how some pictures come to life only when you suck the color out
of them ...
no trouble sleeping ... would a person who operated from within
belief ... participated in some certainty ... ever feel a wrongness
in that attitude ... equal to the wrongness felt by the person
who was uncertain ...
know ... or ... i'm not sure ...
what is wrong with you ... to be uncertain is probably felt as
a wrongness ... maybe even shameful
in a system
or group that places much value on belief and affirms that belief
in terms of perceived certainties ... a person who has many doubts
will probably need to be silent ... very quiet ... or cautious
... in exposing those uncertainties to the view of others ...
yes ... very quiet
tough living with doubts about most of the things most people
find it important to believe in ... you'd probably need some kind
of rock to stand on in the midst of it all ... even if you were
all the time doubting that rock was even a rock ... & maybe it
was a cloud ... probably tough ... a tough cloud
between marcus/dylan binges i been struggling to settle my booklist
for next year ... so far the seniors look like:
1. Beckett, Samuel. Endgame.
Chekhov, Anton. The Cherry Orchard.
Oliver. She Stoops to Conquer.
4. O'Neill, Eugene.
The Iceman Cometh.
5. Shakespeare, William. Othello.
6. Shakespeare, William. Twelfth Night.
Shanley, John Patrick. Doubt.
8. Sophocles. Oedipus
9. Calvino, Italo.
10. Ellison, Ralph. Invisible
11. Faulkner, William. As I Lay Dying.
12. Dickens, Charles. Great Expectations.
13. O'Brien, Tim. The Things They Carried.
O'Connor, Flannery. Wise Blood.
The Crying of Lot 49.
16. Woolf, Virginia. Jacob's
& the sophs get ...
the usual ...
Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass.
F. Scott. The Great Gatsby.
Masters, Edgar Lee.
Spoon River Anthology.
Poe, Edgar Allan. The
Gold Bug and Other Tales.
Salinger, J. D. The
Catcher in the Rye.
Twain, Mark. Adventures of
Whitman, Walt. Song of Myself.
there's a certain ho-hum quality
to much of this that i just can't get out from under ... what,
for instance, can free me from mr. clemens, mr. faulkner ... and
where are the women ... especially for the sophs ...
greil marcus on 'like a rolling stone' but there's this passage
on robert johnson that reminds me i first learned anything about
johnson from marcus in maybe 76 in mystery train
audacious claim for the recordings in his notes ... and here he
goes again ... he starts with the old bluesmen other than rj:They speak the language of
what is known; ... Johnson speaks the language of what isn't.
That isn't why most of those who came before him lived on long
after Johnson's murder at a Mississippi juke joint in 1938; it
does make his music a kind of witness to his death. Inside the
figures he made onthe guitar andthe shadings of his voice there
are always possibilities other than those that are stated. At
the highest pitch of his music each note that is played implies
another that isn't; each emotion that is expressed hints at what
can't be said.
& i link
this with the (almost certainly not original) notion that came
to me yesterday in class ... near the end of some talk about pynchon's
lot 49 ... that maybe you could write a book in which the real
story is not CONTAINED in the words on the page but only TRIGGERED
by those words ... that another (ethereal parallel?) set of words/images
are provoked by the written words and that pro(e)voked business
is the truth ... well the actual tale ... and that if you got
just the right words on the page then every reader would end up
with the same understanding ... not just of the given story that
is but of the hidden (and truest) story that isn't ...
since i'm a weak & lazy autodidact in nearly all
lit theory matters, i'm guessing this may be some kind of oulipean
or lacanian or derridean notion already ... or maybe it's even
older than that ... but so what ... at any rate it fits with talk
of pynchon because of it's paranoid projections of a world
... and plays into most high school kids' suspicions that literature
(especially poetry) is already just such an impossibly coded array
& makes me wonder about
my stuff at fyp ... what am i (still) trying to do there ... & how
i'm still mostly shy & dumb about it because the talking usually
mucks up the doing ... & i'd rather keep doing for a while longer
... but the sense that there are some notes i'm trying to hit
... that if i just get the right combination i could change everything
... see ... at last ... get it ... that's at least a part of the
plan ... i think
& i end up
kind of guilty feeling because i think i should be turning at
least this much energy to reading scripture & juan de la cruz
& teresa & therese & all because i am after all brtom ... but
it's always been hard for me to see them hear them ... did they
have it ... they're touted for it ... & this marks me a weakness
... blind even & deaf i suppose .. wondering if i'll ever get
it ... ever in the short time i've got ... ever ... another poor
the international dateline in yr sleep ... i just noticed that
my latest at fyp
is post 3005 ... well ... that's something, isn't it ... but was
it work in the thermodynamic sense ... nah ... or how would the
energy it took be counted ... was it actually energy that it took
... even less to type them than to scrawl them out from a sweat-soaked
pencil stub ... still ... 3005 ... that's a bunch of something
i guess ...