(no subject)
I've been slowly reading and savouring Cormac McCarthy's novel Suttree for what has seemed like ages, but in actuality has been close to a week. I remarked to Jinnia that there's too many pages and too many words on said pages. It's the only one of McCarthy's books that I hadn't read, sitting there for about three years now first in a pile, then a box, and then a shelf, going through as many moves in as many years as I have. The fear I had in the back of my head was that, even though in reality it made no sense, I had the feeling that if I read it, I wouldn't have that "one book" to look forward to, or even more McCarthy books in the future as he was getting up there in age, and my reading somehow would jinx that.
At the moment, I'm at page 286 out 471, finally content that I made it through the midway point. It works best read slowly, hearing the flow of archaic words mixed in with the literary stream. There's no real plot of this one either, but it's shaping up to be my favorite.
There's a nice profile called "Cormac McCarthy's Venomous Fiction" from the April 19th edition of the New York Times which you can find here if you like. It's a bit of a longer read, but it's nice to put him in perspective before Oprah picked him up for her bookclub.
At the moment, I'm at page 286 out 471, finally content that I made it through the midway point. It works best read slowly, hearing the flow of archaic words mixed in with the literary stream. There's no real plot of this one either, but it's shaping up to be my favorite.
There's a nice profile called "Cormac McCarthy's Venomous Fiction" from the April 19th edition of the New York Times which you can find here if you like. It's a bit of a longer read, but it's nice to put him in perspective before Oprah picked him up for her bookclub.