Romani ite domum

... or

Romanes eunt domus

Write it out a hundred times.

And having got the frivolity out of the way early (well it worked - they did go home).

Music is She Hangs Brightly - Mazzy Star

I have to admit to buying a book I already have simply for the 'remix' of the later edition. It is "The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath" by Ronald Hayman. I have been meaning to re-read a Plath Biography before the film Sylvia is released. The problem was how to decide on which one. Well this timely edition has solved the problem. The second chapter starts with some biographical detail about Plath's father Otto and an analysis of some of the poems related to him - Electra on Azalea Path and the obvious one - Daddy. I am not sure how these web versions of the poems can be legally posted as all biographies and indeed the film as well, are hamstrung by not being able to quote more of the poems than is considered "fair use" or whatever the term is. Hayman's analysis is quite clever; just within the fair use clause. However, these poems are so well known - especially "Daddy" that all the paraphrasing simply brings to mind the Nursery Rhyme delivery - bang bang bang - of the poem itself and you cannot help but hear the poem in your head. It is very difficult not to hear Plath herself reading them. (This is a big download so don't click if you cannot stand the wait).

From looking for links I think there may be several versions of Plath reading Daddy. The first one I found seemed to lack something compared to the one I finally linked to. Anyway, as I have probably just lowered my hit count by mentioning Plath, I will end reference to her for today. There will probably be plenty more over the next few weeks.

My daughter "improved" a terribly unflattering cartoon of Germaine Greer in the Observer yesterday. Unfortunately, the article on the website does not have the cartoon and I think it would probably be unwise to post it here. Anyway, the unadorned cartoon was rather unflattering. My daughter's "improvements" did at least add some pink in the form of earrings and a crown. Subconscious Irony I suppose.

Just for the record, a transcript of the notebook because sometimes I cannot really work out what I actually meant by the scribbles

Babies - Little blanks of self-propelling jelly - empty. (Not a clue - must have been all that cider I drank on Saturday).

Making music using the enemy's machines, deaf to the shouts against the industry which makes the noise you make.

(I do know this one - It was a reference to The manic Street Preachers and their nicely equipped stage - all those hand-made instruments from the tiny little cottage industries. Harks back a little to the "portable toilet incident").

Pink additions to Germaine Greer (Got that one).

Black as a clock stopped by bombs. (Must be a Plath Pastiche - don't remember exactly.)

More melancholia anon.