Joel, Thanks for introducing me to Clarice Lispector's undulating prose of never before seen word combinations.
Frankly, I prefer your use of the English language to those of this particular muse of yours.
I re-read some of your passages to enjoy them anew. I re-read Lispector's in an attempt to understand, a struggle that dissuades me from further effort.
Sure, “time’s awastin’.” It’s hard to decode things hard to understand. But, I’m often hoping there might be some absolute Truth hidden beneath the obscure verbiage. Or, as Nassim Taleb wrote, “What fools call ‘wasting time’ is most often the best investment.”
Full of wisdom that fellow. I particularly like his take on ancient diets; the idea that you eat what your ancestors evolved to eat. Of course, that’s easy for him to say, being of Mediterranean descent.
Thanks, Jimm. You’re right…it’s hard to know what’s worth pursuing and what’s worth passing by. I remember wading through Part I of Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, wondering what all the fuss was about…until it all came together in the end. Same with Nabokov’s Ada, or Ardor. Notoriously difficult…then fantastically rewarding. I can’t imagine an agent getting past the first ten pages of either today, alas…
Joel, Thanks for introducing me to Clarice Lispector's undulating prose of never before seen word combinations.
Frankly, I prefer your use of the English language to those of this particular muse of yours.
I re-read some of your passages to enjoy them anew. I re-read Lispector's in an attempt to understand, a struggle that dissuades me from further effort.
Sure, “time’s awastin’.” It’s hard to decode things hard to understand. But, I’m often hoping there might be some absolute Truth hidden beneath the obscure verbiage. Or, as Nassim Taleb wrote, “What fools call ‘wasting time’ is most often the best investment.”
Full of wisdom that fellow. I particularly like his take on ancient diets; the idea that you eat what your ancestors evolved to eat. Of course, that’s easy for him to say, being of Mediterranean descent.
I’m rereading “The Bed of Procrustes” and can’t stop sharing quotes.
Thanks, Jimm. You’re right…it’s hard to know what’s worth pursuing and what’s worth passing by. I remember wading through Part I of Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, wondering what all the fuss was about…until it all came together in the end. Same with Nabokov’s Ada, or Ardor. Notoriously difficult…then fantastically rewarding. I can’t imagine an agent getting past the first ten pages of either today, alas…
Joel,
When do You “Peak”??? Each missive of Yours buries the last in glorious respect.
Too kind, good sir! Cheers!
I’ve recently discovered the poetry of Mary Oliver. So, speaking of hurricanes,
“It didn’t behave
like anything you had
ever imagined. The wind
tore at the trees, the rain
fell for days slant and hard.
The back of the hand
to everything. I watched
the trees bow and their leaves fall
and crawl back into the earth.
As though, that was that.
This was one hurricane
I lived through, the other one
was of a different sort, and
lasted longer. Then
I felt my own leaves giving up and
falling. The back of the hand to
everything. But listen now to what happened
to the actual trees;
toward the end of that summer they
pushed new leaves from their stubbed limbs.
It was the wrong season, yes,
but they couldn’t stop. They
looked like telephone poles and didn’t
care. And after the leaves came
blossoms. For some things
there are no wrong seasons.
Which is what I dream of for me.”
Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings.
I thought you might enjoy this one.
Your words...pearls of wisdom worn proudly around my neck.--Jean