(no subject)
It's amazing to me how remarkably people can change. Then, there's always that conundrum - did s/he change or simply shift so the disguise wasn't quite so air-tight?
Thoughts I have on a hot, hazy day with Tommy Petty playing in the background ("so let me get to the point...").
I was thinking of ordering Paul McCartney's "Ram" - because, shamefully enough, I've never owned that CD. And I really think it ought to be in my collection, along with "Band on the Run" - cause for yet another embarrasing blush. When it comes to early solo work and Wings stuff, I really only have compilations that are hardly all-inclusive. They date back to my less intensive days of being a fan - say, my 13th birthday. But as I have, to date, never been really disappointed with an album of his, I feel I should have these two. I was one click away from purchasing slightly used ones... after all, a VISTA can't be choosy.... and then thought I might be getting a little loose with the funds. So, at the last minute, I aborted mission. Sadly. And not without regret. And they've been preying on my mind ever since, throughout lunch. Which is saying something - that their pleadings could be heard over the disturbing words of Lolita! I'd write more on that, but what's to say? Its plot makes me feel uncomfortably ill, but its prose is so beautiful and clever and just... unique. I can't stop reading it. I guess that trend follows me through to music. Music with lyrics (which I, like everyone else, find much more commonplace and less visceral than instrumental, but still - like "water to wine" - tips hat to Twain) strikes me much the same way, only differently: I can become fixated on the turn of a phrase, a certain harmonization, or maybe just a surprising key change. And lyrics - well, I don't really care. If they complement the music, all the better; but they can be stupid and pointless, redundant to the point of idiocy, and I won't care. Or like the song any less. Of course, only so long as the music is beautiful, or moving, or something.
I do worry, though, that I turn down beautiful stories because I can't get hooked reading their craft. When I like the style, reading goes by in a blur. When not, I struggle to pick up the book (put it down...), and don't give the plot half a chance to get off the ground. Maybe it was being an English major that did this - being spoiled off of/having to read works from the canon day in and out, even against my will quite a few times :). But really - this can't be a good habit to get into. Not when I'm about to embark on an MA which will involve primarily non-fictional readings! This is a very scary development, in fact.
In the meantime, I'm in search of more Nabokov-like worded works (heh, good luck trying - this guy wrote in Russian AND English, amazing) - but also things like Twain (so darkly clever), Dickens (so delightfully wordy and parenthetical, only not outright), Updike (wow - just wow). I need some suggestions, outside of these authors. Not that I've exhausted all of their offerings, but I'd like to try something new.
Thoughts I have on a hot, hazy day with Tommy Petty playing in the background ("so let me get to the point...").
I was thinking of ordering Paul McCartney's "Ram" - because, shamefully enough, I've never owned that CD. And I really think it ought to be in my collection, along with "Band on the Run" - cause for yet another embarrasing blush. When it comes to early solo work and Wings stuff, I really only have compilations that are hardly all-inclusive. They date back to my less intensive days of being a fan - say, my 13th birthday. But as I have, to date, never been really disappointed with an album of his, I feel I should have these two. I was one click away from purchasing slightly used ones... after all, a VISTA can't be choosy.... and then thought I might be getting a little loose with the funds. So, at the last minute, I aborted mission. Sadly. And not without regret. And they've been preying on my mind ever since, throughout lunch. Which is saying something - that their pleadings could be heard over the disturbing words of Lolita! I'd write more on that, but what's to say? Its plot makes me feel uncomfortably ill, but its prose is so beautiful and clever and just... unique. I can't stop reading it. I guess that trend follows me through to music. Music with lyrics (which I, like everyone else, find much more commonplace and less visceral than instrumental, but still - like "water to wine" - tips hat to Twain) strikes me much the same way, only differently: I can become fixated on the turn of a phrase, a certain harmonization, or maybe just a surprising key change. And lyrics - well, I don't really care. If they complement the music, all the better; but they can be stupid and pointless, redundant to the point of idiocy, and I won't care. Or like the song any less. Of course, only so long as the music is beautiful, or moving, or something.
I do worry, though, that I turn down beautiful stories because I can't get hooked reading their craft. When I like the style, reading goes by in a blur. When not, I struggle to pick up the book (put it down...), and don't give the plot half a chance to get off the ground. Maybe it was being an English major that did this - being spoiled off of/having to read works from the canon day in and out, even against my will quite a few times :). But really - this can't be a good habit to get into. Not when I'm about to embark on an MA which will involve primarily non-fictional readings! This is a very scary development, in fact.
In the meantime, I'm in search of more Nabokov-like worded works (heh, good luck trying - this guy wrote in Russian AND English, amazing) - but also things like Twain (so darkly clever), Dickens (so delightfully wordy and parenthetical, only not outright), Updike (wow - just wow). I need some suggestions, outside of these authors. Not that I've exhausted all of their offerings, but I'd like to try something new.