So yesterday I detailed my adventures of Saturday which weren’t so much adventure-y as pretty run-of-the-mill.
Except for this part where when I went to my friend’s place and just before leaving, he took me to this place near his house (which is on a hill) called THE TANK. It’s basically a huge cement water tank that you can climb on top of and then enjoy the beautiful scenery around you simultaneously silently panicking about your fear of heights on the inside.
It was beautiful.
But you may also remember in my last post I wrote about how I picked up this book called ‘Out of the Dust’ by ‘Karen Hesse’ and today, I felt like sharing some bits of it with you people because it is a very special book.
Why is it a special book?
Because the entire story is told through free-verse poetry.
So here are some gems I found inside it:
“Daddy named me Billie Joe.
He wanted a boy.
he got a long-legged girl
with a wide mouth
and cheekbones like bicycle handles.
He got a redheaded, freckle-faced, narrow-hipped girl
with a fondness for apples
and a hunger for playing fierce piano”
“My fingers leave sighs
in the dust”
“Mad dog scooped a handful of dust,
like a boy in a sandpit.
He said, ‘I love this land,
no matter what,’
I looked at his hands.
They were scarless”
The book was a refreshing read, poignant and elegant. It was sad and sorrowful but it also contained a quiet dignity in the way it brought out the sadness. The poems were amazing, wonderfully pensive and thought-provoking but never so deep and resonant that you doubt it’s a small girl writing them.
It’s not of course but all the same, you feel the story come to life as you read.
It’s what I like about free-verse poetry.
It doesn’t matter that it has no rhyme, rhythm or any rules to it. It’s beauty lies in it’s simplicity and yet at the same time, you can make it as wonderfully complicated as you want with a twist of a line or two.
1. Despite my fear of heights, I actually like large views from high up above places.
2. Sometimes, it’s books that you wouldn’t buy on an ordinary day or in an ordinary bookshop that astound you the most.
3. A good book needs no mysterious plot line, or mysterious characters. They can have plots so simple that it can all be explained in a few lines in the blurb. The characters can be so cliched and stereotyped that they seem like cardboard cutouts. But a good book needs to be written exquisitely, with taste and style and most importantly, with utmost conviction.