Eh. scribble, scribble, scribble, what?
Inspired by this post by
hunningham which is a call-back to a post by
liv, and also the thoughts I have recently had while reading the biography of somebody who lived a life of high intensity sensation, which gave me the feeling of how very wearing that must have been, not merely for the person in question, but (one got the very distinct impression) for those around her who got caught up in all the backwash), and in fact, there were points where I was thinking, OMG, she is not entirely unlike Aunt Ada Doom: Persons of Aunt Ada's temperament were not fond of a tidy life. Storms were what they liked; plenty of rows, and doors being slammed, and jaws sticking out, and faces white with fury, and faces brooding in corners, faces making unnecessary fuss at breakfast, and plenty of opportunities for gorgeous emotional wallowings, and partings for ever, and misunderstandings, and interferings, and spyings, and, above all, managing and intriguing. Oh, they did enjoy themselves!
Which is possibly not an analogy anyone has ever before been moved to apply to somebody who came up through the wilder fringes of the New York 70s art-'n-lit scene...
Anyway, the sort of thing that is a fascinating trainwreck to read about, but makes one awfully glad not to have known the person, pretty much.
And on boring mundaneity (if that is a word), I remember that time in my life when I was gulping down Virginia Woolf's diaries, which really, are not about living On The Edge*, and contain a good deal of domestic and quotidien minutiae, and are (or so I found) quite compelling reading quite without all those things that one is told make for narrative compulsion. They include the famous 'haddock and sausage' apercu: And now with some pleasure I find that it’s seven; and must cook dinner, Haddock and sausage meat. I think it is true that one gains a certain hold on sausage and haddock by writing them down.
Will concede that perchance, some people's diaries and letters are compelling reading even if they are not about Sensational Events and Occurences because of their ability to write.
Or, just possibly, the trivial round and common task and the daily trials and/or pleasures of existence are, in fact, worth reading about.
*Although I recollect reading somewhere that Virginia was not averse to stirring up imbroglios among her circle, in a perhaps rather more subtle fashion than Aunt Ada.
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