(no subject)
This morning I dreamed that I had to protect my cows from the lions that were chasing them.
Yes. I had cows. A whole herd of them, actually. And I was Anne Shirley in the dream. The lions--why were there lions?--came out of nowhere (apparently escaped from a travelling circus, like in Jane of Lantern Hill) and I had to get my cows through the fence to save them.
Like a wooden rail fence would stop a lion.
I could ride really fast, though. I don't remember Anne ever riding a horse, but in my dream, I could ride like whoa.
I have no idea why lions keep showing up in my dreams (this is the second one to feature lions recently), since I never think about them much at all. Wolves would make sense, as wolves reside, rather inexplicably, in the back of my mind, something of a constant, sublime presence. I love wolves, they're wonderful, but they inspire terror. Hence, sublime. But lions? I have no use for lions. I like tigers rather a lot. Tigers would make more sense.
Hang on. I think there were tigers. White tigers. In a commercial-like dream. (Yes, sometimes I dream in commercials. I also dream in closed-captioning from time to time. And only rarely am I a participant and not an observer in my dreams. So.)
I think I'm dreaming of L. M. Montgomery characters because I'm working on Letitia Landon now, and I keep thinking of how much Montgomery's characters' youthful literary productions are reminiscent of Landon. Remember Emily Starr's first attempt at an epic poem? Titled "The Child of the Sea"? Landon's poetry's a lot like that. Or like the stories produced in The Story Club. Which is not to say that her work is without merit, but it is almost stifling in its rarefied depictions of noble men and women who suffer for love.
Am reading The Book of Lost Books right now, and it's awesome. If you're interested in the missing works of literature--like Aeschylus's complete works, for example--or those that were never finished (The Canterbury Tales), this is a fabulous book. It's not academic, though the guy knows his stuff. It's sort of a lay history of lost works across the "Western Canon" (though he does include Chinese, Persian, Arabian, and Indian works) from Anonymous through the Greeks and beyond.
Yes. I had cows. A whole herd of them, actually. And I was Anne Shirley in the dream. The lions--why were there lions?--came out of nowhere (apparently escaped from a travelling circus, like in Jane of Lantern Hill) and I had to get my cows through the fence to save them.
Like a wooden rail fence would stop a lion.
I could ride really fast, though. I don't remember Anne ever riding a horse, but in my dream, I could ride like whoa.
I have no idea why lions keep showing up in my dreams (this is the second one to feature lions recently), since I never think about them much at all. Wolves would make sense, as wolves reside, rather inexplicably, in the back of my mind, something of a constant, sublime presence. I love wolves, they're wonderful, but they inspire terror. Hence, sublime. But lions? I have no use for lions. I like tigers rather a lot. Tigers would make more sense.
Hang on. I think there were tigers. White tigers. In a commercial-like dream. (Yes, sometimes I dream in commercials. I also dream in closed-captioning from time to time. And only rarely am I a participant and not an observer in my dreams. So.)
I think I'm dreaming of L. M. Montgomery characters because I'm working on Letitia Landon now, and I keep thinking of how much Montgomery's characters' youthful literary productions are reminiscent of Landon. Remember Emily Starr's first attempt at an epic poem? Titled "The Child of the Sea"? Landon's poetry's a lot like that. Or like the stories produced in The Story Club. Which is not to say that her work is without merit, but it is almost stifling in its rarefied depictions of noble men and women who suffer for love.
Am reading The Book of Lost Books right now, and it's awesome. If you're interested in the missing works of literature--like Aeschylus's complete works, for example--or those that were never finished (The Canterbury Tales), this is a fabulous book. It's not academic, though the guy knows his stuff. It's sort of a lay history of lost works across the "Western Canon" (though he does include Chinese, Persian, Arabian, and Indian works) from Anonymous through the Greeks and beyond.