Wednesday night I saw Hedwig & the Angry Inch: I loved it. I have a thing for rock operas, it seems, but Hedwig really grabbed me.
I've just begun Illywhacker by Peter Carey. I always forget how much I love this man's writing. I can tell myself he's great, I can tell other people how wonderful Oscar & Lucinda and his short stories are, but then I begin reading him again and I see how little of him I can hold at one time. He takes such delight in his narrators, in their coyness, their earnestness. Their tales are never simple, but they insist that they are, that you need only pay attention and everything will become plain in time. But it never does. But it feels like it does. In between it's magic. I'm gleeful.
So, of the social group of a dozen Master's students, 3 have now left for home, never to return. Tomorrow, one more. By Monday, another 4. Fast friends, far flung. So it goes, so it goes, so it goes.
I'm just waiting out my lease while jobhunting online. And despite myself, I'm actually looking forward to the last of the leavetakings so I can stop partying and get to work. The words are just sitting there. And the blank page is so terrifying, taunting.
Tell me, gentle reader, of a time when you had to start anew.
I've just begun Illywhacker by Peter Carey. I always forget how much I love this man's writing. I can tell myself he's great, I can tell other people how wonderful Oscar & Lucinda and his short stories are, but then I begin reading him again and I see how little of him I can hold at one time. He takes such delight in his narrators, in their coyness, their earnestness. Their tales are never simple, but they insist that they are, that you need only pay attention and everything will become plain in time. But it never does. But it feels like it does. In between it's magic. I'm gleeful.
So, of the social group of a dozen Master's students, 3 have now left for home, never to return. Tomorrow, one more. By Monday, another 4. Fast friends, far flung. So it goes, so it goes, so it goes.
I'm just waiting out my lease while jobhunting online. And despite myself, I'm actually looking forward to the last of the leavetakings so I can stop partying and get to work. The words are just sitting there. And the blank page is so terrifying, taunting.
Tell me, gentle reader, of a time when you had to start anew.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
now now now and some hearty lashings of "now." in fact, i even had to move all my shit out of that neato apartment i just found, as we decided that we can't outlive the Apocalypse, while the Four Roachmen likely will ride right on, unbesmirched.
mmm, good luck responding to the saucy page-tauntings! i'll also have you know that the first CD i ever bought was The Who's Tommy.
p.s. you are an amusing, amusing man, man.
edited to say HOLY FUCKING BABY JESUS, CASHBUNDREN????
as in, Cash-"I made it on the bevel"-Bundren??? As I lay Dying is like my top book for weeping for about 4 different reasons, one of which because how in the FAULK does he write that way. sigh. sob. jealousy.
i even took a class last semester in which we read 8 Faulknermothas in as many weeks....and it did not kill the enjoyment for me. he is powerful like the undead.
[Edited on Jun 28, 2003]