May 26, 2011
Middle of Moravia’s Boredom and I begin to see why he never could have written a response to this book in the form of Cecilia. His conception of women is too limited. I shall read his other works to see if it remained in abeyance
It would have to be another writer who appropriated and inverted what he established here perhaps.
What he established remains compelling, if limited. Crochet – he knits only on the one needle.
May 26, 2011
En famille
Each morning a conversation takes place between my two males that I listen to, often, it takes place in the next room but today it was in the bed beside me over the head of a free range guinea pig between the lot of us. Lately the exchange is a recap on events of The Game or The Match and information related to injuries, speculation and adjudication. (In other words the late breaking news of yester-eve).
Today for emphasis my son addressed his dad as “Dude, blah blah blah” It was very touching.
I enjoy these daily exchanges (and sometime heckle them to little effect) the same way I enjoy the weather forecast and boiling the kettle. They are the markers of my day. The morning exchange indicates the day has begun. The boyos have woken and onward we all trek.
May 25, 2011
Moravia’s Boredom
I have been reading Alberto Moravia’s Boredom intensely during some sleep-disturbed nights and long sick-bed days. I started it sometime ago, but read over to Breton’s Nadja and much else before finally coming back to meet it encore a few days ago.
100 pages in, I went back and read the introduction written by a friend of Moravia’s who used to take walks with him. Moravia the essay explained walked because of sciatica and boredom. I don’t tend to read introductory essays because i prefer to read the writer’s work as it was intended read in the first instance. But in this instance I was glad whatever sent me to it did, because what I learnt tied in with some of the motivation and query behind my deciding to read this particular book in the first place.
I have to say of it that it’s compulsive and like crochet. The character he depicts in the first person is very familiar, almost uncomfortably familiar. You may be surprised how familiar he is. Perhaps it’s not the he or the character that’s familiar but the agitation and grinding nature of his dissatisfaction, his numb distance and flattened affect. There’s something universal in that. That’s what he’s captured — the grinding unease — in this portrait, despite the specifics of class and privilege and culture in this Roman depiction.
I am not quite finished the novel yet, so on va voir where else it goes. Would love to have seen Moravia write a second version and invert this novel and retell it from the perspective of Cecilia. (Boredom Deux perhaps). A response to Dino perhaps.
May 24, 2011
collaring
From: why collar size matters when it comes to men’s shirts.
“Get the collar size wrong and you may end up with an ill-fitting garment. In the best case, there will be a yawning gap between collar and neck and you will give the appearance of swimming in your shirt. Get it too tight and you start endangering your health as the carotid and jugular veins in your neck get restricted for 8 hours a day if you wear a tie for work.”
Eh voila! The puzzling world of the collar.
May 24, 2011
The tomato plants are in — just in the nick of time according to Mme Beespeaker’s instruction on planting this weekend. Also the marigold looks distressed, but the brocolli content. The lettuces are over, except the one who remained in the Greenhouse. (do not imagine any impressive structure, glorified carrier bag)
My gardening assistant took his raking so seriously and accused me of nonchalance!
All the plots around ours are so much more advanced, I am nursing a degree of sadness over my inability to get prepped for today’s planting, but the challenges have been many including too little time, weather conditions, illness and general mayhem. But the thing with the garden is you have to put in, to pull out. But there’s so much joy over there and I love to spend time puzzling out why nothing is growing or puzzling out why is that particular thing growing when I never put it in there … and there’s the delight in what everyone else around me manages. Philip was out today and his garden is such a delight, and it’s always so abundant. I hope his arugula plant will return this year in my plot. It’s vaguely there, but may have been raked over in today’s co-operative venture.
May 24, 2011
River forecasting, weather vain as gaeilge
May 23, 2011
Last night as I was pondering a long stretch with a German dictionary to quell my curiousity over Johann Wilhelm Ritter’s Fragments of a physicist (not the precise title) I discovered the text, I was after, was actually right beneath my fingertips (unbeknownst).
It pays to scroll.
I had learnt from a Ritter academic that the prologue text I sought was not translated and I’d have to attempt to read it in German (the same way people Attempt Everest).
Strangely I had the identical experience trying to find out the hockey score yesterday. The match was on, the city was watching and yet I could not find out the score. I clicked the stream feature on the CBC and was watching two mysterious men chatting on the telephone instead of blokes flying about bashing each other. Finally I called up my beloved who was watching the match with my first born. What’s the score? Says I defeated. I have no idea why I wanted to know the score since I am technically not that interested in this round of hockey, but … when my curiosity is piqued …
May 23, 2011
Extraordinary footage of Tornado weather event in Missouri. The audio of the Tornado beggars belief. The sound on this piece is quite something.