![]() I want the whole world to be out of whack, I want every one to scratch himself to death.’ ( ) I am crying for more and more disasters, for bigger calamities, grander failures. Instead of being discouraged or depressed, I enjoy it. ![]() However, the effect upon me is exhilarating. Scratch and scratch, until there's no skin left. The atmosphere is saturated with disaster, frustration, futility. It's in the blood now - misfortune, ennui, grief, suicide. Everywhere I go people are making a mess of their lives. You scratch and scratch until the blood comes, but you can't get permanently deloused. People are like lice - they get under your skin and bury themselves there. Second time reading and still remains my favourite work, does writing get any better than this? but a literary ménage à trois doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. ![]() Has this ruined my personal relationship with the book? Maybe. Ian McShane does a tremendous job bringing out the humour and lyricism of Miller that my Beckett-esque mental voice tends to miss. Third time through, caved in and finally listened to my first audiobook. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |