Monday, September 30, 2024

thirty-ninth week

I'm still feeling the pull towards Emily Dickinson and exploring as many of her facets as possible, which, of course, involves her relationship with her dear friend and later sister-in-law Susan. There could be no better way to begin than with their correspondence, edited by Ellen Louise Hart and Martha Nell Smith under the title Open Me Carefully: Emily Dickinson's Intimate Letters to Susan Huntington Dickinson. Reading through this vivid material consisting of letters, poems and letter-poems, it's challenging not to wonder how different our current knowledge and view of Emily Dickinson would be if Susan had been the one to prepare her poems for publication rather than Mabel Loomis Todd — a woman who never met the poet, worked to a very personal agenda and, worst of all, was willing to compromise.

[…] I've made a retreat to my own little chamber, there with affection, and you, I will spend this precious hour, most precious of all the hours which dot my flying days, and the one so dear, that for it I barter everything, and as soon as it is gone, I am sighing for it again.


May I confess something? I've long harboured a desire to be a writer, but have never had the courage to embark on this course; instead, I've passed the past 26 years wrestling and juggling with other people's words… while leading a fantasy existence as an author in my mind. As my two main influences in this intentional delusion are Patti Smith and Simone de Beauvoir, when I happened upon a booklet from Yale University Press's "Why I Write" collection called Devotion by Patti Smith, how could I possibly resist? Her autobiographical writing always offers her reader a privileged place at her side as she meanders quasi-mystically through the world, capturing images, impressions, inspirations, then weaving them into a richly creative life. It was fascinating to see, over the course of these few pages, how elements encountered here and there can combine to create a work of fiction. I must admit that although I didn't enjoy the resulting story, the process, added to the photographs and handwritten facsimile included in this little volume, was absolutely riveting

Most often the alchemy that produces a poem or a work of fiction is hidden within the work itself, if not embedded in the coiling ridges of the mind.


I seem to be drawn to stories about socially awkward clever girls these days, of which there now appear to be many more than when I was a lass. After enjoying A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson [LINK week 10: https://the-hollow-girl.blogspot.com/2024/03/tenth-week.html] a few months ago, and while I wait for my holds on the sequels to come in, I borrowed the series' very short prequel, Kill Joy. This was so much fun to read! Pip and her friends attend a murder mystery dinner organized to celebrate Connor's birthday. It's all a game, of course — but she can't help being her earnest self, taking copious notes and questioning every single detail. (I was reminded of the rather unsuccessful attempt at a similar event a group of friends and I put together during our first Christmas break in college; it wasn't nearly as sophisticated, and ultimately we just gave up and listened to music while we waited for our lifts home.) This was a very entertaining read with an original plot, and it provided what I think is an important piece of the puzzle when it comes to explaining Pip's motivation in later choosing the Andie Bell murder as her senior project. 


Speaking of Holly Jackson's series, this week I watched its Netflix adaptation, also called "A Good Girl's Guide to Murder." To tell the truth, I wasn't really impressed by the first episode and almost gave up on it, but don't regret persevering. It's so good!


Cela peut paraître un peu étrange, mais même si j'apprécie certains balados qui traitent de crimes réels, je n'avais encore jamais exploré ceux produits au Québec. C'est pourquoi je découvre «Captives» légèrement sur le tard… Chaque épisode se compose de deux segments, où Annie Laurin et Michèle Ouellette se racontent l'une l'autre avec empathie, respect et humilité l'histoire d'un meurtre, d'une mort mystérieuse ou d'une disparition irrésolue qui remonte parfois à bien loin. Pleinement conscientes du poids de leurs paroles et de la portée potentielle de leur balado, elles y remplissent un devoir de mémoire hélas trop fréquemment négligé par notre société. Il existe aussi un livre qui présente treize cas inédits et que je lirai sans doute bientôt.