NYC Day 24: In Which My Day is Mostly Forgetable - But Not Completely

Closing time at the Metropolitan Museum
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Today was one of those non-event days. By the time I got my act together, and to be frank, I don't think I managed to even do that, it was well past midday. I planned to return to the Met Museum and spend a few hours in the larger galleries, but after a good hour or so on the M4 bus, and somewhat starved of food, on arriving at the museum I immediately headed downstairs to the cafeteria where I bought something to eat and drink. I then proceeded to update my blog with yesterday's events. By the time I had done this, I had little more than an hour to wander through a few rooms before it was time to depart.

Above and a detail below: Geometry, a fresco (transferred to canvas) dating from 1760.
Attributed to Giovanni Battista Tiepolo and Girolamo Mengozzi.

 

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Above and info panel below: The Patio from the Castle of Velez Blanco.

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Above and info panel below: When I saw the above pages from a book (dating from 1434 - 35) illustrating the four Gospels, I immediately thought 'Comics!'. In a time period when few people could read or write, the best way to teach the story of the gospels was to illustrate them. 

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Above: I don't know about you but this statue of Saint James The Greater looks like it could have been the inspiration for one of the characters out of a Pirates Of The Carribean movie. According to the info panel for this statue, Saint James The Greater ('greater' than who or what?), is even wearing a hat "...emblazoned with a cockleshell emblem." Am I right, or am I right?

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BOOK SHOPPING AGAIN

At something of a loose end, I jumped on the first available bus, an M3, going down to the East Village, and alighted at 14th Street, whereupon I made my way to that most famous of all New York City book shops, the Strand Book Store (at 828, Broadway and 12th Street). This was my first visit during this trip, and I'm quite sure it won't be my last. As always, I was quite overwhelmed by the vast array of books lining its "18 miles of books," as they like to claim (and I am not about to question that claim any time soon). In deed, I wandered between dozens of towering bookshelves and display tables groaning under the weight of the books piled on them thinking to myself, Where are you supposed to start? And where are you supposed to stop?

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Of course, I had to buy something while I was there, and in the end was able to restrict myself to just three books, The Killer Inside Me, by Jim Thompson, The Bell Jar, by Silvia Plath, and Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys. All three authors and their books are highly regarded, and all have been on my radar for years, so the decision to buy was not hard. What will be hard, assuming I manage to read all six books I have bought so far, is whether to leave them behind in New York, or whether to take them back to Australia with me. Given that I returned home last year with a bag filled with books, I suspect I already know the answer to that question.

As a huge fan of Stanley Kubrick, the quote on the cover of Jim Thompson's book is of particular interest to me because it was Thompson who wrote the screenplays for two of Kubrick's earliest films, The Killing, and Paths of Glory. 

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Monday 10, July | Expenses $118.65 ($155.90)

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