literature

Reading Serendipitously: De l’âme

June 7, 2019 By Allison

Spearing the kangaroo, Tommy Mcrae (detail)

Try this. Pull a book from the shelf, open it at random, and let your eyes fall where they will. What words jump out at you? Do they hold wisdom, hope, or even an answer to a question you’ve been pondering?

I often find unexpected messages in this way. It’s always a surprise when a seemingly random chain of words speaks to something that’s been on my mind. The Improvised Life blog features this practice in its Opened at Random posts. In his book on creativity, Phil Cousineau writes about engaging in bibliomancy in a Galway bookstore in hopes of finding inspiration. When messages leap from the page to my heart, I call this reading serendipitously.

As spring was about to emerge, I was yearning to re-ground myself in nature, but it was still too cold to spend much time outside. François Cheng’s meditation on the soul, De l’âme, spoke to my need to reconnect with the outdoors.

“Le lien entre l’arbre et les oiseaux semble naturel. Mais l’alliance de l’arbre avec les hommes est-elle assez prise en compte par nous ? Sommes-nous conscients que nous ne pouvons trouver dans la nature compagnon plus fiable et plus durable ? Cet être debout comme nous, qui depuis les profondeurs du sol tend résolument vers le haut, nous rappelle que notre être tient tout autant de la terre que du ciel” (118-119).

“The connection between tree and birds seems natural. But the union of tree with man, do we consider it enough? Are we aware that we can find no more reliable and durable companion? Like us, this upright being, who, from the depths of the soil stretches resolutely upwards, reminds us that our being holds just as much from the earth as from the sky.”

Recent Reads

March 16, 2019 By Allison

These days, I’m living my best book life. I have short, precarious stacks of books all over the house: travel guides, novels, poetry, cookbooks. I love my books, but I am hard on them. I make copious notations, I stash them in my bag when I’m on the go, and if I sense someone needs my book more than I do, I give it away.

Our winter wasn’t as cold and snowy as some, but it was grey and damp. I spent those months dabbling, skipping from book to book, and rereading a few favorites. If I begin reading a book and I’m not hooked after a few chapters, I set it aside. I spent ten years as a student of literature, and I always read what I was instructed to read. Now I’m more reckless. Sometimes I purchase a book simply because it has a pretty cover. I read more in English. Unfinished books linger. It’s glorious to flit between subjects and genres and to touch so many different books in one sitting.

For this post, I gathered a selection of some recent and favorite reads that might lead you to your next book. Dainin Katagiri’s The Light That Shines Through Infinity has been a steady, insightful spiritual companion that I have already gifted to a friend and that I will reread multiple times. Michelin’s guide to Brittany has had me dreaming about France’s rugged coasts, and Alexandre Maral’s Versailles: côté ville, côté jardin has furthered my research on the Royal City. My cookbook collection is unmanageable, but Emeril Lagasse’s review of Bottom of the Pot made Naz Deravian’s new book on Persian cuisine irresistible.

A few months ago, I embarked on a poetry project with a friend. Each month, we read one poem by Irish poet Eavan Boland. We stay with that poem for a whole month, and then we each compose our own poem that is inspired by and seems to grow from the month’s poem. Writing and sharing poetry terrifies me, but our Eavan Boland project has helped me to go deeper with poetry and to feel brave enough to write my own poems.

If English is my first and most comfortable language, French is my chosen and beloved language. My French winter reads were delightful. I’ve been enjoying random selections of François Cheng’s De l’âme (About the Soul). He unfailingly brings me beauty as he bridges philosophies of the East and the West. In Le camélia de ma mère (My Mother’s Camellia), Alain Baraton, the head gardener at the Château de Versailles, sings the beauty of his mother’s favorite flower. And after teaching L’Elégance du hérisson (The Elegance of the Hedgehog), last spring, I am treating myself to a third or fourth reading of Muriel Barbery’s novel on the beauty of friendship.

Inspirations

Discovering Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca

Thoughts on beauty and grief

Madeline on Our Mind

April 7, 2018 By Allison

In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines
lived twelve little girls in two straight lines

My four year-old niece Sylvie Rose is intrigued by the story of a little girl in Paris named Madeline. Her father bought the storybook for Sylvie before she was even born, and I imagine they have spent many hours reading and rereading about Miss Clavel’s sense that something was not right... about Madeline’s subsequent surgery…the crank on the hospital bed… the dollhouse from Papa…her friends’ hospital visit.

I suspect that some of Sylvie’s devotion to Madeline is due to the fact that she lives in Paris. Sylvie Rose knows that Aunt Allison is a French teacher who makes occasional visits to Paris. Her questions give me glimpses of her four-year old mind: Madeline is a real kid, right? Where is her house? And during my most recent trip to France she called to ask, Did you find her?

I love her intensity and admire her persistence in her search for Madeline. These FaceTime conversations strengthen my bond with my niece, but they have also served as a surprising throwback to my own childhood. When I was seven or eight, I was infatuated with Madeline. My little sister had a pop-up version of the book, and I loved it so! I think I found beauty in the order of the twelve little girls in two straight lines. In two straight lines they broke their bread, and brushed their teeth, and went to bed. These words are etched in my mind.

Madeline was probably my first exposure to Paris, or at least to the idea of Paris. Each monument pictured in the story is now familiar to me—Notre Dame, les Invalides, les Jardins de Luxembourg. Paris is home to me. As a little girl in Iowa, these places would have seemed otherworldly. I believe that I chose to study French, in part, thanks to my affinity for Madeline and my curiosity about the vision of France I discovered in her story.

Many years later, Sylvie Rose is weaving her own literary landscape, and Madeline is part of it. Watching her, the story of the little girl in Paris reemerges, expands, and intersects with my niece’s quest.

Inspirations

Ludwig Bemelmans’ Madeline, published in 1939

Reading with kids

The joy of summer reading

Summer Reads

August 5, 2017 By Allison

I let reading take over this summer. It’s just what I needed. Last summer I was too busy to settle in with my books, only able to squeeze in a few novels here and there. I missed the ease of summer reading and vowed that this year would be different. I have been consuming books!

Real books

Le Camélia de ma mère by Alain Baraton

Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers by Leonard Koren

The Romance of Tea by William Ukers

Une Gourmandise by Muriel Barbery

Biographie de la faim by Amélie Nothomb

Olio by Tychimba Jess

On the Kindle

Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenedies

The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben

The Light Between the Oceans by M.L. Stedmen

Audio Books

The Story of the Lost Child by Elena Ferrante

The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert

The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt

What are you reading? In what format do you read? I am new to audio books and having fun with them. I’d love to know your thoughts!