I have loved books and reading all my life. I have fond memories of Christmases spent curled up in the corner of the living room, devouring the new books I’d received. In fact, I remember one Christmas Mom telling me to slow down and savor them so I would still have something new to read come New Year’s.
Recently I have begun collecting old and rare books–not really for investment purposes, simply because they make me happy. My newest acquisition is the complete five volume set of Les Miserables, published in English by Little Brown in 1887. I’m so proud of them that they currently hold the place of honor in the center of my mantle, alongside my copies of Hamlet, Twelfth Night, and Longfellow’s collection of poetry.
While taking pictures of these old books the other night (because, indeed, I am that much of a nerd), I got to thinking about the relationship between photography and poetry: how each gives an impression, but leaves the reader or viewer to fill in the blanks and create their own interpretation. This quote says it very well:
“The still photograph is to moving pictures what poetry is to prose – less comprehensive perhaps, less literal even, yet somehow capable of expressing a deeper truth.” -Anonymous
With this in mind, I began going through my archives, and favorite lines of poetry began to play in my head. So for tonight’s blog, I thought I’d share a few of my impressions with you.