Eating the moon
Oct. 20th, 2008 07:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tilly_stratfordJag är inte redd för döden
Men ett liv är för kort
Mitt i solnedgångsglöden
Flyr hjorterna bort
I'm working on the first draft of my Text and Culture exam, on hermeneutics. I'm trying to squeeze in as much Vysotsky as possible. Initially I picked up Ulvejakten, a book on Vysotsky by Jørn Simen Øverli, at the library just because I needed a Norwegian translation of Охота на волков (because I still don't understand Russian), but it's such fascinating reading I think I'll have to hold on to it for a while.
And I'm reading some secondary sources on wolves in mythology. It's fascinating what a distinction there is between wolf myths in Northern versus Southern Europe. The Mongols believed Ghengis Khan was the son a of he-wolf and a deer, and regarded the wolf as a noble creature. In Norse mythology we have Fenrir, of course, and his two sons (one chases the sun across the sky, the other the moon), all savage and dangerous. But Odin kept the wolves Geri and Freki as pets, you know, so they aren't just regarded as evil beasts.
Ah, I want to get through with these petty exams and start reading History, damnit.
I had an odd dream last night. Not much narrative sense, but some striking moments. I remember it was snowing cotton, and me and some pale, pale girls started carefully lining telephone wires with it, in mourning of James Dean. When dusk fell you could see the striking white chords wound their ways along the road, into the darkness.
And no, I don't suppose this entry serves any function other than emptying my mind after that first draft.
Men ett liv är för kort
Mitt i solnedgångsglöden
Flyr hjorterna bort
I'm working on the first draft of my Text and Culture exam, on hermeneutics. I'm trying to squeeze in as much Vysotsky as possible. Initially I picked up Ulvejakten, a book on Vysotsky by Jørn Simen Øverli, at the library just because I needed a Norwegian translation of Охота на волков (because I still don't understand Russian), but it's such fascinating reading I think I'll have to hold on to it for a while.
And I'm reading some secondary sources on wolves in mythology. It's fascinating what a distinction there is between wolf myths in Northern versus Southern Europe. The Mongols believed Ghengis Khan was the son a of he-wolf and a deer, and regarded the wolf as a noble creature. In Norse mythology we have Fenrir, of course, and his two sons (one chases the sun across the sky, the other the moon), all savage and dangerous. But Odin kept the wolves Geri and Freki as pets, you know, so they aren't just regarded as evil beasts.
Ah, I want to get through with these petty exams and start reading History, damnit.
I had an odd dream last night. Not much narrative sense, but some striking moments. I remember it was snowing cotton, and me and some pale, pale girls started carefully lining telephone wires with it, in mourning of James Dean. When dusk fell you could see the striking white chords wound their ways along the road, into the darkness.
And no, I don't suppose this entry serves any function other than emptying my mind after that first draft.
