Disarm
and Delight with Words
Pray
tell, my dear, our love should not pavid nor should we be pavid
of love. Hmmm, well … do not be fearful
that I misspelled “paved” or buried our timid
love in the cement of classic language.
Although
the flowery literature of our classic masters has evolved into punk slang and media frenzied sound bites, now and
again, we should revel in writing that is a bit indecipherable, yet vaguely
familiar. Like a warm and fuzzy memory tucked away in the recesses of your
mind, not quite visible in daylight.
Amongst any other population, or at a later
period in the history of New England, the grim rigidity that petrified the
bearded physiognomies of these good people would have augured some awful
business in hand. Nathaniel Hawthorne – The Scarlet Letter, chapter 2.
How
much more vacuous and assaulting of our senses in today’s “accepted” literature
terms, is dear Nathaniel’s flowing description of the era encircling The Scarlet
Letter: Around the world or in a more
civilized future time, the fubb zombies that controlled the robo features of
these chilling people would have spy-cammed the grisly game in play.
Make
your next book a classic. Expand your mind and revive the imagery of fluid thought
versus vulgar action.
Word of the Week: PAVID. Can you swallow its fearfulness and fit it in your next
family conversation?
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