Not Trying Quite So Hard, But It Feels Right

[Image: “Comb of Retrospection,” by Michael Leunig]

From whiskey river:

How I Would Paint Happiness

Something sudden, a windfall,
a meteor shower. No —
a flowering tree releasing
all its blossoms at once,
and the one standing beneath it
unexpectedly robed in bloom,
transformed into a stranger
too beautiful to touch.

(Lisel Mueller, from Alive Together: New And Selected Poems [source])

…and:

suggestion

maybe we try too hard to be
remembered, waking to the
glowing yellow disc in ignorance,
swearing that today will be
the day, today we will make
something of our lives. what

if we are so busy searching
for worth that we miss the
sapphire sky and cackling
blackbird. what else is missing?

maybe our steps are too straight
and our paths too narrow and
not overlapping. maybe when
they overlap someone in another
country lights a candle, a couple

resolves their argument, a young
man puts down his silver gun
and walks away.

(Naomi Shihab Nye [source])

…and (which reminds me of my commenters):

Not just any talk is conversation; not any talk raises consciousness. Good conversation has an edge: it opens your eyes to something, quickens your ears. And good conversation reverberates: it keeps on talking in your mind later in the day; the next day, you find yourself still conversing with what was said. That reverberation afterward is the very raising of consciousness; your mind’s been moved. You are at another level with your reflections.

(James Hillman, We’ve Had a Hundred Years of Psychotherapy and the World’s Getting Worse [source])

Not from whiskey river:

3. Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue.

The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But said is far less intrusive than grumbled, gasped, cautioned, lied. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with “she asseverated,” and had to stop reading to get the dictionary.

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said”…

…he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. I have a character in one of my books tell how she used to write historical romances “full of rape and adverbs.”

(Elmore Leonard, from “Easy on the Adverbs…,” listing his “ten rules of writing” [source])

…and:

Over lunch the other day, I shared a story with my colleagues — the surreal experience of being accidentally given a presidential suite at a Four Seasons Hotel. “This was an amazing room, probably 3000+ square feet with over-the-top appointments everywhere,” I said. No more than two minutes after making the statement, an associate checked on his BlackBerry the size of the presidential suite, correcting me that it was closer to 2000 square feet.

What happened to natural conversations, those based on what is already in our heads, unburdened by verification?

(Anthony Tjan [source])

Paul Simon’s “Loves Me Like a Rock” is a sweetheart of an easy song to listen to. It’s a conversation of sorts, an unforced conversation: between the pop and gospel musical genres, between the narrator and his various antagonists, between what Paul Simon-as-cynic once had to say about people-as-rocks (in “I Am a Rock”) and what Paul Simon-as-good-natured-folkie said about them at the time he recorded this. And in this video, he throws in a conversation with The Muppets as well… because everything goes better with Muppets. Lyrics below, as ever.

Lyrics:

Loves me Like a Rock
(Paul Simon, performed with the Muppets’ Electric Mayhem band and backup singers)

When I was a little boy (when I was just a boy)
And the Devil would call my name (when I was just a boy)
I’d say “now who do …
Who do you think you’re fooling?” (when I was just a boy)
I’m a consecrated boy (when I was just a boy)
Singer in a Sunday choir
My mama loves, she loves me
She gets down on her knees and hugs me
She loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And she loves me

When I was grown to be a man (grown to be a man)
And the Devil would call my name (grown to be a man)
I’d say “Now who do…
Who do you think you’re fooling?” (grown to be a man)
I’m a consummated man (grown to be a man)
I can snatch a little purity
My mama loves me, she loves me
She gets down on her knees and hugs me
She loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And she loves me

If I was President (was the president)
And the Congress call my name (was the president)
I’d say, “Who do…
Who do you think you’re fooling?” (was the president)
I’ve got the Presidential Seal (was the president)
I’m up on the Presidential Podium
My mama loves me
She loves me
She gets down on her knees and hugs me
And she loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And she loves me
She loves me, loves me, loves me, loves me…