While dithering over the alphabetization of double surnames I began to read; this keeps happening to me, the reading (though dithering moments occur often too).
Ivy C-B is the very first blogger. She had no internet but her whole mode of communication is by the spoken word alone. Every persona, every place, every emotion, every crisis, dilemma, horridness, kindness, disaster is told by speech.
Take Parents and Children,
"I suppose my thoughts are nothing to be proud of"
"Then they are different from the rest of you my dear".
We know at once we have a woman and her husband, a dissatisfied woman, and a husband fending off (with skill from experience) her dissatisfaction. Within a half dozen lines she has nine children, a very large house which belongs to her husband's parents, a mother in law not yielding position.....
The art of blogging is the creation of persona, and position without any of the tools used in real social exchange.
To post as Anonymous is to empty any post of interest, a random shout from the darkness, a worthless interjection from a non person.
All of Ivy's posters are bursting with life and reality. Must get back to these Parents now - the Children should be along any moment.
27/01/2007
Issue Desk
Everyone who arrives here with books must leave them on departure. Not work tools but books to while away the time.
The Library was founded when, noting that books were leaving with friends and that fervent promises to return them were unmet, it became the practice to warn before arrival that books could not leave, mine or theirs, once they were here.
Over the years there has been good nature and at times great generosity in the leaving of the books. There has been wit, illumination, excitement and surprise in both the books and their leavers (as well as occasional shame-facedness).
No book is turned away, or locked away, though some are shelved separately as too scary or violent for the unwary, reading perhaps alone or in a lonely room of the house.
I am the Trash Librarian, dilatory but aware of my duties to preserve and acquire. A few years ago one of the Girls provided a library stamp which has spaces for donor, date of acquisition, and serves as a bookplate. So all of this millenium's books are a record of friends' visits and times spent with them.
I wish I had thought of this sooner because while the more memorable - or inappropriate titles - can be attached to a giver, many cannot. After all, the house has been in the family since the late fifteen hundreds.
As I have time now to be diligent in my Librarianship, and as blogging invites contributions from virtual visitors, I thought there might be interest in the Library, and in the world in which it is set.
The Library was founded when, noting that books were leaving with friends and that fervent promises to return them were unmet, it became the practice to warn before arrival that books could not leave, mine or theirs, once they were here.
Over the years there has been good nature and at times great generosity in the leaving of the books. There has been wit, illumination, excitement and surprise in both the books and their leavers (as well as occasional shame-facedness).
No book is turned away, or locked away, though some are shelved separately as too scary or violent for the unwary, reading perhaps alone or in a lonely room of the house.
I am the Trash Librarian, dilatory but aware of my duties to preserve and acquire. A few years ago one of the Girls provided a library stamp which has spaces for donor, date of acquisition, and serves as a bookplate. So all of this millenium's books are a record of friends' visits and times spent with them.
I wish I had thought of this sooner because while the more memorable - or inappropriate titles - can be attached to a giver, many cannot. After all, the house has been in the family since the late fifteen hundreds.
As I have time now to be diligent in my Librarianship, and as blogging invites contributions from virtual visitors, I thought there might be interest in the Library, and in the world in which it is set.
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