I am below ground again. I am below ground often. Reading En Attendant Godot I have a special appreciation for the timelessness of the situation. It might be summer, it might be winter but it is fall and it is 7 pm.
I read two articlettes about Beckette, both of which quoted Robbe-Grillet. Alain, the man who taught me to read. I have Le Voyeur sitting lonely on my shelves, three quarters of the pages still waiting for a paper knife. Maybe winter will come with the luxury of reading a difficult book. Difficult because it's in French, and because it's new or whatever.
I've been rereading the Belgariad, if that gives you a sense of my capacity for intellectual stimulation. For those of you who don't know me, which is all of you, I have read those thousand or more pages more than thirty times, I think. I lived and breathed that book in Switzerland. My first love was a character in that book, if anyone is my first love. Reading it is like throwing a blanket over the toes of my brain. It is so safe. I read it so quickly; half-memorized sentences fly through my filters before I can question the style or vocabulary or questionably racist political structures.
My officemate is back and so I won't be able to write much more. I never feel like there is a time or a space that is big enough for me to write. I'm thinking about renting a cabin on the coast in december.
Back to physics.
OH WAIT incredible discovery: Alain Robbe-Grillet was trained as an agricultural engineer which gives me a perverse hope that I will find what I'm looking for one day.
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