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From Sexing the Cherry: They call me the Dog-Woman and it will do. I call him Jordan and it will do. He has no other name before or after. What was there to call him, fished as he was from the stinking Thames? A child can’t be called Thames, no and not Nile either, [...] In another of Schopenhauer’s aphorisms on books and writing, he starts out by distinguishing two types of book, which “can never be more than a reproduction of the thoughts of its author. The value of these thoughts lies either in the material, that is in what he has thought upon, or in the form, [...] It’s hard to read Elaine Dundy’s The Old Man and Me without comparing it to her previous novel, The Dud Avocado. I hate to do so, when I really think they’re quite different, but some superficial characteristics just beg for it. Namely, the whole “young American girl in Paris” converted to “young American girl [...] To the north, hill/mountain range, it’s colder, and to the east and west is the sea. The south you know already as the place you’ve come from, come so far only to be here, in this small town named for a feather and a stone. The feather drifts on the air, and the stone [...] |
My Personal Canon (ongoing project) |
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