S W O O N D: marley was dead, to begin with.

11.29.2007

marley was dead, to begin with.

I know. You have it memorized. At least to the line: Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

And you undoubtedly recall that Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol in six weeks in 1843. But did you know (I didn't) that when the original manuscript was returned after printing, Dickens arranged for it to be finely bound in red morocco leather and presented the volume as a gift to his solicitor? In the 1890s, Pierpont Morgan purchased the bound manuscript. And now - right now - visitors to The Morgan Library & Museum can see said original manuscript in the rotunda of the museum's McKim Building. It will be on view from November 20 - January 6. This post is sorta a bookend post to the LAST post - with nothing in between. Lame.

Oh, a couple more things. Consider the characters from A Christmas Carol. Do you identify with Ebenezer Scrooge? Jacob Marley's Ghost? Mr. &/or Mrs. Fezziwig? Bob Cratchit? Fred, Scrooge's nephew? Belle, Scrooge's ex-fiancée? Tiny Tim? Any of the three apparitions?

My answer: Yes. What's yours?

One more. Favorite screen portrayal of Ebenezer Scrooge?

My answer: Mr. Magoo.

What's yours?

the world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.

- w. b. yeats

sounds travel through space long after their wave patterns have ceased to be detectable by the human ear: some cut right through the ionosphere and barrel on out into the cosmic heartland, while others bounce around, eventually being absorbed into the vibratory fields of earthly barriers, but in neither case does the energy succumb; it goes on forever - which is why we, each of us, should take pains to make sweet notes.

- tom robbins

the same dream returned each night until i dared not to go to sleep and grew quite ill. i dreamed i had a child, and even in the dream i saw it was my life, and it was an idiot, and i ran away. but it always crept onto my lap again, clutched at my clothes. until i thought, if i could kiss it, whatever in it was my own, perhaps i could sleep. and i bent to its broken face, and it was horrible . . . but i kissed it. i think one must finally take one's life in one's arms.

- arthur miller, after the fall

YIN AND JUNG

who looks outside, dreams;

who looks inside, awakes.

everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves.

when we must deal with problems, we instinctively resist trying the way that leads through obscurity and darkness. we wish to hear only of unequivocal results, and completely forget that these results can only be brought about when we have ventured into and emerged again from the darkness. but to penetrate the darkness we must summon all the powers of enlightenment that consciousness can offer.

- carl jung, the stages of life