In a Dark Time

March 16, 2020

From Toby–

We are entering into a crisis that is unknowable. There are so many difficulties in this moment– it feels easy to get lost in the anxiety and uncertainty. My go-to coping mechanism is to DO SOMETHING– and not just hoard toilet paper (though I understand that strange temptation). I celebrate how local groups are reaching out to connect with the most vulnerable, I am finding the balance between social distancing and offering kindness in interactions. Meanwhile, I think it is important that we find ways to continue the rich and connecting work of the Salons.

For the current on-going studies (three Prousts and one Finnegans Wake): we will take it on-line this week. This is something I have always meant to do– and now is the perfect moment. This also opens up the possibilities for other on-line studies: once I have played with he technology this week, I will post some other studies that will be on-line at a reduced cost for those who would like a focused reading experience while at home in the coming weeks.

For the coming travelling studies: We are making decisions about these as we go forward. The coming Proust trip scheduled for mid-April, for example, will be re-scheduled for the fall. I will do everything possible to go forward with he trips as planned, but recognise that for everyone’s safety and peace of mind, several will need to be re-scheduled and that is going to present challenges for everyone. I really appreciate the patience and flexibility participants have shown thus far.

The middle-of-the-night thoughts are not about scheduling nor refunds, logistics –but about loss. Loss of loved ones, loss of friends, loss of certainty. In our last in-person meeting, one of the many wise souls I have come to know in the Salon community framed the time as a wrenching– and an opening. Perhaps we will get through this time with a different, healthier sense of ourselves and our connections to each other and the earth.

I hope for ease for all.

 

In a Dark Time

In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood—
A lord of nature weeping to a tree.
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.
What’s madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
That place among the rocks—is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.
A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is—
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.
Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.

 

March 2020: Coming studies and new postings

Courses coming with spaces remaining:
Beloved four weeks starting mid-April
The Years—Five-day intensive study in St Ives April (two spaces available)
Yoga and Literary Retreat in Umbria early June of Henry James: The Portrait of a Lady –one space available
A Mercy Two meetings; June 2020
The Iliad  One-week travel study on the island of Agistri in Greece September 2020

We are trying to squeeze in a few more studies in the coming months—I am inspired by a recent study of Toni Morrison’s A Mercy and am offering a short study of this powerful work in June. Having just finished a rich study of Jazz with Geoff Brown we realised how much is packed into these fluid pages—I need another look– aiming for a study in the autumn.
Coming in April, I am offering a Beloved four-week study—this is such a complex and powerful read, each tour through the loaded and lyric pages yields insights on racism, parenting, the claim of the ancestors, the hunger for beauty in an abject world…

After two sold-out trips to Greece to read Homer’s Odyssey, we’re very excited to announce a week-long study this September in Greece to explore the Iliad. This time, facilitator Mark Cwik will be your guide into Homer. Mark is just wrapping up our study here in London of the myths and legends of Troy, and will be bringing that rich background to this immersion into the world of the Iliad.

I am preparing my first study of Virginia Woolf’s final book, The Years. We are combining this with the essays she composed (gathered in the Leaska-edited volume The Pargiters)  to comment on the politics she was addressing through the fiction. This study, five days in beautiful St Ives, is a unique opportunity to delve into the on-going question of the ability of narrative art to act politically. Woolf also looks directly at the sexual suppression of her time and how this translates into broken relationships in intimate as well as social spaces.
The group currently moving through the layers of honeysuckle and nihilism in Sound and the Fury have found much to consider—and as with many studies, our work will extend beyond the final meeting with an after-math gathering. We will endure.

The current long-term studies in the Salon exemplify the connections and depth available when we spend time intensely  working through the web of ideas held in significant literature. These long-term studies also provide a safe space to consider afresh the hard parts of our lives. Great art reflects the contradictions of ourselves—and in our work together, we move beyond the limits of our own perspective and experience.
Our Finnegans Wake group has been meeting for two and half years—and we aren’t done yet. Each meeting covers about five pages of text—in that time we may travel from Paradise Lost references to Emily Dickinson, sexual exploits to toxic masculinity, cyclical history…and constantly opening ourselves to the work.
There are currently three Proust groups moving through In Search of Lost Time. The Thursday group travelled to Iliers/ Combray last spring; this year we will spend a weekend together in Paris that includes a visit to the Hôtel Littéraire Le Swann curated as a passionate tribute to the writer and his vision-—as well as a stay in ancient convent and visits to museums that expand our knowledge of Proust’s world and French history and art. The two Wednesday groups are deep into the Guermantes Ways—turning over ideas about constructed femininity and masculinity, the unshakeable nature of social power systems, the vulnerability of our constructed identity, love as performance art…. I hope to start a new Search in the autumn.

We are living in truly challenging times. I continue to find some salve in the beauty of the literature, the passionate response to the realm of ideas offered in the Salons—and the generosity Salonistas show in our work together.

Toby

Commenting on Virginia Woolf’s The Pargiters–Feminism in Fiction

“But Virginia Woolf wanted us to take a closer look than this at masculine power and control; to analyse with greater precision some tacit manifestations of sexual polarization and to examine their effects on young women in England in 1880. So we are moved into the Pargiter drawing room to find healthy young women sighing in boredom, peeping out of windows at unknown young men, fussing with tea kettles, sexually frustrated, and helplessly caged. But why? Why are these healthy young women not out free to explore, free to engage in some important work, free to earn their own livings and enjoy independence? Virginia Woolf’s answer is simple: the privilege of a university education was denied them; ad without that education, the professions were closed to them; and without a profession, there was no opportunity whereby a healthy young woman might earn her living and have the money and thus the independence to make choices, express vigorous opinions, contribute in significant ways to the society in which she presently found herself trapped. The only choice open to girls of the Pargiter social class—where well-to-do fathers looked after their material needs—was to become models of virtue; to repress any attraction to members of the opposite sex, until the day when a man slipped “a wedding ring on her finger, to canalize all her passion, for the rest of their married lives, solely upon him.” But sexual repression to this degree, Virginia Woolf wishes us to see, runs counter to the flow of nature, causes rivalry among sisters over an available male, forces them to conceal from one another thoughts which ought to be communicated, makes them lie, affects them mentally through onslaughts of guilt, and in the end creates such distortions in their human development as to make their behaviour as unnatural as their lives are manacled.”

From the Introduction by Mitchell Leaska to The Pargiters by Virginia Woolf–

We will be exploring this collection of essays on the construction of The Years– revealing Virginia Woolf as craftswoman, feminist and activist….

The Years Salon– Five days in St Ives April 1st-5th 2020

Nuala’s Wake

In honour of Nuala Flynn 1954-2019

A group of Salonista have been pursuing- dancing in– traversing Finnegans Wake since September 2017. Nuala Flynn joined us part way in– and brought with her a passion for dream scapes, Brigid, the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Rites of Tara, the mysteries and traditions of the old world– and her bubbling energy and compassion spread outwards, infusing our Wakian world.

How I will miss her– her laughter, her energy, her sense of wonder and her deep knowledge inspired us all and will continue to inspire our group. We will hold her there. Members of our group have done some beautiful writing in honour of Nuala.

Selections from Finnegans Wake Chpt. 8 (arrangement by Caroline Donnelly)

 

O

Tell me all about

Anna Livia! I want to hear all

About Anna Livia. Well, you know Anna Livia? Yes, of course, we all know Anna Livia

Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia, trinketoes!

Can’t hear with the waters of,

The chittering waters of,

Flittering bats, fieldmice,

Hawk, talk.

 

Ho! Are you not gone ahome?

What Thom Malone?

Can’t hear with hawk of bats,

All them liffeying waters of–

Ho, talk, save us!  My foos won’t moos.

I feel as old as yonder elm.

 

A tale told of Shaun and Shem?

All Livia’s daughter-sons,

Dark hawks hear us.

 

Night!  Night! My ho head halls,

I feel as heavy as yonder stone.

 

Tell me of John, or Shaun?

Who were Shaun and Shem

The living sons or daughters of?

 

Night now!

Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm!

Night night!

Tellmetell of stem or stone,

Beside the rivering waters of,

Hitherandthithering waters of,

Night.

Sonnet for Nuala 

by Maureen Diffley

NUALA

(Fionnuala, … Anna Lufio)

 

The small fruit cake cools on the hob.

It smells of being done and funeral rites

to come. I sit hollow-eared, and freighted,

listening for the echo of your voice,

that chuckle of your unruly take on life.

You unpick the thread of words, dense

beyond belief, recirculating Tara

tales spun before and after time, like river run.

I see the grey-green glint in your eye, now gone,

now here, inside me, forever flashing

cosmic prayers to commodious pantheons.

O maieutic diviner of words and dreams,

the book will be read, the cake slowly eaten,

suffused with grace-notes of your swan-song.

 

Maureen 06/01/2010  – Nollaig na mBan – Women’s Christmas

Thoughts of Nuala  by Toby 

Husky voiced excitement – striving to get at the meaning—to connect the myths of the old world to the chaos of this one

An electric exuberance that spread out from her

Steely and capricious

Dancing in late and offering gems from the Rites of Tara

She had so much more to say—and we had to keep her to the instrument of time

She would have taken more time and given back all our time.

On 24th of December, the 10 minute glass broke—because there is mystery in the world.

If I had thought, I might have recognised the sign—the sign of her leaving—of her taking time – and laughing it to pieces.

 

Literary Delights for the New Year 

December 16th, 2019

After last week’s election…

In recent Salon discussions and in several social conversations, we have re-visited the question as to why we read writers who present perspectives that we now find deeply problematic. This could be in reference to Proust’s anti-Semitism, Woolf’s snobbery, Faulkner’s race-divided world, Joyce’s xenophobic Dublin. These discussions present the opportunity to distinguish between a writer presenting a point of view for critique and illumination versus a reflection of the writer’s own prejudice. The writers I have cited above purposefully present the worst views of their world to probe, overturn and dismantle—but their writing often takes us into the heart of these views—often views that they themselves have inhabited—to extricate the roots that are embedded in their culture.
Though we may look at these works as chronicling a past history, last week’s election suggests that we desperately need to consider openly our prejudices, our violently differing political perspectives and how we will foster greater understanding of each other moving forward.

The studies on offer in the coming months provide an opportunity to consider and discuss the roots of tribalism, the impact of a racist world on individual identity, the female reduced to male projection, the way the weight of traumatic history distorts an individual—and the way art holds up the bright and hard edges of human experience. I believe our engagement in the literature has the capacity to engender hope—hope that can translate into activism.
Coming in January and beyond:

Look for the annual Ulysses study in 2021, leading to next year’s centenary of Joyce’s immense work…

 —Toby

Nicole describes the Ulysses Salon on Bookstoker

Spend the Winter tackling Ulysses with Toby Brothers and The London Literary Salon

By Nicole Hubbard (published on Bookstoker)

After a chance conversation with a friend about life after 50, she casually mentioned that each year she had taken on a new project outside her comfort zone. Reading Ulysses was last year’s challenge and with considerable generosity, she unearthed a niggling desire of mine to read Joyce’s great modernist work and offered to put me in touch with The London Literary Salon and its director Toby Brothers. Later that dark early January night, I booked the last place on the course. What follows was simply the perfect way to spend 20 Tuesday evenings of those dark winter months…sitting on the tube to Kentish Town, Ulysses in hand (Penguin Student Edition with notes was recommended) reading and re-reading the travails, poetry, exchanges, wanderings, musings, loves and longing of Leopold and Molly Bloom and staying the course with Stephen Daedalus as he fumbles his way to full artistic expression.

In the first six short weeks, we had encountered new languages and labyrinthine sentences; the criss-crossing of the beach and Dublin streets and immersed ourselves in the newspaper room and the pub as the chatter and 3D surround-sound of Bloom’s external and internal world is revealed.  Anti-Semitism, Christian cant, class difference, and a lengthy listing of Ireland’s cultural forebears are exposed and critiqued before we encounter Molly in bed. How does it work? How does one gather 10 diverse readers to joyfully engage with the struggle of a highly complex 900 page early 20th century novel. Book Club format or seminar? Daytime or evening?

Its success lies in the focused, light touch of Toby who facilitates each session, drawing us individually into the discussion, gently and with warm encouragement. Welcomed into her home, we are invited to have a cup of tea or glass of wine before settling quickly into a sofa and chairs around a low table. Books are stacked in precarious columns by the fireplace; Toby sits Ulysses in hand, each page lovingly ruffled and marked with miniature post-it notes as an aide-memoir to themes or extended references.

After pacey introductions, we are invited to share our thoughts, struggles and response to the first chapter. Always hard in a new group, participants declare whether they are newcomers or old-timers (to either The London Literary Salon or Ulysses) and invited to share what inspired them to join; most of us have a degree in English or wish we did. All are committed; one is even reading and discussing Ulysses for a second time.

Close analysis and attention to the rhythm and nuance of language build as we are each asked to read. In the act of listening, much is deduced about the reader and the text, and so the two are interwoven. Our discoveries become personal and collective: One reader understands religious symbolism and the Catholic liturgy; another, with therapeutic training is able to offer insight into Bloom’s projection of love and Stephen’s thwarted desires. A woman to my right is musical and not only decodes but sings the Irish songs giving a richer sonic context to the scene. Toby teases out our thoughts and refocuses our gaze on the text “I’m going to pull us back to Bloom…” At the end, we have all slowed down in a form of literary mindfulness, but are energised as we are given suggestions of other critics to read and our next 50 pages.

It takes us just under six months to explore the creative process and journey through 24 hours of a Dublin day. We finish just in time to celebrate the annual Bloomsday – the day on which the novel is set – with other wild Joyceans in London or Dublin.

Check out more of Nicole’s reviews (and other delicious offerings on Bookstoker

Thanks loads to Nicole for this– the best descriptions of our work together come from participants…we start the big U again January 2020….

 

Seven Ways to Get the Most out of Proust by Marcy Kahan

Marcy Kahan is a member of the 3rd Proust cycle in the LLS; she will be facilitating a course on Nabokov later this autumn…

Seven ways to get the most out of Proust

Feeling excited at the prospect of Radio 4’s Proust Marathon – the new 10-hour dramatisation of Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time? Playwright Marcy Kahan – a lifelong Proustian – urges you to channel your inner Marcel by doing some active preparation.

1. Go to bed early

Try to recall all the rooms in which you’ve ever slept, then narrow this down to your childhood bedroom. This is how the novel begins – with its middle-aged narrator, Marcel, trying to get to sleep.

Now it’s time to remember a moment in your life when a song, a taste, a smell, a texture suddenly summoned up a huge cascade of memory – recapturing an entire season in your life. Are you there yet? Congratulations. You and Marcel have embarked on the same enterprise.

There is no need to do this in French.

2. Fall disastrously in love

You must be keen to spend every waking and sleeping moment with the love-object. When your beloved is absent, you will torment yourself with what they might be doing and who they might be doing it with. Your need to control the beloved must be compulsive, tormenting and hugely time-consuming.

You will not be alone in your emotional and erotic obsession: in Proust’s novel the cosmopolitan Charles Swann is racked with jealousy over Odette, while young Marcel puts his life on hold as he tries to control Albertine.

You are allowed to eventually marry the love-object. Your marriage will astound your friends. This happens to one of the characters in the novel.

For the remaining five ways: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/1hbtflHh7vyJTpNT2vRpFwz/seven-ways-to-get-the-most-out-of-proust

‘Subversive, queer and terrifyingly relevant: Moby Dick is the novel for our times”

In this week’s Guardian, Philip Hoare celebrates Moby Dick on the occasion of Herman Melville’s 200th year birthday– and offers six reasons why this is the novel for our times.

Mark & I have completed two studies of this incredible and uncanny book this past year–and will offer one more study starting in September.

Here is Hoare on why everyone should read this book:

“The book features gay marriage, hits out at slavery and imperialism and predicts the climate crisis – 200 years after the birth of its author, Herman Melville, it has never been more important.

Thursday marks the 200th birthday of Herman Melville – the author of the greatest unread novel in the English language. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen eyes glaze over when I ask people if they have conquered Moby-Dick. It is the Mount Everest of literature: huge and apparently insurmountable, its snowy peak as elusive as the tail of the great white whale himself.

Having grown up loving whales as a boy – in the era of the Save the Whale campaigns of the 1970s – I was underwhelmed when I watched John Huston’s grandiose 1956 film, Moby Dick. Perhaps it was because I saw it on a tiny black-and-white TV, but the whole story seemed impenetrable to me. And there weren’t enough whales. I would have been even less keen had I known that the whale footage Huston did include had been specially shot off Madeira, where they were still being hunted. For the Hemingwayesque director, there was none of that final-credit nonsense: “No animals were harmed in the making of this film.” Because they very much were.

Forty years later, I saw my first whales in the wild, off Provincetown, a former whaling port on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. It was there, in New England, that I finally finished the book. What had seemed to be a heroic tale of the high seas proved to be something much darker and more sublime. I realised its secret. Not only is it very funny and very subversive, but it maps out the modern world as if Melville had lived his life in the future and was only waiting for us to catch up. I fell in love with Melville as much as I had fallen in love with the whales. My own five-year-long voyage searching for these magnificent creatures produced my own book, Leviathan or, The Whale and a subsequent film, The Hunt for Moby-Dick. But even now, having read it a dozen times, I’m still not sure I can tell you what Moby-Dick is all about. Yes, it’s the tale of Captain Ahab, who sails his ship, the Pequod, in search of a white whale that had bitten off his leg. But it’s also a wildly digressive attempt to comprehend the animals themselves. And despite the author’s rather unhelpful conclusion, after 650 pages, about the whale, “I know him not, and never will”, here are some very good reasons why you need to read his crazily wonderful book.

Enjoy the rest of the article:

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jul/30/subversive-queer-and-terrifyingly-relevant-six-reasons-why-moby-dick-is-the-novel-for-our-times

 

Proposed Salons from Toby– Weekly studies, Retreats

Late Summer-Autumn 2019 thru Spring 2020

Having just returned from another magical St Ives weekend immersed in Virginia Woolf, I am inspired anew by the rare luxury of being in a beautiful place with a group of wonderful minds encountering a work of literature intensely together.

I leave these weekends gasping: they are full on (even as we build in down-time)—the intense engagement with the book fills and expands the mind. There is the added stimulus of the place and the experience of the group: joining together, coming to know each other, pushing against each other, clarifying one’s own thoughts and perspectives as they rub up against others…each retreat feels larger than the actual time—and we are so fully awake.

Here are some participant reflections from this past weekend:

Thank you Toby for this caring, well organised, managed tour de force VW weekend…

Toby you are incredible!   it was a wonderful two days which felt like a week….  such a great bunch of women and  so interesting.   friendships made, insights gained…. lighthouse reached…. perfect……   hope you get some proper down time.   thank you thank you!

Below you will find some of the coming courses– both travelling and in London…always happy to hear feedback on the offerings and what is of interest. Most of the following should be posted and available for registration in the next week.

Fall London Regular

  • Monday 5-7 Moby Dick 9 weeks Sept.16- Nov.25
  • Tuesday evenings short courses TS Eliot: “The Wasteland” followed by “Four Quartets”
  • Wednesdays 1:15-3:15 Finnegan Wake
  • Wednesdays 5-7, 7:30-9:30 Proust– Volume II Budding Groove (On-going study)
  • Thursdays 12-2 PM Proust  Volume IV pt. 2 (On-going study, Salon Full)

Fall travel studies

  • Sept 20-22 Camber Sands Beloved  (Private group study)
  • Nov 22-24  Rye Henry James — Portrait of A Lady
  • October 18-21 St Ives Retreat: Between the Acts
  • November 15-18 Javier Marías – Infatuations

Spring London Regular

  • Continued Proust studies Wednes. Eves & Thursday mid-day
  • Continued Finnegans Wake Weds. 13:15-15:15
  • Ulysses 2020 January -June Tuesday mid-day & evenings

Spring 2020 Travel Salons

  • April St Ives Woolf Immersion (dates to be determined)
  • May 3-11   Homer’s Odyssey Greece (posted)
  • May 17-24  Umbria yoga & Henry James/Silent Duchess trip
  • September 2020 Iliad in Greece  (dates to be determined)

Book Club Review Podcast interview with LLS founder Toby Brothers

 

Book Club Review podcast:

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/podcast/close-up-the-literary-salon/id1215730246?i=1000427209844&mt=2

January 2019

If you would like to listen to a brief overview on the history of the Salon and reflections on the purpose of the Salon and book studies – here is Toby being interviewed by Kate Slotover of the Book Club Review. This also gives some of the strategies the Salon offers to Book Clubs to support their studies.

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