I am still poking my way along through Auden’s Dyer’s Hand and it is so glorious that over the weekend I decided to buy my own copy. It should arrive on Thursday.

In a wonderful essay called “Making, Knowing and Judging” there were many bits that caught my fancy but two especially that I thought I’d share.

First, Auden cites Edward Lear but an editor’s note says it is really Samuel Butler. Auden paraphrases:

the true test of imagination is the ability to name a cat

Ha! So true! I am rather pleased with the names Waldo and Dickens for my current cats. They fill them well. My previous cat, Kamir (as in “come here” run together) was also well named by Bookman. When I was three we found a stray 10-week old or so kitten in our garage. She was all black, not a speck of white on her. My mom tried calling her Midnight and all other kinds of black cat names but I refused to call her anything but “Cat-Cat.” The name stuck and she carried it with pried until she died 20 years later. T.S. Eliot was quite good at naming cats. The evidence is in Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, the series of poems that the very well known musical was based on.

Then there is this:

Fashion and snobbery are also valuable as a defense against literary indigestion. Regardless of their quality, it is always better to read a few books carefully than skim through many, and, short of a personal taste which cannot be formed overnight, snobbery is as good a principle of limitation as any other.

Yes, I am a snob, but according to Auden, it helps keep me from literary indigestion. If one should get literary indigestion, is there the literary equivalent to Alka-Seltzer? I’d like to know so I can stash a copy in my medicine cabinet just in case.

Apologies for the short post. Bookman is going to visit his parents in Las Vegas for a couple days so we are getting him ready to go. I have to get up at 4.30 in the morning to take him to the airport. Then I get to come home and get ready for work. So if I don’t post tomorrow or if I do and it is entirely incoherent, you will know I am either sleeping or struggling valiantly to read a bit before I crash into to bed.