Patricia HamplRecensioni

A treasure of thoughts on leisure and writing, of travel spiced with recollections of a loving marriage. A beautiful book.

Enjoyed the premise. Did not read all the book as it seemed to go off course.

I really enjoyed Hampl's exploration of 'the wasted day', which of course is not exactly what it seems. The backbone of her book is the life and work of Montaigne, who described his essais as being that that is passing, as opposed to being an inward look. She also sites other solitaries, including monastic. A paean to daydreaming too.

This is also a memoir about her life, her ancestry, the things of import to her.

Along side this she explores the capacity to be solitary together, within a relationship, and talks out loud to her departed husband with whom she sat for many years across the yellow table. So as well as solitude, there is an acknowledgement of loss. An acknowledgement of a continued conversation.½

Hempl writes memoir with the artistic flair of fiction. Her poignant account of her mother's passing includes detailed descriptions of St. Paul neighborhoods, her father's work as a florist, her own desire to reach beyond "the middle" of everything.

A historian friend loaned this title to me. After reading it I'm sure that the writer's clever weaving of time and place must be why she recommended it.

This is another book I read years ago, and now cannot recall what it was like.

Hampl helped me recall my feelings of how I could see the advantages of becoming a contemplative, without ever wanting that kind of life for myself. Her journey kept me reading.

Well that was delightful; like sitting down over coffee with a kindred spirit to discuss our shared experiences and interests.

There are too few reviews here, so I may write more, but not today.

This is one I read some time ago, know I enjoyed it, but cannot recall enough about to review.

Day to day details and descriptions like journal entries about one sort of life.

I came away from this book wanting to read more from Hampl.

Interesting collection of essays about writing memoir, which came about from a 2007 U of Minnesota conference called 'Who's Got the Story--Memoir as History/History as Memoir' (you can see video of the panel discussions there). Includes essays by Patricia Hampl, Carlos Eire, D.J. Waldie, and many more. I imagine I'll return to this...

One of my favorite types of literary endeavor is a poet who segues into prose; I think of Mary Carr, or Bob Dylan, or (shiver of delight) James Dickey (Deliverance), whereupon I find myself turning to these authors again and again. Such purity of prose! Such precision of language! The imagery! The clarity of thought! So, when I came across poet Patricia Hempl's "The Art of the Wasted Day," I thought that I would be reading a treatise on how to 'loaf' about, but not feel guilty. This was not to be the case. Hempl, the author of at least seven books of prose and poetry, possesses a high functioning intellect whose life, like mine, abounds with 'to do' lists, 'to go' ideas, and remorse over past deeds unfinished. She does, however, appreciate the mentality of an isolated Gregor Mendel, figuring out genetics alone in a monastery, or a lonely Montaigne or Emily Dickenson, writing solitary essays or poetry to appease their own states of mind. You see, I am fortunate to have a lot of free time on my hands and even more fortunate to be a day dreamer of the first order! One time, I was accosted by a mean-spirited Catholic priest who singled me out to yell, "You There! You with the perpetual sense of wonderment in your eyes!" He thought he was insulting me but, instead, he rather summed up my essence rather nicely, don't you think? As a result, I cannot state that Hempl's memoir, enthralling as it was, gave me any reassurance over my shortcomings or my 'misdeeds;' "Wild" author Sheryl Strayed, did, however, when she delivered this advice: "The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming." So, there you have it: it will work out, though no matter the situation, one cannot escape one's destiny!

A lovely, rambling (in space, time, and topic) elegy to leisure, writing, solitude, and passing time. I enjoyed reading the book, and found many passages intensely quotable. Whenever she speaks to "you," she is talking to her husband, who has died, and I often envied her the intimacy she seemed to share with him (and I am married 43 years myself), but those moments are scattered throughout long narratives of historical characters like the Ladies of Llangollen, Gregor Mendel, and Michel de Montaigne, and visits to their neighborhoods. It ends with a boat trip she took down the river with her partner.

I was ultimately unsatisfied by the book, which at times took digression to improbable heights and asserted equivalences I could not follow, whether because they were too densely rich or because they partook of some correspondence visible only within the author's universe.

I listened to the audiobook, and it may have coloured my impression. I found it, overall, fairly dull. Much more focused on the loss of her husband than I was expecting (maybe I didn't put enough weight on the "silver thread of inquiry" in the blurb), and with way too little emphasis on the sheer luck and privilege that underlies the option of living a life of leisure (or "the life of the mind" as she puts it in the book).

One of her historical examples is royalty. What about Montagne's servants, hmm? Or the people who farmed his land? How much leisure time did they get, and how much of a choice about it? And the two ladies--they were sent off to their romantic villa *with a maid!* Who gets a name, but whose options and level of leisure are never once discussed, that I can recall.

The writing is good, which is why it has as many stars as it does, but the "enlightened" life Hampl discusses here is an option for such a limited portion of humanity, such an insignificantly tiny number of humans when you think about it, that I suspect for most people--rushed as we are from pillar to post by the necessities of paying mortgages and for student loans and daycare and getting food on tables and bodies in beds and keeping the lawn below the bylaw limit etc. etc. without peasants creating our wealth for us or indentured servants (provided by wealthy parents!) keeping the house clean--the entire thing is going to seem jaw-droppingly tone deaf.

The author had a nice way with words, and some interesting observations at times. However, I guess I'm just not a fan of meandering essays. I'd assumed this would be about "wasting time" in life generally, but the subjects ranged all over the map, from previous travels to relationships to all sorts of things I've already forgotten. I prefer more of a purposeful topic in my books. Recommended for fans of Montaigne or maybe philosophy generally.

This book is hypnotic. I can tell you very little in the way of specifics. But I have a strong sense of what the book is about. I imagine I will recall the themes of this book more than a few times, perhaps enough to re-read it in a few years.

This topic is actually something I have been contemplating over the last year, as I have effectively "retired". Do I want to spend my time doing stuff (volunteering, gardening, etc), or do I want to spend most of my time just hanging out with the dogs, going on walks and reading? The former is how I have always defined myself, but I find the latter very attractive.

This book would suggest the latter. I think I'll give it a shot for a while and see how it goes.

The perfect book to read while sick - I may have lost patience with both the pace and the subject had I not been forced to be sedentary.

Though-provoking½

This was somewhat interesting and very well written. If I had not lived in Minneapolis at one time, I am not sure how interested I would have been in all the details of Patricia' parents' lives

It's not the story of Anton Dvorak stay in Spillville or Patricia Hampl's trip to Spillville. It is more a kind of musing on the trip and what Dvorak's experience was. It is an odd little book, but I enjoyed it.

The engraving described on the back cover as Elegant added nothing for me. They just looked like squiggly lines.

Reading a memoir of a seeker of serenity and add to it the seeker is from my hometown, I found intriguing. I enjoyed the stories of her youth and the descriptions of the streets I too had grown up on. But then I got lost. The characters she met along her path were never fully developed...interesting people, but such a shallow glimpse of them. Perhaps that's what Ms. Hampl experienced and was trying to portray...if so, good job, but I found myself counting pages to complete before I could put this book aside.

Reading a memoir of a seeker of serenity and add to it the seeker is from my hometown, I found intriguing. I enjoyed the stories of her youth and the descriptions of the streets I too had grown up on. But then I got lost. The characters she met along her path were never fully developed...interesting people, but such a shallow glimpse of them. Perhaps that's what Ms. Hampl experienced and was trying to portray...if so, good job, but I found myself counting pages to complete before I could put this book aside.

Reading a memoir of a seeker of serenity and add to it the seeker is from my hometown, I found intriguing. I enjoyed the stories of her youth and the descriptions of the streets I too had grown up on. But then I got lost. The characters she met along her path were never fully developed...interesting people, but such a shallow glimpse of them. Perhaps that's what Ms. Hampl experienced and was trying to portray...if so, good job, but I found myself counting pages to complete before I could put this book aside.

Reading a memoir of a seeker of serenity and add to it the seeker is from my hometown, I found intriguing. I enjoyed the stories of her youth and the descriptions of the streets I too had grown up on. But then I got lost. The characters she met along her path were never fully developed...interesting people, but such a shallow glimpse of them. Perhaps that's what Ms. Hampl experienced and was trying to portray...if so, good job, but I found myself counting pages to complete before I could put this book aside.

Review to follow :)