
Motion was extraordinarily easy that afternoon, and I had no doubts that I did well to bicycle instead of walking. It was as easy as riding in a cart, and more satisfying to a restless man. At the same time I was a great deal nearer to being a disembodied spirit that I can often be. I was not at all tired, so far as I knew. No people or thoughts embarrassed me. I fed through the senses directly, but very temperately, through the eyes chiefly, and was happier than is explicable or reasonable.
Edward Thomas rates his own travel books as mere "hack-work", putting this judgement into the mouth of The Other Man, a character with an obsession with weather vanes whom he keeps meeting by chance on the road. But I love the descriptions of a landscape that largely no longer exists - the elms and the lapwings are gone now, as are most of the pubs he stayed in probably, and the temperance hostels certainly.
I've been trying to acquire some of Edward Thomas's other travel books, but secondhand hardback editions seem to go for silly prices, and I hate the shiny newness of print-on-demand editions - the paper is too pristine. And whereas I'm happy to read the latest novel by my favourite author as an e-book, I find there are some books where the book itself as object seems physically important.
I don't think it's book snobbery... I'm not looking for first editions, or as-new copies with dust jackets. I don't mind if the spine is damaged. I don't care if someone has underlined passages with a pencil. I just like reading old books in editions that have some age. It's part of the pleasure of reading.
***
Having said that, I am now reading a print-on-demand copy - a superior British Library print-on-demand edition, meticulously scanned - of Annals of a Fishing Village by A Son of the Marshes [Denham Jordan], first published in 1891. Sketches of daily life in the north Kent marshes in the 19th century.
Winkle Joe was another of his friends; a pale-faced boy, who shuffled along, generally carrying his "winkle" basket, with poor ragged clothing, which hardly seemed to keep his skin and bones together when he reached the bare "winkle hards" three miles away, over which the bitter cutting east winds blew, sending the curlews wailing and shrieking over the weed-strewn slub...
If I wished to punish my worst enemy, I would send him to pick a gallon of winkles off the ooze when a nor'-easter was blowing full force up the creek. I once tried to pick a pint myself when out shooting, and I never repeated the job. Use is, however, second nature - or said to be; and poor Joe's mother being a widow, and he her only child, he worked at it bravely...
***
I'm still battling on with daily Korean Duolingo practice, but as a course it is not beginner friendly, throwing quite complex sentences at you from the start. I think it's only the fact that I recognise a few words from watching Korean dramas that keeps me going.
길의 그편에 나무들이 있습니다
street + 'of the' particle, that side + 'on' particle, trees + subject particle, there are
There are trees on that side of the street.
***
Television. Currently watching Deutschland 83 on the Channel 4 website, a German Cold War spy drama, playing out against a background of Pershing missiles and peace protests, and Ronald Reagan's sabre-rattling speeches, with a soundtrack of iconic eighties music. Took me a few episodes, but now I am completely hooked.