Michael Ondaatje's best book: Anil's Ghost. (2000)

Am at the moment unable to speak well in any depths.
Unable to sieve my speech.
Toads jump out of my mouth.

More Szymborska

Constant effort to keep to a routine. This morning, starting early, but already I can see my day unravelling , in terms of what I want to do. Higher priorities.

Reading Ondaatje: one book I've read is Running in the family, autobiographical and prose. I always want to know the background of writers I have to review, though did not find anything much about Szymborska when I reviewed View with a Grain of Salt.
Which reminds me: to my pleasure, one of her poems was read out at the Holocaust Memorial ceremony last night, a beautiful one entitled 'Could have'

It could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened earlier. Later
Nearer. Farther off.
It happened, but not to you.

You were saved because you were the first.
You were saved because you were the last.
Alone. With others,
On the right. The left.
Because it was raining. Because of the shade.
Because the day was sunny.

You were in luck - there was a forest.
You were in luck - there were no trees.
You were in luck - a rake, a hook, a beam, a brake.
A jamb, a turn, a quarter-inch, an instant...

So you're here? Still dizzy from
another dodge, close shave, reprieve?
One hole in the net and you slipped through?
I couldn't be more shocked or
speechless.
Listen,
how your heart pounds inside me.
When I interviewed Dorah, who survived WWII in Holland working courageously for the underground, that was the refrain: I was lucky, just as Szymborska writes at the heart of this poem.

Time's up.

Ondaatjes Major and Minor

Looked up Michael Ondaatje on Wikipedia - yet another example of how wrong my assumptions can be: because of his Dutch name, and his writing in English, had pigeon-holed him as a South African, - how wrong can you get? And because I did not like The English Patient (film), never read anything by him, not even the original book. Some catching up to do.

Ondaatje is Sinhalese/Canadian, with Dutch ancestry. Wealthy childhood, then father lost the family fortune. His famously rich brother started from nothing and also writes books now. Mysteriously, they both carry the name Philip - the writer is Philip Michael O., and his older brother is Philip Christopher O....One imagines a family tradition, or maybe the ego-driven father called Philip. Also much rivalry between the brothers. Makes me think of the Jones Bros here (Lloyd and Bob).

Ondaatje has written 13 books of poetry (so far). This is a start to my book review, which I need to have done by May 8th. Plenty of time, work on it bit by bit every day. Am engrossed in Bashevis Singer at the moment, shall have to finish that before I can get immersed in Ondaatje.

Some of the clouds on the horizon have disappeared. Relief.

Poetry overkill

Took out several more poetry books from the library and was unexpectedly enchanted reading Michale Ondaatje's The Cinnamon Peeler's Wife.

That's all for now, am taking a break from poetry for a few days. Indigestion.

Am indulging instead in prose with Isaac Bashevis Singer, The Moskat Family. I last read him forty years ago, before any writing courses and understanding of psychology. It's a different story now. Very enjoyable.

I am supposed to write a haiku this week.

Also discovered that to entitle something Ode to... is over the top, over emphatic. Too late. Am pleased with the sonnet, nevertheless. Only six more weeks of the online course and I shall feel less pressured.