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A few weeks ago, I was able to finish an entire book. That I am even marking the act of being able to finish a book as an event tells how derailed I have been from the life I envisioned for myself. I used to think that at this point in my career, I should have more time for books, less time for meetings, to dos, and plans of action.
Alas, that is not to be. But I am not one dwell on the derailment, what I do is steal time away from the everyday to sneak in some reading. When a book turned up on my shelf a few weeks ago, I half resented, half appreciated its coming. Resented because it was one more reminder of my life not turning out the way I wanted it to. Appreciated, because well, a book is passage to another world, away from this one, as long as the pages are open, other worlds are open to me.
Cold Mountain is a strange series of journeys, moving through a war, conventions of the times, moving out of the self, moving towards another person. I learned new things from the book, a few almanac-style facts that I think would be useful to add to one’s skill sets: how to survive in the wilderness. I haven’t seen the film, so it’s good exercise to be able to form images without benefit of celluloid suggestion, to form scenes not colored by cinematic lighting. It is a cruel landscape and time that unfolds in Cold Mountain. It made me realize how, shaped by the elements, what we know in one culture shifts radically in another, owing in no small way to geography. What I know of winter is that it is cold and bleak. But the winter described by the book is much harsher, a season tempered by a gnawing hunger in the stomach and in the soul.
It made me think of journeys, the kind that take you out of yourself and what you know, into landscapes that are vaster, altered, alien. To be made aware of how much we can change as we move through time and through worlds imagined and real, that for me is the gentle nudge the book gives. Not everything that is still remains in place, and all that moving doesn’t necessarily mean you are going to get somewhere. But the journeying, sometimes, is all that matters.







I really loved Cold Mountain, the sense of loss of something that you never really had resonates with me.
Posted by: lisa | 02 June 2006 at 12:16 PM
"Not everything that is still remains in place, and all that moving doesn’t necessarily mean you are going to get somewhere."
so true and so well said, bee!
and yeah...sometimes it is when one stays still, when one quiets oneself and shuts out the noise and steps off the ceaselessly moving tracks of the rat race...sometimes that's when real change happens and one finally "gets somewhere".
p.s.: you might find this interesting: how author charles frazier found the inspiration for "cold mountain"
Posted by: petite | 30 May 2006 at 12:21 AM
"a day without reading is a lost day... ;)"
Indeed KD! This weekend I'm resolving to get back into the habit of discovering books. I miss being able to fold oneself and disappear into a book.
Have a great weekend!
Posted by: thebee | 26 May 2006 at 05:40 PM
a day without reading is a lost day... ;)
Posted by: k.d. | 25 May 2006 at 05:42 PM
Yeah, it does ramble on and on. I want to see the movie now, I'd like to see how those rolling vistas and the battle scenes were played out.
Posted by: thebee | 25 May 2006 at 11:00 AM
I saw the film first, so my version of the world of Cold Mt is probably coloured by the big screen.
I enjoyed the book, more for it's descriptive passages rather than for any character development and plot.
Posted by: Fence | 24 May 2006 at 10:00 PM