The A-to-Z of Sharr White's ANNAPURNA: Part 3

Letters P-Z

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Paonia, Colorado:

• http://www.paoniachamber.com/
• Average elevation: 5,682 ft with a peak elevation approaching 12,000 ft
• Population: approximately 1,500 people (according to 2000 census)
• Paonia is named for the Latin of the flower peony which is actually spelled Paeonia in Latin; however the post office would not allow the extra letter in the name so the town became Paonia.
• The majority of the town’s residents are employed by one of several coal mines located in Somerset, a few miles away from Paonia.
• The area surrounding Paonia is known for its tremendous fruit production.
• Paonia’s weather during the summer is typically in the 70’s; however, July is the hottest month of the year when the average temperature daily is 90 degrees.  Temperature variations from night to day are stark.  At night the temp can fall as low as 33 degrees, even in the height of summer.

Philosophy:

What does it mean to be a philosopher?

One who thinks in order to believe; one who formulates his prejudices and systematizes his ignorance.

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From: http://www.definitions.net/definition/philosopher

Also see http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/16/what-is-a-philosopher/

Piggly Wiggly:

Poet Contemporaries of Ulysses:

• Leslie Ullman (winner of the Yale Series of Younger Poets competition in 1979)
• William Virgil Davis (winner of the Yale Series of Younger Poets competition in 1980)
• David Bottoms (winner of the Walt Whitman Award in 1979)
• Jared Carter (winner of the Walt Whitman Award in 1980)
• Maggie Anderson (The Great Horned Owl published in 1979)
• Rita Dove (poetry collection The Yellow House on the Corner published in 1980)
• Cornelius Eady (Kartunes published in 1980)
• Joy Harjo (What Moon Drove Me to This published in 1979)
• Gary Soto (The Tale of Sunlight published in 1978)
• Naomi Shihab Nye (Different Ways to Pray: Poems published in 1980)

Poets:

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A poem by Wendell Berry on being a poet.

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How To Be a Poet

(to remind myself)

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill — more of each

than you have — inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity. Any readers

who like your work, 

doubt their judgment.

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens. 

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

There are only sacred places

And desecrated places.

-Wendell Berry

Polish Proverb:

“Only the future is certain. The past is always changing.” –Paul Flynn

Paul Flynn is a British politician for the Labour party. The quote seems to refer to the phenomenon of history changing to suit the desires of those in power.

Providence Community College:

PCC (Providence Community College)

• There is no such place, but the equivalent is called Community College of Rhode Island
• There isn’t even a creative writing dept. but there is something called a Writing Center where students can get help with the construction and content of their papers
• http://www.ccri.edu/writingcenter/
• It seems like being a professor at a place like this indicates an absurd level of mediocrity on the part of Emma’s second husband Peter; likely created to contrast with Ulysses’ incomparable genius and skill with creative writing and poetry

Purgatory:

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Purgatorio (Italian for "Purgatory") is the second part of Dante's Divine Comedy, following the Inferno, and preceding the Paradiso. The poem was written in the early 14th century. It is an allegory telling of the climb of Dante up the Mount of Purgatory, guided by the Roman poet Virgil. In the poem, Purgatory is depicted as a mountain in the Southern Hemisphere, consisting of a bottom section (Ante-Purgatory), seven levels of suffering and spiritual growth (associated with the seven deadly sins), and finally the Earthly Paradise at the top. Allegorically, the poem represents the Christian life, and in describing the climb Dante discusses the nature of sin, examples of vice and virtue, and moral issues in politics and in the Church. The poem outlines a theory that all sin arises from love – either perverted love directed towards others' harm, or deficient love, or the disordered love of good things.

From: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purgatorio

Redemption:

The dictionary definition for Redeem is:

–verb (used with object)

1. to buy or pay off; clear by payment: to redeem a mortgage.
2. to buy back, as after a tax sale or a mortgage foreclosure.
3. to recover (something pledged or mortgaged) by payment or other satisfaction: to redeem a pawned watch.
4. to exchange (bonds, trading stamps, etc.) for money or goods.
5. to convert (paper money) into specie.
6. to discharge or fulfill (a pledge, promise, etc.).
7. to make up for; make amends for; offset (some fault, shortcoming, etc.): His bravery redeemed his youthful idleness.
8. to obtain the release or restoration of, as from captivity, by paying a ransom.
9. Theology. to deliver from sin and its consequences by means of a sacrifice offered for the sinner.

From: http://www.merriam-webster.com/

Social Security Age:

The earliest one can collect social security benefits is at 62 years of age. However, if you retire before you are considered to be of “full retirement age” (which ranges between 65-67 depending on your year of birth), you benefits are reduced a fraction of a percent for every month before your full retirement age.

Chart of reductions:

http://www.socialsecurity.gov/retire2/agereduction.htm

Top Music of 1979:

Top 10 Rock Songs of 1979:

• Another Brick in the Wall Part 2 by Pink Floyd
• London Calling by The Clash
• Rapper’s Delight by The Sugarhill Gang
• Good Times by Chic
• Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough by Michael Jackson
• We are Family by Sister Sledge
• Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd
• Brass in Pocket by The Pretenders
• Message in a Bottle by The Police
• Train in Vain by The Clash

Top 10 Pop Songs of 1979:

• Da Ya Think I’m Sexy by Rod Stewart
• My Sharona by The Knack
• Bad Girls by Donna Summer
• No More Tears by Barbara Streisand & Donna Summer
• Escape (The Pina Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes
• I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor
• Reunited by Peaches & Herb
• Hot Summer by Donna Summer
• Babe by Styx
• What a Fool Believes by The Doobie Brothers

Top 10 Country Songs of 1979:

• Coward of the Country by Kenny Rogers
• When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman by Dr. Hook
• Just When I Needed You Most by Randy VanWarmer
• The Devil Went Down to Georgia by The Charlie Daniels Band
• Longer by Dan Fogelberg
• She Believes in Me by Kenny Rogers
• Better Love Next Time by Dr. Hook
• If I Said You Have a Beautiful Body Would You Hold it Against Me by The Bellamy Brothers
• Music Box Dancer by Frank Mills
• You Decorated My Life by Kenny Rogers

Trashy Romance Novels and Their Writers:

      

Cassie Edwards (author of books pictured above) is a best-selling American writer who has written over 100 novels (since 1982!), most of which are romance novels and most of which involve Native American tribes. Her first 99 books sold a combined 10 million copies as of August 2007, with her more recent novels averaging sales of 250,000–350,000 copies. Edwards has won the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award and the Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice Award, as well as being named one of Affaire de Coeur's top ten favorite romance writers. She was outed for plagiarism a few years ago when it was discovered that passages from her books appeared to be lifted from other novels, poems, reference books, and website about Native American culture.

T.S. Eliot Quote:

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We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

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-T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding" (the last of his Four Quartets)

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Full text here: http://www.tristan.icom43.net/quartets/gidding.html

Ulysses’ Disease and Surgery:

Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (Emphysema):

Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) is one of the most common lung diseases. It makes it difficult to breathe. There are two main forms of COPD:

• Chronic bronchitis, which involves a long-term cough with mucus
• Emphysema, which involves destruction of the lungs over time

Most people with COPD have a combination of both conditions.

Causes, incidence, and risk factors

Smoking is the leading cause of COPD. The more a person smokes, the more likely that person will develop COPD. However, some people smoke for years and never get COPD.

In rare cases, nonsmokers who lack a protein called alpha-1 antitrypsin can develop emphysema.

Other risk factors for COPD are:

• Exposure to certain gases or fumes in the workplace
• Exposure to heavy amounts of secondhand smoke and pollution
• Frequent use of cooking fire without proper ventilation 

Symptoms

• Cough, with or without mucus
• Fatigue
• Many respiratory infections
• Shortness of breath (dyspnea) that gets worse with mild activity
• Trouble catching one's breath
• Wheezing

Because the symptoms of COPD develop slowly, some people may not know that they are sick.

Signs and tests

The best test for COPD is a lung function test called spirometry. This involves blowing out as hard as possible into a small machine that tests lung capacity. The results can be checked right away, and the test does not involve exercising, drawing blood, or exposure to radiation.

Using a stethoscope to listen to the lungs can also be helpful. However, sometimes the lungs sound normal even when COPD is present.

Pictures of the lungs (such as x-rays and CT scans) can be helpful, but sometimes look normal even when a person has COPD (especially chest x-ray).

Sometimes patients need to have a blood test (called arterial blood gas) to measure the amounts of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the blood.

Treatment

There is no cure for COPD. However, there are many things you can do to relieve symptoms and keep the disease from getting worse.

Persons with COPD MUST stop smoking. This is the best way to slow down the lung damage.

Medications used to treat COPD include:

• Inhalers (bronchodilators) to open the airways, such as ipratropium (Atrovent), tiotropium (Spiriva), salmeterol (Serevent), formoterol (Foradil), or albuterol
• Inhaled steroids to reduce lung inflammation
• Anti-inflammatory medications such as montelukast (Singulair) and roflimulast are sometimes used

Click here to see a video about COPD inhalers.

In severe cases or during flare-ups, you may need to receive:

• Steroids by mouth or through a vein (intravenously)
• Bronchodilators through a nebulizer
• Oxygen therapy
• Assistance during breathing from a machine (through a mask, BiPAP, or endotracheal tube)

Antibiotics are prescribed during symptom flare-ups, because infections can make COPD worse.

You may need oxygen therapy at home if you have a low level of oxygen in your blood.

Pulmonary rehabilitation does not cure the lung disease, but it can teach you to breathe in a different way so you can stay active. Exercise can help maintain muscle strength in the legs.

Walk to build up strength.

• Ask the doctor or therapist how far to walk.
• Slowly increase how far you walk.
• Try not to talk when you walk if you get short of breath.
• Use pursed lip breathing when breathing out (to empty your lungs before the next breath)

Things you can do to make it easier for yourself around the home include:

• Avoiding very cold air
• Making sure no one smokes in your home
• Reducing air pollution by getting rid of fireplace smoke and other irritants

Eat a healthy diet with fish, poultry, or lean meat, as well as fruits and vegetables. If it is hard to keep your weight up, talk to a doctor or dietitian about eating foods with more calories.

Surgery may be used, but only a few patients benefit from these surgical treatments:

• Surgery to remove parts of the diseased lung can help other areas (not as diseased) work better in some patients with emphysema
• Lung transplant for severe cases

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001153/

Lung Volume Reduction Surgery:

Lung volume reduction surgery (LVRS) was first used to treat emphysema in the 1950s after being described by Dr. Otto Brantigan at the University of Maryland. It was not widely practiced because of the uncertainty surrounding its long-term benefits and high-risk mortality. Thanks to medical developments, physicians began using LVRS in the 1990s to help treat people with severely disabling emphysema.

The Division of Thoracic Surgery at the University of Maryland is a leader in making this treatment option more widely available to patients. LVRS involves removing about 20 to 30 percent of the damaged lung so that the remaining tissue and surrounding muscles are able to work more efficiently, making breathing easier.

http://www.umm.edu/thoracic/lvrs.htm

The University of Montana:

The University of Montana's Creative Writing Program began formally in 1965 with the establishment of the M.F.A. degree, and has been shaped and influenced over the years by the likes of Richard Hugo, Walter Van Tilburg Clark, and Leslie Fiedler. Today it is nourished by a talented, committed, and accomplished group of faculty-writers, as well as by an increasingly distinguished community of alumni. Together with the talents and accomplishments of our current students, this community is continuing the M.F.A.'s program as one of the oldest and most prestigious programs in the country. Judy Blunt is the Director of the Creative Writing Program.

William Wordsworth:

We Are Seven

By William Wordsworth

———A simple Child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

“And often after sun-set, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

“The first that dies was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

’Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

By William Wordsworth

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,

       The earth, and every common sight,

                              To me did seem

                      Apparelled in celestial light,

               The glory and the freshness of a dream.

It is not now as it hath been of yore;—

                      Turn wheresoe'er I may,

                              By night or day.

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

                      The Rainbow comes and goes,

                      And lovely is the Rose,

                      The Moon doth with delight

       Look round her when the heavens are bare,

                      Waters on a starry night

                      Are beautiful and fair;

       The sunshine is a glorious birth;

       But yet I know, where'er I go,

That there hath past away a glory from the earth.

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,

       And while the young lambs bound

                      As to the tabor's sound,

To me alone there came a thought of grief:

A timely utterance gave that thought relief,

                      And I again am strong:

The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;

No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;

I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng,

       The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep,

                      And all the earth is gay;

                              Land and sea

               Give themselves up to jollity,

                      And with the heart of May

               Doth every Beast keep holiday;—

                      Thou Child of Joy,

Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy.

Ye blessèd creatures, I have heard the call

       Ye to each other make; I see

The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;

       My heart is at your festival,

               My head hath its coronal,

The fulness of your bliss, I feel—I feel it all.

                      Oh evil day! if I were sullen

                      While Earth herself is adorning,

                              This sweet May-morning,

                      And the Children are culling

                              On every side,

                      In a thousand valleys far and wide,

                      Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,

And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm:—

                      I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!

                      —But there's a Tree, of many, one,

A single field which I have looked upon,

Both of them speak of something that is gone;

                      The Pansy at my feet

                      Doth the same tale repeat:

Whither is fled the visionary gleam?

Where is it now, the glory and the dream?

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,

                         Hath had elsewhere its setting,

                              And cometh from afar:

                      Not in entire forgetfulness,

                      And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

                      From God, who is our home:

Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

Shades of the prison-house begin to close

                      Upon the growing Boy,

But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,

                      He sees it in his joy;

The Youth, who daily farther from the east

                      Must travel, still is Nature's Priest,

                      And by the vision splendid

                      Is on his way attended;

At length the Man perceives it die away,

And fade into the light of common day.

Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;

Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,

And, even with something of a Mother's mind,

                      And no unworthy aim,

                      The homely Nurse doth all she can

To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,

                      Forget the glories he hath known,

And that imperial palace whence he came.

Behold the Child among his new-born blisses,

A six years' Darling of a pigmy size!

See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies,

Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses,

With light upon him from his father's eyes!

See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,

Some fragment from his dream of human life,

Shaped by himself with newly-learn{e}d art

                      A wedding or a festival,

                      A mourning or a funeral;

                              And this hath now his heart,

                      And unto this he frames his song:

                              Then will he fit his tongue

To dialogues of business, love, or strife;

                      But it will not be long

                      Ere this be thrown aside,

                      And with new joy and pride

The little Actor cons another part;

Filling from time to time his "humorous stage"

With all the Persons, down to palsied Age,

That Life brings with her in her equipage;

                      As if his whole vocation

                      Were endless imitation.

Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie

                      Thy Soul's immensity;

Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep

Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,

That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep,

Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,—

                      Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!

                      On whom those truths do rest,

Which we are toiling all our lives to find,

In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;

Thou, over whom thy Immortality

Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave,

A Presence which is not to be put by;

Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might

Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height,

Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke

The years to bring the inevitable yoke,

Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?

Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,

And custom lie upon thee with a weight,

Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!

                      O joy! that in our embers

                      Is something that doth live,

                      That Nature yet remembers

What was so fugitive!

The thought of our past years in me doth breed

Perpetual benediction: not indeed

For that which is most worthy to be blest;

Delight and liberty, the simple creed

Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,

With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:—

                      Not for these I raise

                      The song of thanks and praise

               But for those obstinate questionings

               Of sense and outward things,

               Fallings from us, vanishings;

               Blank misgivings of a Creature

Moving about in worlds not realised,

High instincts before which our mortal Nature

Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised:

                      But for those first affections,

                      Those shadowy recollections,

               Which, be they what they may

Are yet the fountain-light of all our day,

Are yet a master-light of all our seeing;

               Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make

Our noisy years seem moments in the being

Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,

               To perish never;

Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,

                      Nor Man nor Boy,

Nor all that is at enmity with joy,

Can utterly abolish or destroy!

               Hence in a season of calm weather

                      Though inland far we be,

Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea

                      Which brought us hither,

               Can in a moment travel thither,

And see the Children sport upon the shore,

And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!

                      And let the young Lambs bound

                      As to the tabor's sound!

We in thought will join your throng,

                      Ye that pipe and ye that play,

                      Ye that through your hearts to-day

                      Feel the gladness of the May!

What though the radiance which was once so bright

Be now for ever taken from my sight,

               Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;

                      We will grieve not, rather find

                      Strength in what remains behind;

                      In the primal sympathy

                      Which having been must ever be;

                      In the soothing thoughts that spring

                      Out of human suffering;

                      In the faith that looks through death,

In years that bring the philosophic mind.

And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,

Forebode not any severing of our loves!

Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;

I only have relinquished one delight

To live beneath your more habitual sway.

I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,

Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;

The innocent brightness of a new-born Day

                              Is lovely yet;

The Clouds that gather round the setting sun

Do take a sober colouring from an eye

That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;

Another race hath been, and other palms are won.

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,

To me the meanest flower that blows can give

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

From: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/

Writing Implements:

Ulysses probably uses whatever cheap pencils or ballpoints he can find lying around, likely ones that have been tossed aside by others in the trailer park.  Or, he definitely would be the type to take as many pens as he could stash in his pockets when he goes to the bank on those rare occasions to cash his meager checks.  

Yaddo:

“Founded in 1900 by the financier Spencer Trask and his wife Katrina, herself a poet, Yaddo is an artists' community located on a 400-acre estate in Saratoga Springs, New York. Its mission is to nurture the creative process by providing an opportunity for artists to work without interruption in a supportive environment.

Yaddo offers residencies to professional creative artists from all nations and backgrounds working in one or more of the following media: choreography, film, literature, musical composition, painting, performance art, photography, printmaking, sculpture, and video. Artists may apply individually or as members of collaborative teams of two or three persons. They are selected by panels of other professional artists without regard to financial means. Residencies last from two weeks to two months and include room, board, and studio.

The results of the Trasks' legacy have been historic. John Cheever once wrote that the 'forty or so acres on which the principal buildings of Yaddo stand have seen more distinguished activity in the arts than any other piece of ground in the English-speaking community and perhaps the world.'" 

Collectively, artists who have worked at Yaddo have won:

• 66 Pulitzer Prizes
• 27 MacArthur Fellowships
• 61 National Book Awards
• 24 National Book Critics Circle Awards
• 108 Rome Prizes
• 49 Whiting Writers' Awards
• 1 Nobel Prize

(http://yaddo.org/yaddo/home.asp)


Click here to read PART ONE (Letters A-E)

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Click here to read PART TWO (Letters F-O)