Evidence above of a happily messy day of reading for me, so far. The shot directly above was taken first, when I still had yesterday's print edition of The Straits Times on the go. After that the small heap of books changed location slightly in a vain attempt at organisation.
Actually a couple of the tomes relate to the Dylan album I was listening to this morning. I gave John Wesley Harding a spin and thought I'd follow the lyrics in Lyrics 1962 - 1985. I'm glad I did, being reminded of just how extraordinarily well-wrought they are in the case of this album - some being written in full, ahead of the music, if the Bobster is to be believed (often a dubious proposition.) Then I thought I'd read the requisite chapter on the album in Paul Williams's Bob Dylan Performing Artist, 1960 - 1973, The Early Years and I'm glad I did. Very insightful stuff. Quite brilliant on the sense of the songs challenging what he terms the analytical mind only to dance away from its net. Gosh, that's good!
I also got re-started on the great A. R. Ammons read-through and decided that Cascadilla Falls, which I read a couple of times afresh, having read it previously, it being roughly the point at which I'd sort of stalled somewhat, is a brilliant gem of a poem. To be more precise, I'd stalled midway in the next poem along, the rambling, discursive, almost 500 liner, Summer Session. I loved it, well most of it, anyway - the bits I understood. And, of course, the bits I didn't fascinated.
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