literature

1y

<p>English novelist and poet Charlotte Smith was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1749.</p><p>Smith's first significant literary success came with the publication of "Elegiac Sonnets" in 1784. In addition to her poetry, Smith wrote several novels: her first novel, "Emmeline, or The Orphan of the Castle" (1788), was followed by others such as "Ethelinde" (1789), "The Old Manor House" (1793), and "Desmond" (1792). </p><p>Books by Charlotte Smith at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/41281" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/41281"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/41281</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a></p>

Portrait of Charlotte Smith by George Romney.

Portrait of Charlotte Smith wearing a large, frilly bonnet, depicted with soft facial features and looking slightly to her right. The artwork uses a mix of fine detail in the face and looser strokes in the hat and background, with predominantly neutral and earthy tones.

The Young Philosopher was Smith's last novel and a piece of "outspoken radical fiction".

Charlotte Turner Smith - Eighteenth Century Collections Online
Smith, Charlotte Turner. The young philosopher. Vol. 1. London: Printed for T. Cadell, Jr. and W. Davies, 1798.

Title page of the book "The Young Philosopher: A Novel" in four volumes by Charlotte Smith, featuring an excerpt of poetry, indicating it was printed in London by T. Cadell Jun. and W. Davies in the Strand, 1798.

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1y

<p><a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1921.</p><p>The première of Luigi Pirandello's Sei personaggi in cerca d'autore at the Teatro Valle in Rome divides the audience.</p><p>An absurdist metatheatric play about the relationship among authors, their characters, and theatre practitioners, it premiered at the Teatro Valle in Rome to a mixed reception, with shouts from the audience of "Manicomio!" and "Incommensurabile!", a reaction to the play's illogical progression.</p><p><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18457" rel="nofollow"><span class="invisible">https://</span>www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18457</a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/theatre/" rel="tag">#theatre</a></p>

In April 1923 Luigi Pirandello traveled to Paris to attend the staging of "Six Characters in Search of an Author."

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1y

<p>American author of fantasy fiction and belles-lettres James Branch Cabell died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1958.</p><p>His career took a significant turn with the publication of "Jurgen, A Comedy of Justice" (1919), which is part of a larger series called "The Biography of the Life of Manuel". Although largely overlooked today, James Branch Cabell was highly regarded in his time, with admirers such as H.L. Mencken and Sinclair Lewis. </p><p>Books by James Branch Cabell at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/166" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/166"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/166</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

James Branch Cabell photographed by Carl Van Vechten, 1935.

A black-and-white photo of a middle-aged man (James Branch Cabell) with round glasses, holding a pipe close to his mouth. He wears a dark suit and tie, and is seated in front of a wallpapered background with a floral pattern.

Vintage book cover titled "Chivalry" by James Branch Cabell, featuring ornate red and gold embossing with a central emblem.

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187d

<p>Today, 2 October, is National Poetry Day in the UK. The theme is “play”.</p><p>“Necessity is not the mother of invention; play is”<br>—Ian D. Suttie</p><p>It gets late early out here<br>in the lacklustre places,<br>wind in the trees and the foodstalls’<br>ricepaper lamplight, fading and blurred with rain…</p><p>—John Burnside, “Travelling South, Scotland, August 2012”<br>published in BLACK MIDDENS: New Writing Scotland 31 (ASL, 2013)</p><p><a href="https://poetrysociety.org.uk/projects/national-poetry-day/2025-play/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="poetrysociety.org.uk/projects/national-poetry-day/2025-play/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">poetrysociety.org.uk/projects/</span><span class="invisible">national-poetry-day/2025-play/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/nationalpoetryday/" rel="tag">#nationalpoetryday</a> <a href="/tags/play/" rel="tag">#play</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a></p>

John Burnside
Travelling South, Scotland, August 2012

“Necessity is not the mother of invention; play is”
—Ian D. Suttie

It gets late early out here
in the lacklustre places,
wind in the trees and the foodstalls’
ricepaper lamplight, fading and blurred with rain,
the wire fence studded with fleece
and indelible traces
of polythene wrapping; marrowfat clogging the drains
on the road that runs out to the coast
then disappears.
A last bleed of gold in the west, like a Shan Shui painting,
then darkness.

The animals are gone
that hunted here:
wolves coming down from the hills, that
immaculate hunger,
rumours of bear and cat, quick
martens and raptors.
The rain is darker now,
though not so black,
oil-iridescent, streaked with the smell of lard
– it gets late early out here; though late, out here,
has a different meaning:

stars in the road
and the absence of something more
than birchwoods or song,
pallet fires, tyre-tracks,
grubbed fields clouded with grease
and palm oil, hints
of molasses and lanolin, tarpaper,
iron filings.
A narrow band of weather on the road,
then houses; though we scarcely think of them
as that.

I remember a meadow at dusk
in another rain
(and this is nostalgia now); I remember
I stood in a wind like gossamer and watched
three roe fawns and a doe
come quietly, one by one, through the silvering grasses,
wary, but curious, giving me just enough space
to feel safe,
their watchfulness reminding me of something
lost, a creaturely
awareness I could only glimpse

in passing.
That meadow is gone, and dusk
isn’t dusk any more
– or not out here –
just miles of tract and lay-by on the way
to junkyards and dead allotments,
guard dogs on tether,
biomass, factory outlets,
the half-light of ersatz dairies petering out
on rotting fields
of rape and mustardseed.

We’ve been going at this for years:
a steady delete
of anything that tells us what we are,
a long
distaste for the blood warmth and bloom
of the creaturely: local
fauna and words for colour, all the shapes
of ritual and lust
surrendered where they fell, beneath a fog
of smut and grime and counting-house
as church, the old gods

buried undead beneath the rural sprawl
that bears their names, or wandering the hills
of Lammermuir and Whitelee, waiting out
the rule of Mammon, till the land returns
– with or without us –
chainlink going down
to bindweed, drunken
thistles in a sway
of wind and goldfinch on the dead estates, fat
clusters of moss
and gentian, broken

tarmac with new shoots
of coltsfoot breaking through
like velvet, till the darkness of the leaf
unfurls into a light we could have known
but failed to see
by choosing not to find
the kingdom-at-hand:
this order;
this dialectic;
this mother of invention,
ceaseless play.

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187d

<p>Tha i mar bharaille de sgadan saillte:<br>chan eil agad ach do chròg<br>a stobadh ann, agus dòrlach a thoirt a-mach,<br>reamhar is tiugh leis a’ bhuntàta…</p><p>—Aonghas Phàdraig Caimbeul, “Bàrdachd”</p><p><a href="https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/bardachd/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/bardachd/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.</span><span class="invisible">uk/poem/bardachd/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/gaelic/" rel="tag">#Gaelic</a> <a href="/tags/gaidhlig/" rel="tag">#Gaidhlig</a> <a href="/tags/nationalpoetryday/" rel="tag">#NationalPoetryDay</a></p>

Bàrdachd
Aonghas Phàdraig Caimbeul

Tha i mar bharaille de sgadan saillte:
chan eil agad ach do chròg
a stobadh ann, agus dòrlach a thoirt a-mach,
reamhar is tiugh leis a’ bhuntàta.

Stob
an t-ìm na mheasg
agus tha cuirm agad: Eliot is Donnachadh Bàn,
le do làmhan rùisgte. Seachain
forca is sgian: fàg sin aig na sgoilearan.

Nuair a thig thu gu bonn a’ bharaille
sgròb na craicinn ri chèile,
dean ràth chnàimhean,
lìon lannan
‘s tilg sin thairis
dìreach mu àm reothairt.

Ma ghlacas tu adag,
thoir leat i: nuair tha an sgadan
gann, nì easgann fraighte fhèin a’ chùis
san acras.

Poetry
Translator: Angus Peter Campbell

It’s like a barrel of salt herring:
you only have to stick your paw
in, and lift a handful out,
thick and juicy with the tatties.

Pile
the butter in the middle
and you have a feast: Eliot and Duncan Bàn,
eaten with your bare fingers. Don’t use
a knife and fork: leave that to the scholars.

When you reach the bottom of the barrel
scrape the skins together,
make a raft of bones,
a net of fine filament,
and fling it over the side
just after the spring tide.

If you catch a common haddock,
take it anyway: in the absence
of a fat herring even eels
taste fine when deep-fried.

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187d

<p>“I’ll nae longer tolerate this climate of wholesale copulation, it’s costin me a fortune! And I’m tellin yow I’ll no huv ye footerin wi ma chauffeur, cos the place is gone tae hell and there’s a leemit tae ma forebearance!”</p><p>—from “Mr Puntila & his Man Matti” (1999) by Peter Arnott, translated from Bertolt Brecht<br>Published in SERVING TWA MAISTERS: Five Classic Plays in Scots Translation</p><p><a href="https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/serving_twa_maisters/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/serving_twa_maisters/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">asls.org.uk/publications/books</span><span class="invisible">/volumes/serving_twa_maisters/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/scots/" rel="tag">#Scots</a> <a href="/tags/scotslanguage/" rel="tag">#Scotslanguage</a> <a href="/tags/scotstober/" rel="tag">#Scotstober</a> <a href="/tags/drama/" rel="tag">#drama</a> <a href="/tags/theatre/" rel="tag">#theatre</a> <a href="/tags/translation/" rel="tag">#translation</a></p>

PUNTILA (Yells) Get them oot! (To EVA) I’m absent fer hauf an hour and the hale place gangs tae buggery. Aye, weel dae yow ken how come the cuddies are in ma claver? Cos the stableman’s shaggin the gairden quean, that’s how come. And how’s thon fourteen-month hutheron got baggit afore her time? Cos the lassie’s joab it is tae mind ma cattle is mixin her moggans wi the prentice boy, which disnae gie her leesure tae ensure ma prize bull isnae lowpin oan ma hiefers and committin random fornication wi onythin oan four legs, that’s how. Mind me tae huv a word wi the wee gairden quean, gin she’d kindly abstain from lowsin her scanties for five minutes, mebbe we’ll huv some tomatoes this year. There’s money in tomatoes, and I’ll nae longer tolerate this climate of wholesale copulation, it’s costin me a fortune! And I’m tellin yow I’ll no huv ye footerin wi ma chauffeur, cos the place is gone tae hell and there’s a leemit tae ma forebearance!

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187d

<p>Something near to true<br>night-darkness. The children<br>are playing the Plinky-Boat –<br>a xylophone made<br>from a reclaimed yoal –<br>built for flexibility in a coarse<br>sea…</p><p>—Jen Hadfield, “The Plinky-Boat”<br>published in BYSSUS (Picador, 2014)</p><p><a href="https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jen-hadfield/byssus/9781447241102" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jen-hadfield/byssus/9781447241102"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.panmacmillan.com/authors/j</span><span class="invisible">en-hadfield/byssus/9781447241102</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/shetland/" rel="tag">#Shetland</a> <a href="/tags/nationalpoetryday/" rel="tag">#NationalPoetryDay</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/play/" rel="tag">#play</a></p>

The Plinky-Boat
Jen Hadfield

‘the present is a fine line […] a puff of air would destroy it’
—Gaspar Galaz, ‘Nostalgia de la Luz’

Something near to true
night-darkness. The children
are playing the Plinky-Boat –
a xylophone made
from a reclaimed yoal –
built for flexibility in a coarse
sea, you can tell it fledged
with ease, just blushed
from boat to instrument,
transpiring streams
of these hoarse night-
notes. For its copper pipes
are cut to breadth exactly
so the boat’s beam is
its sotto voce and two rills
of rising pitch run
into stern and stem to
the harmonic of each
hinnyspot – the point
the boards of gunwales
and stem flow together.
I don’t know what it is
about this place that things
metaflower so readily
into their present selves.

The instrument’s a boat,
the notes unresonant
and discs of thin light
swarm over the pipes
from the boys’ headtorches.
Perhaps we heard seals
broaching in the harbour
as they answered the girls’
handclapping game –
I doubt they moaned
in their haunted wise –
here was everything –
words lost, as I’m trying
to say, their echo, that
yodel into past and future.
The poem wouldn’t exist,
but we couldn’t stay.

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23d

<p>The eye of the mathematician</p><p>Is mathematical beauty real? Or is it just a subjective, human ‘wow’ that is becoming redundant in an AI age?</p><p>by Rita Ahmadi</p><p><a href="https://aeon.co/essays/how-should-we-define-mathematical-beauty-in-the-ai-age?utm_source=Aeon+Newsletter&utm_campaign=93f4888db4-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2026_02_23_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_-4ef8a26106-72664972" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="aeon.co/essays/how-should-we-define-mathematical-beauty-in-the-ai-age?utm_source=Aeon+Newsletter&utm_campaign=93f4888db4-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2026_02_23_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_-4ef8a26106-72664972"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">aeon.co/essays/how-should-we-d</span><span class="invisible">efine-mathematical-beauty-in-the-ai-age?utm_source=Aeon+Newsletter&utm_campaign=93f4888db4-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2026_02_23_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_-4ef8a26106-72664972</span></a></p><p>Mathematics at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/bookshelf/102" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/bookshelf/102"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/books</span><span class="invisible">helf/102</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/mathematics/" rel="tag">#mathematics</a></p>

Scientific formulas on chalkboard.

This is an illustration of a dark chalkboard covered in handwritten mathematical equations, graphs, and diagrams rendered in white chalk-style text.

The overall composition gives the feel of a university-level multivariable calculus or mathematical analysis lecture, covering topics like volume integrals, area between curves, polar coordinates, and trigonometric graphing.

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186d

<p>“Frank Quitely is widely celebrated in the comics world, but far less attention has been paid to how deeply his work engages with the cultural, historical, & visual identity of Glasgow & Scotland”</p><p>Drs David John Boys & Julie Briand-Boyd, on the University of Leuven Press blog </p><p><a href="https://lup.be/2025/06/david-john-boyd-and-julie-briand-boyd-superhero-comics-and-scottish-identity/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="lup.be/2025/06/david-john-boyd-and-julie-briand-boyd-superhero-comics-and-scottish-identity/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">lup.be/2025/06/david-john-boyd</span><span class="invisible">-and-julie-briand-boyd-superhero-comics-and-scottish-identity/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/identity/" rel="tag">#identity</a> <a href="/tags/comics/" rel="tag">#comics</a> <a href="/tags/comicbooks/" rel="tag">#comicbooks</a> <a href="/tags/illustration/" rel="tag">#illustration</a> <a href="/tags/frankquitely/" rel="tag">#FrankQuitely</a> <a href="/tags/glasgow/" rel="tag">#Glasgow</a> <a href="/tags/scotland/" rel="tag">#Scotland</a></p>

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1y

<p>German Poet, Playwright, Historian Friedrich Schiller died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1805.</p><p>Initially intended for the priesthood, in 1773 he entered a military academy in Stuttgart and ended up studying medicine. His first play, The Robbers, was written at this time and proved very successful. His major plays include "Don Carlos", and the Wallenstein trilogy, which delves into the tumultuous period of the Thirty Years' War.</p><p>Books by Friedrich Schiller at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/289" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/289"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/289</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/theatre/" rel="tag">#theatre</a></p>

Friedrich Schiller (1759–1805), German poet, philosopher, historian, and playwright in 1793 or 1794. Portrait by Ludovike Simanowiz (1794).

Sepia portrait of Friedrich Schiller, with curly hair down to his neck, wearing a formal dress shirt with a high collar, a scarf as a tie and a military-style jacket with wide collars. The writer stands with his head tilted slightly to the right, looking as if he's lost in infinity.

Cover of The Thirty Years War — Complete by Friedrich Schiller

Translator: A. J. W. Morrison

Edited 1y ago

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1y

<p>American author L. Frank Baum died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1919.</p><p>His breakthrough came with the publication of Mother Goose in Prose (1897), which was followed by Father Goose, His Book (1899), a collection that became a bestseller. In 1900, Baum published The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, illustrated by W.W. Denslow. Baum's Oz series eventually spanned fourteen books with Baum introducing new characters and lands in each subsequent volume.</p><p>Books by L. Frank Baum at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/42" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/42"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/42</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Copy of a portrait of L. Frank Baum, author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. c. 1911

George Steckel - Los Angeles Times photographic archive, UCLA Library

Black and white portrait of L. Frank Baum with a mustache, wearing a suit and tie, and glasses. He is resting his chin on his hand, looking thoughtful.

Vintage book cover design of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" featuring a graphic illustration of a green and red lion, with text by L. Frank Baum and pictures by W.W. Denslow.

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1y

<p>Scottish Playwright & Novelist J.M. Barrie was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1860.</p><p>His early works were modestly successful, including novels such as "Auld Licht Idylls" & "A Window in Thrums". His famous Peter Pan character first appeared in a section of "The Little White Bird", a novel for adults. This was expanded into the stage play "Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up," which premiered in London in 1904 & was an immediate hit. </p><p>Books by J.M. Barrie at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/10" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/10"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/10</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Sepia carbon print of James Matthew Barrie (1860-1937), author of "Peter Pan". More details
Portrait by Herbert Rose Barraud, 1892

Writer J. M. Barrie, sitting sideways in a chair with his arms crossed on the backrest, wearing a formal suit with short, receding hair on his forehead and a long moustache covering his upper lip and extending almost to his chin.

Frintispiece of Peter and Wendy by J. M. Barrie. Illustrated by F.D. Bedford an published by Charles Scribner's & Sons

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1y

<p><a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1923.</p><p>The première of Bertolt Brecht's play In the Jungle of Cities (Im Dickicht der Städte) at the Residenz Theatre in Munich is disrupted by Nazi demonstrators, hooting, whistling and throwing stink bombs at the actors on the stage.</p><p>This production was directed by Erich Engel, with set design by Caspar Neher. The cast included Otto Wernicke as Shlink the lumber dealer, Erwin Faber as George Garga, and Maria Koppenhöfer as his sister Mary.</p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/theatre/" rel="tag">#theatre</a></p>

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1y

<p>American naturalist, essayist, poet, and philosopher Henry David Thoreau died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1862.</p><p>In addition to "Walden," Thoreau is well-known for his essay "Civil Disobedience," which was inspired by his 1846 arrest for refusing to pay poll taxes as a protest against slavery and the Mexican-American War. His political writings later influenced many political leaders, including Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr.</p><p>Books by Henry David Thoreau at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/54" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/54"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/54</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Portrait photograph from a ninth-plate daguerreotype of Henry David Thoreau. Calvin R. Greene was a Thoreau “disciple” who lived in Rochester, Michigan, and who first began corresponding with Thoreau in January 1856. When Greene asked for a photographic image of the author, Thoreau initially replied: “You may rely on it that you have the best of me in my books, and that I am not worth seeing personally – the stuttering, blundering, clodhopper that I am.” Yet Greene repeated his request and sent money for the sitting. Thoreau must have kept this commitment to his fan in the back of his mind for the next several months. On June 18, 1856, during a trip to Worcester, Massachusetts, Henry Thoreau visited the Daguerrean Palace of Benjamin D. Maxham at 16 Harrington Corner and had three daguerreotypes taken for fifty cents each. He gave two of the prints to his Worcester friends and hosts, H.G.O. Blake and Theophilius Brown. The third he sent to Calvin Greene in Michigan. “While in Worcester this week I obtained the accompanying daguerreotype – which my friends think is pretty good – though better looking than I,” Thoreau wrote.

B. D. Maxham - National Portrait Gallery

Original title page of Walden, with an illustration from a drawing by Thoreau's sister Sophia.

Title page of the book "Walden; or, Life in the Woods" by Henry D. Thoreau, featuring an illustration of a small cabin surrounded by trees. The page includes a quotation and the publication details, "Boston: Ticknor and Fields. MDCCCLIV (1854)."

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1y

<p><a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1940.</p><p>John Steinbeck is awarded the Pulitzer Prize for his novel The Grapes of Wrath.</p><p>The book was first published in April 14, 1939. The book won the National Book Award & Pulitzer Prize for fiction, & it was cited prominently when Steinbeck was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1962. When preparing to write the novel, Steinbeck wrote: "I want to put a tag of shame on the greedy bastards who are responsible for this [the Great Depression and its effects]." </p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Cover of "The Grapes of Wrath" by John Steinbeck, depicting a man standing and facing a rural landscape with mountains, beside him a seated woman and two children, all next to an old car.

Edited 1y ago

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121d

<p>Profs Sally Mapstone & Dauvit Broun explore the St Andrews Chronicles – one of Scotland’s most important historical works – tracing the manuscript’s journey to St Andrews & its significance for understanding Scottish identity, legacy & nationhood</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_ck7zxfVxA" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_ck7zxfVxA"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_ck7z</span><span class="invisible">xfVxA</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/history/" rel="tag">#history</a> <a href="/tags/bookhistory/" rel="tag">#BookHistory</a> <a href="/tags/16thcentury/" rel="tag">#16thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/manuscripts/" rel="tag">#manuscripts</a></p>

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171d

<p>On the Twisted Trail of Bram Stoker’s Notes for ‘Dracula’</p><p>Bram Stoker’s creative process behind his iconic Gothic novel was shrouded in mystery for nearly a century.</p><p>By Sher Hackwell</p><p><a href="https://www.mentalfloss.com/literature/authors/bram-stoker-dracula-notes" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.mentalfloss.com/literature/authors/bram-stoker-dracula-notes"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.mentalfloss.com/literature</span><span class="invisible">/authors/bram-stoker-dracula-notes</span></a></p><p>Stoker at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/190" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/190"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/190</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Bram Stoker (1847-1912), novelist born in Ireland, author of "Dracula", 1906.

Stoker is seated, dressed formally in a dark three-piece suit with a waistcoat and tie. He has neatly groomed hair and a full beard, and his expression is calm yet serious.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bram_Stoker#/media/File:Bram_Stoker_1906.jpg

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182d

<p>The Kafka Challenge</p><p>Translating the Inimitable</p><p>by Paul Reitter</p><p><a href="https://hedgehogreview.com/issues/lessons-of-babel/articles/the-kafka-challenge?utm_source=Klaviyo&utm_medium=campaign&utm_id=01K6N5TBYYSCYEVDFQSBV94VXF&_kx=3MZUehzXM-41qlWAMPUiuNZadX2p0SByuNf_t0eMLB0.U5D8ER" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="hedgehogreview.com/issues/lessons-of-babel/articles/the-kafka-challenge?utm_source=Klaviyo&utm_medium=campaign&utm_id=01K6N5TBYYSCYEVDFQSBV94VXF&_kx=3MZUehzXM-41qlWAMPUiuNZadX2p0SByuNf_t0eMLB0.U5D8ER"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">hedgehogreview.com/issues/less</span><span class="invisible">ons-of-babel/articles/the-kafka-challenge?utm_source=Klaviyo&utm_medium=campaign&utm_id=01K6N5TBYYSCYEVDFQSBV94VXF&_kx=3MZUehzXM-41qlWAMPUiuNZadX2p0SByuNf_t0eMLB0.U5D8ER</span></a></p><p>Kafka at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1735" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1735"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/1735</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/translation/" rel="tag">#Translation</a></p>

Last known photograph of Franz Kafka, alternative version of File:Kafka.jpg. Most likely taken in 1923.

Unknown author - Franz Kafka: Pictures of a Life by Klaus Wagenbach (1984), p. 209; sourced to Klaus Wagenbach Archiv, Berlin https://kafkamuseum.cz/en/photogallery/

Kafka appears thin and pale. He wears a dark suit and tie with a white shirt, his posture upright but reserved. His face is gaunt, with pronounced cheekbones and deep-set eyes. His expression is neutral.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Kafka#/media/File:Franz_Kafka,_1923.jpg

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1y

<p>English poet, literary critic, translator, and playwright John Dryden died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1700.</p><p>Dryden was one of the most influential literary figures of his time and is often referred to as the "Father of English Criticism." As a poet, Dryden's works ranged from satires and political verse to heroic couplets and translations. He was also a prolific playwright, producing numerous comedies, tragedies, and heroic dramas. </p><p>Books by John Dryden at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/807" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/807"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/807</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a></p>

Description John Dryden (9 August 1631 – 12 May 1700) was an influential English poet, literary critic, translator, and playwright who dominated the literary life of Restoration England to such a point that the period came to be known in literary circles as the Age of Dryden. Dryden was born in the village rectory of Aldwincle near Thrapston in Northamptonshire, where his maternal grandfather was Rector of All Saints. He was the eldest of fourteen children born to Erasmus Dryden and wife Mary Pickering, paternal grandson of Sir Erasmus Dryden, 1st Baronet (1553-1632) and wife Frances Wilkes, Puritan landowning gentry who supported the Puritan cause and Parliament. He was also a second cousin once removed of Jonathan Swift.

The title page of The Hind and the Panther
John Dryden - https://archive.org/details/hindandpanther00dryduoft

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1y

<p>Brazilian novelist & journalist Lima Barreto was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1881.</p><p>His literary career began in the early 20th century, and he is best known for novels such as "Triste Fim de Policarpo Quaresma" - a bitter satire of the first years of the República Velha in Brazil, was published in 1911. Despite facing difficulties & setbacks during his lifetime (alcoholism and mental health issues), he continued to write until his death.</p><p>Books by Lima Barreto at PG<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/search/?query=Lima+Barreto&submit_search=Go%21" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/search/?query=Lima+Barreto&submit_search=Go%21"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/searc</span><span class="invisible">h/?query=Lima+Barreto&submit_search=Go%21</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Detail of Lima Barreto's first hospitalization form.

Cover page of Triste Fim de Polycarpo Quaresma by Lima Barreto

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171d

<p>Wanting to go,<br>all the leaves want to go<br>though they have achieved<br>their kingly robes.</p><p>Weary of colours,<br>they think of black earth,<br>they think of<br>white snow…</p><p>—Norman MacCaig, “Autumn”<br>published in The Poems of Norman MacCaig (Birlinn, 2009)</p><p><a href="https://birlinn.co.uk/2022/10/21/poem-of-the-week-autumn-by-norman-maccaig/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="birlinn.co.uk/2022/10/21/poem-of-the-week-autumn-by-norman-maccaig/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">birlinn.co.uk/2022/10/21/poem-</span><span class="invisible">of-the-week-autumn-by-norman-maccaig/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/20thcentury/" rel="tag">#20thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/normanmaccaig/" rel="tag">#NormanMacCaig</a> <a href="/tags/autumn/" rel="tag">#autumn</a></p>

Autumn
Norman MacCaig

Wanting to go,
all the leaves want to go
though they have achieved
their kingly robes.

Weary of colours,
they think of black earth,
they think of
white snow.

Stealthily, delicately
as a safebreaker
they unlock themselves
from branches.

And from their royal towers
they sift silently down
to become part of
the proletariat of mud.

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171d

<p>Autumn, and the nights are darkening.<br>The old lady tells us of her past once more.<br>She muses on the days she spent nursing</p><p>at ten shillings a month…</p><p>—Iain Crichton Smith, “The Old Lady”<br>published in NEW COLLECTED POEMS (Carcanet, 2011)</p><p><a href="https://www.carcanet.co.uk/9781857549607/new-collected-poems/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.carcanet.co.uk/9781857549607/new-collected-poems/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.carcanet.co.uk/97818575496</span><span class="invisible">07/new-collected-poems/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/20thcentury/" rel="tag">#20thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/autumn/" rel="tag">#autumn</a></p>

The Old Lady
Iain Crichton Smith

Autumn, and the nights are darkening.
The old lady tells us of her past once more.
She muses on the days she spent nursing

at ten shillings a month. ‘And what exams!
I could understand anything in those days.
What summers we had then, what lovely autumns.’

And so I imagine her cycling to her work
among the golden leaves, down avenues,
to hospitals which were disciplined and stark

with hard-faced matrons, doctors jovial
with an authority that was never quizzed,
while grizzled Death suckled at his phial,

and autumn glowed and died, outside the ward,
and girlishly she saw it fade in red
in sky and sheet, and evening was barred
with strange sweet clouds that hung above the bed.

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1y

<p>English writer of adventure fiction romances H. Rider Haggard died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1925.</p><p>Haggard's most famous work is "King Solomon's Mines," published in 1885. Haggard's other works include "Allan Quatermain" (1887), "Jess" (1887), "Nada the Lily" (1892), "The People of the Mist" (1894), and "The Brethren" (1904), among many others.</p><p>Books by H. Rider Haggard at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/365" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/365"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/365</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

English writer Henry Rider Haggard (1856-1925).

Black and white photo of a man sporting a beard.

Cover of The People of the Mist by H. Rider Haggard.

"The People of the Mist" is an adventure novel written by H. Rider Haggard, first published in 1894. Set in the late 17th century, the novel follows the journey of Leonard Outram, a young Englishman who travels to the wilds of Africa in search of adventure and fortune.

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1y

<p>Bengali polymath Rabindranath Tagore was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1861.</p><p>Tagore wrote poetry, short stories, novels, and plays. He is best known for his poetry, and his collection "Gitanjali" is particularly renowned. This work earned him the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913. By way of translations, Tagore influenced Pablo Neruda, Gabriela Mistral, Octavio Paz, José Ortega y Gasset, Zenobia Camprubí, and Juan Ramón Jiménez.</p><p>Books by Rabindranath Tagore at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/942" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/942"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/942</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

A photographic portrait of Rabindranath Tagore, date unknown.

Black and white portrait of an elderly Rabindranath Tagore with long white hair and a full beard, wearing a draped shawl. He looks off to the side with a thoughtful expression.

Title page of the 1913 Macmillan edition of Tagore's Gitanjali.

Cover of the 1913 edition of "Gitanjali" by Rabindranath Tagore, published by Macmillan and Co., Ltd., featuring the title, author's name, and an introduction by W. B. Yeats.

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171d

<p>“A man’s a man for a’ that” – how does he know?<br>Traipsing with his plough, the rural hero,<br>Swaggering down the lea-rigs, talking to mice…</p><p>—“James Macfarlan”, by Edwin Morgan<br>published in VIRTUAL & OTHER REALITIES (Carcanet, 1997)</p><p><a href="https://www.carcanet.co.uk/9781857543476/virtual-and-other-realities/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.carcanet.co.uk/9781857543476/virtual-and-other-realities/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.carcanet.co.uk/97818575434</span><span class="invisible">76/virtual-and-other-realities/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/scotstober/" rel="tag">#Scotstober</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a></p>

James Macfarlan
by Edwin Morgan

“A man’s a man for a’ that” – how does he know?
Traipsing with his plough, the rural hero,
Swaggering down the lea-rigs, talking to mice,
Sweating his sickly verses to entice
Lassies he’d never see again, strutting
Through the salons in his best breeches, rutting
In a cloud of claret, buttonholing
Lord This, sweet-talking Doctor That, bowling
His wit down levees, bosoms, siller quaichs –
D’ye think he’s ever heard the groans and skraighs
Of city gutters, or marked the shapes that wrap
Fog and smoke about them as if they could hap
Homelessness or keep hunger at bay? What,
Not heard or seen, but has he even thought
How some, and many, and more than many, survive,
Or don’t survive, on factory floors, or thrive
Or fail to thrive by foundry fires, or try
To find the words – sparks scatter and bolts fly –
That’s feeble – to show the new age its dark face?
The Carron Ironworks – how he laughed at the place,
Made a joke of our misery, passed on
To window-scratch his diamond-trivia, and swan
Through country-house and customs-post, servile
To the very gods from which he ought to resile!
“Liberty’s a glorious feast,” you said.
Is that right? Wouldn’t the poor rather have bread?
Burns man, I’m hard on you, I’m sorry for it.
I think such poetry is dangerous, that’s all.
Poetry must pierce the filthy wall
With cries that die on country ways. The glow
Of bonhomie will not let the future grow.

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