(no subject)
somewhere in the rough outline of the early morning and i don't feel much like sleep. today i finished a great book by primo levi after a three day sprint. the only feeling better than finishing a book is beginning one. when you're scaling the heights of a book's final pages, you feel a double charge -- the excitement of puting one to rest and the prospect of animating the next, cracking it open and seeing how it springs to life and infuses you with it's energy and character.
in this case the next is out of africa, isak dinesen. stayed up late reading it, listening to lou reed, herbie hancock (three times?) and finally edith piaf. the book is evocative and very well written. intelligent, sensual, leisurely, and in no small part tragic. the opening pages alone...she describes a certain wind coming over a mountain range as creating the feeling of the earth thrusting out into space.
primo levi is a new idol for me. seldom have i read a book that bleeds so much intelligence and craft. beautiful, beautiful writing and he weaves paragraphs like complex rescipes, so in the end you end up with a mouth full of complex flavors, but you lose track of what all when into the pot and in what ammounts. since i am trying crack the code of writers as i read them, primo's book was fascinating and irritating all at once, as so many tricks are thrown in my face as i read that i am simultaneously eating it up and feeling my intelligence drain away for not being able to comprehend it all and see thru it into it's inner workings. it has almost no transparency at all as i experienced it. it is certainly a book to revisit when i mature as a reader and writer.
now i'm finally tired.
in this case the next is out of africa, isak dinesen. stayed up late reading it, listening to lou reed, herbie hancock (three times?) and finally edith piaf. the book is evocative and very well written. intelligent, sensual, leisurely, and in no small part tragic. the opening pages alone...she describes a certain wind coming over a mountain range as creating the feeling of the earth thrusting out into space.
primo levi is a new idol for me. seldom have i read a book that bleeds so much intelligence and craft. beautiful, beautiful writing and he weaves paragraphs like complex rescipes, so in the end you end up with a mouth full of complex flavors, but you lose track of what all when into the pot and in what ammounts. since i am trying crack the code of writers as i read them, primo's book was fascinating and irritating all at once, as so many tricks are thrown in my face as i read that i am simultaneously eating it up and feeling my intelligence drain away for not being able to comprehend it all and see thru it into it's inner workings. it has almost no transparency at all as i experienced it. it is certainly a book to revisit when i mature as a reader and writer.
now i'm finally tired.