Lines to Love: Drowsy Summer Days

This summer has me saying, I feel all the time like a cat on a hot tin roof. Truly, these sultry, steamy, languid summer days here in the South would make Tennessee Williams proud. Pat Conroy once remarked about Southerners in his book South of Broad: Charlestonians never sweat. We sometimes dew up like hydrangea bushes or well-tended lawns. So, for us literary sorts, we’ve found a rather romantic balance of how to approach the hellacious heat with sangfroid.

With a newborn in the house who has reached the wiggle worm stage, holding books/kindles/tablets has become increasing difficult. As a result, my TBR pile has not diminished one iota. In fact, it has increased. It just sits there and waits, gathering dust, reminding me that not only am I dropping the ball with my reading, but the house could use a good dusting as well. Alas, if only I had another arm or two.

BUT, I can hold my phone with alacrity while baby has her feeding. And while I do read my bible on my phone right now (not my favorite way, but one does what one must), I’ve found myself going through my notes where so many of the quotes I collect have found their home.

I am a collector of quotes. A connoisseur of quotations. A literary enthusiast who has a potpourri of some of the most wonder thoughts scrolled upon parchment.

Today, I am sharing a variety of these musings with you that all revolve around summer. The mood. The landscape. The feel. Some you may be familiar with. Others may be new to you. All are a delightful respite from the heat. So, here’s to a ten minute hiatus while you read about the literarily idyllic season of summer.

Let’s kick it off with one of the greatest heroines ever. Her imagination trickled beauty into everything she saw, even when she was in the depths of despair during a Jonah day. Of course, I’m talking about Anne Shirley.

A big round moon, slowly deepening from her pallid luster into burnished silver, hung over the Haunted Wood; the air was full of sweet summer sounds- sleepy birds twittering, freakish breezes, faraway voices and laughter. -Anne of Green Gables, L.M. Montgomery

If you’ll recall my post Standards to Love: The Lusty Month of May, you’ll remember how greatly I prize the Joshua Logan film Camelot starring Richard Harris. In that musical, there’s a song called Camelot (shocking, I know). The lyrics to that song echo these words from the book upon which the musical was based. Considering it’s one of my all time favorite musicals, and the fact that Richard Harris as King Arthur reminds me so much of my father, I had to include this quote about Camelot in summer.

These marvels were great and comfortable ones, but in the Old England there was a greater still: the weather behaved itself... in summer it was beautifully hot for no less than four months, and, if it did rain just enough for agricultural purposes, they managed to arrange it so that it rained while you were in bed. -The Sword and The Stone; T.H. White

F. Scott Fitzgerald is eloquently poignant. It’s why his works have enjoyed so much success with each new generation that encounters them. And this quote from The Great Gatsby is an example of his mastery of painting with words.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had the familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. - The Great Gatsby; F. Scott Fitzgerald

I couldn’t tell you where I came across this quote. I didn’t cite it when I copied it down. But, in finding it again while reading through my notes, I fell in love with the profound truth of it. It reminded me of that line from the Psalms: deep calls to deep (another absolute favorite of mine which I reference in my three part short story The Problem with Greatness).

Beneath the fury of waves is the still deep, the blessed communion, the peaceful sleep, the quiet beneath the unquiet... - Jayita Bhattacharjee

The Blue Castle is my absolute favorite stand alone written by L.M. Montgomery. In fact, it’s actually one of my favorite books by her. And considering she wrote one of my all time favorite heroines in Anne Shirley, I think that’s saying a lot. But Valancy and her tender story move my heart every time I read The Blue Castle. If you haven’t read it, check out Book to Love: Just Like Jane to learn more about the book and why it’s such a worthy read. In the mean time, take a gander at this line:

Just to love! She did not as to be loved.It was rapture enough just to sit there beside him in silence, alone in the summer night in the white splendor of moonshine, with the wind blowing down on them out of the pine woods. -The Blue Castle; L.M. Montgomery

The Brontë Sisters are known for their evocative prose. They could describe the landscape superbly. However, while the debate will rage on ad infinitum as to whether Emily or Charlotte is the better, I offer the humble Anne as a wonderful alternative. Certainly, her work didn’t offer up such controversial figures as Heathcliff or Rochester, but, honestly, Anne must have been a reprieve in the Brontë household from all those roiling passions. However, while often considered the lesser of the three, her work is as evocative as her sisters. I offer you this quote from Agnes Grey as proof.

There was a feeling of freshness and vigour in the very streets; and when I got free of the town, when my foot was on the sands and my face toward the broad, bright bay, no language can describe the effect of the deep, clear azure of the sky and ocean, the bright morning sunshine on the semicircular barrier of the craggy cliffs surmounted by green swelling hills, and on the smooth, wide sand, and the low rocks out at sea- looking, with their clothing of weeds and moss, like little grass-grown islands- and, above all, on the brilliant, sparkling waves. -Agnes Grey; Anne Brontë

Henry James is not one of my favorites. I find so much of his work to be depressing with little hope offered. However, I do remember reading this line in his seminal work, The Portrait of a Lady. And while the novel is a worthwhile read to consider the difference between the New World (America) and the Old (Europe) in the late 1800s, I don’t ever see myself reading it again. That doesn’t mean that this line isn’t a wonderful one, particularly about summer.

Summer afternoon - Summer afternoon;to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. -The Portrait of a Lady; Henry James

Could I make it through a Lines to Love post about summer without putting in a line from one of my favorite summer reads: Beatriz Williams’ A Hundred Summers? I think not. And this one captures the sticky, melty summer days so well. (if you want to read more about A Hundred Summers, check out Books to Love: A Hundred Summers and Lines to Love: A Hundred Summers.

It was hot again today, hot and humid, as it had been all summer long. This afternoon there would be thunderstorms, as there had been yesterday. The weight of the air pressed on my shoulders, making every movement slow, every action languid. —A Hundred Summers; Beatriz Williams

After a particularly brutally hot day of volunteering for an outreach at my church recently, I found myself remarking to a friend that I was ready to return home to languish in a cool bath and pretend I was Atticus Fitch on his lunch break. It’s not a proper summer quote collection without referencing Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird.

Summer was on the way; Jem and I awaited it with impatience. Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the tree house; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape; but most of all, summer was Dill. — To Kill a Mockingbird; Harper Lee

A.A. Milne transfused a delightfully dry sense of humor into Winnie the Pooh. This summery quote from The House at Pooh Corner is a prime example of that wit. (If you want more Pooh, check out Lines to Love: In the 100 Aker Wood.)

It was a drowsy summer afternoon, and the Forest was full of gentle sounds, which all seemed to be saying to Pooh, ‘Don’t listen to Rabbit, listen to me.’ So he got in a comfortable position for not listening to Rabbit. — The House at Pooh Corner; A.A. Milne

I offer you this one thought about summer. Our culture is a helter skelter, hell for leather, get all the things done all the time as fast you can culture. I believe summer, especially when it is unbearably hot as this one has been, acts as a reminder to slow down. And slowing down is not idelenss. It’s not laziness. It’s an essential. I wrote about this idea in The Caesura Effect if you need further encouragement to embrace taking it slow. But, if you just need a gentle nudge, here’s John Lubbock’s take.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waster of time. —The Use of Life; John Lubbock

And, finally, dear reader, I conclude, as I began, with the inimitable Anne Shirley. May your summer be a never-to-be-forgotten summer for the BEST of reasons. What are the best of reasons? Well, I’ll let Anne tell you.