literature

140d

<p>What are you going to do<br>With what is left of yourself<br>Now among the rustling<br>Of your maybe best years?</p><p>—WS Graham, “An Entertainment for WS Graham for Him Having Reached Sixty-Five”</p><p>The Modernist romantic poet W.S. Graham (1918–1986) was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a>, 19 November</p><p>A 🎂 🧵</p><p>1/7</p><p><a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/145184/an-entertainment-for-ws-graham-for-him-having-reached-sixty-five" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/145184/an-entertainment-for-ws-graham-for-him-having-reached-sixty-five"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.poetryfoundation.org/poetr</span><span class="invisible">ymagazine/poems/145184/an-entertainment-for-ws-graham-for-him-having-reached-sixty-five</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/modernism/" rel="tag">#modernism</a> <a href="/tags/romanticism/" rel="tag">#romanticism</a> <a href="/tags/wsgraham/" rel="tag">#WSGraham</a></p>

An Entertainment for W.S. Graham for Him Having Reached Sixty-Five
by W. S. Graham

What are you going to do
With what is left of yourself
Now among the rustling
Of your maybe best years?
This is not an auto-elegy
With me pouring my heart
Out into where you
Differently stand or sit
On the Epidaurus steps.
What shall I say to myself
Having put myself down
On to a public page?

Where am I going now?
And where are you going
Tricked into reading
Words of my later life?
Let me pretend you are
Roughly of my age.
Are you a boy or a girl?
And what has happened to you?

Look at the chirping various
Leaves of Mr Graham’s
Spanking summer. Where are
You at? I know my face
Has changed. My hair has blanched
Into a wrong disguise
Sitting on top of my head.

Beside each other perched
On the Epidaurus steps.
Where am I going to go?
Shall I rise to follow
The thin sound of the goats
Tinkling their bells?

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140d

<p>Centre for Robert Burns Studies Conference<br>17 January, University of Glasgow – £25 (includes tea, coffee, lunch, & a toast) </p><p>A day conference exploring the life, work, & legacy of Robert Burns.This year, the conference theme is the Burns Supper: a global phenomenon that celebrates its 225th anniversary in 2026.</p><p>@litstudies </p><p><a href="https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/centre-for-robert-burns-studies-conference-tickets-1851549627779" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/centre-for-robert-burns-studies-conference-tickets-1851549627779"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/centre-</span><span class="invisible">for-robert-burns-studies-conference-tickets-1851549627779</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/robertburns/" rel="tag">#RobertBurns</a> <a href="/tags/18thcentury/" rel="tag">#18thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/song/" rel="tag">#song</a> <a href="/tags/romanticism/" rel="tag">#romanticism</a> <a href="/tags/burnssupper/" rel="tag">#BurnsSupper</a></p>

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1y

<p>“The Crocodile,” Dostoevsky’s Weirdest Short Story.</p><p>Why being eaten by a crocodile named Little Karl is really a lesson in the dangers of foreign capital.</p><p>By: Emily Zarevich via @JSTOR_Daily </p><p><a href="https://daily.jstor.org/the-crocodile-dostoevskys-weirdest-short-story/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="daily.jstor.org/the-crocodile-dostoevskys-weirdest-short-story/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">daily.jstor.org/the-crocodile-</span><span class="invisible">dostoevskys-weirdest-short-story/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

“The Crocodile,” Dostoevsky’s Weirdest Short Story.

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1y

<p>American activist and author Jane Addams died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1935.</p><p>Addams co-founded Hull House, one of America's most famous settlement houses, in Chicago, Illinois, providing extensive social services to poor, largely immigrant families. In 1910, Addams was awarded an honorary Master of Arts degree from Yale University, becoming the first woman to receive an honorary degree from the school.</p><p>Books by Jane Addams at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/602" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/602"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/602</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Sociologist, suffragette, social worker, philosopher, and Nobel Peace Prize winner Jane Addams, in 1924 or 1926 (the way the date is written (mirror image, at top of the TIFF version) is probably 3-2-26, but could be 3-2-24.

An elderly woman wearing a black coat and hat stands on a boat, exuding a timeless elegance.

Title page of Newer ideals of peace by Jane Addams

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124d

<p>What do you do when the sun forgets to come out<br>in the longest darkness of winter months?<br>Bueno I go out into the frosted forest<br>all things twinkling with ice like tiny eyes with a lust for life…</p><p>—Juana Adcock, “What do you do…”<br>published in SPLIT (Blue Diode, 2019)</p><p><a href="https://www.bluediode.co.uk/product-page/split-by-juana-adcock" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.bluediode.co.uk/product-page/split-by-juana-adcock"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.bluediode.co.uk/product-pa</span><span class="invisible">ge/split-by-juana-adcock</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/mexico/" rel="tag">#Mexico</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/winter/" rel="tag">#winter</a> <a href="/tags/scots/" rel="tag">#Scots</a> <a href="/tags/scotslanguage/" rel="tag">#Scotslanguage</a> <a href="/tags/multilingualism/" rel="tag">#multilingualism</a></p>

Poetry Book Society postcard for Joana Adcock’s collection SPLIT, Winter 2019 Choice. Next to an abstract pattern on black cracks is the text of a poem:

What do you do when the sun forgets to come out
in the longest darkness of winter months?
Bueno I go out into the frosted forest
all things twinkling with ice like tiny eyes with a lust for life
and leaves crunching underfoot
glaciers chippit oot her glens
ahint ahint ahí atrás estás
están
las stars
staunin still

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33d

<p>Creative Conversations: Rachelle Atalla<br>9 March, University of Glasgow – free</p><p>The perfect escape. The perfect nightmare.</p><p>Rachelle Atalla discusses her unsettling, creepy, & claustrophobic novel, THE SALT FLATS</p><p><a href="https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/creative-conversations-rachelle-atalla-tickets-1984284674878" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/creative-conversations-rachelle-atalla-tickets-1984284674878"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/creativ</span><span class="invisible">e-conversations-rachelle-atalla-tickets-1984284674878</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/novel/" rel="tag">#novel</a> <a href="/tags/thriller/" rel="tag">#thriller</a></p>

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137d

<p>I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion<br>Has broken Nature’s social union,<br>An’ justifies that ill opinion,‍‍<br>‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍Which makes thee startle,<br>At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,‍‍<br>‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍An’ fellow-mortal!</p><p>—Robert Burns, “To a Mouse, On turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785”</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/robertburns/" rel="tag">#RobertBurns</a> <a href="/tags/scots/" rel="tag">#Scots</a> <a href="/tags/scotlsanguage/" rel="tag">#Scotlsanguage</a> <a href="/tags/environmentalism/" rel="tag">#environmentalism</a> <a href="/tags/naturewriting/" rel="tag">#naturewriting</a> <a href="/tags/18thcentury/" rel="tag">#18thCentury</a> <a href="/tags/romanticism/" rel="tag">#Romanticism</a> <a href="/tags/november/" rel="tag">#November</a> <a href="/tags/winter/" rel="tag">#winter</a></p>

To a Mouse, On turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785.
Robert Burns

Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,‍‍
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee‍‍
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,‍‍
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,‍‍
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave‍‍
’S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,‍‍
An’ never miss’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,‍‍
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,‍‍
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,‍‍
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past‍‍
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,‍‍
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,‍‍
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men‍‍
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,‍‍
For promis’d joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,‍‍
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I canna see,‍‍
I guess an’ fear!

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1y

<p><a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1911.</p><p>Wilhelm Apollinaris de Kostrowitzky, writing as "Guillaume Apollinaire", is suspected in the theft of the Mona Lisa and a number of Egyptian statuettes from the Louvre museum in Paris on August 21 and imprisoned for six days. This year he publishes his first book of poetry, Le Bestiaire ou Cortège d'Orphée.</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillaume_Apollinaire" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillaume_Apollinaire"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillaum</span><span class="invisible">e_Apollinaire</span></a></p><p>Books by Guillaume Apollinaire at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/6075" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/6075"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/6075</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

La Joconde est Retrouvée (Mona Lisa Found), Le Petit Parisien, Numéro 13559, 13 December 1913

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1y

<p>American poet and playwright Georgia Douglas Johnson was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1880.</p><p>Her first collection of poetry, "The Heart of a Woman" (1918), was one of the earliest books of poetry published by a Black woman in the United States. Her second volume, "Bronze" (1922), focuses more explicitly on racial issues, delving into the experiences of Black Americans and the injustices they faced in society. </p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgia_Douglas_Johnson" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgia_Douglas_Johnson"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgia_</span><span class="invisible">Douglas_Johnson</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> <a href="/tags/theatre/" rel="tag">#theatre</a></p>

In the portrait, Georgia Douglas Johnson is depicted as a poised and elegant woman, likely in her middle years during the height of her literary career. Her facial features are soft yet defined, with a composed and thoughtful expression. She might have short, wavy hair styled in a way that reflects the fashion of the early 20th century, which adds to her sense of modernity and sophistication.

Johnson would likely be dressed in a formal, yet stylish outfit, reflecting both her literary status and her role as a leading cultural figure. A brooch or simple piece of jewelry might also be present, adding a touch of personal style.

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1y

<p>Spanish writer Francisco Gómez de Quevedo y Villegas died <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1645.</p><p>Along with his lifelong rival, Luis de Góngora, Quevedo was one of the most prominent Spanish poets of the age. His style is characterized by what was called conceptismo. This style existed in stark contrast to Góngora's culteranismo.</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francisco_de_Quevedo" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francisco_de_Quevedo"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francisc</span><span class="invisible">o_de_Quevedo</span></a></p><p>Books by Francisco de Quevedo at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/35792" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/35792"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/35792</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 celebrated Spanish poet and writer, Francisco de Quevedo, attributed to Juan van der Hamen, 17th century (Instituto Valencia de Don Juan).

In the portrait, Francisco de Quevedo is depicted as a middle-aged man with a serious, contemplative expression. His distinctive facial features include a long, narrow face, a prominent mustache, and a goatee. One of the most notable details is the presence of Quevedo’s signature pince-nez glasses, which rest on his nose. These round spectacles are closely associated with Quevedo and emphasize his scholarly image.

Quevedo is dressed in the formal attire typical of a Spanish nobleman and intellectual of the 17th century. He wears a dark, austere robe, which contrasts with the lighter tones of his skin and the dark background.

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1y

<p>"Strengthen the female mind by enlarging it, and there will be an end to blind obedience."<br>A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (ed. 1793)</p><p>British writer, philosopher, and advocate of women's rights Mary Wollstonecraft was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1759. In "A Vindication of the Rights of Woman" (1792), Wollstonecraft argued that women are not naturally inferior to men but appear so only because of a lack of education. </p><p>Books by Mary Wollstonecraft at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/84" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/84"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/84</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

A classic oil painting depicts Mary Wollstonecraft wearing a white v-neck gown with a soft, flowing texture. The attire seems to be of a delicate fabric that drapes elegantly around the figure's arms and chest. The background is predominantly dark, contrasting with the bright white of the gown. The figure's hair appears to be styled up and away from the face, with hints of brown tones, which suggests a sense of sophistication and poise.

An old, worn book opened to the title page which reads "A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN: WITH STRICTURES ON POLITICAL AND MORAL SUBJECTS. BY MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT. PRINTED AT BOSTON, BY PETER EDES FOR THOMAS AND ANDREWS, FAUST'S STATE, NO. 45, NEWBURY-STREET, MDCCXCIX." The text is in black capital letters centered on the page with a decorative monogram between the author's name and the printer information.

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139d

<p>Chateaubriand, Writing of a Worthless Time</p><p>Chateaubriand (1768–1848), Breton aristocrat and writer, rose to fame with Atala and René. Once a supporter of Napoleon and the Bourbons, he later condemned both for repression and censorship.</p><p>By Alex Andriesse</p><p><a href="https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2025/11/19/chateaubriand-writing-of-a-worthless-time/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.theparisreview.org/blog/2025/11/19/chateaubriand-writing-of-a-worthless-time/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.theparisreview.org/blog/20</span><span class="invisible">25/11/19/chateaubriand-writing-of-a-worthless-time/</span></a></p><p>Chateaubriand at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/7255" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/7255"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/7255</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/history/" rel="tag">#history</a></p>

Antoine-Jean-Baptiste Thomas, Louis XVIII Receiving the Duc d’Angoulême on His Return from the Spanish Campaign, December 2, 1823.

In this oil-on-canvas history painting King Louis XVIII, seated and visibly frail, warmly greets his nephew Louis Antoine, the victorious Duc d’Angoulême, just returned from commanding the French intervention in Spain. The duke stands proudly before him, dressed in full military uniform.

Around them are key members of the Bourbon family: behind the duke is Marie-Thérèse Charlotte (“Madame Royale”), his wife, gazing up at him with admiration; to the left of the king stands Charles, Count of Artois (future Charles X), holding the young Duke of Bordeaux in his arms; nearby is the Duchess of Berry with her daughter.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Louis_XVIII_re%C3%A7oit_le_duc_d%27Angoul%C3%AAme_au_retour_de_la_guerre_d%27Espagne,_2_d%C3%A9cembre_1823.jpg

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139d

<p>Whole Duty of Children<br>by Robert Louis Stevenson</p><p>A child should always say what’s true<br>And speak when he is spoken to,<br>And behave mannerly at table:<br>At least as far as he is able.</p><p>—from A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES (1885)</p><p>Today, 20 November, is World Children’s Day.</p><p><a href="https://www.unicef.org/take-action/campaigns/world-childrens-day" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.unicef.org/take-action/campaigns/world-childrens-day"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.unicef.org/take-action/cam</span><span class="invisible">paigns/world-childrens-day</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/19thcentury/" rel="tag">#19thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/children/" rel="tag">#children</a> <a href="/tags/childrensliterature/" rel="tag">#childrensliterature</a> <a href="/tags/kidlit/" rel="tag">#kidlit</a> <a href="/tags/robertlouisstevenson/" rel="tag">#RobertLouisStevenson</a> <a href="/tags/worldchildrensday/" rel="tag">#WorldChildrensDay</a></p>

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1y

<p>"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into an enormous insect."<br>First lines</p><p>In October 1915.</p><p>Franz Kafka's seminal novella The Metamorphosis (Die Verwandlung) is first published in Die Weißen Blätter. Kafka finishes writing The Trial this year, but it will not be published until 1925, the year after his death.</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Metamorphosis" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Metamorphosis"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Meta</span><span class="invisible">morphosis</span></a></p><p>The Metamorphosis at PG, translated by David Wyllie:<br><a href="https://gutenberg.org/ebooks/5200" rel="nofollow"><span class="invisible">https://</span>gutenberg.org/ebooks/5200</a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Edited 1y ago

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139d

<p>“At this novel’s heart – as with all Kelman’s work – is an unfettered inner voice, a living consciousness in motion… Kelman gifts us the consciousness of childhood as an eternal experience”</p><p>—Alan Warner on James Kelman’s 2008 novel KIERON SMITH, BOY</p><p>@bookstodon </p><p><a href="https://www.productmagazine.co.uk/books/world-book-trip/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.productmagazine.co.uk/books/world-book-trip/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.productmagazine.co.uk/book</span><span class="invisible">s/world-book-trip/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/novel/" rel="tag">#novel</a> <a href="/tags/children/" rel="tag">#children</a> <a href="/tags/childhood/" rel="tag">#childhood</a> <a href="/tags/worldchildrensday/" rel="tag">#WorldChildrensDay</a></p>

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1y

<p>English novelist, poet, playwright, and critic D. H. Lawrence was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> in 1885.</p><p>Four of his most famous novels — Sons and Lovers, The Rainbow, Women in Love , and Lady Chatterley's Lover— were the subject of censorship trials for their radical portrayals of sexuality and use of explicit language.</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D._H._Lawrence" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D._H._Lawrence"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D._H._La</span><span class="invisible">wrence</span></a></p><p>Books by D.H. Lawrence at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/123" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/123"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/123</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/literarycriticism/" rel="tag">#literarycriticism</a></p>

Passport photograph of the British author D. H. Lawrence, enclosed in a letter to Bernard Falk (1882–1960), dated 24 February 1929.

D. H. Lawrence is shown from the shoulders up, in a close-up portrait. He is likely around 43 years old, with his signature short, dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard, both streaked with hints of gray, which give him a distinguished, slightly rugged appearance. His face is thin, with sharp, angular features, reflecting both the toll of his health struggles and his intellectual vigor. His expression is serious, with an intense, focused gaze typical of someone deeply reflective.

Lawrence is dressed in a formal jacket, possibly a dark suit or coat, as would be expected in a passport photo of the period. The collar of his shirt is visible, neatly folded under his jacket, though the tie, if present, would be partially obscured by the frame.

As this is a passport photo, Lawrence is seated facing directly toward the camera, in a straightforward and neutral position. The image is cropped closely around his face and upper torso, in line with the typical format for official identification photos. His posture is upright, and his head is held high, reflecting a sense of formality and self-possession.

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139d

<p>Trouble is not my middle name.<br>It is not what I am.<br>I was not born for this…</p><p>—Liz Lochhead, “Listen”<br>A poem written for the Children’s Panel, to encourage new voluntary members, 2012. Published in FUGITIVE COLOURS (Polygon, 2016)</p><p><a href="https://birlinn.co.uk/product/fugitive-colours/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="birlinn.co.uk/product/fugitive-colours/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">birlinn.co.uk/product/fugitive</span><span class="invisible">-colours/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/childhood/" rel="tag">#childhood</a> <a href="/tags/children/" rel="tag">#children</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/worldchildrensday/" rel="tag">#WorldChildrensDay</a></p>

Listen
by Liz Lochhead

Written for the Children’s Panel, to encourage new voluntary members, 2012.

Trouble is not my middle name.
It is not what I am.
I was not born for this.
Trouble is not a place
though I am in it deeper than the deepest wood
and I’d get out of it (who wouldn’t?) if I could.

Hope is what I do not have in hell –
not without good help, now. Could you
listen, listen hard and well
to what I cannot say except by what I do?

And when you say I do it for badness
this much is true:
I do it for badness done to me before
any badness that I do to you.

Hard to unfankle this.
But you can help me.
Maybe.
Loosen
all these knots and really listen.
I cannot plainly tell you this, but, if you care,
then – beyond all harm and hurt –
real hope is there.

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139d

<p>See ma mammy<br>See ma dinner ticket<br>A pititnma<br>Pokit an she pititny<br>Washnmachine…</p><p>—Margaret Hamilton, “Lament for a Lost Dinner Ticket”<br>published in NEW POEMS 1972–73: a PEN anthology of contemporary poetry, ed. Douglas Dunn (Hutchinson, 1973)</p><p><a href="https://www.scotslanguage.com/articles/node/id/21" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.scotslanguage.com/articles/node/id/21"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.scotslanguage.com/articles</span><span class="invisible">/node/id/21</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/childhood/" rel="tag">#childhood</a> <a href="/tags/children/" rel="tag">#children</a> <a href="/tags/scots/" rel="tag">#Scots</a> <a href="/tags/scotslanguage/" rel="tag">#Scotslanguage</a> #<a href="/tags/worldchildrensday/" rel="tag">#WorldChildrensDay</a></p>

Lament for a Lost Dinner Ticket
Margaret Hamilton

See ma mammy
See ma dinner ticket
A pititnma
Pokit an she pititny
Washnmachine.

See thon burnty
Up wherra firewiz
Ma mammy says Am no tellynagain
No’y playnit.
A jist wen’y eatma
Pokacrisps furma dinner
Nabigwoffldoon.

The wummin sed Aver near
Clapsd
Jistur heednur
Wee wellies sticknoot.

They sed Wot heppind?
Nme’nma belly
Na bedna hospital.
A sed A pititnma
Pokit an she pititny
Washnmachine.

They sed Ees thees chaild eb slootly
Non verbal?
A sed MA BUMSAIR
Nwen’y sleep.

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139d

<p><a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a> In 1858, Swedish writer Selma Lagerlöf was born.</p><p>"She published her first novel, Gösta Berling's Saga, at the age of 33. She was the first woman to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, which she was awarded in 1909. In 1914, she was the first woman to be granted a membership of the Swedish Academy"</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selma_Lagerl%C3%B6f" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selma_Lagerl%C3%B6f"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selma_La</span><span class="invisible">gerl%C3%B6f</span></a></p><p>Books by Lagerlöf at PG:</p><p><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1717" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1717"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/1717</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Photograph of Selma Lagerlöf.

Edited 139d ago

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138d

<p>The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out<br>Through the blinds and the windows and bars;<br>And high overhead and all moving about,<br>There were thousands of millions of stars…</p><p>—Robert Louis Stevenson, “Escape at Bedtime”<br>from A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES (1885)</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/childrensliterature/" rel="tag">#Childrensliterature</a> <a href="/tags/kidlit/" rel="tag">#kidlit</a> <a href="/tags/childhood/" rel="tag">#childhood</a> <a href="/tags/children/" rel="tag">#children</a> <a href="/tags/19thcentury/" rel="tag">#19thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/victorian/" rel="tag">#Victorian</a> <a href="/tags/robertlouisstevenson/" rel="tag">#RobertLouisStevenson</a> <a href="/tags/worldchildrensday/" rel="tag">#WorldChildrensDay</a></p>

Escape at Bedtime
by Robert Louis Stevenson

The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out
Through the blinds and the windows and bars;
And high overhead and all moving about,
There were thousands of millions of stars.
There ne’er were such thousands of leaves on a tree,
Nor of people in church or the Park,
As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,
And that glittered and winked in the dark.

The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all,
And the star of the sailor, and Mars,
These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall
Would be half full of water and stars.
They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,
And they soon had me packed into bed;
But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,
And the stars going round in my head.

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92d

<p>Playwright & artist John Byrne (1940–2023) was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a>, 6 Jan. An extraordinary talent, best known for the SLAB BOYS trilogy & TUTTI FRUTTI & YOUR CHEATIN’ HEART, he also designed album covers for Gerry Rafferty & the set for THE CHEVIOT, THE STAG & THE BLACK BLACK OIL</p><p>A 🎂🧵</p><p>1/8</p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/art/" rel="tag">#art</a> <a href="/tags/playwright/" rel="tag">#playwright</a> <a href="/tags/screenwriter/" rel="tag">#screenwriter</a> <a href="/tags/albumart/" rel="tag">#albumart</a> <a href="/tags/artist/" rel="tag">#artist</a> <a href="/tags/painter/" rel="tag">#painter</a> <a href="/tags/johnbyrne/" rel="tag">#JohnByrne</a></p>

“The Riddie”, by John Byrne, 2018, ink & watercolour on board.

A stylised head-and-shoudlers self-portrait of the artist. A long forelock of grey hair dangles down from his forehead as he looks askance out of the painting. His eyes are large and expressive, his nose triangular and enormous. His mouth is hidden behind a bristling white moustache and beard, and an unlit cigarette pokes out from between them.

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138d

<p>The 100 Greatest Novels of All Time, According to 750,000 Readers in the UK (2003)</p><p><a href="https://www.openculture.com/2025/10/the-100-greatest-novels-of-all-time-according-to-750000-readers-in-the-uk-2003.html" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.openculture.com/2025/10/the-100-greatest-novels-of-all-time-according-to-750000-readers-in-the-uk-2003.html"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.openculture.com/2025/10/th</span><span class="invisible">e-100-greatest-novels-of-all-time-according-to-750000-readers-in-the-uk-2003.html</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

bookshelf

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34d

<p>These are the hills, these are the woods,<br>These are my starry solitudes;<br>And there the river by whose brink<br>The roaring lions come to drink…</p><p>—Robert Louis Stevenson, “The Land of Story-Books”<br>from A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES<br>📚🛋️🦁</p><p>A poem for World Book Day (UK & Ireland) <br>🖼️ by Roger Duvoisin, 1944</p><p>@bookstodon </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/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/robertlouisstevenson/" rel="tag">#RobertLouisStevenson</a> <a href="/tags/19thcentury/" rel="tag">#19thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/victorian/" rel="tag">#Victorian</a> <a href="/tags/imagination/" rel="tag">#imagination</a> <a href="/tags/worldbookday/" rel="tag">#WorldBookDay</a> <a href="/tags/kidlit/" rel="tag">#kidlit</a> <a href="/tags/childrensliterature/" rel="tag">#childrensliterature</a></p>

The Land of Story-Books
by Robert Louis Stevenson

At evening, when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.

There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.

These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.

I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.

So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story-books.

A black-and-white illustration for Robert Louis Stevenson's poem “The Land of Story-Books”. A large, black, ornate, Victorian armchair sits in a shadowy corner. A small boy peeks out behind it, pointing a toy rifle. Behind him are images from his imagination: a smouldering campfire; the faces of two (quite friendly-looking) lions; a native American, wearing a feathered war-bonnet and wielding a tomahawk, can be seen behind the chair; and a sly-looking wolf prowls on the left edge of the frame.

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138d

<p>Cauld, cauld as the wall<br>That rins frae under the snaw<br>On Ben a’Bhuird…</p><p>—Nan Shepherd, “Cauld, cauld as the wall”<br>published in A KIST O SKINKLAN THINGS (ASL, 2017)</p><p><a href="https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/a-kist-o-skinlan-things/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="asls.org.uk/publications/books/volumes/a-kist-o-skinlan-things/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">asls.org.uk/publications/books</span><span class="invisible">/volumes/a-kist-o-skinlan-things/</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/scots/" rel="tag">#Scots</a> <a href="/tags/scotslanguage/" rel="tag">#Scotslanguage</a> <a href="/tags/winter/" rel="tag">#winter</a></p>

Nan Shepherd
Cauld, cauld as the wall

Cauld, cauld as the wall
That rins frae under the snaw
On Ben a’Bhuird,
And fierce, and bricht,
This water’s nae for ilka mou,
But him that’s had a waucht or noo
Nae wersh auld waters o the plain
Can sloke again,
But aye he clim’s the weary hicht
To fin’ the wall that lowps like licht,
Caulder than mou can thole, and aye
The warld cries out on him for fey.

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26d

<p>“Read it now” – Ursula K. Le Guin</p><p>Weaving folklore, fairy tale & Norse myth into a shimmering, witty & slyly subversive tapestry, Naomi Mitchison’s TRAVEL LIGHT – a rediscovered gem of classic fantasy writing – has just been republished in the UK by Virago</p><p>@bookstodon </p><p><a href="https://store.virago.co.uk/products/travel-light" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="store.virago.co.uk/products/travel-light"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">store.virago.co.uk/products/tr</span><span class="invisible">avel-light</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/fantasy/" rel="tag">#fantasy</a> <a href="/tags/kidlit/" rel="tag">#kidlit</a> <a href="/tags/20thcentury/" rel="tag">#20thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/womenswriting/" rel="tag">#womenswriting</a> <a href="/tags/ursulaleguin/" rel="tag">#ursulaLeGuin</a> <a href="/tags/naomimitchison/" rel="tag">#NaomiMitchison</a> <a href="/tags/folklore/" rel="tag">#folklore</a> <a href="/tags/mythology/" rel="tag">#mythology</a></p>

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