Favourites

 

I love the concept of favourites. Perhaps it;s childish, it probably is, but I have a friend who I often name 'My favourite Chris' brief silence followed by top ten, easily top 25. I think he appreciates the bants. I think Madeliene L'Engle has the same sense of whimsy. In her book "Walking on Water' names Thomas Traherne as one of her favourite 17th century poets. He wrote this

'Certainly Adam and Eve in Paradise had not more sweete and curious apprehensions of the world than I when I was a child.'

She goes on to make a well rounded and considered answer about the development of language and the importance of understanding the motivation behind the change in the use of words. I agree with her, but my writing is not so eloquent and to be honest to be able to paraphrase her journey I would need to use more words than her. My recommendation is simple - read her book.

However,  my mind fixated on the practical outworking of the statement 'one of my favourite 17th century poets...' I would struggle to name ten 17th century poets. It set me to thinking, throw away line do that to me a lot. I could say my favourite young children's author - Julia Donaldson, my favourite literary theologian - Frederick Buechner. 

 Beyond that, I have a dream, not nearly as lofty as MLK's, that one day, I would like to use the phrase 'One of my favourite seventeenth century poets' to describe a poet and mean it. To be able to say, with authenticity, I have a favourite amoung my vast knowledge and experience of said authors. I would currently struggle tp name three seventeenth century poets.

 My writing would have such depth if my reading had more depth, and to be honest, my reading could use more breadth. I wonder how I would change if I could write such a thing. Reading changes you, it changes your perspective. Stories give you a window into someone elses life and at time a mirror into your own. 

It makes me realise, that all I can hope, is that there are books and a quiet corner in heaven. There I will sit for a few thousand years with some of the seventeenth century poets. At 3:36 one Friday afternoon, I will announce, which one is my favourite. The two of us will dance together down the streets of gold, blissfully, aware that, it makes no difference.