Rosa Reads

Braiding

fuckyeahpoetry:

1.
We two sit on our bed, you
between my legs, your back to me, your head
slightly bowed, that I may brush and braid
your hair. My father
did this for my mother,
just as I do for you. One hand
holds the hem of you hair, the other
works the brush. Both hands climb
as the strokes grow
longer, until I use not only my wrists,
but my arms, then my shoulders, my whole body
rocking in a rower’s rhythm, a lover’s
even time, as the tangles are undone,
and brush and bare hand run the thick,
fluent length of your hair, whose wintry scent
comes, a faint, human musk.

2.
Last night the room was so cold
I dreamed we were in Pittsburgh again, where winter
persisted and we fell asleep in the last seat
of the 71 Negley, dark mornings going to work.
How I wish we didn’t hate those years
while we lived them.
Those were days of books,
days of silences stacked high
as the ceiling of that great, dim hall
where we studied. I remember
the thick, oak tabletops, how cool
they felt against my face
when I lay my head down and slept.

3.
How long your hair has grown. 

Gradually, December. 

4.
There will come a day
one of us will have to imagine this: you,
after your bath, crosslegged on the bed, sleepy, patient,
while I braid your hair.

5.
Here, what’s made, these braids, unmakes
itself in time, and must be made
again, within and against
time. So I braid
your hair each day.
My fingers gather, measure hair,
hook, pull and twist hair and hair.
Deft, quick, they plait,
weave, articulate lock and lock, to make
and make these braids, which point
the direction of my going, of all our continuous going.
And though what’s made does not abide,
my making is steadfast, and, besides, there is a making
of which this making-in-time is just a part,
a making which abides
beyond the hands which rise in the combing,
the hands which fall in the braiding,
trailing hair in each stage of its unbraiding.

6.
Love, how the hours accumulate. Uncountable.
The trees grow tall, some people walk away
and diminish forever.
The damp pewter days slip around without warning
and we cross over one year and one year.

- Li-Young Lee

Literary Adventures in Dublin

As mentioned previously, I spent a few days in January in Dublin. This was bittersweet in some ways, because I was very nearly going to be spending next year there, studying at Trinity College Dublin (attended by the likes of Oscar Wilde, James Joyce and Samuel Beckett!), but for various reasons decided to pull out. I’m still not entirely sure it was the best decision, but I suppose it’s the one I have to stick with.

Anyway, regardless, I had an incredible time there - and thanks to Dublin’s incredible literary heritage, much of it will be of interest to you guys!

So here is my photo story of all sorts of literature-based jollities:

This is the TCD library sign, which ended up being a better picture than the ones of the actual library, because it’s so large that you can’t possibly fit it in one photograph. Although I look dopey as all hell, of course.

This is the Reading Room at the National Library. I kind of wanted to live in it.

This reading hole was also in the National Library. I was overexcited. I also don’t count as a grown-up.

One of many Joyce quotes that littered the pavements. Pretty solid.

Reading Dubliners in Dublin! So meta, you guys. You can read my Final Review of it right over here.

I also spent some quality time in the TCD Old Library gift shop, and got a postcard of The Long Room (because you can’t take photos inside there, bastards) and some stickers of quotations from Irish writers. Because, you know, that’s how I roll. I took a picture of that just now, but I feel like that might be overkill on the photos front. Enjoy what you have, you ungrateful dogs.

Dubliners: Final Review

In January (oh good god this is so behind the times), I took a trip to Dublin to see the hilarious and wonderful Dara O’Briain live. I was only there for a couple of nights, but I had lots of lovely literary adventures, a post about which will be forthcoming, and of course had to theme my reading accordingly. Enter Mr Joyce.

[A picture of Dubliners actually in Dublin! I am too good to you guys.]

This was read mostly on the plane on the way to Dublin, thanks to a serious delay once we’d boarded, and so not necessarily very much in the city itself. It’s essentially pretty little sketches of the everyday lives of Dubliners, as if glimpsed through windows (even if it was glimpsed mostly through plane windows for me).

For me, it didn’t necessarily connect heavily to Dublin as a place, possibly because of the total change in culture that (naturally) happens in almost exactly 100 years. I found Dublin to be an absolutely modern, cosmopolitan city, despite its wonderful heritage. It felt brand new, and I sort of wish I’d brought some rather more recent Dublin-based literature with me. Maybe next time - I’d love to go back!

I’m going to tell it to you straight, kiddos - I’m not entirely sure I finished this. That would normally drive me insane, but because it’s made up of separate stories I suppose it bothers me less.

Final Review of Final Review: Enjoyable, of course, but perhaps a bit forgettable in the light of the real Dublin. Who knew reality could be better than fiction?

Anonymous asked: do you have any plans as far as career after University? do you plan to teach? or go on to graduate school?

Haha oh god I hate this question.

My plan is sort of non-existant at the moment. Immediately after university I’ll need to find a way of earning some money easily and quickly and…legally. This is in order to fund the masters programme at a fancy Ivy League school in the States THAT I WILL DEFINITELY BE ABLE TO GET ONTO.

After that…whoosht, who knows? I want to live in lots of different places and have a hundred and one different jobs. I don’t think I’ll ever teach, although if I was offered a lecturing position at a university then that’d be pretty sweet. I think I’d take well to a life of academia.

Things that I swear are honestly really genuinely going to appear on this blog in the not-too-distant future:

• A review of James Joyce’s The Dubliners.
• A post about my literary adventures in Dublin.
• A review of Téa Obreht’s The Tiger’s Wife.
• A review of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita.
• A review of Yann Martel’s Life of Pi.
• The beginning of my Apple Books feature.
• A review of the Hunger Games trilogy.

Dear everyone who told me to read The Hunger Games,

Screw you.

I have now had about eight hours of sleep in the last three days and have done no work on my essay that’s due in for Wednesday.

This is due to spending my days piddling around on the internet and pretending to work, and then spending my nights reading these bloody books.

I hope you’re all pleased with yourselves.

Regards,

Rosa.

thesidesofmountains asked: Oi, dickface, young adult fiction is my FAVOURITE THING EVER. And as we both know I have no problem getting laid. Also, you should know that the Hunger Games books are only okay, whilst I think John Green's books are genuinely wonderful. But the HG books are a fun read. I have them all if you want them?

Right, so here’s the thing…

Last night I downloaded the Kindle app on my iPad and bought The Hunger Games (for like £2.70! What an invention - prevents people from seeing what you’re reading and is a quarter of the price!). I watched The Apprentice in Claire’s bed until 1am. I then proceeded to read until 4:30am.

I have now finished the first book.

I have a bloody essay to write.

I knew these books were dangerous.

…Also, dickface yourself.

Anonymous asked: Sorry, I didn't mean to seem like I was on a high horse. To each their own, as far as genre is concerned. Example, I don't read romance, because I don't like it. But if I saw one that caught my attention, I wouldn't write it off because I don't typically read romance. I was just saying if you find it interesting, you might as well read it. The Hunger Games was a good series. And the movie was pretty good, too.

That’s completely alright, Anon, I’m just a very irritating and snippy person who tries to be funny and sarky too much to be likeable.

(And, according to one message I just got - also a “book snob” who needs to “stifle [my] ego for a while”. I’m afraid I won’t be posting this one, but I suppose that’s what I get for attacking a brand new fandom.)

You are, of course, completely right. And that’s why I’ll almost certainly end up reading The Hunger Games.

THERE, ARE WE ALL HAPPY NOW? I’LL DO IT, I’LL READ THEM.

Still not touching John Green, though. Much too popular.

theworldworshipstheoriginal asked: I'm 22. I've read the HG series, and watched the film, loved all of them. I am too somewhat of a literary snob. But sometimes you gotta relax and just enjoy a good read. It's like cheesy pop - you know it's kinda bad, but at 2am drunk with you friends, it's the best thing ever. Oh, and yeah. I do get laid.

This is pretty much the response I wanted. I just wanted some enablers, you guys.

Oh also? You have the same doggie as me if this is your dog. How exciting. Also you appear to be Swedish and if I’m correct then I’m very proud of myself that I correctly identified both the language in that post and also translated without the help of the interwebs because I am excellent.

Anonymous asked: I have to say, I think that the fact that you won't read YA is a little silly. I'm 23 and I read it. Also, some of the YA that has come out recently is extremely well written, with a lot of meaning and some of it is much better than some of the adult fiction that I have read recently. If it's something that you think you may find interesting, read it. It shouldn't matter what genre it is or whether there is a movie out about it. Oh, and reading YA doesn't mean you won't get laid. Trust me.

I knew I’d get these kind of replies. IT’S FUNNY, YOU GUYS. I’M A FUNNY PERSON.

People take stuff so seriously. Yeah yeah yeah, I know I’m being silly, but it’s allowed, okay? No need for high horses and morality on this blog, y’all.

Also everyone who has sent me a message about this has ended it with a reassurance that they are, in fact, getting laid. This is very funny to me.