the box and the list and...

enter mike schwartz and gray skies. perhaps the rains will return this weekend, thusly adding fire to my longing to sit and read and read and read. today the squirrels were out en masse on my run. tucking away their nuts for the winter, lunging beneath the arms of giant trees. oh how enormous these bodies must seem to them, at yet small at the same time for they have understood them better than we. they live within the souls of these gentle beasts, and wouldn't dream of tearing them from the earth.

last week, i sent the aforementioned and wigged mike, a list of my ten favorite books. i'm not sure i like or even believe in the concept of 'ten favorite anything' so rather than think about it, i just punched out the first ten that have stuck indelibly in my memory. in no specific order:

one hundred years of solitude, gabriel garcia marquez
love in the time of cholera, gabriel garcia marquez
jitterbug perfume, tom robbins
crime and punishment, fyodor dostoevsky
east of eden, john steinbeck
the poisonwood bible, barbara kingsolver
the road home, jim harrison
the magus, john fowles
the god of small things, arundhati roy
for whom the bell tolls, ernest hemingway

can i list more? the almost top ten? tomorrow's top ten? what the hell does 'top ten' mean anyway? do you have a list of ten? i laugh at the human tendency to rate everything. place things in boxes. scrunch them down to fit. life isn't like that, for tomorrow it could all change. the box and the list and the thoughts therein.

Posted by jeff pitcher at November 13, 2003 12:37 PM

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