on the eve

So, Sarkozy won (which I knew he would), and Paris Hilton is going to jail. There is no end to the newsworthy.

I had to be ruthless in paring down the books I could take with me. I won't mention who didn't make the cut because then I will change my mind and try to figure it out all over again. But enough is enough. The bag is packed, the notebook and pencil are primed.

I've been entrusted with leading a workshop in Switzerland for some high school students, and in doing so have been revisiting some poems I haven't looked at in a while. Akhmatova in particular. Early on in my undergraduate poetry workshop career (four years in the same workshop counts as a career I think), we looked at her poems, and went into a lot of the detailing, the subtlety that made them work. I feel like the poetry I have been reading lately is a lot more layered, but a lot less intense. The moments that Akhmatova captures are the crux of her poems. There is also some emotional layering, political undercurrents, social constructs, etc., but the truly amazing thing about her poetry is how simple it is. Not in a deceptively simple way either, like, say, William Carlos Williams, who I have also been revisiting.

What I love about this is how differently I feel each time I re-read a book of poetry, especially if it has been a while. There is a rekindling of feeling. A newer and more observant bond. With fiction I don't tend to get this reaction. Books I have reread over and over again inevitably illicit the same emotional/intellectual response they did the first time, which is why I reread certain books over and over. I have read Little Women over a hundred times, and that is a conservative estimate. At least once a year now, sometimes more, and as a child/teenager I would reread it incessantly. I have grown up with this book, read it at all different stages of my life. I change, but the book doesn't. I do start to notice things about the book though, places that are not as strong as others, and there are chapters I prefer, and I still get mad when Amy burns up Jo's book, but these are things I enjoy so much that each time the book is always satisfying.

I had a point here, I think. Ah, yes. Poetry. A bird of a different feather. I could never choose between them. They do different things. Obviously. I do think though, that if Harry Potter had been around when I was a kid, I may have passed over Little Women. I can't be certain of course. But it is possible. I have read all six books a fair few times and there are so many holes and unexplained things in the stories, that if they were not so engaging and such a great tale of good vs evil, I would be mad. J.K. should have sent them to me for proofreading. I'd have happily pointed out her problems. I may do that in a later post anyway. But I still love the books, love the movies.

And this time tomorrow I will be boarding a plane. I love to travel, and I miss the days when the terminals were open to people picking up and dropping off. The bustle. People watching. Insanely overpriced bottles of water and chocolate bars. Luggage. Waiting. All of that is the good part. Being stuck on the plane is not as much fun. But still. Travel is good. I am not sure if I will be able to post much (if at all), but I will definitely once I return State-side. And we do have a saying about these trips: what happens in Munich, stays in Munich. Thank god!