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

The Occasional Crazy Rare Quote # 13

You know, they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally the river floods these places. "Floods" is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was. Writers are like that: remembering where we were, what valley we ran through, what the banks were like, the light that was there and the route back to our original place. It is emotional memory -- what the nerves and skin remember as well as how it appeared. And a rush of imagination is our “flooding.”

                                                                       --- Toni Morrison 




The wisdom floods from her words!!


Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

For Those Who Long to Fly

Created, using some lines from the novel I've been working on.  It felt so poetic when I was reading it, that I decided to make it into a poem.  Enjoy!

Lepidoptera

Someone should tell the caterpillar.

Explain that these days won’t always be

shuffle and hide.

Explain that there are still better ones ahead.

Instead of scraping at the leaf.

Or chewing at the bits.

Eventually, they will have their fill.

No more countless hours,

trudging through ugly.

Combing through the hairs of this awkwardness.

Eventually, beauty will sprout from within them.

One day, they will get their wings.

We take to this life like

uninformed caterpillars,

desperately wishing we could fly.

But someone should tell the caterpillar.

The Tuesday Groove, Aug. 16, 2011

Today began with an epic bad morning.  I overslept and missed my bus, before finally realizing that I had the wrong information for the appointment I was trying to make.  It was at this time that I decided to go back inside and escape to the comforts of a mind numbing nap.  But suddenly, something hit me.  What for?  Even though the morning started out wrong, it didn't mean my entire day had to be ruined.  So I rose again, changed my clothes, and decided to go out and do the one thing I love to do:  Write!!!  And that led me to one of my favorite writing spots, currently enriched in a rejuvenating writing session.  But I needed to share the song that served as new fuel to my day.  It really got me grooving again.





Breathe Carolina --- Blackout

These guys are so much fun.  This song makes me want to dance.  And dancing, even awkwardly, is one of the quickest ways to get over a bad day.

when life gets you down, body bump!!!

No matter what state your life is in, try to keep on grooving.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet