God søndag og velkommen til nye smakebiter!
I dag er barnebarnet mitt her og vi skal prøve å få sett noe av den delvise solformørkelsen i dag. Jeg var akkurat ute og tittet og da var det skyer foran solen, så vi får følge med om skyene flytter litt på seg.
Jeg leser fremdeles serien om Clara Wahl. I Norge kaller vi slike bøker serieromaner, kiosklitteratur og husmorporno. Ikke så vakre navn, og den type litteratur har svært lav status. Hva kaller man dem i Sverige?
Tidligere fant en ingen slike serier på biblioteket, men det har endret seg. Hos oss har vi en 10-15 serier, og nabobibliotekene våre omtrent det samme antall, bare andre serier. Så sender vi serier oss imellom etter behov. Jeg har tidligere lest Margit Sandemo, som også kommer inn under dette begrepet, og en annen serie av Natalie Normann som har skrevet Clara Wahl. Men det er alt, så jeg tenkte at dette var et område jeg trengte å sette meg bedre inn i.
Men jeg leser andre bøker innimellom, og nå er jeg nettopp ferdig med The Cat Who Saved Books av Sosuke Natsukawa. Så den skal du få smakebit fra:
Books can’t live your life for you. The reader who forgets to walk on his own two feet is like an old encyclopaedia, his head stuffed with out-of-date information. Unless someone else opens it up, it’s nothing but a useless antique.
I think the power of books is that – that they teach us to care about others. It’s a power that gives people courage and also supports them in turn. [. . .] Empathy – that’s the power of books
Ver observante når de nyttar dei sterkaste verkemidla i språket. Det sa eg alltid til elevane mine. Nyttar de dei for mykje, då mister dei krafta si. Men, la eg til, ver heller ikkje så tørre at de aldri nyttar dei.
I like libraries. It makes me feel comfortable and secure to have walls of words, beautiful and wise, all around me. I always feel better when I can see that there is something to hold back the shadows.
I wish it need not have happened in my time,» said Frodo.
I am often reminded how a small fire underneath a vast sky can bind people together like nothing else. For all that we are social creatures, we are too often shoved into solitary confinement by circumstance. The color of our skin isn’t like everyone else’s, or our language is different, or our religion isn’t the one that gets us invited to dinner by the neighbors. That last one has kept me alone for a long, long time.
Pain is energy. It lights us. This is the most basic premise of our life. Hunger makes us eat. Tiredness causes us to sleep. Pain makes us avenge.
What I should be doing was the same thing everyone should be doing: enjoying the blessings I have while I have them, instead of worrying that one day they will be gone.
Monty Python is like catnip for nerds. Once you get them started quoting it, they are constitutionally incapable of feeling depressed.
What I felt was a kind of thrilling sadness, something I have since experienced when looking out over other open spaces and lonely boundaries: an emotion that lives on the desolate edge of the known.
Now you will feel no rain