There’s something about gathering around a short text. I do my best thinking, even my best writing, in book margins. Small picture, big frame. My ideal page has wide margins on all sides for comments, though with footnotes so the writer or the editor(s) can get into the act, too.
I love gathering around a text. I’ve loved it at college seminars, at church, at school, in book groups, at meals, with Victoria mornings before we go. The text as a table with room around it for many chairs.
I love co-ment.com. I’ve spent the day assessing my students’ comments there on the Gettysburg Address. It made me comment more. I find good texts — poems, portions of Scripture, portions of novels, portions of anything — inexhaustible. I organize my thoughts around them. I’ll walk weeks without a light with them. I’ll live a hard day deep down around a Bible verse or a snatch of poetry, a table set before me where mine enemy can pull up a chair, too, while laying down his arms.
I’ve always wanted others to see what I see in a text. And I want to see what they see, too.