An Island In Time

Disclaimer/Spasm: I am not as big and charming of a dork as the following might suggest. In general, I’m too lazy to be a dork or a nerd or anything similarly awesome. The exceptions to this involve Foucault, Max Weber and the typology of legitimation, biological bases of psychological disorders and performing in homemade vaudeville. All of which result in snorts and possibly gurgling noises of Homer-level satisfaction. (Okay, also the fourth book of The Aeneid, which I’ve never truly gotten over. And the piece of jewelry I own with the inscription: 3 May 1905. Which was a gift of the most epic proportions. Shout out to my siamese, Jordan.)

I am so off topic right now.

::snortsnort:: So I will love you forever if you know the relevance. And let me be clear: nothing else in the picture is a clue or hint. If you’re insisting that the hat must be: No. I’m really that big an idiot.

Point of blog post: Or inspiration/reason, at least. (I like to edit my sentences in real life conversation, too. But everyone in my family does that! We also will NEVER let a typo go unmentioned, even on facebook. It’s…sad, really.)

No, serious, here’s the point:  I have been daydreaming the line. Really. I have, all morning, been rolling it around in my head and the poignancy just has not subsided, despite the fact that I have read whole books written in poetry (not “real” poetry, because I’m not really a fan, but Toni Morrison, which, yes, is written in silk). Um. It just. I honestly think it is the best line in all of literature. (If you feel the need to debate me on this, allow me to introduce myself: Get. Out.)

Wait for it.

Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board.

Guh.

Does that not *knock* you over?! ::spasms:: Even though I routinely and unintentionally edit Ms. Hurston to “hold” instead of “have”, I cannot get over the perfection of beginning that book with that line, although I honestly think it summarizes something so transcendental and universal. Okay, duh. “Every man”. Universal. In my lightheaded whimsy, I am losing my cool.

I’m sure it has something to do with me, with wanderlust, with lofty expectations that don’t seem lofty to me, with the imagery of merchant ships and the richness that might have so many permutations (silk, spice, gold, jewels, fur). The ship – perhaps because of the distance – is a million different things to as many different people. The sentence is what the sentence refers to. ::choking sounds::

DOUBLE. RAINBOW. YOU GUYS. DOUBLERAINBOW.

Are you going to seriously tell me I’m the only one who got caught in her own mind for this long over a single sentence?

***

And you know I never blog about my submission process, but because you guys were such a part of this particular pitch, I will update: Suzie Townsend, judge of the twitter pitch contest in which I (we) was (were) an honorable mention, requested the full! Frabjousness.

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