So I started my reading on Tuesday, July 5th, and my plan was to post at the end of every week. But I’m having lots of thoughts that I want to share, so I figure I’ll just post whenever I have the time/desire–probably writing a few blog posts in bursts every 2-3 days. I’m gonna do this journal-style, just talking you through each day/book and my thoughts, unless I find that that’s not working. Also I’m being super obnoxious and Instagramming every day of this, so I’ll include those pictures here. Without further ado:
Tuesday, July 5 – “My Life” by Isadora Duncan
I started off Tuesday by swimming at SPAC for some #cardio (self-care, amirite?) and then I sat on the Lakefill for a few hours to read. I moved into Deering because I was getting chilly (I do not spend nearly enough time in Deering; that place is freaking gorgeous), and then I took a break for a few hours to show some friends who were visiting around Evanston. I finished up the book in my apartment, accompanied by some coffee and cozy socks.
This first day of reading was hard. “My Life” is not a short book, and based on the schedule I made for myself (oh, yeah, I’ve planned out every moment of this URG period in a spreadsheet, by the way–maybe I’ll post it at the end) I needed to finish the whole thing today or I’d start this grant period off behind and that’s not good for anyone involved. (Yes, I know I’m the only person involved). As a result, I wound up reading for longer than 8 hours (more like 9-10, I think), but I felt so accomplished at the end of it.
I’ve been highlighting as I’m reading, and writing my reactions in the margins from time to time (a lot of “BYE”s when men are sexist, and some “WTF”s when the author says something absurd). I’m also marking key passages with sticky notes, and then at the end of the book I’m writing down the main subjects/ideas/notions that persisted throughout for easy reference at the end of the eight weeks.
In “My Life,” Duncan’s primary source of struggle is the tension between Love and Art (yes, she capitalizes those words, as well as words like Beauty and Fortune and Peace) in her life. She also marks the loss of her two children in a car accident as a turning point for her emotionally. She’s continually referencing and mentioning authors of all kinds; her primary fascination is with Walt Whitman (bae) as the true American poet–she wants to be his parallel in the dance world. There’s also a passage wherein she talks about George Gray Barnard, and the style in it is very different from the rest of her writing–far more Whitmanesque. The one other intriguing thing about “My Life” is that eyes seem to be super important to her, even though she doesn’t ever acknowledge that–that is to say, when she’s describing someone or talking about how/why she feels a certain way about someone, the eyes are always the first thing she mentions.
Oh, also, she’s seriously nuts.