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Rimbaud draws a picture of his affair with Verlaine in cynical terms, painting Verlaine as a weak and foolish virgin and himself as an "infernal bridegroom," a monster of cruelty. It wasn't far from the truth.
The last chapter of A Season in Hell is titled "Farewell." It has an air of exhaustion and relief about it. "I have tried to invent new flowers, new stars, new flesh, new tongues. I believed I had acquired supernatural powers. Well! I must bury my imagination and my memories. A fine fame as an artist and story-teller swept away! I! I who called myself magus or angel, exempt from all morality, I am given back to the earth, with a task to pursue, and wrinkled reality to embrace. A peasant!" A Season In Hell was finished in August 1873. Rimbaud somehow persuaded his thrifty mother to pay to have the book printed in Belgium. He sent his six author's copies to his friends and to men of letters in Paris. Many people see this manuscript as his farewell to literature. It certainly reads like that, although Enid Starkie believes that it was Rimbaud's farewell to a certain kind of literature--visionary, mystical, growing out of the selfish and hallucinatory lifestyle that had crashed to a halt only a few months before with his shooting and the jailing of Verlaine--and a commitment to something more humble and realistic. "Well, now I shall ask forgiveness for having fed on lies," Rimbaud wrote. He hoped that the French literary world would offer him the forgiveness that he was now prepared to seek, and give his book favorable reviews. He the proceeded to Paris to see how his book had fared.
Favorable reviews? He must have been mad. To those literary men, the dilettantes Rimbaud had mocked and despised a year or two earlier, Rimbaud was the insolent catamite who had destroyed their old friend Verlaine: sponged off him, wrecked his marriage, corrupted his soul and ruined his life, and then, when he had used him up, had turned him in to the police to face hard labour in a Belgian jail.
We have an eyewitness account of Rimbaud on the day when the last door in Paris had been slammed in his face, at the moment when he realized that the literary career he'd embraced so passionately was over. It was the evening of the first of November, 1873, a holiday, and the cafés and restaurants were crowded. The poet Poussin had joined some writer friends at the Café Tabourey. He noticed a young man alone in a corner, staring into space. It was Rimbaud. Poussin went over and offered to buy him a drink. "Rimbaud was pale and even more silent than usual," he later recalled. "His face, indeed his whole bearing, expressed a powerful and fearsome bitterness." For the rest of his life Poussin "retained from that meeting a memory of dread."
When the café closed, Rimbaud--who hadn't spoken to anyone all evening--set out to walk home through the late autumn countryside. It took him about a week. When he got to Charleville he built a bonfire and burned all his manuscripts. He didn't bother to collect the remaining five hundred copies of his book from the printer--they moldered there until they were discovered by a Belgian lawyer in 1901. That should have been the end of it. But Rimbaud couldn't quite let go. The following year in London he carefully copied out his prose poems, gathered together under the title, Illuminations. The year after that he tried to get them published. For the anguished but brilliant Rimbaud, giving up poetry must have been akin to weaning himself from a potent drug.
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This book contains everything you need to know.
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This one is action-packed from front to back and may well be the best book in the series. If you have not yet been introduced to the Three Investigators and are wondering which book to try reading first, I would recommend this book. You might as well buy the other available titles, though, because you are surely going to want to keep reading these adventures. For the life of me, I can't figure out why there has never been a Three Investigators movie--this story in particular would be terrific on the big screen.
Absolutely reccomended.
Maverick
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After publication, Newman's Apologia helped raise the esteem of Catholics in the eyes of the English people and helped make him a Cardinal. I whole-heartedly recommend this to anyone looking for a moving spiritual autobiography.
Yet, for all these superb reasons to read this spiritual autobiography, perhaps there is one "secular" reason to read Newman: His command of the English language. Newman has an excellent command of rhetoric, logic, and exposition that makes him a stellar example of Victorian belle letters.
I'd recommend the Norton Critical Edition over the Penguin edition, obviously, not for the "translation," but for the criticism that helps put the issues involved in context for the 20th century reader.
In this book, John Henry Newman, in order to defend himself from (rather unfair) charges of insincerity, outlines the history of his spiritual development, from his beginnings as a liberal thinker, to his conversion to the Evangelical wing of the Church of England, to his ordination as an Anglican priest, to his gradual move toward Catholic thought, practice and worship in the Church of England, to his leadership in the so-called "Oxford Movement" and its call to holiness and Catholicity in the Church of England, and finally to his ultimate submission to Rome.
Whether one agrees or disagrees with Cardinal Newman theologically; whether one can accept his particular conclusions is not important to the enjoyment of this book. It is an honest account of a spiritual journey, written by an articulate man, which should prove inspirational to all persons of faith, and to all on a spiritual pilgrimage.
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When it comes time for the Metallica fan in all of us to reach out to the music, we get a guitar and lay down our best attempt at doing that. That is where this book will come in handy. Great and renowned solo's monopolize the book. Including a small comment on the solo strait from Kirk and the author.
Not really a beginner book, but it was for me, well I would still buy it even if you are a beginner. You will find very much to keep you busy, promise.
Overall this is a great book for the advanced guitar player. If your interested in learning how to solo this book is for you too. It has helped me learn how to craft my own solos, as well as help me gain playing speed.
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I being the owner of rifles which are lighter in calibre than what the A-Square company specialises in put me at a distance to what the Authors talk about at times. The subject of bullet expansion was fasinating but also the likelyhood of me using a monolithic solid projectile on varmints is highly unlikely.
I though at first that this would be an excellent read but it started to wain in it's appeal after the Authors spoke about Terminal Ballistics and there after Bullet Expansion and Sighting in a Rifle. Don't get me wrong there were like I said some awsome third party stories and information but I was none the less dissapointed.
In a nutshell If you use big guns I mean BIG .338, .460, .577 you will find this a pleasure to read but if you go for game that is a bit smaller than Eland and Elephants then you are better off looking for another read. I for example live in Australia and I hunt Kangaroo, Feral Cats, Wild Boar, Feral Dogs, Rabbits, Hares and Foxes. This book talks about much larger game that is way out of my calibre and I mean much larger game.
Nice book to add to my collection but relevance to my situation is much desired and not met in this book. The principals I will admit are relevant to any shooter but I will not be trying to knock off a white rhino with my .243 Winchester after reading this that is for shure.
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As a subject T.R. is especially enjoyable, but more for his forceful character than for any of his objective accomplishments (for which the author notes several, e.g., negotiating the peace between Japan and Russia, and his national conservationist orders, etc.).
The author addresses Roosevelt's sense that his presidency was relatively unspectacular, and since war time presidents receive the most historical attention (e.g., leading to positive evaluations for Lincoln and Franklin Roosevelt, but negative for Wilson due to his post war failures), Roosevelt felt himself cheated from his place of greatness due to being a peacetime president.
As this author notes, many of T.R.'s beliefs had long lasting value (especially, I feel, his beliefs on the limitations of capitalism as spoken by a pro-business chief executive). Those who followed him, though, soon abandoned these attitudes. The reason for this seems to rest with T.R. He accomplished much emphasizing the forcefulness of his personality and took credit for improvements as being uniquely his. Since he can be the only T.R., his philosophy could not be transmitted to others. When out of office, he was no longer "T.R." and his so-called system collapsed as with a deck of cards. He was ultimately left a shell of his former self.
What if Roosevelt had toned down some of his tendencies? Might he have extended his influence over the next administrations and the country? If so, might this have led to a different result in how America influenced the developing European disputes that resulted in the First World War? These are some of the questions that remained with me from reading this book.
His imagery is powerful, his language self-deprecating and insanely sincere. It draws you in with its suffering.
At the end he finds his life as an artist, his passion, empty. It all ended with the gunshot to the hand that ended his affair with Verlaine. In short, he equates his artistry and homosexual affairs with hell, and a return to society redemption. This explains how he became a materialist later on in his life, a trader, even considering trading slaves.
It is a sad fate for someone who had such a poetic gift.
I still enjoy reading A Season In Hell, even after having read it many times. Ultimately, the work is flawed; it has a little too much affected insanity, angst, the sign of an adolescent work, but it is also full of pure poetry and promise.