During our vacation, Michelle and I went down to the city library to pick up a library card and some reading material. Despite the inviting architecture, the library had very few books that inspired me to read. I browsed the entire place, and came up with two: a novel from Pynchon that ultimately went unread and was not Gravity's Rainbow (
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MT
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You were drunk a lot, weren't you.
Well, me too. And still am! Hooray! Meanwhile, B.E. Ellis can bite me. I know exactly what you mean about his work, which is impenetrable and completely self-indulgent. I'm still waiting on the Pynchon, but am working my way through Eco's "Foucault's Pendulum," so I figure that will do for the heavy reading until I feel ready to tackle the Pynchon.
I really like these Joan Didion essays, "Slouching Toward Bethlehem." You might dig 'em.
So why, exactly, are you working on bankruptcy pleadings?
Hope all's well!
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And I think you just saw me when I was drunk; I did spend most days pretty sober, especially in the at least 12 hours of detox I put myself through before every orchestra rehearsal.
I'm looking forward to finding a copy of Gravity's Rainbow. The Pynchon I got was Vineland, not even Crying Lot, so I didn't even start, so confounded was I from the BEE. I enjoyed Foucault's Pendulum a great deal, but not from any literary perspective. I think it deserves another reading or six before I can start to fully digest it.
I was really disappointed with the Ellis. Donna Tartt thanks him in something, and I ate up Secret History and the Little Friend, the latter of which was quite odd, and so I thought I'd give Ellis a shot. As I said, it started out ok, and then just unraveled. Unlike Infinite Jest, which is completely unraveled and the reader spends half of the book looking for a plot to coalesce ( ... )
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