Don't read this if you want to avoid knowing the ending of House of Mirth by Edith Wharton!
A new letter by Wharton bolsters the case that Lily Bart actually did commit suicide at the end of the novel. Read about it here.
Well duh! We had this discussion at my book group.
Saying Lily Bart didn't commit suicide is like watching the movie Thelma & Louise and saying at the end, "Well, the car could have landed, and they could have just driven off. We don't really know what happens at the end."
Right!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The Unread List
Last night, I walked around the house with the laptop cataloging all my unread books into LibraryThing. I won't say I captured every book, but I got a lot of them, certainly the recent ones. You can check out my list of unread books via LibraryThing here.
There are 62 books on this list as of this writing. The oldest entry is Saint Augustine by Garry Wills, which I cataloged in July 2006 (and probably bought before that). The most recent book I bought a few weeks ago: The Gathering, a modern Irish novel by Anne Enright that won the Booker Prize that I'm about halfway through.
So I have 62 books of 392 that are unread. That means my non-read rate is about 15 percent. This is pretty good considering the number of already-read books I've given away, the already-read books still uncataloged, etc.
So I feel like I want to make some progress on this list, but it is quite long. Intuitively, I feel like I want to first read Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and Sean Wilsey's Oh The Glory of It All.
I also get that very depressing but inevitable feeling of never being able to finish reading everything that I want to. I try to accept that I'll always feel that way and get over it. It's not easy.
There are 62 books on this list as of this writing. The oldest entry is Saint Augustine by Garry Wills, which I cataloged in July 2006 (and probably bought before that). The most recent book I bought a few weeks ago: The Gathering, a modern Irish novel by Anne Enright that won the Booker Prize that I'm about halfway through.
So I have 62 books of 392 that are unread. That means my non-read rate is about 15 percent. This is pretty good considering the number of already-read books I've given away, the already-read books still uncataloged, etc.
So I feel like I want to make some progress on this list, but it is quite long. Intuitively, I feel like I want to first read Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and Sean Wilsey's Oh The Glory of It All.
I also get that very depressing but inevitable feeling of never being able to finish reading everything that I want to. I try to accept that I'll always feel that way and get over it. It's not easy.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
This one is for Howellsreader!
I was at the gym on Wednesday and the woman who got on the machine next to me was reading William Dean Howells! The book in question was A Hazard of New Fortunes.
(Why I'm so excited about this is that my good pal R.E. aka Howellsreader wrote her dissertation on Howells.)
So I asked the woman, why Howells? She said it was her book group's pick, and she wasn't so excited about it at first, but now she's into it.
She also said she read the literary introduction and was totally turned off by the introduction, so she skipped to the book itself, and that was much better. (Take that, high-falutin' litscrits!)
She said she liked the book generally. But, she was frustrated by the book because people back in those days never said what they really meant. So the characters have to spend a lot of time figuring out what the other characters really mean and then communicating in code about what they mean. She concluded it was just a different era then.
But she also said it was very readable, and a nice break from "plucky woman overcomes adversity and finds true love."
What do you say, Howellsreader?
(Why I'm so excited about this is that my good pal R.E. aka Howellsreader wrote her dissertation on Howells.)
So I asked the woman, why Howells? She said it was her book group's pick, and she wasn't so excited about it at first, but now she's into it.
She also said she read the literary introduction and was totally turned off by the introduction, so she skipped to the book itself, and that was much better. (Take that, high-falutin' litscrits!)
She said she liked the book generally. But, she was frustrated by the book because people back in those days never said what they really meant. So the characters have to spend a lot of time figuring out what the other characters really mean and then communicating in code about what they mean. She concluded it was just a different era then.
But she also said it was very readable, and a nice break from "plucky woman overcomes adversity and finds true love."
What do you say, Howellsreader?
Monday, November 19, 2007
Reading for Fun -- not just a good time
The New York Times reports that student test scores have declined as reading for fun has declined.
Read it and weep.
The data also showed that students who read for fun nearly every day performed better on reading tests than those who reported reading never or hardly at all.
Read it and weep.
On Paradise Lost and Katha Pollitt
Picking up again on the Paradise Lost theme ... I've been meditating on the appeal of Milton's Satan, the ultimate rebel. I submit the literary and (film) offspring of Satan is Hannibal Lector of Silence of the Lambs fame (a great movie and a good book). It's not that we admire Hannibal or want to be his friend. I think it's that, on some dark level we don't like to think about, we want to be Hannibal. Hannibal is god-like in the way he creates his own moral universe -- a place of beauty and terror -- and lives in it. And I doubt I'm the first one to make this point.
I was thinking about these themes after hearing a Katha Pollit interview with Terry Gross on Fresh Air about Pollit's book "Learning to Drive." That essay, which appeared in The New Yorker, is one of my all-time favorites. Pollit is a heterosexual feminist, and "Learning to Drive" is about her discovering that her longtime lover has been cheating on her. She dumps him and -- at long last, as a lifelong New Yorker -- has to learn to drive. The essay is funny and smart and bittersweet.
So Pollitt talked to Gross about how her lover had told her he wasn't the monogamous type, and she thought he was speaking in the abstract or whatever, certainly not about her. Terry asked her about how she reacted:
Listen to the whole interview here. A pal says it's a stretch to equate Satan and serial killers to philandering men. My point here, though, is the way we weirdly and often secretly identify with things that are totally unlike ourselves, things that we find intellectually and/or morally abhorrent. And how that identification creates a dramatic tension. I believe it's better to be aware of that phenomenon and examine it than to go along blithely pretending it doesn't exist.
I was thinking about these themes after hearing a Katha Pollit interview with Terry Gross on Fresh Air about Pollit's book "Learning to Drive." That essay, which appeared in The New Yorker, is one of my all-time favorites. Pollit is a heterosexual feminist, and "Learning to Drive" is about her discovering that her longtime lover has been cheating on her. She dumps him and -- at long last, as a lifelong New Yorker -- has to learn to drive. The essay is funny and smart and bittersweet.
So Pollitt talked to Gross about how her lover had told her he wasn't the monogamous type, and she thought he was speaking in the abstract or whatever, certainly not about her. Terry asked her about how she reacted:
Terry Gross: That's such a staple of American popular culture, you know -- the rambler, the man who can't be tied down, who's heels are a-wandering, and so on. So how did you respond to it?
Katha Pollit: I said, `Oh, well, you know, fidelity is very important to me, and I can understand if that's not the way you want to live, but that's the way I have to live. And the person I live with will have to live like that, blah, blah, blah.' You know? And the fact is that if somebody ever says, you know, `Sometimes I feel I'm not cut out for monogamy,' you should believe them. You should believe them.
But, you know, women have this thing--I don't like to speak in generalizations about men and women, although I do it as we all do--but I do think women have this penchant for ramblers and rovers. A lot of women do. And I've thought a lot about this and I write about this in one of the stories, that part of it is you think you can tame them, and that would be so great. That would show how wonderful you are and also how intense the love must be that could conquer that, right? But I came to the conclusion that there's another reason, and that's that you want to be them. You want to be that person. You want to be that rambler and rover, but, for various reasons, you don't let yourself do that, you repress that part of yourself. But if you can be with a person who's like that, that's, in a way, a way of acquiring that characteristic. So I think that women who are attracted to men like that often have that side of themselves that they've suppressed.
Gross: Are you describing yourself?
Pollitt: Maybe. I don't know. I'll have to find out as life goes on. I'm married again, so I'd better not have that quality.
Listen to the whole interview here. A pal says it's a stretch to equate Satan and serial killers to philandering men. My point here, though, is the way we weirdly and often secretly identify with things that are totally unlike ourselves, things that we find intellectually and/or morally abhorrent. And how that identification creates a dramatic tension. I believe it's better to be aware of that phenomenon and examine it than to go along blithely pretending it doesn't exist.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Mister Pip, a book trip, and making the tough calls
I'm going out of town this weekend, so I'll get some blissful airport reading time. The book is my current book group selection, Mister Pip, by Lloyd Jones. This is about a tropical island shattered by war, where the last Westerner remaining teaches the school children by reading Charles Dickens' Great Expectations.
When I get back from this trip, I need to do a serious catalog of all the books I've bought recently that I haven't yet read. I'll admit that my book buying has momentarily gotten a little bit out of hand. I have some really good books that I need to read. Hopefully I will rank these books to help myself decide what to read next, and I'll post the list here.
I badly need to do this before the annual book sale or things will get completely out of hand and there will be books all over the floor because the book shelves are all full.
When I get back from this trip, I need to do a serious catalog of all the books I've bought recently that I haven't yet read. I'll admit that my book buying has momentarily gotten a little bit out of hand. I have some really good books that I need to read. Hopefully I will rank these books to help myself decide what to read next, and I'll post the list here.
I badly need to do this before the annual book sale or things will get completely out of hand and there will be books all over the floor because the book shelves are all full.
Paradise Lost the easy way
I was browsing the children's section at a local bookstore when I ran across The Tale of Paradise Lost. The cover says it's "based on the poem by John Milton; retold by Nancy Willard."
I started thumbing through it, noticing the lovely illustrations by Judy Daly. I was thinking how references to "Paradise Lost" come up often in other books, both high and low literatures. (A cutting edge example would be Neil Gaman's Sandman graphic novel series.) And yes, I studied PL in high school, but not college, and the only thing I remembered about it was that Satan was considered the hero or anti-hero of the work (and why would Milton make it that way?), and that he and his angels fell for nine days before landing in Hell.
So I figured this book would be a pleasant way to catch up on a great work. Being honest about it, I don't see myself going back to the original poem (which you can read on the Internet here) anytime soon, outside of a university class.
Reading the Tale has been interesting, but I'm not sure I'd recommend it for kids. Sample passage:
Nancy Willard has also written a children's book inspired by the works of poet William Blake, one of my all-time favorites. It's called A Visit to William Blake's Inn: Poems for Innocent and Experienced Travelers. I'll probably read that alongside the original, "Songs of Innocence and Experience."
I started thumbing through it, noticing the lovely illustrations by Judy Daly. I was thinking how references to "Paradise Lost" come up often in other books, both high and low literatures. (A cutting edge example would be Neil Gaman's Sandman graphic novel series.) And yes, I studied PL in high school, but not college, and the only thing I remembered about it was that Satan was considered the hero or anti-hero of the work (and why would Milton make it that way?), and that he and his angels fell for nine days before landing in Hell.
So I figured this book would be a pleasant way to catch up on a great work. Being honest about it, I don't see myself going back to the original poem (which you can read on the Internet here) anytime soon, outside of a university class.
Reading the Tale has been interesting, but I'm not sure I'd recommend it for kids. Sample passage:
Now let me tell you about the place God prepared for them. All around them roared floods of fire and whirlwinds of flame that gave no light but made the darkness darker. And there, big as a whale, stretched out on the burning lake, lay Satan. He turned to Beelzebub, his second in command. With the light of Heaven snuffed out of Beelzebub, Satan hardly recognized him.
"All is not lost," said Satan. "We still have the power of our hatred. I shall never bow before the Lord."
"Oh, Prince and Chief, what if God left us our courage only to make us suffer more?"
Nancy Willard has also written a children's book inspired by the works of poet William Blake, one of my all-time favorites. It's called A Visit to William Blake's Inn: Poems for Innocent and Experienced Travelers. I'll probably read that alongside the original, "Songs of Innocence and Experience."
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Yann Martel at Sarasota Festival of Reading
As I posted earlier, J and I found out at the last minute that Yann Martel was going to be at the Sarasota Festival of Reading, so we hopped in the car to go check it out.
The following are my notes that I typed up right after we got back. But I should add that I did not take notes *during* the talk, so these are solely my impressions of his talk as a fan. Certainly the phrasing and word choices are my own. Yann Martel was so well-spoken on his points, and this is definitely a lesser rendition of what he had to say, but oh well. If you ever have the chance to see him talk, you should go. With that disclaimer out of the way ...
Yann Martel gave a great talk. First he discussed how Tomas was selected to be the artist for the Life of Pi illustrated edition. Then Tomas talked about his creative process. He said he works with two types of media: he paints in oils, then takes photographs of the paintings and further manipulates them on computer. (You can see some of the paintings here.)
During the course of the talk, Martel said the illustrated edition was the idea one of his professional associates (I think his publisher), and Yann said he immediately like the idea. He said that illustrated books for adults were quite common in the 19th century, and it's sad that in our times illustrated books are confined mostly to children's books. He said he really loved Tomas' paintings because they are all done from Pi's point of view, so we become Pi, and we never see what Pi looks like. Pi is not described in the novel, he said, so that's for us to imagine even in the illustrated edition.
(Beware, SPOILERS AHEAD.)
Then he spoke generally about the book. He said that Life of Pi is essentially two stories. They are both about a boy who is shipwrecked. In one story there are animals, in another there are not. In the end, the reader has to decide which story to believe, which is the better story.
As we read Life of Pi, Yann said he was testing us. You begin with the premise of a boy who is shipwrecked. OK, that's believable. Then we find out the boy is trapped on a life raft with a tiger. The author makes us believe that. Kind of crazy, but we go along. Then we find the boy and the tiger are blind, and they run into a boat with another blind person. Maybe that's not so believable. By the time we get to the island of the carnivorous plants, he's really pushing us to belive the unbelievable. He said the island is the final test for the reader. If we believe the island, then we have suspended our rationality and are proceeding on faith. At the end of the book, we are forced to choose. The story with the animals is less rational, but is it the better story? Are we prepared to suspend our rationality and believe the better story?
He talked about his background as a philosophy student and pondering the big questions. He said that he felt there was a important part of life we needed to perceive that was beyond our rational powers, beyond our concrete senses. He said rationality is a powerful tool, but it is limited, and it doesn't get at that unseen world. The disciplines that help us comprehend the unseen are art and religion, but they have been diminished in contemporary times by science and capitalism.
He also talked about his newest work, which will be about the Holocaust. He said he has no personal connection to the event, except as an artist, and he was gripped by the way the Holocaust resists attempts to deal with it artistically, except for the memoir. There are exceptions (he mentioned Maus and Life is Beautiful), but even those are highly confessional. So he began to write about the Holocaust using metaphor, and the fiction work features a money and a donkey. (He remarked wryly that he would now be typecast as the writer who deals with animals.) As he was working on the fiction, he found that there were issues he couldn't deal with in fiction, so he began writing an essay, and it grew to be the length of the novel. So the essay will be included in the new work. He said it would be packaged as a flip book: On one side of the book, the novel, but if you turn the book over and upside down, that will be the essay. He said the working title is "The 21st Century Shirt," and he hoped it would be done soon.
Then he took questions, and the first woman to ask, asked about the movie. (Argh! I hate that question.) He said a movie was in the works, and he had read the script and was quite pleased. But he also said it was a difficult movie to film -- with a child star, animals and being filmed on the water -- so he wasn't sure when it would be done.
Another woman asked him how he had written Life of Pi, and he talked a little about that, especially about making Richard Parker a tiger. For awhile, he had considered an elephant or a rhinoceros, but ultimately decided he had to go with a carnivore. The idea of Pi drying sea kelp day after day for herbivores just seemed too much.
He answered a few other questions as well, but I don't recall them ...
This is my summary of his talk, but I should add that he spoke very beautifully, in complex nuanced sentences, and he had lovely manners. Some authors I've seen come off as arrogant or annoyed to have to deal with their dumb fans, but he seemed really genial and open. I went to the book signing afterward, and he and Tomas were both lovely.
It was a wonderful day at the Sarasota Festival of Reading. I'm so glad I went!
The following are my notes that I typed up right after we got back. But I should add that I did not take notes *during* the talk, so these are solely my impressions of his talk as a fan. Certainly the phrasing and word choices are my own. Yann Martel was so well-spoken on his points, and this is definitely a lesser rendition of what he had to say, but oh well. If you ever have the chance to see him talk, you should go. With that disclaimer out of the way ...
Yann Martel gave a great talk. First he discussed how Tomas was selected to be the artist for the Life of Pi illustrated edition. Then Tomas talked about his creative process. He said he works with two types of media: he paints in oils, then takes photographs of the paintings and further manipulates them on computer. (You can see some of the paintings here.)
During the course of the talk, Martel said the illustrated edition was the idea one of his professional associates (I think his publisher), and Yann said he immediately like the idea. He said that illustrated books for adults were quite common in the 19th century, and it's sad that in our times illustrated books are confined mostly to children's books. He said he really loved Tomas' paintings because they are all done from Pi's point of view, so we become Pi, and we never see what Pi looks like. Pi is not described in the novel, he said, so that's for us to imagine even in the illustrated edition.
(Beware, SPOILERS AHEAD.)
Then he spoke generally about the book. He said that Life of Pi is essentially two stories. They are both about a boy who is shipwrecked. In one story there are animals, in another there are not. In the end, the reader has to decide which story to believe, which is the better story.
As we read Life of Pi, Yann said he was testing us. You begin with the premise of a boy who is shipwrecked. OK, that's believable. Then we find out the boy is trapped on a life raft with a tiger. The author makes us believe that. Kind of crazy, but we go along. Then we find the boy and the tiger are blind, and they run into a boat with another blind person. Maybe that's not so believable. By the time we get to the island of the carnivorous plants, he's really pushing us to belive the unbelievable. He said the island is the final test for the reader. If we believe the island, then we have suspended our rationality and are proceeding on faith. At the end of the book, we are forced to choose. The story with the animals is less rational, but is it the better story? Are we prepared to suspend our rationality and believe the better story?
He talked about his background as a philosophy student and pondering the big questions. He said that he felt there was a important part of life we needed to perceive that was beyond our rational powers, beyond our concrete senses. He said rationality is a powerful tool, but it is limited, and it doesn't get at that unseen world. The disciplines that help us comprehend the unseen are art and religion, but they have been diminished in contemporary times by science and capitalism.
He also talked about his newest work, which will be about the Holocaust. He said he has no personal connection to the event, except as an artist, and he was gripped by the way the Holocaust resists attempts to deal with it artistically, except for the memoir. There are exceptions (he mentioned Maus and Life is Beautiful), but even those are highly confessional. So he began to write about the Holocaust using metaphor, and the fiction work features a money and a donkey. (He remarked wryly that he would now be typecast as the writer who deals with animals.) As he was working on the fiction, he found that there were issues he couldn't deal with in fiction, so he began writing an essay, and it grew to be the length of the novel. So the essay will be included in the new work. He said it would be packaged as a flip book: On one side of the book, the novel, but if you turn the book over and upside down, that will be the essay. He said the working title is "The 21st Century Shirt," and he hoped it would be done soon.
Then he took questions, and the first woman to ask, asked about the movie. (Argh! I hate that question.) He said a movie was in the works, and he had read the script and was quite pleased. But he also said it was a difficult movie to film -- with a child star, animals and being filmed on the water -- so he wasn't sure when it would be done.
Another woman asked him how he had written Life of Pi, and he talked a little about that, especially about making Richard Parker a tiger. For awhile, he had considered an elephant or a rhinoceros, but ultimately decided he had to go with a carnivore. The idea of Pi drying sea kelp day after day for herbivores just seemed too much.
He answered a few other questions as well, but I don't recall them ...
This is my summary of his talk, but I should add that he spoke very beautifully, in complex nuanced sentences, and he had lovely manners. Some authors I've seen come off as arrogant or annoyed to have to deal with their dumb fans, but he seemed really genial and open. I went to the book signing afterward, and he and Tomas were both lovely.
It was a wonderful day at the Sarasota Festival of Reading. I'm so glad I went!
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Sarasota Festival
My friend J and I went to the Sarasota Festival of Reading to see Yann Martel speak about the illustrated edition of Life of Pi. I'll be writing more in depth about that soon, but meanwhile, here are some other bits from the festival.
Yann Martel was a headliner, but not the top headliner. That honor would go to CNN's Lou Dobbs and the actor Gene Wilder. (Martel was scheduled after Wilder and before Dobbs.)
Who knew Gene Wilder had so many fans? More than 1,200 people showed up to see him discuss his new novel, "My French Whore." I know it was that many because the volunteers told me that was the venue's capacity, and I watched them turn away many of his disappointed fans because the room was full. I'll say it again: Who knew?
The Dobbs scene was a circus. People wearing shirts and carrying signs that said "I love English," and "Illegal Aliens" with a red "bust" sign over it. Also peace protesters beating on drums and carrying signs that said, "No Person is Illegal," etc.
I brought my new digital camera, but I am no photojournalist. My photos of Yann Martel are pitiful. The best photos I took were of Lou Dobbs, who ended up talking to the people standing right next to me. (I did *not* chase him down for a photo. I'm not a Dobbs fan; I don't even have cable.)
So here's my mediocre photo of Lou Dobbs, for you spoonreader fans who are also avid celebrity watchers
Yann Martel was a headliner, but not the top headliner. That honor would go to CNN's Lou Dobbs and the actor Gene Wilder. (Martel was scheduled after Wilder and before Dobbs.)
Who knew Gene Wilder had so many fans? More than 1,200 people showed up to see him discuss his new novel, "My French Whore." I know it was that many because the volunteers told me that was the venue's capacity, and I watched them turn away many of his disappointed fans because the room was full. I'll say it again: Who knew?
The Dobbs scene was a circus. People wearing shirts and carrying signs that said "I love English," and "Illegal Aliens" with a red "bust" sign over it. Also peace protesters beating on drums and carrying signs that said, "No Person is Illegal," etc.
I brought my new digital camera, but I am no photojournalist. My photos of Yann Martel are pitiful. The best photos I took were of Lou Dobbs, who ended up talking to the people standing right next to me. (I did *not* chase him down for a photo. I'm not a Dobbs fan; I don't even have cable.)
So here's my mediocre photo of Lou Dobbs, for you spoonreader fans who are also avid celebrity watchers
Anne Rice on Her Body of Work
I read Anne Rice's book Interview with the Vampire when I was about 14. My sister had read it after Sting's song "Moon over Bourbon Street," which was inspired by the novel. The book made a huge impression on me, to the point that when the Queen of the Damned came out, my high school friends and I read the introduction aloud to each other, and thought we were the coolest. ("I am the Vampire Lestat," it begins. "I'm immortal. More or less. ...") I was a bit of a Goth during that period, in case you were wondering, and I've still got a good bit of Goth in me. I no longer wear black eyeliner, however.
I was thinking of all this recently because Anne Rice has a fascinating post on her website about her body of work, both pre- and post-vampires. She wrote many, many books about vampires, witches and other occult phenomena. I read a lot of them -- most but not all -- and some of them were really good. But to me, her books dropped off in quality significantly as the years went on, or maybe I just lost interest.
Recently, though, Rice went through a conversion experience, returned to her Catholic faith, and decided to devote herself to writing about the life of Christ -- in the first person. Not an easy task, I'm sure. The first book came out last year, "Christ: Out of Egypt." It was like a wonderful return to form -- gripping and interesting and moving and well-done, just like the old vampire books. So count me in as a fan of both her new and old work.
Interestingly, Anne Rice posted to her web site recently defending her "dark fiction." I'm going to point you to the site and let you read it yourself; it's worth reading in its entirety. She also discusses her conception of art, the way she views her own success, and her defense of plot and action. (Though you'll have to scroll down past her endorsement of Hillary Clinton.) Here's one her key points, to my way of thinking:
Read her entire essay here. (Warning, her web site features music that will start when you click onto her web page.)
I was thinking of all this recently because Anne Rice has a fascinating post on her website about her body of work, both pre- and post-vampires. She wrote many, many books about vampires, witches and other occult phenomena. I read a lot of them -- most but not all -- and some of them were really good. But to me, her books dropped off in quality significantly as the years went on, or maybe I just lost interest.
Recently, though, Rice went through a conversion experience, returned to her Catholic faith, and decided to devote herself to writing about the life of Christ -- in the first person. Not an easy task, I'm sure. The first book came out last year, "Christ: Out of Egypt." It was like a wonderful return to form -- gripping and interesting and moving and well-done, just like the old vampire books. So count me in as a fan of both her new and old work.
Interestingly, Anne Rice posted to her web site recently defending her "dark fiction." I'm going to point you to the site and let you read it yourself; it's worth reading in its entirety. She also discusses her conception of art, the way she views her own success, and her defense of plot and action. (Though you'll have to scroll down past her endorsement of Hillary Clinton.) Here's one her key points, to my way of thinking:
Much could be said, and has been said, about all of my works. I would like to say that the one thing which unites them is the theme of the moral and spiritual quest. A second theme, key to most of them, is the quest of the outcast for a context of meaning, whether that outcast is an 18th century castrato opera singer, or a young boy of mixed blood coming of age in ante-bellum New Orleans, or a person forced into a monstrous predatory existence like the young vampire, Lestat. For me, these themes are inherently significant and noble themes. They are worthy of exploration; they are evocative; they can and do reflect the deepest questions that humans face.
Read her entire essay here. (Warning, her web site features music that will start when you click onto her web page.)
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