There is no preparing for the unforeseeable, the unpredictable; it's just part and parcel of life. And yet there's no acceptance in that "just" as well. There is no preparing for what is inevitable either.
One of the disadvantages of not belonging anywhere is there is no continuity to time. Instead, one is transported-perhaps jolted is a better word-by the sudden reappearance of a familiar sound, a particular slant of the light, to another place, another time, another life...
Foyles has had a face lift and shifted two doors down. From a dense, medieval cloister with piles of books heaped up haphazardly on the floor to a generic 90's hip place selling moleskin notebooks and weak latte. And now, with its open plan, bright light, light wood furnishing it comes across as less of a bookshop and more as a sort of post-modern lounge. It has its charms, sure, but the face isn't the same...
The poetry section is considerably weaker. What immediately strikes you, apart from the fewer number of people in the store, is the poor lay out and selection of poetry books. Why focus on Kipling and Leonard Cohen?
Of course, whenever you enter such a place-and, in general, when you come back to London, you are reminded of how much you miss out on (and have missed out on). I suppose this sense of a world of possibilities slipping away can become oppressive at times. In the same way, if you see an attractive woman ...
And, of course, this is madness. The inability to accept one's station, one's limited potential, is itself a feature of our times, if not of time itself. It's not the many lives we could have had but the single life that wasn't lived fully. By wanting to 'have it all' we end up having nothing. Perhaps your puritan roots will always feel there's a shadow thrown around all desires. Or, to put it another way, when it comes down to religion your heart is not quite in it. You flick through Merton looking for a wisdom without religion. Which is to say: foolishly. The desire for understanding is suspect if it doesn't break through the image.
~~~
Limited funds, space and time. So, the choice of books will have to be thought through carefully. Again, derivative, second-order questions and perspectives plague you. You imagine a book without footnotes. And, more radically, occasionally suffer from Mir's syndrome (Dyer) hoping to do without them altogether.
~~~
You walk in the peak hour against the stream of humanity. Every face seems preoccupied and distracted and it leaves its mark.Or it could be me. It's only when you hear the calm, measured voices on the radio do you feel relieved.
One of the disadvantages of not belonging anywhere is there is no continuity to time. Instead, one is transported-perhaps jolted is a better word-by the sudden reappearance of a familiar sound, a particular slant of the light, to another place, another time, another life...
Foyles has had a face lift and shifted two doors down. From a dense, medieval cloister with piles of books heaped up haphazardly on the floor to a generic 90's hip place selling moleskin notebooks and weak latte. And now, with its open plan, bright light, light wood furnishing it comes across as less of a bookshop and more as a sort of post-modern lounge. It has its charms, sure, but the face isn't the same...
The poetry section is considerably weaker. What immediately strikes you, apart from the fewer number of people in the store, is the poor lay out and selection of poetry books. Why focus on Kipling and Leonard Cohen?
Of course, whenever you enter such a place-and, in general, when you come back to London, you are reminded of how much you miss out on (and have missed out on). I suppose this sense of a world of possibilities slipping away can become oppressive at times. In the same way, if you see an attractive woman ...
And, of course, this is madness. The inability to accept one's station, one's limited potential, is itself a feature of our times, if not of time itself. It's not the many lives we could have had but the single life that wasn't lived fully. By wanting to 'have it all' we end up having nothing. Perhaps your puritan roots will always feel there's a shadow thrown around all desires. Or, to put it another way, when it comes down to religion your heart is not quite in it. You flick through Merton looking for a wisdom without religion. Which is to say: foolishly. The desire for understanding is suspect if it doesn't break through the image.
~~~
Limited funds, space and time. So, the choice of books will have to be thought through carefully. Again, derivative, second-order questions and perspectives plague you. You imagine a book without footnotes. And, more radically, occasionally suffer from Mir's syndrome (Dyer) hoping to do without them altogether.
~~~
You walk in the peak hour against the stream of humanity. Every face seems preoccupied and distracted and it leaves its mark.Or it could be me. It's only when you hear the calm, measured voices on the radio do you feel relieved.
4 comments:
i think one could have a book done only by collecting all your posts about bookshops here - the most wonderful book about bookshops, with all your pondering about reading and time and life - i don't think such a book has been written?
(but what do you have against Cohen? :-P)
Hello, Roxana! Great to hear from you!!
Nothing against cohen in particular but I think the selection of poetry books is made on the basis-not unsurprisingly-of what will sell. So, lots of good poetry not included because it's not 'fashionable'. A more independent bookseller would choose what it thought was interesting and good poetry.
orr?
hope all is well? enjoying the hols.?
b.
Grand stuff, especially the mention of Mir's Syndrome. Wonder if you've seen the "Dream Sequence" in Papillon. Speaks volumes about the same thing as your commentary on choosing and not regretting.
Is it the "opportunity cost" concept that keeps us looking at the grass elsewhere? Don't all roads have similar principles: do good, be good, be polite, work hard, work smart, reject false idols and temptations, adhere to ideals and not images...?
Hello, S.
Not sure..i think there is often a conflict between different principles, things we value (such as equality and freedom; freedom and solidarity).
Secondly, it's not just about principles but the way a life is lived, in the flesh (and that depends on all sorts of contingencies, unique experiences that are only sometimes tied to 'principles'). ,..i.e. we want to think *and* feel the stars.
papillon..haven't seen that for ages but will watch it again when I'm in the land of the pure.
orr?
Take care,
K.
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