|
Post by Phalon on Apr 11, 2012 11:45:56 GMT -6
<shrugs> Why not?
I brought over two hundred books back from Mom's house when I went to see my brothers; we pitched twice that amount that were mildewy in a recycling dumpster - two pick-up trucks full. And yes, we are still dealing with all that 'what do we do with this stuff?' nightmare.
I've "de-stinkified" them all- got rid of that old-book smell by placing them in bags of baking soda, or Rubber Maid tubs of cat litter. I'm only keeping about 15 of them; the rest will go to the used book store, sold on the Internet maybe (I found a first-run edition of "Death of a Salesman" that multiple sites say is worth $3,500...uhm, if it has the dust-cover, which this copy doesn't. Drats!), or donated here or there. In the meantime though, 200 page 56s is a lot to ignore.
"His blue suit was worn like a sack, and all the power in his head and hands, in the fine and angry mouth, was spoilt by the little, nervous movements which overran his body like an intermittent ague." ~ from "Elephant and Castle" by R.C. Hutchinson, 1949
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 13, 2012 5:39:43 GMT -6
Today's 56/5:
His face was deeply lined, and in repose the lines fell into bitterness, but as he spoke they could equally have reflected unremitting intellectual vigilance. ~ from "The Thing Desired" by Lalage Pulvertaft, 1957
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 14, 2012 4:23:30 GMT -6
from "The Story of Mrs. Murphy" by Natalie Anderson Scott, 1947:
"Seeing him, one could not tell whether he enjoyed what he ate; indeed, it seemed even questionable whether he was capable of experiencing any positive or negative feeling or sensation. He performed the act of eating as he performed the act of walking, as he performed anything; it was something that had to be done."
Yes, yes, that's two sentences, but I thought dang, what a character sketch - it seems as if the same guy appears on page 56 in all three novels. Let's add them all together, shall we? We'll call him Frank, cuz that seems like a name from a bodice-ripper novel written in the 40s would have. Helen, the 40s bodice-ripper heroine, agrees to a dinner date with the dark, handsome, and slightly mysterious Frank, despite inner-gut warnings that dark, handsome, and slightly mysterious translates into 'he's a jerk'.
His blue suit was worn like a sack, and all the power in his head and hands, in the fine and angry mouth, was spoilt by the little, nervous movements which overran his body like an intermittent ague. His face was deeply lined, and in repose the lines fell into bitterness, but as he spoke they could equally have reflected unremitting intellectual vigilance. Seeing him, one could not tell whether he enjoyed what he ate; indeed, it seemed even questionable whether he was capable of experiencing any positive or negative feeling or sensation. He performed the act of eating as he performed the act of walking, as he performed anything; it was something that had to be done.
Run, Helen, run!!!
|
|
|
Post by Siren on Apr 14, 2012 8:44:01 GMT -6
Wow! Great job, Gams! None of those sentences was bad at all. I particularly liked the bit about his "fine and angry mouth". But you put all the lines together, and he sounds pretty interesting. Emotionally shut-off, but pretty interesting. And that unreachable kind is always attractive to a certain kind of foolish woman. I'm glad you warned Helen. If she is foolish, she won't listen. But hey, you tried. I'm glad you revived this thread! "Like some huge and sable-feathered condor, we were slowly drifting down toward the Bridge of Sighs, when a thousand flambeaux flashing down from the windows, and down the staircase of the Ducal Palace, turned all at once that deep gloom into a livid and preternatural day." ~from "The Assignation" by Edgar Allan Poe, part of a collection of his work
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 17, 2012 6:09:54 GMT -6
Oooo, great one from Poe, Siren. I admit to reading it a few times, and not quite getting it until I looked up the word "flambeaux" - a lighted torch. Eerily beautiful imagery in the sentence.
Here's a change of pace from the last three bodice-rippers I quoted; actually, I have no idea if they're bodice-rippers, but the description of the characters sounds like stereotypical bodice-ripping male.
This one is from "Utah - The Story of Her People" by Milton R. Hunter, Ph.D, published in 1946:
"He impresses a stranger with a certain sense of power; his followers are, of course, wholly fascinated by his superior strength of brain."
It's part of a description of Brigham Young, one of the founders of Utah....and come to think of it, the sentence taken out of context, fits quite well with "Frank's" character.
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 18, 2012 6:40:42 GMT -6
"It might be any town," Distelhorst said, his tone rather flat." ~ from "Ice Palace", by Edna Ferber, 1958 (an angry novel, telling of the fifty-year battle between two titans trying to dominate Alaska's future, says the dust-cover)
|
|
|
Post by Mini Mia on Apr 18, 2012 13:19:20 GMT -6
hmm ... how about adding more pages to the list. Page/s ?? Paragraph ?? Line ??
Ooh ... or making a game of it. Like when you post your book quote you then give a new page number, paragraph number and line number? If you like the idea and want to do either or both, let me know and I'll add it to the rules of the first post.
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 19, 2012 6:19:36 GMT -6
I'll go with the majority's decision on this one, Joxie; it really doesn't matter to me. Although I have to admit to liking the 56/5 thing; it's pretty much engrained in my brain now. There have been times I've posted here resulting from when I've wandered the library or bookstore, picked up a book, automatically turned to page 56, and read the 5th sentence. Weird, yes, but am I alone? I think Siren's ended up on page 56 too without actually reading the book.
Our household heroes were almost exclusively men of learning, spiritual leaders, poets, musicians, philosophers. ~ "Everything But Money" by Sam Levenson, 1949
|
|
|
Post by Mini Mia on Apr 19, 2012 13:52:20 GMT -6
Not a problem. I thought it might liven up the thread.
|
|
|
Post by stepper on Apr 19, 2012 15:11:35 GMT -6
"The ragged youngster worked in the field, in the factory; he prowled in the city alleys. He wanted something – a knowledge of Latin, some power – he knew not what. He needed education, which means drawing out his pent-up energy into use. What was society doing about it? Society was doing very little. Here and there throughout the country intelligent men hoped education would be made free. But the general feeling ran: ‘Free schools! The next thing the idealist will want is free food! Education is a luxury. If you want it, pay for it; if you can’t afford it, no one’s to blame but yourself.’ So the rich might say. They sent heir heirs to private schools, or hired tutors for them. They did not deny the necessity of education for any but the poor. The poor did not deserve it." from Champions of Democracy by Joseph Cottler, 1936. It's not an especially remarkable book except to me it has a special meaning. Computers were limited back in the 1930s; so were opportunities for girls who were redheaded cross-eyed high school graduates. But when you could spell and type accurately, you had necessary skills that didn't require a short skirt, loose morals, or an appearance where being 'outside of the norm' for the time was a problem. Being different in anyway wasn't a good thing, especially if you wanted one of those very scarce jobs. I have no idea how it happened, but Mr. Cottler who lived out-of-state was put in contact with a young, just out of high school girl named Dorothy Leake. Ms Leake became his typist and was for some time responsible for making the handwritten manuscript readable. I've still got the 'thank you' letter Mr. Cottler printed - it's not easy to decipher. Mom said there were many revisions by the author and she had to retype the entire book more than once, but eventually it went to print.
Here’s the “small world” part of the story. Again, for reasons I don’t know and can’t find out, a gentleman purchased a copy of the book and put a label in it indicating it belonged to him. That book with its label pasted inside was eventually given to my mother who had labored over the manuscript for so many hours. The purchaser of this tome, the person who at some point gave it to my mother, was a gentleman named Russell.
My mother could not afford to purchase a copy of the book when it was published – not when everyone in the family worked to support each other and there were libraries if you wanted something to read. She spent oh so many hours laboring over this thing, and she could not even get a copy for herself. The author sent her a personal note of appreciation and told how after celebrating for three days he and his wife were taking a vacation, but the book itself made no mention of her contribution. As far as I can tell, there was only one printing, but you can still Google it and find results. Then, at some point, Russell gave the book to Dorothy. The interesting part is not only that my mother typed and retyped this thing, but that Russell purchased it during the Depression, around 1936 or 37, some five or six years before my parents met or became engaged. You see, ‘Russell’ is my grandfather. So today I have an obscure and somewhat scholarly book typed by my mother, and purchased by my grandfather. Not long after she received the book, Mr. Cottler and mom met, and Mr. Cottler autographed the book for her.
She worked on the hardback more than sixty-five years ago, and died more than twenty years ago. Yet, I can still find the odd memory here and there. Today when I tried to look up the book title I was surprised to find that several of the pages are available for reading on the internet, just the way she typed them, all those many years ago.
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 20, 2012 6:24:59 GMT -6
Stepper! What a lovely story, and I'm sure the book is a treasured heirloom.
"It was now the twenty-third of June." ~ When the Mountain Fell by C-F Ramuz 1947
(Dang, my calendar must be wrong!)
|
|
|
Post by Mini Mia on Apr 20, 2012 17:48:31 GMT -6
But during the ride back to Bon Temps, with my best guy friend driving and giving me the silence I needed, I thought hard.
Dead Reckoning by Charlaine Harris
|
|
|
Post by Siren on Apr 20, 2012 22:29:25 GMT -6
A "redheaded, cross-eyed high school graduate", eh? Sounds like she did all right for herself. Had a hand in a published book, and had a grandson who was proud of her.
+++++++++++++
French and German were spoken exclusively at two tables, and it was compulsory to attend them by rotation.
~from "Rage For Fame: The Ascent Of Clare Booth Luce"
|
|
|
Post by stepper on Apr 21, 2012 18:41:47 GMT -6
I don't know that I'm such a grand son, but you're right that she certainly made the best of every opportunity, and yes, she did all right for herself. She was adept at what we now consider a lost art - listening. You've heard of reading for comprehension? She listened that way. ----------- Dow's Law: In a hierarchical organization, the higher the level, the greater the confusion. - The Complete Murphy's Law, A Definitive Collection, Arthur Bloch, 1991.
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 22, 2012 6:42:21 GMT -6
Mom was like that. I think it's an admirable quality that not many people possess.
One of the fun things for me about going through all these old books is trying to figure out who they belonged to; both my parents were avid readers - Dad more so than Mom. My aunt was too, and I know many of the books were hers, which ended up in my parents' house when she died in the same I've got all the books now - what do you do with them?
Dad would read anything laying around - it really didn't matter the topic or genre. A lot of the books published in the late 40s and early 50s have his name written inside the cover, and I'm guessing this is how he passed the time while he was in the Navy during the Korean War.
Out of Dad's 14 brothers and sisters, Dorothy was the oldest. Mom worked with her; Dad lived with her after he returned from the Navy. That's how they met. Aunt Dorothy was quite eccentric. I figure most of the odd books came from her house. I'm betting the book about Utah's history was Aunt Dorothy's.
Guessing which ones were Mom's are easy - she stuck photos, letters, and mementos between the pages, probably grabbing whatever was handy to use as a bookmark. Based on the stuff that falls out of the books I open, I know she was in a book club throughout the 40s to the early 50s. All of the bodice-rippers I quoted earlier were Book Club Editions.
Here's another:
“If he ain’t – I’ll see.” ~ The Long Love by John Sedges, copyright MCMLXIX, Book Club Edition
(1949? It's math; how the hell should I know.)
|
|
|
Post by katina2nd on Apr 22, 2012 7:01:31 GMT -6
If you just learn a single trick, Scout, you'll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it. From "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee.
|
|
|
Post by Mini Mia on Apr 22, 2012 16:35:50 GMT -6
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 23, 2012 6:22:59 GMT -6
"To Kill a Mockingbird" is one of those books I've wanted to read, but never have. LX read it in English last year, and while it was hanging around the house, I figured I'd finally read it. I never got around to it, though.
At least I got the 1900 part of it right, (eye-roll). Actually, I was entirely right when I thought 1949. MCMLXIX is 1969, but it seemed too recent for Mom's book club time period - and the book looked a lot older than from the 60s. I checked again; I mistyped the first time around. The book was published in MCMLIX.
This one lists the publication date in Roman numerals too (what's up with that?)
"But listen son. Do not ever dream that you have no hearth or home." ~ from "The King’s Cavalier" by Samuel Shellabarger, copyright MCML, Book Club Edition
|
|
|
Post by Mini Mia on Apr 23, 2012 12:12:25 GMT -6
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 23, 2012 19:53:53 GMT -6
ARGH! I did it again. Copyright, (typing slowly this time, and double checking as I go) MCMXLIX. BOLL. This isn't even math, and I keep messing it up! Shoot, I would have failed first grade Roman arithmetic; I can't even count to 50...or would that be I grade Roman arithmetic; I can't even count to L? Regardless, "The Long Love" was published in 1949; Amazon says so. www.amazon.com/long-love-john-sedges/dp/B000NS0JOQ
|
|
|
Post by Mini Mia on Apr 23, 2012 21:13:19 GMT -6
1949 = MCMXLIX
|
|
|
Post by Siren on Apr 24, 2012 20:24:34 GMT -6
She may well have had a sweetheart on board, sneaking kisses the way she portrays the Stanleys doing.
~"The Cowboy Girl: The Life Of Caroline Lockhart" by John Clayton
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 25, 2012 6:37:30 GMT -6
"The effect, when the job is properly done, is pleasing." ~ from "How To Build Cabins, Lodges & Bungalows by the Editorial Staff of Popular Science Monthly, copyright 1946
HA! No Roman numerals.
|
|
|
Post by scamp on Apr 25, 2012 22:12:06 GMT -6
I reached for the nearest book and three tumbled into my lap. Oh the agony of books in revolt...
"Here, Mrs. Morel, I want to tell you about your Willie." Sons and Lovers, D.H. Lawrence
Where is there a choice in gamboling. Tender Buttons Objects - Food - Rooms, Gertrude Stein (I had to cheat cause the book doesn't have but 44 pages - I used page 36)
Her hands, lying on the reins in her lap, were firm even in repose. Jacob's Room, Virginia Woolf
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 26, 2012 6:25:49 GMT -6
The reins in her lap...I like that. I haven't read a whole lot of Woolf's work, but I picture her describing a timid woman, trying not to give away her nervousness. On the other hand, as someone who talks with my hands using big sweeping gestures, I'd do well to rein in my hands on occasion; they can (and have) been dangerous to anyone standing too close.
"They found a tree and sat around it, but it was soon uncomfortable." ~ from "Young Mr. Keefe" by Stephen Birmingham, 1958
Sounds like a pretty blah sentence, but the few lines preceding it paint an interesting scene:
"I'm deliciously, marvelously drunk." She looked up at the sky. "I see three moons," she said, and laughed. "Let's tell ghost stories."
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 27, 2012 5:45:10 GMT -6
"His tone was troubled." ~ from "The Anglophile" by Egan O'Neill, 1957
Another blah sentence, but the book title is kind of interesting.
Anglophile: a person who admires England, its culture, customs, and people.
|
|
|
Post by Siren on Apr 27, 2012 9:47:38 GMT -6
I'm deliciously, marvelously drunk." She looked up at the sky. "I see three moons," she said, and laughed. "Let's tell ghost stories."
Oooooo....that is great!
+++++++++
"I stuck a few ferns in them so they would look as if they were growing there and ran back to camp, breathless."
~from an old favorite I have read many times, "My Side Of The Mountain" by Jean Craighead George
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on Apr 30, 2012 4:40:54 GMT -6
Siren, I remember another old favorite of yours is "Joy in the Morning" by Betty Smith. This one is from Betty Smith's third book, published before "Joy in the Morning".
Yes, he would! ~ from "Maggie-Now" by Betty Smith, 1958
Is that too much of a tease? How about the sentence before too.
And he'd marry Maggie Rose. Yes, he would!
|
|
|
Post by Phalon on May 1, 2012 6:14:38 GMT -6
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” from "Constantine: The Miracle of the Flaming Cross", by Frank G. Slaughter, 1965
|
|
|
Post by Siren on May 1, 2012 21:11:13 GMT -6
Siren, I remember another old favorite of yours is "Joy in the Morning" by Betty Smith. This one is from Betty Smith's third book, published before "Joy in the Morning". Yes, he would! ~ from "Maggie-Now" by Betty Smith, 1958 Is that too much of a tease? How about the sentence before too. And he'd marry Maggie Rose. Yes, he would! Thanks, Gams! You have a good memory. I have never read "Maggie-Now", but after reading some reviews, I think I need to. www.amazon.com/Maggie-Now-Novel-P-S-Betty-Smith/dp/0062120204/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1335927850&sr=1-2++++++++++ "Every bend presents a delightful view of water, mossy banks, old stumps, tumbled rocks and the deep sandy part of the stream, the cool pools where trout retreat on warm summer days." from "The Shape Of A Year" by Jean Hersey, bought for my mom's birthday under recommendation by Gams. And you know what, Gams? I know I made the right choice; the illustration on the title page is of a wren, my mom's favorite bird.
|
|