A Lovely Wallpaper

Sylvia Plath's "Crossing the Water" with Darryl Pinckney

1 h 7 min · I går
episode Sylvia Plath's "Crossing the Water" with Darryl Pinckney cover

Description

In the first half of this special double episode, Abby interviews Darryl Pinckney, novelist and critic, and discusses his book Come Back in September: A Literary Education on West Sixty-seventh Street, Manhattan, which is about his mentor writer Elizabeth Hardwick. Together, they present “Crossing the Water” by Sylvia Plath. Recitation begins at 60:20. Crossing the Water Sylvia Plath Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people. Where do the black trees go that drink here? Their shadows must cover Canada. A little light is filtering from the water flowers. Their leaves do not wish us to hurry: They are round and flat and full of dark advice. Cold worlds shake from the oar. The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes. A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand; Stars open among the lilies. Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens? This is the silence of astounded souls.

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22 episodes

episode Sylvia Plath's "Crossing the Water" with Darryl Pinckney artwork

Sylvia Plath's "Crossing the Water" with Darryl Pinckney

In the first half of this special double episode, Abby interviews Darryl Pinckney, novelist and critic, and discusses his book Come Back in September: A Literary Education on West Sixty-seventh Street, Manhattan, which is about his mentor writer Elizabeth Hardwick. Together, they present “Crossing the Water” by Sylvia Plath. Recitation begins at 60:20. Crossing the Water Sylvia Plath Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people. Where do the black trees go that drink here? Their shadows must cover Canada. A little light is filtering from the water flowers. Their leaves do not wish us to hurry: They are round and flat and full of dark advice. Cold worlds shake from the oar. The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes. A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand; Stars open among the lilies. Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens? This is the silence of astounded souls.

Yesterday1 h 7 min
episode John Donne's "A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day" with Robert Harrison artwork

John Donne's "A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day" with Robert Harrison

Guest Robert Pogue Harrison, professor of Italian and French literature at Stanford, discusses his long running radio program "Entitled Opinions (about Life and Literature)." He presents “A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day,” by John Donne. Recitation begins at 36:21. 'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's, Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks; The sun is spent, and now his flasks Send forth light squibs, no constant rays; The world's whole sap is sunk; The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk, Whither, as to the bed's feet, life is shrunk, Dead and interr'd; yet all these seem to laugh, Compar'd with me, who am their epitaph. *** But I am none; nor will my sun renew. You lovers, for whose sake the lesser sun At this time to the Goat is run To fetch new lust, and give it you, Enjoy your summer all; Since she enjoys her long night's festival, Let me prepare towards her, and let me call This hour her vigil, and her eve, since this Both the year's, and the day's deep midnight is.

21. dec. 202552 min