Good Reads: Lit by Mary Karr

So, I've been marginally more preoccupied since classes began on Monday, but I haven't forgotten my love for good literature.  Which is why I'm about to begin a new recurring theme here at Rare View Me.  I am an avid reader and occasionally I stumble across a book that I consider to be a gem.  So, I'll tell you about it here.

The first book is Lit, by Mary Karr.  Some of you may recognize the name.  Liar's Club, her first memoir, is number 4 on Entertainment Weekly's Top 100 books of the last 25 years.  Interestingly enough, I remember wanting to read that book when it came out, but couldn't remember who wrote it.  Fast forward over 15 years later, and I've been introduced to Mary Karr.

(photo via Mrs. Blandings)

Writers will love the poetic prose that Karr often writes in, defining some of her life's most trying moments with words that seem to perfectly fit.  Born poor in Texas, to tragic parents, this is the story of her finally escaping, only to fall into the depths of alcoholism.  I have only read about a fourth of this latest memoir, but I am already rooted in the story and the author.  I feel connected to her in a way that is rare to create, simply through page.  

I decided not to spoil any of this great book for you, by including a lengthy excerpt here.  I will offer up this opening line, which sets the mind in motion for a remarkable journey.

Anyway I tell this story is a lie, so I ask you to disconnect the device in your head that repeats at intervals how ancient and addled I am.

I have also included one of Karr's poems, as she is a highly acclaimed poet and essayist, considering herself a poet, first and foremost.

Who the Meek Are Not

           Not the bristle-bearded Igors bent
under burlap sacks, not peasants knee-deep
           in the rice paddy muck,
nor the serfs whose quarter-moon sickles
           make the wheat fall in waves
they don't get to eat. My friend the Franciscan
           nun says we misread
that word meek in the Bible verse that blesses them.
           To understand the meek
(she says) picture a great stallion at full gallop
           in a meadow, who —
at his master's voice — seizes up to a stunned
           but instant halt.
So with the strain of holding that great power
           in check, the muscles
along the arched neck keep eddying,
           and only the velvet ears
prick forward, awaiting the next order.


                       --- Mary Karr, from Sinners Welcome


Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

Thoughts and Tremors

It's been a while since I posted.  I've been busy with school, busy with writing, and busy with trying to carve a life out of this existence.  Okay, maybe that's a bit too esoteric, but granted, I have been busy.  But a few days ago, the ground shook.  I mean, it literally moved.

This is a scene, via CNN, of people evacuating after Tuesday's quake.

I don't live in California.  I've never even visited any place remotely close.  If that's what living there means having to get used to, I will never make that move.

The earthquake that hit the East Coast on Tuesday caused little damage to the area where I live in southern Maryland.  It did however, scare a lot of people.

I remember thinking that someone upstairs was running.  And then the running got stronger.  When the entire room began shaking, I jumped to my feet and tried not to panic.  At first, I thought I should hide in the closet. But the front door seemed more appealing.  By the time I got outside, from my second floor apartment, I was surrounded by equally alarmed neighbors, and most of the shaking was over.

But my heart kept beating.  I kept trying to figure out if what I'd just felt was real.  The entire world moved.  That's a scary thought and one that made me think:  what if it had been worse?

Earthquake readiness wasn't anywhere on my mind three days ago.  I figured a meteor would hit long before I'd be trying to forget what 5.9 on the Richter scale feels like.  But Tuesday showed me that you have to be prepared for anything.  Even the once-in-a-lifetime East Coast earthquake.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet