Skip to main content

Infinite Pages


Still reading Infinite Jest, laboriously. (Am reading small, portable UK edition.) I'm about a seventh way through. On the whole, I tend to be a speedy reader. This is not always something I'm proud of. But Long Books tend to give me the jitters. This one is giving me the jitters. I'm horrible at reading acronyms and hexa-syllabic chemical compounds and yet I can't put it down. This may be because I Will Not Admit Defeat or because I find David Foster Wallace fascinating or because it is so rare to be so close, so close, in the time-space-continuum to someone generally thought to be a genius or because it is - in all its heft and sickening fatness - engaging.

Because I do too many things that are easy; this is like trying to digest machinery and getting pieces of metal stuck in my teeth. There is resistance.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Natural Love

We sadly miss the beauty and silliness of medieval cosmology: “The sun, moon, and stars go still round…for love of perfection. This love is manifest, I say, in inanimate creatures. How comes a loadstone to drawn iron to it? jet chaff? The ground to covet showers, but for love? No creature, St. Hierome concludes, is to be found…[that does not love something], no stock, no stone, that hath not some feeling of love. ‘Tis more eminent in plants, herbs, and is especially observed in vegetals…the olive and the myrtle embrace each other in roots and branches if they grow near…” Robert Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy .

My Mad Girl

[A Question I am Not the First to Ask: What is it about women and madness? Are they more susceptible to delusion than men are? The subject of many books and hypotheses, we wonder if madness dogs the steps of creative women (eg. Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, Charlotte Perkins Gilman…) Is it a biological coincidence or a recurring phenomenon? Is it socially reinforced? Do men fear the hysterical women? Is it the uterus (Greek “hysteria”) which turns the brain?] The reclusive writer, the late Janet Frame, winner of all of New Zealand’s literary prizes, spent much time in institutions and in therapy and, as far as I can tell, her novels commonly include themes of estrangement, mental health and madness. Frame considered her 1963 novel Towards Another Summer too personal be published in her lifetime. As she’d already written an autobiography ( Angel at My Table , made into a film by Jane Campion) and been this subject of several biographies, this is telling. Towards Another Su...
Attention poetry mavens: any suggestions for good contemporary poets (either in general or particular collections)? Have sudden appetite but very little idea where to start. Any advice welcome!