This has been a week for the books. When it started the radiator in my apartment was still on at least part of the time and it could be recommended that you wear a few layers when you go out. At the end of the week it's windows open and run the fan weather, and I was walking around today in a Hawaiian shirt and no jacket.
Maybe the earlier weather would have been more apt for reading Herman Melville's Piazza Tales. He is a somewhat autumnal author. But he contains multitudes.
Melville of course first became known as a writer of nautical adventure, although he didn't really see himself that way. The only nautical story I've read in this book is the eerie slave ship novella "Benito Cereno." Other tales do have their journeys, but they tend to be more internal.
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Having the weather go from cool, or cold, to very warm seems to have been going on in a number of places around the northern hemisphere this spring. Around here we still haven't had the thermometer go over 58° while strong winds and frequent rain continue to irritate our usual sunny dispositions. I'm glad somebody got to wear their Hawaiian shirt.
Although I'm familiar with the titles of several of his books the only one of Melville's I've read was Moby Dick, a most magnificent work. I've discovered some interesting details from his life in a brief online bio, particularly that when he became a close friend of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Melville's original plan for Moby Dick underwent a major transformation. It would be fascinating to know just how different the novel turned out to be.
Speaking of an autumnal writer, have you ever heard of Bonhoeffer and his Theory of Stupidity? Maybe you've seen the video but, if not, I'm guessing you'll enjoy it too.
So far things have steadied into this being late May weather. High spring, that is. There've been a few days that have really felt like summer, though. And yeah, it's nice to at least have short-sleeved shirts on-hand for that. Wonder how things have been developing there. You've got those plants on your balcony.
Moby Dick is a fascinating book. Readers may have been expecting another maritime adventure like he'd become known for. The novel is exciting, but it's not straightforward. There's a lot which is very obviously symbolism, and perhaps that's Hawthorne's influence making itself known. There are also a lot of weird tangents.
That was a good thumbnail bio of Diedrich Bonhoeffer, and I hadn't known that he was hanged just a couple of weeks before the concentration camp was liberated. I think he had a point that stupidity can't be reduced to mental deficiency.
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