“I once tried hawking my own book around the pubs in the hope that, like the Salvation Army, I too could sell to the cerebrally relaxed. It was a disaster. I had beer thrown over me for being a) a nuisance, b) not as good as Wordsworth and c) a nancy for writing poetry in the first place.”
In this quote, Peter Finch humorously reflects on his experience trying to sell his own book in pubs. The use of self-deprecating humor adds a light-hearted tone to the situation, as he describes being met with hostility from pub-goers who did not appreciate his poetry. The reference to Wordsworth, a renowned poet, highlights the high standard to which Finch was being compared and emphasizes the challenges of breaking into the literary world. Overall, this quote showcases Finch's wit and humility in the face of rejection.
In this quote by Peter Finch, the challenges faced by aspiring writers trying to promote their work are highlighted. Despite the humor in his anecdote, the struggle to gain recognition and validation as a writer remains relevant in today's competitive literary landscape. This experience serves as a reminder of the obstacles and criticism that writers may encounter when sharing their creative endeavors with the world.
"I once tried hawking my own book around the pubs in the hope that, like the Salvation Army, I too could sell to the cerebrally relaxed. It was a disaster. I had beer thrown over me for being a) a nuisance, b) not as good as Wordsworth and c) a nancy for writing poetry in the first place.”
Reflecting on Peter Finch's experience of trying to sell his own book in pubs, consider the following questions:
“If you ever read one of my books I hope you'll think it looks so easy. In fact, I wrote those chapters 20 times over, and over, and over, and that if you want to write at a good level, you'll have to do that too.”
“I've had my wild times now and then more than my share perhaps and I don't think I'll give them up, because I like them too well.”
“Are you going to give a speech?' she asked gaily.He gave a choked laugh. 'Of course not,' he said. 'Not for ages.''My cousin Davey gave one on his very first day!' ...'In the Lords, I remember. It was about how he didn't like strawberry jam.''Be nice, Charles! It was a speech about fruit importation, which I admit devolved into something of a tirade.' She couldn't help but laugh. 'Still, you could talk about something more important.''Than jam? Impossible. We mustn't set the bar too high, Jane.”
“The first night Stephen and I slept together, he whispered numbers into my ear: long, high numbers -- distances between planets, seconds in a life. He spoke as if they were poetry, and they became poetry. Later, when he fell asleep, I leaned over him and watched, trying to picture a mathematician's dreams. I concluded that Stephen must dream in abstract, cool designs like Mondrian paintings.”
“You should climb around inside my brain, Dan. It's like this dark room surrounded by quicksand.""I know what you mean," her brother said quietly. "I hate being in my brain sometimes. I have to get out.""What do you do?" Amy asked.Dan shrugged "I go to other places. My toes. My shoulders. But mostly here." He tapped his chest and immediately reddened. "I know. It's stupid.""Not really," Amy said. "I wish I could do that, too.”
“We had a teacher called Fanny Menlove, and I remember once when she was out of the room Nancy went up to the blackboard and wrote it backward - Menlove Fanny - and we all fell around laughing. She got into big trouble, but she didn't seem to mind. She had no fear.”