A reading list, 1983-2008

The Best Reads from 1983 to 2008 (According to Entertainment Weekly)

1. The Road , Cormac McCarthy (2006)
2. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (2000)
3. Beloved, Toni Morrison (1987)
4. The Liars' Club, Mary Karr (1995)
5. American Pastoral, Philip Roth (1997)
6. Mystic River, Dennis Lehane (2001)
7. Maus, Art Spiegelman (1986/1991)
8. Selected Stories, Alice Munro (1996)
9. Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier (1997)
10. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Haruki Murakami (1997)
11. Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer (1997)
12. Blindness, José Saramago (1998)
13. Watchmen, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (1986-87)
14. Black Water, Joyce Carol Oates (1992)
15. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers (2000)
16. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood (1986)
17. Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez (1988)
18. Rabbit at Rest, John Updike (1990)
19. On Beauty, Zadie Smith (2005)
20. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding (1998)
21. On Writing, Stephen King (2000)
22. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Díaz (2007)
23. The Ghost Road, Pat Barker (1996)
24. Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry (1985)
25. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan (1989)
26. Neuromancer, William Gibson (1984)
27. Possession, A.S. Byatt (1990)
28. Naked, David Sedaris (1997)
29. Bel Canto, Anne Patchett (2001)
30. Case Histories, Kate Atkinson (2004)
31. The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien (1990)
32. Parting the Waters, Taylor Branch (1988)
33. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion (2005)
34. The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold (2002)
35. The Line of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst (2004)
36. Angela's Ashes, Frank McCourt (1996)
37. Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi (2003)
38. Birds of America, Lorrie Moore (1998)
39. Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri (2000)
40. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman (1995-2000)
41. The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros (1984)
42. LaBrava, Elmore Leonard (1983)
43. Borrowed Time, Paul Monette (1988)
44. Praying for Sheetrock, Melissa Fay Greene (1991)
45. Eva Luna, Isabel Allende (1988)
46. Sandman, Neil Gaiman (1988-1996)
47. World's Fair, E.L. Doctorow (1985)
48. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver (1998)
49. Clockers, Richard Price (1992)
50. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen (2001)
51. The Journalist and the Murderer, Janet Malcom (1990)
52. Waiting to Exhale, Terry McMillan (1992)
53. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon (2000)
54. Jimmy Corrigan, Chris Ware (2000)
55. The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls (2006)
56. The Night Manager, John le Carré (1993)
57. The Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe (1987)
58. Drop City, TC Boyle (2003)
59. Krik? Krak! Edwidge Danticat (1995)
60. Nickel & Dimed, Barbara Ehrenreich (2001)
61. Money, Martin Amis (1985)
62. Last Train To Memphis, Peter Guralnick (1994)
63. Pastoralia, George Saunders (2000)
64. Underworld, Don DeLillo (1997)
65. The Giver, Lois Lowry (1993)
66. A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, David Foster Wallace (1997)
67. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini (2003)
68. Fun Home, Alison Bechdel (2006)
69. Secret History, Donna Tartt (1992)
70. Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell (2004)
71. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, Ann Fadiman (1997)
72. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon (2003)
73. A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving (1989)
74. Friday Night Lights, H.G. Bissinger (1990)
75. Cathedral, Raymond Carver (1983)
76. A Sight for Sore Eyes, Ruth Rendell (1998)
77. The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro (1989)
78. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert (2006)
79. The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell (2000)
80. Bright Lights, Big City, Jay McInerney (1984)
81. Backlash, Susan Faludi (1991)
82. Atonement, Ian McEwan (2002)
83. The Stone Diaries, Carol Shields (1994)
84. Holes, Louis Sachar (1998)
85. Gilead, Marilynne Robinson (2004)
86. And the Band Played On, Randy Shilts (1987)
87. The Ruins, Scott Smith (2006)
88. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby (1995)
89. Close Range, Annie Proulx (1999)
90. Comfort Me With Apples, Ruth Reichl (2001)
91. Random Family, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc (2003)
92. Presumed Innocent, Scott Turow (1987)
93. A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley (1991)
94. Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser (2001)
95. Kaaterskill Falls, Allegra Goodman (1998)
96. The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown (2003)
97. Jesus’ Son, Denis Johnson (1992)
98. The Predators' Ball, Connie Bruck (1988)
99. Practical Magic, Alice Hoffman (1995)
100. America (the Book), Jon Stewart/Daily Show (2004)

__________________________________

I bolded the books I've read. Of them I feel that #60 was a total waste of time. Anyone who's been nickeled and dimed to death as we were for the first decade of our marriage hates the condescending tone of the author toward her subjects. (This was the least popular Freshman Experience book among students). I also didn't like #96 at all but at least it had breakneck pacing.

If getting you straight in the heart has anything to do with it, Owen Meany needs to be sent up to the top 5 with a bullet, as does Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried. How in the world was #34 ahead of OWEN MEANY!!!!?????!!!!!!

Patti Smith: Dream of Life

The film...opens with the image of galloping horses, horses, horses, horses and her speaking in present-day voice-over, narrating in that inimitable flat accent (“leanin’ on the paakin’ meter,” as she sings in “Gloria”), swiftly tallying the ups and dreadful downs, the births and deaths that had helped shape her until now.

I will have to see this in Nashville when it's released there--will not be able to wait for Netflix. Anyone up for a road trip to see Modigliani-beautiful poet/musician? (Peter P., I know you will be able to see this before I do. Please blog about it!)

Happy Birthday, Not So Secret Poetry Crush: From The Writer's Almanac

It's the birthday of the poet Alfred Tennyson, (books by this author) born in Lincolnshire, England (1809). Tennyson lived at a time when authors like Charles Dickens were turning the novel into the most popular form of literature, and he was one of the last poets who could sell as many books as a novelist. Nearly every literate household owned at least one copy of his poetry. He was also one of the last poets of an era when poets wrote for the spoken voice. In Tennyson's day, poetry was meant to be read aloud among groups of people, as a form of parlor entertainment, like karaoke. He was a friend of Queen Victoria, and he wrote public poems for England, including "Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington" (1852) and "Charge of the Light Brigade" (1854), which became unofficial national anthems.

At the height of his career, he was one of the most famous men in England. He loved poetry so much that he wrote almost nothing else. Unlike other poets of his day, he never wrote a preface, an essay, a review, a diary, a memoir, or even a fragment of autobiography. He hated writing letters because they took time away from his real work.

Tennyson moved with his wife, Emily, to the Isle of Wight to a big, secluded house called Farringford. Emily loved that their clocks were not even synchronized with those of the rest of the world. Alfred took walks on the great chalk cliffs overlooking the sea, composing his poems to the rhythm of his own footsteps.

In 1864, he published Enoch Arden, which had the largest sales of any book during his lifetime. More than 40,000 copies sold on publication, and in the first year, it made Tennyson more than £8,000, as much as the income of many of the richest men in England. In London, Tennyson was followed in the streets by admirers, and the walls of his country estate were lined with tourists who sometimes even came up to the house and peered into the windows to watch the family eat their dinner.

At the age of 75, he was offered a lordship in honor of his poetry. It was the first time in history that any Englishman had ever been given a title for literary achievement alone. Tennyson said that he accepted the title on behalf of all literature. And that is why we now call him Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Bangles, Boas, Blues, and Bill Matthews

Free-Will Astrology for This Week

CANCER (June 21-July 22): Write down five exciting things you love to do or think about. Take this list with you everywhere you go. On another piece of paper, name five fears or unpleasant thoughts that demoralize you. Put this list at the back of your closet. For the next seven days, try to refrain from letting your mind wander to the things on the bad list. Meanwhile, undertake an aggressive campaign to cultivate, seek out, and enjoy the five exciting things that you love to do and think about. In fact, any time you notice your attention veering toward the negative stuff, immediately steer it toward the positive. Don't worry, this exercise won't turn you into a brain-dead optimist. After all, you'll only do it for a week. The items on the second list will still be there when you're done. Or will they? Maybe they will have mutated into something more manageable.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
I think of this as Dexter and Sinister. The right hand is what is, and the left hand is what is in the future. Both hands in chiromancy have the potential for change. Unless, of course, there are stigmata. But that's probably on the list buried in the back of my closet, behind my badly worn, scuffed pair of slate-colored Skechers. (I love them because the last time I was able to run, that's what I wore).

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
School starts in 15 days. I am so excited. I will be teaching one composition class and one intro/creative writing class (poetry section). I hope the students are as good as 95% of the ones I had last time.

I received my semester ratings for the spring. All but one student gave me good marks. She gave me very poor marks (first time I have ever gotten the equivalent of completely useless). On her handwritten commment, she stated that "Ms. Parker did not teach me anything at all about pottery."

Guilty as charged.

Пойдите с богом

FREE WILL ASTROLOGY--ROB BREZNY

CANCER (June 21-July 22): The world record for attaching clothespins to
one's face is 153. Even if you're tempted to surpass that mark, I beg you
not to. Inflicting pain on yourself in order to impress someone or prove a
point is never a good idea, but it's an especially misguided notion right
now. I wouldn't object, however, if you did the opposite, which is to
barrage yourself with pleasure in order to impress someone or prove a
point. In my astrological opinion, it's a perfect time to intensify your
commitment to making yourself feel good. This is true for many reasons,
but here's one of the most important ones: It will have a magically tonic
effect on your relationships with others.

Two poems are coming out soon in qarttsiluni. For me, this is very exciting--these two go together in my mind, anyway.

I applied to the Kentucky Women's Writers Conference. I hope I get in.

From Writer's Almanac, July 29, 2008: Stanley Kunitz

It's the birthday of the poet Stanley Kunitz, born in Worcester, Massachusetts, in 1905. He attended Harvard University, where he wanted to teach in the English department, but he was told that Anglo-Saxon students wouldn't want to be taught by a Jew. He said, "That almost broke my heart. And I think in the end it probably did me a great favor because it prevented me from becoming a completely preoccupied scholar." He went on to work as a farmer, and he served in WWII when his conscientious objector status was denied.

Stanley Kunitz published his first book of poetry when he was 25, called Intellectual Things (1930), and he continued to write and publish for 75 years. In 2000, he published The Collected Poems of Stanley Kunitz, and that same year he was named poet laureate of the United States, when he was 95 years old, He died at age 100.

Stanley Kunitz said, "Poetry is inseparable from my life force, and that began very early. It was a great gift, and it has sustained me through the years, and the losses that have attended those years."

He said, "The poem comes in the form of a blessing, like the rapture breaking through on the mind."

And, "Old myths, old gods, old heroes have never died. They are only sleeping at the bottom of our mind, waiting for our call. We have need for them. They represent the wisdom of our race."

First Day Back to Work Post Sewanee

And I've been meme'd. Consider yourself tagged...

As an adult, the following selections have influenced or impacted me the most...

Book: Lolita, which completely changed my notion of lyric prose.

Film: Rivers and Tides, which completely changed the way I teach.

Music: B-52's, because sometimes you need a kick in the ass to get motivated, and "Love Shack" has always been one of mine.

Back from Sewanee and Points Southward

I have many, many things to say about Sewanee and my experiences there and in Chattanooga afterward, but let me unpack my Samsonite and assemble my thoughts. I have missed all of your blogs very much.

Here are three things that were wonderful:

(1) Tim O'Brien's reading. 150 people were in tears.
(2) Daniel Anderson/Andrew Hudgins. No one in our workshop was in tears, although we did dissect several poems, including mine.
(3) Mark Jarman's craft lecture on Chase Twichell. I came away with the fact that her poems are haloed, and maybe she herself is headed for beatification.

Here are three things that were not so wonderful:

(1) Heat/cold/heat. I missed Kentucky's wet-blanket humidity.
(2) Homesickness. I felt like Dorothy longing for Auntie Em. That's the longest I've ever been away from my husband and child. I never expected to crave their presence.
(3) Haughtiness (the attitudes of some of my fellow conferees. See Donna Trussell's excellent post on this very subject).

Here are three surprisingly friendly people:

(1) Jill McCorkle.
(2) Tim O'Brien.
(3) Greg Williamson.

Here are three details:

(1) Mark Strand has the best posture I've ever seen(and glasses like Bullwinkle's Mr. Peabody). There was also a Sherman in his workshop.
(2) I identified 23 different kinds of birds, 42 different varieties of bugs (none thankfully in Benedict, where I stayed), and a huge copperhead (also not thankfully in Benedict).
(3) The Celtic crosses in the Sewanee cemetery are lichenously beautiful.

Pictures to follow of all these...

Packing Now

They say it's your birthday...

Thanks to Jilly at Poetry Hut Blog for the link above. This made my day!

The writer Aidan Higgins tells the story of being a teenager in Dublin in the 1930s. One day he saw W.B. Yeats on the street and, awed and intrigued, followed Yeats as the great man, a Nobel Prize winner, went about his business. He ended up following Yeats into a movie theatre where Yeats enjoyed a silly western about cowboys, varmints and horse thieves.

As it turned out, while he was writing some of the defining poems of the 20th century - "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last/ Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" - the great poet was also an aficionado of westerns. He enjoyed horse operas at the movies and read voraciously pulp western novels about gunslingers and shootouts at the corral. In fact, it is reported that Yeats's dying words, to his wife Georgina, were, "Get the sheriff, George!"

The Greatest Match I've Ever Seen: Wimbledon 2008

I'm a huge Nadal fan, yet I'm so happy that Federer fought back in the tiebreaks. I saw Borg-McEnroe and this match was much, much better. This is a rivalry for the ages, and the two were both as gracious as opponents can be. Sport at its finest, folks, sport at its finest.

I can't wait till the US Open. I predict it may be Federer's to lose, yet Roddick (long shot) and Djokavic are real threats, and I will never ever count Nadal out of a tournament. So much depends on the draw.

I really enjoyed watching Venus' pterydactal wingspan as she won Wimbledon, too. I look forward to seeing Serena get her revenge on hardcourt--don't count out Sharapova.

Rocket's Red Glare...Miss Firecracker

Happy July 4! I hope soon that America can celebrate a real Independence Day with this devastating war ended, and liberty and justice for all extending to all.

Early Fall News: I celebrated my first week of retirement by taking on a last-minute Humanities class for the fall. If the enrollment fills for this add-on, I'll get to lecture about the Western and Eastern Hemispheres---how fun will that be? The class will have an enrollment of greater than 25, so it's a true lecture situation.

Early Birthday News: We also took on a dog. We now have a golden Lab puppy. He's 10 weeks and so beautiful and smart--housebroken in 4 days and adjusting well to the outside world without damaging the garden (there's a dog door for a quick escape when he's tired of my fawning all over him). If you give him a stick he won't even chew anything, although I did catch him eyeing my new 9 West sandals. We named the puppy Banjo because he is so darned fast when he skids, just like a a picker's claw across a banjo's fret. I'll post pictures soon and also post the day lilies and the pole beans. (I may write a poem called Kentucky Wonder. Surely that title's been used before...I am afraid to google it in case it stops this poem pouring out).

Switching Genre News: I think my husband's jealous of the dog, because, after 21 years of marriage, Harvey's finally written me a poem--and it's freakin' good, besides being sly and sexy and not a whit sentimental except for the title. (It's too private to post till I have his permission).

Tennis News: I never noticed that Nadal has a dimple so deep one might sink a nickel into its depths.

Free Will Astrology

CANCER (June 21-July 22): It's Beautify Yourself Week, dear Cancerian. A
conspiracy of cosmic proportions is preparing the conditions necessary
for you to capitalize handsomely on this opportunity. At this very
moment, there is beauty behind you and beauty in front of you. There is
beauty to your left and beauty to your right, beauty above you and
beauty below you. All you have to do is inhale, drink in, and otherwise
suck up this lushness. It will interact synergistically with the splendor that
is also welling up in you, and you will transform into an almost unbearably
gorgeous work of art.

All I can process is suck it up.