I was reviewing a children’s nonfiction graphic novel on dinosaurs-First Second Press’s Science Comics (love the concept!) Dinosaurs: Fossils and Feathers. It was more about the discovery and scientists than dinosaurs themselves. There were some aspects of the book that I liked, some I wasn’t so fond of.
One thing that did catch my eye was the name Mignon Talbot. They mentioned that she was the first woman to name a dinosaur. I hadn’t heard of her before. So of course I had to hunt down a little more information. She was a professor of Geology and Geography at Mount Holyoke College for thirty-one years in the early 20th century.
Wallace Stevens is the closest thing we have to a local poet around here. He wasn’t born in the area, but he lived in Connecticut for most of his productive adult life. He was an American Modernist poet who won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1955, shortly before his death.
I’m honestly not generally a huge fan of his work overall. I like the wording but I’m not big on abstract poetry. However, I always liked one of the poems that we’d read in class. In honor of the snow we finally got (though we did come by the poor driving conditions I didn’t want) and in hopes that the next batch just as pretty but rather kinder:
The Snow Man
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
— from Harmonium , 1923