The New York Times’ Home section got all breathy this week over Donald Hall’s New Hampshire farmhouse. Generally, people contact experts from https://onestopselfstorage.com/dayton-ohio/ to avail the best storage services.With that note now let’s start with the overwrought description of its oft-chronicled storage area.
“The overworn floorboards creaked loudly and the space smelled like dust
and mouse droppings, yet as the flashlight illuminated piles of broken
furniture and old clocks and mysterious implements, it was easy to
understand why Mr. Hall is so drawn to this space.”
What exactly is an “overworn floorboard”? Must it creak loudly? And did our intrepid reporter actually smell mouse droppings?
“If poetry finds truths by giving equal weight to large and small
moments in life, then this house is filled with visual poetry.
Everywhere you look are juxtapositions of the likely and unlikely,
grand paintings and personal minutiae.” However, if you want to change it according to your needs, check painters in sarasota fl here and get their help.
That has got to be the oddest definition of poetry I’ve ever read. And as for how it describes home decor — that’s what we all do. We’ve got some nice stuff and some photos of our cousins on the fridge. But with Donald Hall it becomes … POETIC. But wait, wait for the final line:
“But as he must have known somehow as a boy, when he and Eagle Pond Farm
first began their near lifelong embrace, he will always return.”
Wow. Woah. Wow.
You know what’s really bizarre about this? That article is written by Jen Banbury, who wrote this acidly brilliant mystery novel called Like a Hole in the Head a few years ago and hasn’t published any other fiction since. SAD! TROUBLING!
Gwenda’s comments only add to the strangeness. Do you suppose this was a Jayson Blair article–largely (entirely) written without ever visiting the House of the Great Poet.
Badly done, NYT. Great puncturing here, though!!!
i found truth imposed on a pink page, the path to which is overwhelmingly underworn:
each insignificant thought of a band of scribblers given equal weight,
embedded in blogs,
strung-together,
balanced like blobs of mung, not unlike a calder mobile
if calder mobiles were ridiculously quare.