Aspects of Literature, book !

A brittle child as me would study something a sort, and yet sought it hard to assimilate what he read! The whole book’s about what the hell in essence? I hath yet not learned. The title “aspects of literature”.. so not a book a non-literature fella might be fond of. But well, one engaged in perusal must be capable to derive and produce knowledge. The dumb-heads are here where they struck off. To pucker out my recreation from it and what i remembers is that its something about soaking the soggy leaves soaked in criticism on criticism. Lol. Well, ya’ know that they wanted to pre-mode you with the understanding what criticism is? May be hell yeah its function and the purpose it serves and the kinds like literary criticism, philosophical criticism, and then there was one another name.  Ah! All i’ve t’ say its a good damn thingy to slit and pluck out what ya’ find queer. Thats criticism :v . I mean palease, let the author rest in peace. RIP :3 . Your lures, ooops i could not cure. The hingy brains when stuck up, and grab hold of what rambles in the fists and gives a nimble in the tongue.. there you’re good to go. Go go! Criticise! Yosh! Nay, that i am sliding aside my homework to write this review, that would be awfully awful.. and ahm that is. Justy that me found some contractions of mine shades in goody semblance with Keats that he is such a fanatic mitigated with sense that ‘no more wonder at wonders’. And pooh what dear sorrows L ..says Keats:

‘Of all external things, they saw me not,’

Opsy, ..lol anyone out there with friends that tend to ignore you.. smash it yeah in Keatsian style. Yo! Binge it at their face. . this phrase. It’ll venge out thy pains (Y) .

Of Keats something remarkable is said ah well that struck me quirk .. ‘the “vision of Moneta” is the culminating point of Keat’s evolution.’ ‘Moneta was to him the discovered spirit of reality; her vision was the vision of necessity itself. In her, joy and pain, life and death, compassion and indifference, vision and blindness are one; she is the external abode to contraries... ’ (-extract from book). ‘He, too, is the prey to contraries.’ ‘...the quality with which saturated, the calm and various light of united contraries.’ The juxtaposition of this concept with ourselves, we the modern man struck in same strokes we feel. But he marked it the mirror of his diety, ..we summon it’s a monster lol.

Then on very essential grounds its stroked what poetry is and what poetry is today? The insipid and curing mentions of the beauty that marked in how the author works-out ‘what poetry is’ is marvel-bound. My haste here is telling me brief you and then depart to some engagement that’ll need me. And that’s none other than dinner lol. And then you see ‘a one man show’ like Hardy the author produces his notes of expression, than Ronsard, Tchehov, and a lil of criticism from Coleridge’s angle. Lol, whatelse you wanna know go grab a book bunchy moron and stop waiting for miracles of knowledge to fall on you :3 . It won’t happen, unless you get the hell of your sluggishness and procrastination.

Jumpy up!

Yo!

The book’s:

Aspects of Literature,

J. Middleton Murray

http://www.online-literature.com/george_eliot/mill_floss/9/

The Mill on the Floss e-read :P

Half a loaf- a parable

http://www.landscapesmag.com/teachers/lessonplans/Environmental%20Journal.pdf

You can find it at the above link.

Quarrel Scene :( -_-

Goody goody! a bad episode reminds of a bad episode of life then, ay literature?
~Quarrel scene in 'the mill on the floss'

Is that a review or discharge of 'motion ? o.O

Now if you believe that there's an instinct desire to be keener and be loved by nature. Its unfolding seasons and -the liberty to gawk at it for hours or fancy to hath our intermittent heart embraced by its vaults. This flick of sentiment, the flakes of my h'art so apprehend! Unannounced, the nature takes no confession.  Just a rudimentary bow as of a curious brow, suffice it whole. Today's weather (peculiarly) ascended those stuffed apertures, and recommendation to a read just as ideal to time.. slammed the vigor with a thud. Our teacher, today suggested a short-story titled "The Pedestrian" by Ray Bradbury. The protagonist sounds like a personality just another me, lol. Mead, ..Leonard Mead. Thats his name. So fond of walks. Walks along the sidewalk in those nights frosty or haughty. And just as he ~i would thumbs-up at his choice of sneakers that it may not arouse dogs with a bark~ ..just as he does so! But here if i may be allowed to get a little personal on the story.. may reminisce and score it out in words. My own experience on a loney walk :v . That day, the decorum of day was so low and riveted with my esteem and spirits that i was plunging down and dashed down -unable to hold up. Dinner hardly gulped in each loaf. And then the temperature of moods was in a row with empiricism. Credit to my sis for striking on the idea for going out for ice-cream. 'Cause i might have devoured myself if action of state were to be otherwise.. maybe like the sphinx of Oedipus Rex :v . Well, yeah ice-cream, though we all others protested that we were full. Afterall we just had dinner. But my nice sister always have space, or rather say a separate cabinet in her tummy ,,for ice-cream :D . By way to whisper you aside, her diet is that of a fowl :v . So, coming to point though just a personal vent to take staff of literature, okay so once i am into boots, its no distance b/w me and walk. Ah! I don't have sneakers :'( . Anyways I slouched downstairs vouching meanwhile that 'Hey, i am leaving'. Yeah they were going to join me up sooner. So, this walk was decided upon to make some space in our tummies lol. I ventured alone on the stony road trying to decipher who's more alone now? Road or me? I like the feeling -to be by yourself. Away from all the mess of life. Just as a road took to juxtaposition of straight and a turn wriggling left. Ah! i was left with the vision to turn left. And so I did.. thinking that turn was more neater that the straight lane. But at a yard's length, i sensed a foul stench and ew i just couldn't bear. This road hath a division each for a one-sided traffic. I slumped to turn to that other-sided traffic lane. And just two steps in that lane, ..-from bushes aside barked a figure at so abrupt a stand, that i was struck aghast. Frozen at that point for that minute. I didn't expected that afterall. Then i yelled and shrieked at the top of my voice calling dad- no other name. And rushed in havoc to my own lane but hey that beast, his steps roared behind me you know. I ran. Trying to run faster than a beast eh? :v Ouch, and do you know that dogs have strong smelling sense. Actually when we are in fear, a certain hormone is released in our body, and dogs can sense that.. that is why he will rush and chase after a fearful brat. And I knew this fact at that moment. But what utility knowledge comes to? Knowledge didn't saved me at that moment. And to your shock dear audience i didn't ran long, i couldn't.. 'cause i bumped into that construction-cement piled up by the road and fell blindly in that dark night.

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Haha, don't mind these dots please. So, what happened? Well- you see there were two men on a bike ..i was totally unconcious of that. All i heard when i fell was that there was some foreign voice telling me "It's fine. All's fine." I was devastated at that moment, so i didn't understood. All i was struggling to do was to rise up and run to my home.
Ummmm.... what happened next??? Weeeellll, I don't know.. 'cause its a fiction guys. Don't take it to heart :v . Or if its not, thats not on me to dispel. So, coming back to review which i was not doing -doing in the customary standard way. The way i was doing.. is not unjustified if you demand, as a person would. The literature flicker that shade of life.. and by some shade that i found i smeared it to literature. The purpose' very much done.
Umm, what then the story of 'the pedestrian' is? Its plot? ...and blah blah blah... Then go grab it up and read on your comfy bed or chair or a stony floor ain't bad a choice either :D ... and well, not to miss Mr. and Missus to create a story outta it. Afterall, thats what literature is, in the true essence. ;)

Cheers~  

Prepared for a battle but with a few doubts

Like the story begins, plain as is.. Paulo's style.. which rumbles upon my conception as too plain to attract! And when I read his biography about 3 years ago when a teacher of mine recommended him as one of great authors of contemporary age, i was led curious into browsing his biography the very day. His religious affiliations, ah if i trust my memory now, was that he was a Jew and then an orthodox Christian. This inspiration, i was not led sparked and stirred to read him up. There was no charge. More than his spirits, his writing assembles plain notes .. may be 'cause there is nothing tragical about it or him. And the charge mostly lays in tragedy or superfluous humor. And his' is mere contemplation. As for taste, maybe that is why i feel unimpressed by him. But thumbs up for his productivity and contemplation.
So, I was reading his short-stories collection, that a friend of mine gifted me. His preface was interesting. Hehe. And now, upon this short-story "Prepared for a battle but with a few doubts". The title gives that like its going to rage a war against some ideology. Something shaken violently. Starting, 'real plain'. May be 'cause its the translation, ..that is why i can't feel the music? Then well, he comes to demonstrate the presence of physicalities about him including himself. Eh, the spear he's holding.. the illustration of words made me develop its analogy to evil spirt/ or devil in "Tom & Jerry"  show. Haha. The child-like comparative analysis of a child-like work? Now post-modernism? ...should i apply-?
He is like in a search for God. His quest. He seeks. He so speaks. But the wonderings to me seem to have little novelty. I do not know why are other fellows so thoroughly impressed by him. Or may be that my nature in being mesmerised and fascinated more in discovery (of authors and works) than in perusal? Haha. Or that am I prejudiced by my certain judgemental notions that I developed the very day i read his biography. Well, such notions easily come by. I have a good experience by that :v . Well, let me make one more point. That if the recommendation is what turns me off, then why would i read the authors as recommended of our course: 'Jane Austin', and 'Charles Dickens' -their atleast one more work-? And Now Thomas Hardy, is one more score of a bastard to make an impression.
Cool! you keep yours , i keep mine. Well, nothing's that can be done of anyways!

~So, now up to next of his short-story. Haha, I want to discover why i can't help liking him. 

Beloved by Toni Morrison

So, the initial lines proceeded up to few pages gave me the idea this is --- Ah well, but before that, i struck upon some link.. a paper's abstract contemplating and pondering on the 'red' that fumbled into frequent useage in the work. Red- danger, blood, romantic love? Just what it means? There is much figuring to be done. And it's the first time I struck upon the scheme that the author may employ colors as codes in his work. So, these points were enough to plunge me into curiosity. So, the next thing every curious person does is nay not stumble upon, but choose that for a reading. The sordid, and the dark aspect of it.. i wanted to discover it of my own discretion. So, i began reading this work: "Beloved" by Toni Morrison. The title aspires some dedication by indication or by spirits. So, the spirits are always urged into pursuing fellow beings. But I was disappointed. Not may be the negroes aspect of it; for the language of Africans, and more than that it was US, and I am toned into the habit of UK works. And then the confusion whether it was a narrator, or the character that were speaking. At some points it was hard to detect. Though to tell you, i am implanting the same tech- in my fiction work ..hehe. To a paranormal degree blending the spirit of narrator and narration.. to the point that narrator and character becomes as one, and then they part, and then they unite again. Real odd, eh? Haha. But its interesting, my fiction piece to my impression. Lol, now i am reviewing Toni's work or my own? Ok, so the click point that put me to a halt to proceed with reading was the purging romance of indiscreet sort. And thereby summed up, my brief review ends here.

If you struck up some interesting read, recommend me too. It would be a pleasure. But hey, my spirits enjoy more in the discovery of it than its perusal ! Hehe.

Cheers~

P.S
And oh, please don't mind my queer writing style.