Larkin...
Yay! I'm finally recovering a bit from my cold, and just in time for revising Larkin! When already depressed and down from being ill and useless, what better way to get a lift? But then, not all his poems are about futility in life and the inevitability of death. Rather amusing finishing off our revision session with a barbecue-typical English style, finishing by pulling everything inside thanks to the rain-seems so un-Larkin. I don't know if a man like that could ever have enjoyed having a bbq, although really veggie bbq's aren't so much to crow about - it really is the only time I miss eating meat. But I think that's more to do with memories associated with the smell than anything else. I would never actually want to eat it anymore. How strange that smells can stay with you more strongly than other things like events. And doesn't it seem odd to live out your life when you know that in the future you're likely to forget this exact moment and so many others? How strange is memory that we don't remember every detail, because in the present it's those details that seem most important to us. With that said, we do spend alot of time doing things that are fairly unmemorable, like watching television and surfing the web, and I suppose in the end you often have collective memories which have been shaped by your actions. With that said, I think I'm going to go read a book. Finished Evelyn Waugh's 'Vile Bodies' yesterday which was rather good but in a style which I am wholly unaccustomed to, I haven't really read much English literature of that period I don't think, but still it was largely enjoyable. Strange tone shift from rather gay and frivolous to somewhat bitter around half-way through though; perhaps Waugh was influenced by later events, like the war. Anways, next book is about the Taliban regime in Afghanistan and this girl's experiences; I'm just hoping the language isn't sacrificed to the story as is often the case in translated tales.