One way to classify readers is by their choice of reading matter across time. Some are specialists. They read deeply but narrowly, only science fiction or the Latin classics in translation. That strategy is alien to me because by nature I’m an omnivore, moving from Henry James to John Simon’s film criticism to a field guide to Texas birds. I’m interested in too many things and an expert in none of them, forever in danger of becoming a dilettante. I seek pleasure in the books I read but also learning. Guy Davenport’s explanation for why he writes is the mirror image of why and how I read. In his introductory note to The Hunter Gracchus (1996) he says: “I am not writing for scholars or fellow critics, but for people who like to read, to look at pictures, and to know things.”
Another
reader like me is Marianne Moore. She was fond of assembling book lists and recommending
favorite writers and books in magazines and newspapers. She seems utterly
without snobbery, a common ailment among a certain sort of reader. An appendix in The Complete Prose of
Marianne Moore (ed. Patricia C. Willis, 1986) is devoted to “Booklists.” In the the nineteen-sixties, Moore contributed to a feature called “Books
I Have Liked” published in the New York
Herald Tribune Book Review (R.I.P. 1966). Here is her selection from the December
4, 1960 edition:
New Orleans (1959) by Oliver Evans; The Screens, and Other Poems (1960) by
I.A. Richards; Ezra Pound (1960) by
Charles Norman. I haven’t read any of these titles and only a small sample of
Richards’ other poetry.
Here is
Moore’s second contribution to “Books I Have Liked,” published December 5,
1961: La Fontaine: Poet and Counterpoet
(1961) by Margaret Guiton; Out of My
League (1961) by George Plimpton; Snake Man (1960) by Alan Wykes. All
of these books are unread, though I have read Moore’s translation of The Fables of La Fontaine (1954).
Finally, her
“Books I Have Liked” from December 2, 1962: Victory
Over Myself (1962) by Floyd Patterson and Milt Gross; The Heart to Artemis (1962) by Bryher; The Points of My Compass (1962) by E.B. White.
Those who
know Moore’s work will see familiar themes – animals, sports, poetry. More than
fifteen years ago I incorporated into a blog post the complete reading list
Moore had prepared for inclusion in Raymond Queneau’s Pour Une Bibliothèque Idéale (1956). Her choices combine the
obligatory (Jonathan Swift, Paul Valéry) and the inspired (Jean-Henri Fabre, Jacques Maritain). Eccentricity
should never cancel out the essential. Reading is duty and whim.
3 comments:
Plimpton introduced Moore to Muhammad Ali, and she "collaborated" with the boxer on a poem about his upcoming fight, "An Ode on the Annihilation of Ernie Terrell" (or something like that - working from memory here), which can be found in Plimpton's wonderful book about the fight game, Shadow Box.
As I recall, after their meeting, Moore described Muhammed Ali as "a smiling pugilist." An apt description, especially after the world was treated to the contrast between Ali (Cassius Clay as he was then) and a scowling Sonny Liston.
"forever in danger of becoming a dilettante." I was in my teens before it dawned on me that dilettante was a term of polite disparagement. Based on an early perusal of Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary 6th or 7th Ed., I was persuaded that a dilettante was someone who was interested in everything and how could that be negatively construed? I am now enlightened, if you will, but still have a stealthy admiration for the term. Opinions may change, where sentiments may linger.
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