FYIP

1. I've read Harry Potter 7.

2. It must be awfully difficult to pull Lear off - to have enough of a remnant of greatness in him to sustain the tragedy. I rather enjoyed the RSC Lear, despite Cordelia, who I guess was trying to be feisty and spirited but unfortunately came across as shrill and shrewish, and Edmund, who was a little too much the storybook villain.

3. I did think it was a triumph - that the energy level stayed high, the actors looked like they were really into the play, and pulled off the difficult bits with some success, and that the spear-carriers were aesthetically pleasing.

4. Somehow we seem have produced - neither the richness that a freer society might produce, where artists may have licence to experiment with thought and range and form, and political concerns do not deafen artistic concerns, nor the depth that a more oppressive society might produce, where artists may be able to bring the political cliches and distortions of the day into more human relief, and forge gold from suffering.

5. I've just finished re-reading, and marvelling at, the Northern Lights series, which is rich and complex and inventive.

"Why -" Lyra began, and found her voice weak and trembling - "Why can't I read the alethiometer anymore? Why can't I even do that? That was the one thing I could do really well, and it's just not there anymore - it just vanished as if it had never come..."

"You read it by grace," said Xaphania, looking at her, "and you can regain it by work."

"How long will that take?"

"A lifetime."

"That long..."

"But your reading will be even better then, after a lifetime of thought and effort, because it will come from conscious understanding. Grace attained like that is deeper and fuller than grace that comes freely, and furthermore, once you've gained it, it will never leave you."

Normal service will be resumed

when I've finished Harry Potter.

Talk to you then.

Counting

My brother came into my room as I was reading xkcd and said, have you seen the latest one? I showed that to my girlfriend today. (How sweet, I said.) She got upset with me.

He said

he went down to the beach, and let the shallow waves roll over him, and there was gold all over the place, and he missed me.

[Because I often forget.]

Chacun à son goût

From the BBC:

Now, though, after years of applying myself to the Chinese arts of eating, I understand the pleasure of having something slithery and bouncy in my mouth.

Bells, belated

Best wishes to Syn and Bear! And all the happiness that their (new!) house can hold.

4

you're soaking in it.

3

For Sidney Bechet
by Philip Larkin

That note you hold, narrowing and rising, shakes
Like New Orleans reflected on the water,
And in all ears appropriate falsehood wakes,

Building for some a legendary Quarter
Of balconies, flower-baskets and quadrilles,
Everyone making love and going shares --

Oh, play that thing! Mute glorious Storyvilles
Others may license, grouping around their chairs
Sporting-house girls like circus tigers (priced

Far above rubies) to pretend their fads,
While scholars manques nod around unnoticed
Wrapped up in personnels like old plaids.

On me your voice falls as they say love should,
Like an enormous yes. My Crescent City
Is where your speech alone is understood,

And greeted as the natural noise of good,
Scattering long-haired grief and scored pity.

2

Language
by W. S. Merwin

Certain words now in our knowledge we will not use again, and we will never forget them. We need them. Like the back of the picture. Like our marrow, and the color in our veins. We shine the lantern of our sleep on them, to make sure, and there they are, trembling already for the day of witness. They will be buried with us, and rise with the rest.

1

What would you say the pertinent facts were, after so long an absence?