Today my catalog of books hit 700 (its now at 702). The 700th book was The Collectors by David Baldacci, a signed first edition first printing.
Including a signed copy of Myra Beckinridge by Gore Vidal (1968), [1st ed.] from a used book seller in Beverly Hills (from the Northridge Public Library). I had read about Vidal, he seemed very frail, and it was cheaper having library marks. In a way that makes it more interesting, how many sat reading this very book spilling gin . . . one of those famed 20th century titles . . .
Not that I have even cracked it, I just finished a fine Simenon (3 Bedrooms In Manhattan). It was my light read while attempting Pynchon's weighty AGAINST THE DAY, which is enthralling. The new light -only in that is its not physically as heavy as the Pynchon -- -- paperback is INSECT POETICS, about bugs in literature. A fascinating chapter on ants v. bees in Vergil's AENEID. Ants plunder while bee's produce (find a dead beetle or rotting apple opposed to buzzing flower to flower and creating honey). Ants administrate (ROMANS); bee's create . . . .
A picture I took last summer:
Bees fly in splendor and brightness, ants, well are underground burrowing.
There was a non bug statement that I liked as well: Augustus took Rome from a city of brick to a city of marble.
from ugly Caterpillar to beautiful butterfly . . . where is Gregor Samsa? gone buggy. [next is a chapter on performing insects featuring a flea circus, I hope to learn how the little devils were trained ]
ah for the joys of summer...
;-)
