Christian Molenaar

Tag: close reading

  • Late Season

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    Stay yet, pale flower, though coming storms will tear thee,My soul grows darker, and I cannot spare thee. Read more

  • The Torment of Another’s Grief

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    After a Canzoni by Pound, After a Ballata by Dante Ezra Pound might be stalking me from the past. Read more

  • Easter, 2025

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    I have met them at close of dayComing with vivid facesFrom counter or desk among greyEighteenth-century houses.I have passed with a nod of the headOr polite meaningless words,Or have lingered awhile and saidPolite meaningless words,And thought before I had doneOf a mocking tale or a gibeTo please a companionAround the fire at the club,Being certain Read more

  • A Mute Goes Aboard a Boat on the Mississippi

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    At sunrise on a first of April, there appeared, suddenly as Manco Capac at the lake Titicaca, a man in cream-colors, at the water-side in the city of St. Louis. Read more

  • Amoebas

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    I grew up with the piano, I learned its language while I learned to speak. Read more

  • Not Unlike a River

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    “Et huiusmodi stantiae usus est fere in omnibus cantionibus suisArnaldus Danielis et nos eum secuti sumus.”Dante, De Vulgari Eloquio, II. 10. Read more

  • Talismans

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    In Buenos Aires the Zahir is a common twenty-centavo coin into which a razor or penknife has scratched the letters N T and the number two; the date stamped on the face is 1929. (In Gujarat, at the end of the eighteenth century, Zahir was a tiger; in Java a blind man in the Sukarta Read more

  • El Día de los Difuntos

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    Towards sunset on the Day of the Dead in November 1939, two men in white flannels sat on the main terrace of the Casino drinking anís. Read more

  • Soon We’ll Be Eating

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    The longest word in the Greek language is λοπαδο­τεμαχο­σελαχο­γαλεο­κρανιο­λειψανο­δριμυπο­τριμματο­σιλφιο­καραβομελιτο­κατα­κεχυμενο­κιχλεπικοσσυφοφαττο­περιστεραλεκτρυονοπτο­κεφαλλιο­κιγκλοπελειο­λαγῳοσιραιο­βαφητραγανο­πτερύγων. Read more

Thought:

“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.”

Jane Austen

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