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“Boris has just given me a summary of his views. He is weather prophet. The weather will continue bad, he says. There will be more calamities, more death, more despair. Not the slightest indication of a change anywhere…. We must get into step, a lockstep toward the prison of death. There is no escape. The weather will not change.”
― Tropic of Cancer
― Tropic of Cancer
“School of Resentment is a term coined by critic Harold Bloom to describe related schools of literary criticism which have gained prominence in academia since the 1970s and which Bloom contends are preoccupied with political and social activism at the expense of aesthetic values.[1]
Broadly, Bloom terms "Schools of Resentment" approaches associated with Marxist critical theory, including African American studies, Marxist literary criticism, New Historicist criticism, feminist criticism, and poststructuralism—specifically as promoted by Jacques Lacan, Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault. The School of Resentment is usually defined as all scholars who wish to enlarge the Western canon by adding to it more works by authors from minority groups without regard to aesthetic merit and/or influence over time, or those who argue that some works commonly thought canonical promote sexist, racist or otherwise biased values and should therefore be removed from the canon. Bloom contends that the School of Resentment threatens the nature of the canon itself and may lead to its eventual demise. Philosopher Richard Rorty[2] agreed that Bloom is at least partly accurate in describing the School of Resentment, writing that those identified by Bloom do in fact routinely use "subversive, oppositional discourse" to attack the canon specifically and Western culture in general.”
―
Broadly, Bloom terms "Schools of Resentment" approaches associated with Marxist critical theory, including African American studies, Marxist literary criticism, New Historicist criticism, feminist criticism, and poststructuralism—specifically as promoted by Jacques Lacan, Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault. The School of Resentment is usually defined as all scholars who wish to enlarge the Western canon by adding to it more works by authors from minority groups without regard to aesthetic merit and/or influence over time, or those who argue that some works commonly thought canonical promote sexist, racist or otherwise biased values and should therefore be removed from the canon. Bloom contends that the School of Resentment threatens the nature of the canon itself and may lead to its eventual demise. Philosopher Richard Rorty[2] agreed that Bloom is at least partly accurate in describing the School of Resentment, writing that those identified by Bloom do in fact routinely use "subversive, oppositional discourse" to attack the canon specifically and Western culture in general.”
―
“For it can never be that war shall preserve life, and peace destroy it.”
― Leviathan
― Leviathan
“No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”
― Leviathan
― Leviathan
“We inaugurate the evening
Just drumming up a little weirdness
It gets late so early now
The waves come in in mountain phases
Linked impossibilities
Branching possibilities
I’d see fire where it's not supposed to be
In the empty library at suppertime
By the respirating basement door
The dog eats out of an old tambourine on the floor
I’ve been told you can live a long, long time on the love of a dog
And that things get bitter and bad
When the people are wrong
And sleep can be had for the price of a song
Late in the day
When the options are gone
When the seatbelt’s the only hug you’ve felt in weeks
When wrong numbers are the totality of your social life
The obscure strategies of wildlife
Only flummox the hell out of you, kid
I first saw her in a megastore
The Day-Glo raven
Born into a free fall
Like plastic Easter basket grass
Falling from an overpass
The fulfillment of a tenth grade prophecy
A motel masterpiece
Blind to the branching possibilities
Blind to linked impossibilities
Teardrops were standing in my eyes
Like deer before they bolt
It was like I was stretching my arm through the cat door to heaven
I was thinking I could lick the frosting off these summer days if nights were half as sweet
Me like a banged up dog walking half sideways
I adored the way she modified my mornings
When I’d wake up in the calm shoals of her bed
Somersaults and smoke and a universe of sleep
Before she slipped into her heritage
And disappeared
Now every second thought is out of control
I guess in a way I long to be rad
When I was with her it felt wrong to be sad
Did I tell you an angel finally came and shut my mouth?
There was a smile and a tear in her voice too
And she taught me
To relight
Relight and relight again
They tell me you can live a long, long time on the love of a dog
Things get bitter and bad
And sleep can be had
Late in the day when the options seem gone
Please let your eyes be a friend to me again
It’s just malfunctioning teardrops
A cowboy overflow of the heart”
―
Just drumming up a little weirdness
It gets late so early now
The waves come in in mountain phases
Linked impossibilities
Branching possibilities
I’d see fire where it's not supposed to be
In the empty library at suppertime
By the respirating basement door
The dog eats out of an old tambourine on the floor
I’ve been told you can live a long, long time on the love of a dog
And that things get bitter and bad
When the people are wrong
And sleep can be had for the price of a song
Late in the day
When the options are gone
When the seatbelt’s the only hug you’ve felt in weeks
When wrong numbers are the totality of your social life
The obscure strategies of wildlife
Only flummox the hell out of you, kid
I first saw her in a megastore
The Day-Glo raven
Born into a free fall
Like plastic Easter basket grass
Falling from an overpass
The fulfillment of a tenth grade prophecy
A motel masterpiece
Blind to the branching possibilities
Blind to linked impossibilities
Teardrops were standing in my eyes
Like deer before they bolt
It was like I was stretching my arm through the cat door to heaven
I was thinking I could lick the frosting off these summer days if nights were half as sweet
Me like a banged up dog walking half sideways
I adored the way she modified my mornings
When I’d wake up in the calm shoals of her bed
Somersaults and smoke and a universe of sleep
Before she slipped into her heritage
And disappeared
Now every second thought is out of control
I guess in a way I long to be rad
When I was with her it felt wrong to be sad
Did I tell you an angel finally came and shut my mouth?
There was a smile and a tear in her voice too
And she taught me
To relight
Relight and relight again
They tell me you can live a long, long time on the love of a dog
Things get bitter and bad
And sleep can be had
Late in the day when the options seem gone
Please let your eyes be a friend to me again
It’s just malfunctioning teardrops
A cowboy overflow of the heart”
―
Ruth’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Ruth’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
28 books
|
8 friends
308 books
|
36 friends
20 books
|
1 friend
138 books
|
19 friends
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Ruth
Lists liked by Ruth