Welcome to βOff the Clock,β a little something that lands somewhere between Timeless & Timely.
I send out this fun look at language and words every other Saturday, exclusively for our community of paying subscribers called the Ampersand Guild. If someone sent this to you, please consider subscribing.
βLanguage is the armory of the human mind and at once contains the trophies of its pastΒ and the weapons of its future conquests.βΒ β Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1817
We are all different kinds of readers.
Some of us read slowly while others speed-read. Some read in every spare moment, in waiting rooms, bathrooms, subway cars, and noisy bars.
We read for different purposes: to entertain, inform, educate, challenge ourselves, or just avoid boredom. But we read because weβre interested in the printed word.
This is nothing new. In fact, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, in his Lectures on Principles of Poetry in 1808, managed to lump readers into four different categories:
1. Spunges that suck up every thing and, when pressed give it out in the same state, only perhaps somewhat dirtier β . 2. Sand Glasses β or rather the upper Half of the Sand Glass, which in a brief hour assuredly lets out what it has received β & whose reading is only a profitless measurement & dozeing away of Time β . 3. Straining Bags, who get rid of whatever is good & pure, and retain the Dregs. β and this Straining-bag Class is again subdivided into Species of the Sensual, who retain evil for the gratification of their own base Imaginations, & the calumnious, who judge only by defects. . . 4 and lastly, the Great-Moguls Diamond Sieves β which is perhaps going farther for a Simile than its superior Dignity can repay, inasmuch as a common Cullender would have been equally symbolic/ but imperial or culinary, these are the only good, & I fear the least numerous, who assuredly retain the good, while the superfluous or impure passes away & leaves no trace.
Coleridge certainly had a way with words.
Which type of reader are you?
No judgment from me. Iβve been every one of them from time to time, depending on my level of alertness or interest in the material at hand.
Particularly if itβs Coleridge.
Thereβs so much to learn,
This sounds good: "...assuredly retain the good, while the superfluous or impure passes away & leaves no trace." The trouble starts when the context/container goes down the drain with the superfluous and impure, leaving only an unmoored concept that is important and meaningful to me but that I can't articulate to anyone else. Am I the only one?
It's been such a busy month for me that my attention is fragmented - I feel like a collander with bigger holes! π I'm listening to an audiobook biography of Jane Austen, and I have to re-listen to previous chapters; some evenings, every bit of information seems to go right through my head!