BOOKS FOR SALE
I'm selling some of my old books to help heal my wallet and to make way for new books. Please text or email me at nayav@yahoo.com if you'd like to buy one of them. Unahan na lang 'to. (Huwag nyo na akong pagalitan for the local books on the list... matinding pangangailangan lang.) Salamat!
SOLD! Charles Simic, The Voice at 3 a.m.: Selected Poems, P400 --- hardbound, hefty collection for those looking for a Simic sampler.
SOLD! Denise Levertov, New and Selected Essays, P350 --- helpful to both writers and readers of poetry. She has essays on other poets (Sexton, Rilke, Eliot, Williams, Robert Duncan), on poetry in relation to politics and peace, on her dislike of the confessional mode, and very helpful essays on the function of line breaks, stanza spaces, and other aspects of prosody.
SOLD! Sharon Olds, The Gold Cell, P300 --- her third collection of poems (1995), also one of her strongest. The first 11 poems tackle such random urban subjects as abandoned babies and the Pope's penis; the next section, which contains the powerful "I Go back to May 1937," explores parental issues; the next 14 poems, along with my favorite "Cambridge Elegy," are about sex and love; and the last section contains some of the most tender poems about children from a mother's point of view.
SOLD! Rainer Maria Rilke, P300 --- this handy and hardbound Everyman's Library Pocket Poets edition has a good selection for the Rilke neophyte: the entire Duino Elegies, and selections from Sonnets to Orpheus, The Book of Images, French Poems, Life of Mary, and Letters to a Young Poet. Translations by Stephen Spender and J.B. Leishman.
- Randall Jarrell, The Complete Poems, P300 --- the poet who wrote "Bats," "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner" and my favorite "90 North" was once called the most heartbreaking poet of his generation. This thick book contains 471 pages of his poetry collections as well as unpublished poems and translations of Rilke.
SOLD! Yehuda Amichai, A Life of Poetry: 1948-1994, P300 --- Ted Hughes calls Amichai "the poet whose books I open most often, most often take on a journey, most often return to." This collection contains 469 pages of this paradox-loving Hebrew poet's work, including "Forgetting Someone": Forgetting someone is like/ Forgetting to turn off the light in the yard,/ It stays on all day:/ And that means also remembering--/ By the light.
- Ayn Rand, The Art of Nonfiction: A Guide for Writers and Readers, P300 --- In 1969, Ayn Rand gave a series of informal lectures to a select group of friends and associated on creating effective nonfiction, from "Applying Philosophy without Preaching It" to "Book Reviews and Introductions" to "Writing a Book."
SOLD! Adrienne Rich, Fox: Poems 1998-2000, P280 --- one of my first favorite poets at her most fragmented and difficult, stretching her old themes: "the discourse between poetry and history, interlocutions within and across gender, dialogues between poets and visual artists, human damages and dignity, and the persistence of utopian visions."
SOLD! Charles Baudelaire, Paris Spleen, P250 ---translated by Louise Varese, these 50 wonderful prose poems seem more mature than those in Flowers of Evil, though they deal with the same themes. From "Crowds": "Multitude, solitude: identical terms, and interchangeable by the active and fertile poet. The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd."
SOLD! Steven Lynn, Texts & Contexts: Writing About Literature with Critical Theory, P200 --- helpful if you're a Lit student or teacher. There are separate chapters on the different approaches (New Criticism, Reader Response, Deconstructive, Psychological, Feminist, Biographical, New Historical), and helpful sections per chapter (The Purpose of, How to Do, Sample Essay, Practicing).
SOLD! Jamake Highwater, The Language of Vision: Meditations on Myth and Metaphor, P200 --- surprisingly intelligent and eclectic, this hardbound book's 22 chapters are organized around the 22 major arcana cards of the Tarot deck and the topics they inspire in Highwater: the image of the homosexual as outlaw, cultural piracy in a time of multiculturalism, imagination as political power, etc.
SOLD! Margaret Atwood, Lady Oracle, P200 --- one of Atwood's best and funniest novels, where the bored wife of a myopic ban-the-bomber secretly becomes the writer of Gothic romances and fakes her own death. This copy even has an interview by Publishers Weekly and questions for group discussion.
- The American Poetry Anthology, edited by Daniel Halpern, P200 --- published in 1975, this contains good and early selections from Stephen Dunn, Robert Hass, Michael Harper, Thomas Lux, Lawrence Raab, Michael RYan, James Tate, AI, Charles Simic, and others.
SOLD! Strong Measures: Contemporary American Poetry in Traditional Forms, edited by Philip Dacey and David Jauss, P200 --- published in 1986, this is a good resource if you're into traditional forms like villanelles, sestinas, kyrielles, rispettos, etc. There's a foreword by Richard Wilbur, an introduction talking about 9 methods of experimentation with form, a helpful appendix on meter and scansion, and plenty of poems by people like Ashbery, Creeley, Levertov, Merwin, Ted Kooser, James Wright and Frank O'Hara.
* * *
BOOKS BY FILIPINO POETS: Nakakakita (pa) ba kayo ng mga kopya nito sa bookstores? Hindi? Bili na!
SOLD! Marjorie E. Pernia, Dreamweavers: Selected Poems 1976-1986, P300 --- 34 poems, divided into 5 sections: Birth, Daughters, Women Voices, Wise Women, and Pintadas. Limited signed copy, hand sewn. Back when she still used her married name.
- Alfrredo Navarro Salanga, Turtle Voices in Uncertain Weather: Poems 1980-1988, P250 --- I love this book's title. He takes his inspiration from news reports, rumors, friends' comments, and history. Edited by Virgilio Almario with introductions by Alfred Yuson and Isagani Cruz. 278 pages.
- Ma. Luisa Aguilar-Carino, Cartography: A Collection of Poetry on Baguio, P200 -- has 4 sections, 2 of which are the Palanca award-winning Configuring the Gods and Other Poems, and Disclosures.
- Ricardo de Ungria, Nudes, P200 --- this excellent collection needs no introduction. An old copy, but well worth it.
- Oliver de la Paz, Names Above Houses, P200 --- one of the better Fil-Am poets. Published by Southern Illinois University Press, this sequence of prose poems "creates the legend of Fidelito--a boy whose yearning to fly becomes a metaphor for immigration, sexual awakening, religious passion, and the imagination of a poet-in-the-making....Through Fidelito, de la Paz weaves the odysseys of Jesus and Icarus into a lush and wonderful wanderlust." (blurb by Denise Duhamel)
- Eileen Tabios, Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole, P200 --- another intriguing title. This Fil-Am and former banker's prose poems are combustible, lush, sharp, erotic, experimental. Published by Marsh Hawk Press NY in 2002, this is a signed copy.
SOLD! Am Here: Contemporary Filipino Writing in English, The Literary Review Vol. 43 No. 3 Spring 2000, P150 -- with an introduction by Bino Realuyo and poems by John Labella, Marc Gaba, Eric Gamalinda, etc.
SOLD! Fatima Lim-Wilson, Crossing the Snow Bridge, P180
SOLD! Fatima Lim-Wilson, Wandering Roots / From the Hothouse, P180
* * *
OTHER BOOKS BELOW P200:
SOLD! Alan Lightman, Einstein's Dreams, P150
SOLD! Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body, P150
- Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, P150
- Diane Ackerman, Jaguar of Sweet Laughter: New and Selected Poems, P150
SOLD! Julia Alvarez, Homecoming: New and Selected Poems, P150
- Julia Alvarez, The Other Side: Poems, P120
- Maxine Hong Kingston, The Woman Warrior, P120
- R.S. Thomas, Collected Poems, P120
- Anthony Burgess, Byrne, P100
Scent-sibilities (sabihin nyo nang mababaw, pero mahilig ako sa mabango)
1. I love smelling things: shampoos, newsprint, pencils, books. When I bought my Norton anthology of theory and criticism, Larry and I smelled the thin yellow pages and had a conversation that went something like this:
"It smells like another country."
"It smells like India."
"No, it smells like the memory of India."
"No, like the memory of shared afternoon tea on a porch in India."
2. Once I've smelled a perfume, I can recognize it on friends and strangers. Last sem, at the end of a class, I sniffed and asked "Did someone just spray on Gap Heaven?" A girl at the back of the room raised her hand.
3. The strangest smell-related compliment I ever received was at around 2 a.m. on a ledge in front of my old house: "You smell like my mother on a good day." Meaning, on a good day I smell like his mother, or I smell like his mother does on a good day? Either way, there are Oedipal issues there...
4. Between a guy who smells of nothing and a guy whose cologne smells light and heavenly, I'd choose the person who smells better. :p
* * *After taking my TOEFL and running Summit errands, I walked around Galleria and fell in love with this fairly new (one-month old) stall on the second floor called Scents Per Cent. Bottles of perfume are lined up per row, with glass cylinders in front of each that you can lift and sniff. If, like me, you get intimidated by department store perfume counters (and annoyed at the salespeople's pushiness), here you can sample and sniff to your nose's content without committing to buying anything.
There were the usual suspects: Clinique Happy, Estee Lauder Pleasures, CK Eternity and Obsession, Davidoff Cool Water (which I can't stand...let's just say there was this girl in high school...), the entire Lacoste line, most of them for both men and women. There were scents I'd been curious about: Issey Miyake, J. Lo Glow, and Curious by Britney Spears---which, by the way, reeks. And plenty of others. If not for this stall, I wouldn't have discovered 2 scents that I liked: Dolce & Gabbana's Light Blue, which smells like a breezy, blue-sky day at the end of summer; and Hugo Deep Red, which is subtly seductive, like dark velvet and stolen kisses behind a backstage curtain.
Anyway, the best part is, you can buy scents per ml (anywhere from P35-45/ml, though most I saw were P38/ml). The salesladies pour the perfume into a graduated cylinder and into a 5 or 10 ml spray bottle that could fit into your pocket---not that you'd want to be carrying perfume around in your pocket anyway.
But there are benefits to having pocket-sized scents.
1. I'm all for having a signature scent (I've been using Elizabeth Arden Green Tea since 2001, and it's never failed me---sistah, my pheromones!---but sometimes I get tired of it. Recently my real sister gave me the Spiced Green Tea variant, which I find too spicy, too clove-y and cardamom-y for my taste). But having alternatives in smaller sizes relieves the monotony and allows you to tailor your scent to the occasion, time of day or time of year.
2. Even if you like a scent on its own, there's no telling how it'll react to your body chemistry. Which explains why my sister's floral Anais Anais smells great on her but terrible on me. By buying a 5ml version of a scent, you can wear it for several weeks---enough time to gauge your own and other people's reactions to it, and to decide whether it's worth investing in a bigger bottle.
So, back to the stall. Both Light Blue and Deep red were P38/ml. If I got 5ml of a scent plus a 5ml spray bottle, it would cost me P225. I had enough money for one. Deciding between a scent that evoked innocence on edge and another that suggested experience (arbitrary extremes, of course, that date back to the first poetry book I ever bought when I was 14: Blake's Songs of Innocence and of Experience, but that's another story), I chose ... (cue Enigma's early 90's hit) innocence. Haha. Save the seduction for another day.
* * *
Since the entry above reads suspiciously like things I used to write for Preview, here's a fluff-y sidebar-worthy list:
Top 5 friends who smell good:
1. Anina, Happy Heart
2. BJ, Grey Flannel
3. Larry, Allure
4. Elmo, Desire Blue
5. Ruey, Liz Claiborne
* * *
From Diane Ackerman: "One of the real tests of writers, especially poets, is how well they write about smells. If they can't describe the scent of sanctity in a church, can you trust them to describe the suburbs of the heart?"
* * *
One of the better "smell" poems I've read:
The Cinammon Peeler's Wife
Michael Ondaatje
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.
Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under the rain gutters, monsoon.
Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbour to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler's wife.
I could hardly glance at you
before marriage
never touch you
- your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers...
When we swam once
I touched you in the water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
You climbed the bank and said
this is how you touch other women
the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume
and knew
what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.
You touched
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
peeler's wife. Smell me.
On Books and Balls
Last week, I was calmly reading Larry's copy of After Confession: Poetry as Autobiography, when my bedfellow Meta leapt onto the mattress, marched to my pillow, and crouched as if about to pee. In the few seconds that it took me to react and lift him, he had already relieved himself. Groaning, I peeled off the pillowcase and saw that the liquid had seeped into the foam. Possessed by the kiddie (or bayaw?) instinct to sniff at bodily excretions, I put my nose to it, and discovered that it wasn't the amonnia-ey smell of pee, but a stronger, muskier odor that reeked of male-ness.
As if it wasn't enough that I had CAT SPERM on my pillow, the next day Meta also sprayed on a few books on my bed (including Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water and Calvino's If on a Winter's Night a Traveler, which is Elmo's copy, uh-oh).
So yesterday I had Meta neutered.
I got to the vet at 7:10 (and no, I didn't sleep, as I've been sleeping at 5 a.m. every day now), wanting to take advantage of the free neutering services offered to the first 10 pets every first Saturday of the month. But there were already around 14 dogs and cats in cages and carriers lined up, and NO OWNERS. Either the pets were left there overnight, or people dropped them off on the way to work. I waited for the vet, trying to ignoring the overpowering smell of animal poop and fear. I placed Meta in a basket beside other cats. He arched his back and miaowed, not having seen that many cats in his adult life.
The vet arrived, wearing a loose polo with an orange cat and fish print. How obvious, I thought. Now if he'd been wearing a shirt with a dinosaur or Greek temple print maybe I'd have liked him better. I swear he tried to overcharge me; if I hadn't corrected him he'd have made me pay P1200 instead of the P800 fee for neutering male cats.
First he injected Meta's rump with anaesthesia, then plucked the tiny hairs off his (I mean Meta's) balls. He tied Meta's legs to the edges of the operating table (by this time poor Meta had stiffened, eyes wide with fear) then turned to me and said, Do you really want to see this.
I chickened out, stepping out of the room for 10 minutes. There was a muffled screech, then the vet came out carrying the basket with Meta slumped in it.
Will he be ok, I asked. He'll be fine by noon, the vet said, though he'll act a little drunk, bobbing his head like those dog figurines they sell on the street.
Sure enough, by 10 a.m. Meta's head was bobbing up and down, side to side. He climbed out of the basket and tried to walk, but his hind legs would not cooperate. He teetered and stumbled like an inebriated war veteran coming home at 2 a.m. I had to let him sleep on my (freshly washed) pillow.
His balls left tiny traces of blood in the morning. Otherwise, he's ok, sweet and lethargic as ever, less of a male but loved no less.
* * *
I'm taking a break from poetry, which has been letting me down. Lately I've been on a fiction binge, fascinated by narratives and motivations and how characters make or are trapped by their stories.
I've just finished reading:
- Like Life by Lorrie Moore, whose sad and tired characters remind me of Raymond Carver's, though they're wittier and more urban. I love her. I can't wait to read Birds of America.
- The Body Artist by Don De Lillo, which, uhm, bored me. Maybe I should try White Noise or Underworld?
- Bluebeard's Egg and Other Stories by Margaret Atwood, an old favorite
- The Lover by Marguerite Duras, which I reread before returning to Ron - The Gospel According to Jesus Christ by Jose Saramago, a witty and intelligent take on that old story
I'm currently reading:
- Karl Iagnemma, On the Nature of Human Romantic Interaction
- Cees Nooteboom, The Following Story
Lined up next are:
- J.M. Coetzee, Disgrace
- David Foster Wallace, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men
- Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
- Jose Saramago, Blindness
The following are novels and short story collections I want to read (gathered from the Salon.com Reader's Guide to Contemporary Authors that B left me 3 years ago) but have yet to borrow/buy. If you have a copy and are willing to lend me, please tell me!
- Paul Auster, The Music of Chance and The Invention of Solitude
- Ingeborg Bachmann, Malina
- A.S. Byatt, The Matisse Stories
- Penelope Fitzgerald, The Beginning of Spring and The Blue Flower
- John Fowles, The French Lieutenant's Woman
- David Grossman, The Book of Intimate Grammar (I'd read this if only for the title)
- Jonathan Lethem, As She Climbed Across the Table and Girl in Landscape
- Ian McEwan, The Child in Time and Amsterdam - Lorrie Moore, Birds of America and Self-Help
- Alice Munro, Open Secrets
- E. Annie Proulx, Postcards
- Anne Tyler, Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant
- Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Breakfast of Champions
- David Foster Wallace, Girl with Curious Hair
Any other suggestions? =)
Mismo!
Says Rilke, Mr. Woeful poet himself:O ancient curse of poets!
Being sorry for themselves instead of saying,
forever passing judgement on their feeling
instead of shaping it, forever thinking
that what is sad or joyful in themselves
is what they know and what in poems may fitly
be mourned or celebrated. Invalids,
using a language full of woefulness
to tell us where it hurts, instead of sternly
transforming into words those selves of theirs,
as imperturbable cathedral carvers
transposed themselves into the constant stone.
That would have been salvation. Had you once
perceived how fate may pass into a verse
and not come back, how, once in, it turns image,
nothing but image, but an ancestor
who sometimes, when you watch him in his frame,
seems to be like you and again not like you:---
you would have persevered.
translated by J. B. Leishman
Literary families
(L-R: Kuya Zivan, Ate Nessa, Papa, Mama, me, and Ate Nessa's boyfriend Roli)Here we are at my sister's flat after a sumptuous All Souls' Day dinner that included:green salad with grapes, feta cheese and Sicilian saucespaghetti with pesto sauceporkchops from Italianni'sgrilled chickenbaked tahong with garlicwhite winePepsi TwistNo wonder we're all (with the exception of my mother with the blessed genes and tiny appetite) getting, uhm, more substantial.* * * * *
If you could choose certain writers to be members of your own family (regardless of their age, era, or influence on you), who would these be? Off the top of my head, my list would include:mother: I was choosing between Adrienne Rich and Margaret Atwood, and decided to go for the darker, wittier, less militant Atwoodfather: Ray Bradbury (tingin ko magiging under si tatay kay nanay)siblings: Lorrie Moore, Angela Carter, Italo Calvino, Stephen Dunn, Kurt Vonnegutgrandparents: Wislawa Szymborska, J.R.R. Tolkien, Doris Lessingaunts and uncles: Paul Auster, Haruki Murakami, Marguerite Duras, Adrienne Richfavorite cousin: Anais NinWala lang.