I've been anxious to dive into Jan Karon's newest novel, Home to Holly Springs, for a couple of weeks. I had a chance to do so recently and I came across a passage that totally cracked me up. First I have to set the stage. Last week I wrote a post about the trip to a cabin I was about to take with three friends. Here's a little of what I said:
I suggested to one of the guys last night that maybe we could watch a good chick-flick or two and then each of us could read a copy of our favorite poem to the group. My suggestion was a joke since this guy doesn't really read and he despises chick-flicks, but I'm not sure if he realized I was joking.
"And then why don't we put on a dress?" was his response.
Early in the book, the protagonist Timothy Kavanagh, is remembering an incident that happened with his best friend, named Tommy, when he was small. Young Timothy and Tommy decided to carve their initials into a column on the town square. But rather than carving his name or initials, Timothy carved "William," because he admired the work of the poet William Wordsworth. Here's their exchange:
"That ain't yo' name, cootie head."
"Is now, pig brain."
"Who's William?"
"You wouldn't know."
"Not if you don't tell me."
"A poet," he said.
"A poet?"
"'Come forth, and bring with you a heart that watches and receives.'"
"Huh?"
"Miz Babcock made us learn poetry," he said, etching the surname.
"I'm glad I didn't git Miz Babcock, I don't want t' be no sissy."
If men wrote poetry, why was it sissy for boys to read it? He could not understand this.
Me either Timothy. Me either.
