I’ve been re-reading this small and plangent volume. Claudia Emerson gave it to me eight years ago. It resonated very deeply with me then, and does so still. Though the lessons I need have changed over those intervening years, this inexhaustible book continues to anticipate and meet those needs. I think I will not ever stop learning from it.
A short quotation tonight:
“But they are difficult things with which we have been charged; almost everything serious is difficult, and everything is serious.”
Tomorrow I hope to start writing about my freshman seminar last fall.
Ah, you’ve brought memories with this post, Gardner. A dear teen friend gave me _Letters_ when I was about 16. I worked on that book for weeks, between high school and working at a grocery store.
Chris also introduced me to so much music. We read Nietzsche together. I miss you, Chris!
Googled the book and the first thing I saw was this:
“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must,” then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse”
:o) Thank you.