To read only children's books
To cherish only children's thoughts.
All grownup things to disperse far away
And to rise from a deep sorrow.
Osip Mandelstam
trans. Dmitri Smirnov
This past week I began re-reading the Odyssey, in Robert Fagles magnificent translation. As I've been reading, I've been reminded that my initial introduction to Homer was not so much textual as visual.
As a child I was fortunate indeed to have come across the Golden Book Illiad and the Odyssey that immediately captured my imagination. Even as a child, (or perhaps, particularly as a child) I must admit, many children's books seemed to me to be, well, childish. Either clumsily drawn and painted, cloyingly sentimental or both. More what the illustrator thought a child should want to look at rather at than what a child would actually want to see.
But this book was different.
Superbly illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen (not that at the time I paid any attention to who the artists were), I was immediately drawn-in. I was enthralled by the wonderfully vibrant and dynamic line work and bold, expressive painting.
By the flawless page composition .
The large folio format of the book.
And as a nine-year old, I loved the charioteers and heavily armored warriors with swords and spears fighting each other.
This past week I began re-reading the Odyssey, in Robert Fagles magnificent translation. As I've been reading, I've been reminded that my initial introduction to Homer was not so much textual as visual.
As a child I was fortunate indeed to have come across the Golden Book Illiad and the Odyssey that immediately captured my imagination. Even as a child, (or perhaps, particularly as a child) I must admit, many children's books seemed to me to be, well, childish. Either clumsily drawn and painted, cloyingly sentimental or both. More what the illustrator thought a child should want to look at rather at than what a child would actually want to see.
But this book was different.
Superbly illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen (not that at the time I paid any attention to who the artists were), I was immediately drawn-in. I was enthralled by the wonderfully vibrant and dynamic line work and bold, expressive painting.
The large folio format of the book.
And as a nine-year old, I loved the charioteers and heavily armored warriors with swords and spears fighting each other.
Inevitably, I suppose, beginning with the death of my sister, I learned more about deep sorrow than I'd ever thought possible. I had to quickly put away children's thoughts.
But that child's book which I was reminded of again this week, I continue to cherish.
