They say around these parts that before a season finally ends there's one last flaring up, one last reminder of what has truly passed. So, these long summer days here in the midst of what should be autumn are not that surprising, I suppose, but it does mean that there's an all-pervading sense of time not having really started, an uneasy feeling of us being stuck in the low gears.
After 165 pages or so you decided to abandon McEwan. This does sound half-crazy but why dignify the book and author by completing it? There is now an ever-growing list of books that remain uncompleted. Over the summer you gave up on Adler's Speedboat (too showy), Derek Raymond's second factory novel (simply awful tripe..such a pity given the brilliance of the other three) and a rather silly book by John Buchan.
Other books have only temporarily been moved down the list (of course, Exley, which I've started seven times!. Maybe it's a spell. If I actually do manage to read it I'll probably stop writing here!).
Mary wisely said to me, why not just read Ferrante and forget McEwan and his ilk. It was that simple.
~
The other day I was at a convenience store and I saw two rather huge and imposing figures-a middle aged couple-asking the cashier, "What are these?"
The cashier replied calmly, "they are cRoissants."
The man shook them about about in their box and pursued his line of inquiry: "Are they sweet?"
"No, " said the cashier. "They are salty, people have them with tea."
What an odd conversation. Ten minutes later I saw them parked outside the store in the semi-darkness, in their Pajero jeep. They were wolfing down the croissants, throwing all caution to the wind, completely devoted to the task before them with what in older times would have been called 'gay abandon.'
~
The other day a young kid spent the good part of the morning scraping clean my office floor. Really arduous work removing all that glue which had previously been stuck to the carpet. Having some sympathy for him-me being of the working classes, innit?- I made him some tea and asked him how many sugars (how much sugar) he wanted. He sipped down some of it and then nonchalantly looked up at me: "There's not enough sugar". Cheeky blighter!
~
New term. Lots of young faces and wide-eyed innocence. Are you the only person getting old in this place?
After 165 pages or so you decided to abandon McEwan. This does sound half-crazy but why dignify the book and author by completing it? There is now an ever-growing list of books that remain uncompleted. Over the summer you gave up on Adler's Speedboat (too showy), Derek Raymond's second factory novel (simply awful tripe..such a pity given the brilliance of the other three) and a rather silly book by John Buchan.
Other books have only temporarily been moved down the list (of course, Exley, which I've started seven times!. Maybe it's a spell. If I actually do manage to read it I'll probably stop writing here!).
Mary wisely said to me, why not just read Ferrante and forget McEwan and his ilk. It was that simple.
~
The other day I was at a convenience store and I saw two rather huge and imposing figures-a middle aged couple-asking the cashier, "What are these?"
The cashier replied calmly, "they are cRoissants."
The man shook them about about in their box and pursued his line of inquiry: "Are they sweet?"
"No, " said the cashier. "They are salty, people have them with tea."
What an odd conversation. Ten minutes later I saw them parked outside the store in the semi-darkness, in their Pajero jeep. They were wolfing down the croissants, throwing all caution to the wind, completely devoted to the task before them with what in older times would have been called 'gay abandon.'
~
The other day a young kid spent the good part of the morning scraping clean my office floor. Really arduous work removing all that glue which had previously been stuck to the carpet. Having some sympathy for him-me being of the working classes, innit?- I made him some tea and asked him how many sugars (how much sugar) he wanted. He sipped down some of it and then nonchalantly looked up at me: "There's not enough sugar". Cheeky blighter!
~
New term. Lots of young faces and wide-eyed innocence. Are you the only person getting old in this place?
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