The last few
weeks of my free reading time has been spent reviewing Volumes I and II of the Autobiography of Mark Twain.
I went to the local public library to renew
my library card because of my discovery that my experience with popular fiction
and non-fiction books was a few years behind the average person including high
school students. Usually, I read
scientific journal and research articles. Occasionally I read a good mystery
novel. This discovery was made while
substitute teaching in English classes and noting what the high school teachers
have been assigning to their students.
A few months
ago, I attended a middle school book fair with a middle school English class
and I brought a paper and pen to document the books which were at the book
fair. To my chagrin, I did not know any
of these books existed, however, the middle school kids recited the number of
these “popular” books that they had read
and seen at the movies. Well, I thought that day at the middle school book
fair ‘ perhaps I had been living in a time warp.’
My own childhood
reading was occupied by Nancy Drew novels, Jules Verne books, sports books,
fiction novels about animals, and lastly Mark Twain. Based upon my time in adulthood as a
substitute teacher, it became apparent that Mark Twain is not particularly
popular reading at this time, although the high school students are still
required to read Shakespeare.
I had a wonderful English teacher in 7th
and 8th grade middle school, Mrs. Tripoli, at Blackham Middle School
in Bridgeport, CT. It was obvious that
she loved literature and loved to teach.
She was the teacher that truly created an appreciation for
literature. In high school, I also had
good English teachers, yet I could not personally, get into the Shakespeare
thing.
In April of
1986, I went canoeing and camping along
the Rio Grande River in Big Bend National Park.
The river runs along the border of west Texas and Mexico (Roughing It). My
women outdoors companions were from a mixed background, including our canoe
trip leader, Beverly Anataeus of Santa
Fe, NM, who is an expert “canoeist”and Linda who was a writer for the National Enquirer. Linda, from Georgia, also worked for the Santa Fe Oprea.
Beverly was originally from Maine. Jean, from Maine, an old lady at that time drove the van with the canoes. The most popular tune on the radio between Albuquerque and the Big Bend National Park was: "You Were Always on My Mind" by Willie Nelson.
That trip was one of the most relaxing vacations that I have experienced. We had 5 or 6 canoes and ran into no one along the river the entire 5 days/nights. What spectacular desert scenery. One of those nights I had javelinas oinking outside my tent. I suppose this was not truly a new experience since I have run across plenty of people who qualify as javelina who are never welcome. Therefore, I welcomed the animal javelinas on that camping trip. I do not have original photos of this trip, because my old house in Albuquerque, NM was ransacked (completely) while traveling one summer and autumn, hence, all of these photos were lost.
That trip was one of the most relaxing vacations that I have experienced. We had 5 or 6 canoes and ran into no one along the river the entire 5 days/nights. What spectacular desert scenery. One of those nights I had javelinas oinking outside my tent. I suppose this was not truly a new experience since I have run across plenty of people who qualify as javelina who are never welcome. Therefore, I welcomed the animal javelinas on that camping trip. I do not have original photos of this trip, because my old house in Albuquerque, NM was ransacked (completely) while traveling one summer and autumn, hence, all of these photos were lost.
On one night
of the Big Bend canoe trip at 1:00 AM on
that April of 1986 all of us campers awoke to view the tail-end of Halley’s
Comet. (see my previous blog post https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5983035772269748684#editor/target=post;postID=7572223762403124549;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=16;src=postname). The comet was clearly visible on the
horizon with binoculars. What a treat to
see the comet! At that time (1986), I was well past my “youth”, I was “too
old” to read things like Mark Twain (my late 20’s).
To return to
my first paragraph of the blog, I went to the library to renew my library card. The Autobiography of Mark Twain (Volume
II) was sitting on the “new books” shelf near the entrance. The library is also slightly behind the time
since Volume I was published in 2010 and Volume II was published in 2011. I am still waiting to determine whether the
library will get Volume III?
So, I have
spent the last few weeks reviewing the first two volumes of Mark Twain’s
Autobiography. What a wealth of literary
knowledge his autobiography truly is.
Mark Twain met, knew, interacted with, and was friends with so many
people which is called “well-connected” in modern terminology. Reading his
history and autobiographical details enhances every aspect of his novels.
Importantly,
Mark Twain had stipulated that his autobiography was not to be published for
100 years. He died in 1910 in Redding,
CT during Halley’s Comet. The Bancroft
Library at the University of California, Berkeley, CA has done a great job of
preserving his archives and abiding by Mr. Twain’s wish that his autobiography
not be published for 100 years posthumously.
In the year 2010 Volume I of the
autobiography was published and in 2011 Volume II was published. There is Volume III. While reading these first two volumes, I am
reminded of Halley’s Comet that night on the Rio Grande River in Big Bend
National Park, i. e., the fading tail-light of a great American author.
In his
autobiography Twain described his first attempts at writing his autobiography
as “Scraps of My Autobiography” and “My Debut as a Literary Person”. Ultimately, these writing starts were
shelved. I am not a specialist in the
literary world, so my blog posts do not represent “My Debut as a Literary
Person”. Yet, my blog posts may
represent the musings of a research scientist who aspires to be a
“Literarian”.
On Page 7 of
Mark Twain’s novel: A Connecticut
Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, there is a passage as follows:
“At the end
of an hour we saw a faraway town sleeping in a valley. By a winding river; and
beyond it on a hill, a vast grey fortress with towers and turrets, the first I
have ever seen by a picture. Bridgeport?
Said I, pointing”.
“Camelot,
said he!” (Warwick Castle in the novel)
Here is one
of my photos of a symbolic castle along the Pequonnock River in Bridgeport, CT from the year 2010:
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