The Natives, who have a strong sense of rhythm, know nothing of verse, or at least did not know anything before the times of the schools, where they were taught hymns. One evening out in the maize-field, where we had been harvesting maize, breaking off the cobs and throwing them on to the ox-carts, to amuse myself, I spoke to the field labourers, who were mostly quite young, in Swaheli verse. There was no sense in the verse, it was made for the sake of the rhyme:–"Ngumbe na-penda chumbe, Malaya-mbaya. Wakamba na-kula mamba." The oxen like salt,–whores are bad,–The Wakamba do eat snakes. It caught the interest of the boys, they formed a ring round me. They were quick to understand that the meaning in poetry is of no consequence, and they did not question the thesis of the verse, but waited eagerly for the rhyme, and laughed at it when it came. I tried to make them themselves find the rhyme and finish the poem when I had begun it, but they could not, or would not, do that, and turned away their heads. As they had become used to the idea of poetry, they begged: "Speak again. Speak like rain." Why they should feel verse to be like rain I do not know. It must have been, however, an expression of applause, since in Africa rain is always longed for and welcomed.
—Isak Dinesen (The Baroness Karen Blixen), from Out of Africa
I think poetry can sound like rain, and I don't think the nature of this is really all that much of a mystery. Rain is rhythmic and flowing, and to me so is the greatest of poetry. But should some of our most celebrated poets be told that their meanings were of no consequence I think there might be a lot of broken hearts. That's not to say, of course, that a good silly rhyme isn't fun now and then. I'm not fond of them myself, but Calvin has been working out the business of rhyming for himself this week and I've heard many a verse about fleas with knees or dogs on logs.
My Somewhere in Time book club read Out of Africa for our February meeting (which will take place on Valentine's day just after the usual dinner hour—no romance for the weary). I had seen the movie but shamelessly never read the book. It's lyrical and beautiful. She writes with a rhythm that makes me feel Africa as much as think it. Having already spoken to one of the other club members I know she didn't like the book's non-linear layout, but I think this was an important aspect of the story and its message: if the stories were written linearly and connectedly would they not merely lead up to a final conclusion? The individual stories, and the individuals, after all, are the love in the work, not the epic as a whole. And the book certainly gets my love.
Book 1 on my way to 52 in 2011
We finished our most recent in the Oz series yesterday, The Tik-Tok of Oz. I have to say that this was my least favorite of the series so far. It fits in just fine, but it borrowed heavily from previous books, to the point that I felt it was just a rewriting or a recombination of earlier stories he'd already written. That being said, all the stories are really formulaic and that might be part of what makes them so enjoyable to the younger set—they know what to expect, and they are all equally fantastical and enjoyable. Calvin, for one, was not bothered by repetition. 