Yeah, I'm not to good with anything that includes the phrase "supposed to." I remember having a discussion with a friend of mine, where she was saying that our high school English classes only taught us how to summarize other people's criticism into a term paper, not how to figure out our own. I was totally confused by this; every paper I'd written had referred to published criticism, but I totally had my own analysis and defense of it. We finally figure out that, when we were reading something, and there was a statement like, "The use of the word X symbolizes Y," she read that as, "This is the accepted interpretation, so it's what you're supposed to think if you want to look like you know what you're talking about," and I read it as, "This is this author's interpretation -- hmm, but couldn't it actually symbolize Z? There was another similar passage, wasn't there, that looked more like Z? And that other passage, over there, really makes it look like Y isn't a good interpretation. And what about W?"

Man, that was many posts. You may all blame Polter-Cow for reminding this thread is here. I certainly do.

I am in the corner with the folks who are wondering what in the hell they have being doing with their reading time. My Lit-City consists of a familiarity with Will's Castle, Alcott's Cottage, and a really well detailed, this is my 'hood knowledge of the spires and habitats of science fiction.

I will duck back out of the discussion, I think, because my impulse toward analysis is aimed at other fields. However, the cut-and-thrust in here since July 1 has been very stimulating. I thank you all for that.

Jilli if you haven't read Frankenstein you should. I love it to peices. Although I've never gotten into Dracula.

When people were talking about Shakespeare it reminded me of the Childcraft set (well partial) that Grandma E had when I was growing up (she gave me the books). The first book is nursery rhymes, songs, and poetry for younger children -- lots of Mother Goose, but also Christan Rossetti, Rober Louis Stevenson, Longfellow, Vachal Lindsey, etc. Book 2 is poetry for older children-- the previously mentioned poets and Shakespeare, Dickinson, Millya, Wordsworth, Swinburne, Tennyson, Browning. And The Highwayman which is wonderfully dark and beautiful and I tried to memorize it when I was 9 or so. I remember reading it over and over and then Grandma E holding the book while I tried to recite it back from memory. I never did memorise it all the way.

I'm not sure if they even make Child Craft anymore, this edition is from 1954 but I see various editions in anitque stores or used bookstores. Any of the new parents should have this.

We weren't exactly talking about poetry but I had to share that.

Also I highly recommend House of Spirits by Isabel Allende, it's one of my favorite novels.

Askye, yes! I am looking at my set of 1954 Childcraft proudly displayed, right above the set of 20's-era Book Trails that my mother grew up with. Love them to death, even now. My mom gave ours away when I went to college, but she found a set for me later--one of the perks of having a Mom in the used book trade.

I don't have the full set and I want it. I keep seeing various volumes that I don't have but they are "my" edition. I'm not sure off the top of my head what volumes I'm missing because I only have the first 2 over here, the rest are with my other books at Mom's.

In the volume with short stories there is a story about a girl living in the piney woods and it's nearly Christmas and she wants this beautiful doll, but her parents can't afford it and instead her mother has her baby on Christmas so she gets a gift better than a doll.

I made that sound hokey and maybe it is a little but Dad used to read it to me, because we have piney woods here -- just a different sort than were described in the story.

My mother gave that edition of Childcraft to my half-sister, who sold it in a yard sale. My sister and I have not forgiven either of them.

I went and re-read the thread because I had skipped around to respond specifically to things. Some thoughts:

P-Cow: you really must change your tag to "Quentin Compson is my homeboy." Also, Thomas Sutpen had a red right hand.

Teppy: Damn, but I love your very honest (non-egotistical) response to the content of the discussion and dogged attempts to understand.

Connie, Susan: You are both such thoughtful, insightful readers - I just wish you wouldn't worry whether your credentials are in order.

I love love love Jen, and her annotated booklist.

And Heather and Julianna and Brenda - so many intelligent, thoughtful reasonable posts that didn't take sides but explored the issues in the middle.

Ple & Nutty: Damn, you're two of the most analytical people I know and you weren't backing me? WHY??!!! I must blame it on my poor articulation of my position. But also...Damn you for your autonomy and differing conclusions!

Jacqueline: I'm so glad I married you.

Calli: I love Stoppard's Travesties! Jilli, I think you'd like it too.

Also, I don't remember if I responded to Lilty - no worries. You were fine.

Saki (H. H. Monroe, early 20th C.) is one of my favorite short story writers. While they aren't all perfect, many of his stories are witty, occasionally fierce gems. I'd recommend the stories "Tobermory" and "Sredni Vashtar." Both are in the collection The Chronicals of Clovis.

Where do you think my Devilbunny (everyone's future Lord and Master) got his name from? Yes, he's named after Clovis from the Saki stories.

Jilli if you haven't read Frankenstein you should. I love it to peices. Although I've never gotten into Dracula.

We are mirror opposites, it seems. Frankenstein has never (in the semi-distant past, I'll admit) held my attention, while I re-read Dracula once a year.

Re everyone who followed my bloviating posts with moans about being not smart enough for the Buffistas (Teppy, I'm looking at you):

Shit, I've been reading along feeling like the stupidest stupidhead in Stupidville compared to all y'all and the things you read and genuinely enjoy that I can't begin to wrap my brain around. Dammit, someone here has to own up to being an actual smartyhead!

And I'd like to nominate P-C, on account of he made me feel the stupidest with his Quentin Compson love and all. I have never been able to read more than six pages of Faulkner, ever; he makes my head pound with my total intellectual inadequacy and lack of anything, and people who read him willingly, for pleasure, are like unto demigods to me.

So, official verdict: We're all unfit for Buffistahood, except for P-C (and probably Nutty. And also ita. Other exceptions to be added as necessary, but basically we're all unworthy, which at least levels the posting field and should make us all feel exactly no more or less insecure than anyone else about our intellectual cred.)