Mar 08 2010
For all the Russian literature I’ve studied, and the amount of time I devote to Blok, my strongest emotional attachments are to American poets (and the occasional Briton). I know I’ve posted plenty of Roethke here in the past, and truth be told, I should have done an English master’s and written about him. Would have been far easier in several respects.
When I was in college, Continue Reading »
Mar 07 2010
I wish I could be everywhere at once. And I’ve been neglecting Sasha. So I’m going to post one of my favorite pictures of him.
Listening to Achtung Baby, which has sustained me through all the rough patches in my life for nearly two decades now…
Feb 24 2010
So here’s the list so far… email files to me and I’ll add them!
Files after the jump for spam reasons… Continue Reading »
Feb 18 2010
It seems like everyone is ready for a vacation right about now, so here are some sites I like to follow deals.
http://www.kayak.com/
http://www.vacationstogo.com/
http://www.travelzoo.com/
http://www.shermanstravel.com/
The second two have daily email newsletters you can sign up for–they sometimes have really good last minute deals, so if you’re flexible, you can save a lot!
Feb 06 2010
Written from a hospital bed in 1875, after the 26-year-old Henley had had his leg amputated as a result of tuberculosis of the bone. Originally untitled, Arthur Quiller-Couch bestowed the name “Invictus” (“Unvanquished”) when he included it in The Oxford Book of English Verse. This was the poem Nelson Mandela kept on a scrap of paper during his imprisonment. And, at the other end of the spectrum, this was the poem that Timothy McVeigh chose as his last statement prior to being executed for the Oklahoma City bombings. Oh, and Henley survived until the age of 53, and inspired the character of Long John Silver in Treasure Island by his friend R.L. Stevenson.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
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