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Thursday, June 01, 2006

Reading: 1

I am reading some character sketches by Ben Hur Lampman, published in a small book for the troops in 1943. My wife asked about his name and I said that I thought his parents had been admirers of General Wallace’s historical novel. (General Wallace had fought under Grant at Shiloh Church. That’s where Albert Sidney Johnston died. When writers or orators have said that the flower of youth has passed away in this war or that, it was no hyperbole nor flight of fancy. It was true. It still is true. A country looses the gathering wave of newness and bright faces and love and passionate involvement…and must settle for the greys of middle-age who know everything and have all the answers already. So ever will Empires pass away as long as humankind sees fit to spread the ideals it holds dearest with sword and fire.) I become tangential and meiotic from my intension. Reading is a craft. Reading is a form of consciousness to which we must try to return. I read everything under the sun. When I was a young, I would rise from my bed at night and sit reading by the night-light in the bathroom. I cannot remember why I did not get my fill of reading during the day. Perhaps Kindergarten wore heavily upon me; perhaps my parents disapproved of too much solitary pursuit. And let it be truly said that although we sing paeans to reading as an part of education, yet it is too solitary by far; it removes the reader from the bosom of society; it turns your head from the event planning procedures of the daylight brain, diverting you from that straight thoroughfare lined with sunlit buildings, regularly spaced on either side, and sends you down a hidden fork in the road: suddenly, suspiciously, filled with shops and stores with exotic wares – Calle Desconocida, I think, in Borges’ poems. Reading is way too much of a Temporary Autonomous Zone (TAZ). If we are not on guard, those TAZs could become PAZs (Permament Autonomous Zones). Autonomous Zones are really not consistent with Consumer Culture, which by definition is a Permanent Dependency Zone. I try to give a chance to every author. I will read at least something of their writing. I have tried to read Anne Rice 3 times! I have tried to read Danielle Steele. I failed. I do not mean to imply these authors are somehow beneath my august level of falderol. I literally could not read them. I made it through 2 pages of Anne Rice and about the same in Ms. Steele. Not giving up once, I came back and tried again. But no success. There is a certain structure and logos that grab my attention and these ladies did not have it. They have it for many others, however. The point is that, even though a particular book or blog or broadside or pamphlet may not be to your liking, there is something. There is an author out there for you. Give everything a test. Always try at least a paragraph. My usual rule is five pages. If someone can’t get my attention in five pages, another 200 won’t do it. To be conscious needs more than Music. To be conscious needs more than Images. It requires a grasp of language, too: spoken, written, and read. My name in Montag and I am of the readers. We maintain culture against the firemen who burn the consciousness of what has gone before.

6 comments:

Anna MR said...

Hurray, Montag. Keep up the good work and we'll follow you on the barricades, waving our books around.

This week, I have read AL Kennedy, Edward St. Aubyn, Steve Martin, and Ali Smith. Steve Martin I didn't like, Ali Smith is OK. The other two were very good.

Montag said...

I had never heard of Edward St.Aubyn. Then I looked him up in Google.

I think I will like his fiction more than his personal memoirs.

Anyway, it sounded a lot like Evelyn Waugh and his Brideshead Revisited.

And lo, within the reviews was:

"A millennial Evelyn Waugh . . . St. Aubyn has a wit that stings link disinfectant on a wound."
--Jessica Winter, The Village Voice

Anna MR said...

All critics seem to note his stinging wit. The thing is, he has also a lot of tenderness and understanding for his characters, even when they are making a mess of their lives. I like that.

Montag said...

Mmmm...just like Waugh.

and I think of Dean Swift's epitaph...something about fierce indignation will no longer lash his heart...

Wit stings the world since the World did sting also. And the world had priority, for it must have delivered the first cuff to the boy at a tender age when his innnocence could not have encompassed "stinging wit" and "retribution".

So when we say that the characters are making a mess of their lives, I think we might actually mean we are watching how they pull their shattered bodies along after the World has already made of mess of them...

I will read, then I think I should come back to this train of thought.

Anna MR said...

You put it much more eloquently than I, but that is more or less what his characters do. I hope you'll enjoy it. I am currently on the lookout for "Some Hope", having finished "Mother's Milk" last week.

Montag said...

Thank you for directing me to him.

I have a feeling I will like him.