(no subject)
Valentine's Day is one of those things that everyone is know is incredibly cynical about, which means I pretend to be too, and spend most of the run-up lamenting social coercion, the greed of restaurateurs, and the general cynicism of the greetings-card industry - which, I suppose, is at least performing the vital service of keeping the world's most abysmal poets off the streets. Anyway, the truth is I love it, and I love the chance to buy little presents and have an excuse to eat out and tell my girlfriend what I think of her.
Not that I've had the chance yet, because we aren't seeing each other till today. It's been a crazy week for both of us - she's been working overtime because she's not very good at saying no to her editor, and I've been all over the place with strange little projects of my own, including interviewing for a job in Paris about which I will get more excited if they continue to show an interest.
I have to mention George Steiner's latest book, which is a series of essays about all the books he never write, and why he didn't. Good idea, but unfortunately Steiner is a ludicrous self-appointed intellectual, who has twice the pretentiousness of Clive James but only half the justification. The second chapter is the one that has wound up all the critics, because it's basically a long list of all the lovers Steiner has had in different languages. I quite like this as an idea, but the po-faced approach is...scarcely believable.
"Gloriously astride me, my first teacher in the arts of orgasm ... bade me 'Come, come now and deep.' But did so using the formal vous," he tells us solemnly. Another lover "when nearing climax . . . would cry out, though in a muted register, the name ‘Sankt Nepomuk the Lesser.’ " Steiner remembers one girl primarily for her "lobelias gently watered with saliva." I lost it completely at this bit, about a Viennese conquest who
mapped her own opulent physique and that of her lover(s) with place names derived from the capital's varied districts and suburbs. Thus 'taking the streetcar to Grinzing' signified a gentle, somewhat respectful anal access.
I do like that "somewhat". "Somewhat respectful". . .you kind of imagine him cheerfully exclaiming, "I do beg your pardon!" as he parts the cheeks.
I can only hope now that "Streetcar to Grinzing" is taken up by some punk rock group in search of a suitable name.
Not that I've had the chance yet, because we aren't seeing each other till today. It's been a crazy week for both of us - she's been working overtime because she's not very good at saying no to her editor, and I've been all over the place with strange little projects of my own, including interviewing for a job in Paris about which I will get more excited if they continue to show an interest.
I have to mention George Steiner's latest book, which is a series of essays about all the books he never write, and why he didn't. Good idea, but unfortunately Steiner is a ludicrous self-appointed intellectual, who has twice the pretentiousness of Clive James but only half the justification. The second chapter is the one that has wound up all the critics, because it's basically a long list of all the lovers Steiner has had in different languages. I quite like this as an idea, but the po-faced approach is...scarcely believable.
"Gloriously astride me, my first teacher in the arts of orgasm ... bade me 'Come, come now and deep.' But did so using the formal vous," he tells us solemnly. Another lover "when nearing climax . . . would cry out, though in a muted register, the name ‘Sankt Nepomuk the Lesser.’ " Steiner remembers one girl primarily for her "lobelias gently watered with saliva." I lost it completely at this bit, about a Viennese conquest who
mapped her own opulent physique and that of her lover(s) with place names derived from the capital's varied districts and suburbs. Thus 'taking the streetcar to Grinzing' signified a gentle, somewhat respectful anal access.
I do like that "somewhat". "Somewhat respectful". . .you kind of imagine him cheerfully exclaiming, "I do beg your pardon!" as he parts the cheeks.
I can only hope now that "Streetcar to Grinzing" is taken up by some punk rock group in search of a suitable name.