{ bibliophilia isn't actually the right word. }

[delga]

This week, in between marathoning Homicide and fending off my family, I've been reading like a madwoman. I read a lot anyway, and I don't mean I read a lot of books. I mean: I read a lot. I read the small print on packaging whilst I'm eating my lunch; I wake up, I get dressed, and I slog through the hundreds of RSS feeds that I'm subscribed to via Google Reader (which, by the by, equals ampersand-hearts). I find I need a synonym for a word, so I end up reading the etymology for it. I'm watching TV, a DVD, a film, and I'm reading the credits, or I'm reading the signs in the scene. I read poetry in droves these days - quickly, not taking it in properly unless I'm particularly taken by it. I read fanfiction for fandoms I'm not involved in. I read the newspaper, and the magazines inside it; I read the magazines that my parents read - a bit of People's Friend, a bit of Convenience Store. I read The [Local] Advertiser.

Everybody does this, I think, so it's not a great feat. And I don't read as much literature as most of my flist does. But this week I've read nearly a novel per day. And right now I'm reading Philip Roth's The Dying Animal. Once I've finished I'm going to sit down with The Time Traveller's Wife and read that properly. I'm going to go back to the beginning and be serious about it this time instead of getting distracted. It isn't that it's not good or that it's not to my taste; it's actually that it's exactly to my taste so far and I'm worried (stupidly) that I'll like it too much.

--

I came across The Dying Animal a month or so ago when I saw the trailer for Elegy. It's ridiculous - and perverse - how much this appeals to me, but there you have it. I've bought the book. I'm finally reading the book.

I've yet to see Venus although that sounds like it's my kind of thing, too. But the more I read these, the more I'm finding that it's more that the subject matter is reaching towards what I want from it and being waylaid by the author, or the narrator, or the perspective. It's not really what I want. It's a little bit frustrating.

Which is not to say that I haven't found something from these books, or these films. I can't say that Memoirs of a Geisha, once I made the connection, didn't strike me powerfully (which is difficult considering how much I loved it anyway). I can't say that I'm not getting anything from The Dying Animal. Because there's something open and crass in the language here, something lightly disgusting - not overly so, not so perverse as to lose the sheen, but something that I'm enjoying all the same.

I've just read the last page three times. I can't pinpoint the poetry; maybe that's half the point.

   How do I capture Consuela? The thought is morally humiliating, yet there it is. I'm certainly not going to hold her by promising marriage, but how else can you hold a young woman at my age? What am I able to offer instead in this milk-and-honey society of free-market sex? And so that's when the pornography begins. The pornography of jealousy. The pornography of one's own destruction. I am rapt, I am enthralled, and yet I am enthralled outside the frame. What is it that puts me outside? It is age. The wound of age. Pornography in its classic form has a kick of about five or ten minutes before it becomes kind of comical. But in this pornography the images are extremely painful. Ordinary pornography is the aestheticising of jealousy. It takes the torment out. What—why "aestheticising"? Why not "anaesthetising"? Well, perhaps both. It's a representation, ordinary pornography. It's a fallen art form. It's not just make-believe, it's patently insincere. You want the girl in the porno film, but you're not jealous of whoever's fucking her because he becomes your surrogate. Quite amazing, but that's the power even of fallen art. He becomes a stand-in, there in your service; that removes the sting and turns it into something pleasant. Because you're an invisible accomplice in the act, ordinary pornography takes the torment out while mine keeps the torment in. In pornography, you identify yourself not with the satiate, with the person who is getting it, but with the person not getting it, with the person losing it, with the person who has lost.

- from The Dying Animal by Philip Roth

I'm pretty certain this isn't what people expected me to post from the text when I was talking about being taken by the language. Often I'm taken by striking and pretty images and ideas; I'm easy and superficial that way, and I make no excuse for liking things that are aesthetically likeable. But this book contains lines like "Then she's past you, she's gone, and the pornography spins out of control" and I just don't know, but I'm really, really enjoying it.

--

The tiresome part is the part where you look for the thing that matches your need - your request, boon, desire - exactly and can't find it. It has to exist somewhere but I'm just not there yet.

--

In the meantime, The Mother has decided that she wants to clear the bookshelf downstairs (why? None of the books are hers, nor the other things that are kept there. She doesn't even own a book) and is now haphazardly throwing my and my sister's things into a large black bin bag. Bloody hell.

Comments

[twincy.livejournal.com]

Ampersand-hearts should be a name for something. !

A novel a day, my god. These days I'm lucky if I manage one a month. Which is a sad, sad thing that should be resolved already.

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Ha, like a Weepies rip-off band? (I don't know; weirdly it was the first thing that came to mind.)

Yeah, except for the part where I have a better memory of the Homicide episode I've got paused than I do most of what I've read. Also: I probably won't read for the rest of summer, now.

Hee, on that note: how goes Joyce?

[twincy.livejournal.com]

Lols! A folksy acoustic band is what sprung to my mind, as well.

Joyce goes: not at all. Am theoretically still reading the Byron bio, but in practice, I read only three pages a day.

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

In your defence, if I didn't have to read the Joyce for class, I probably wouldn't have finished it ever, regardless of how much I enjoyed it. I have Plath's Journals on my shelf which I started five years ago and never got around to since. (Did you see Sylvia last night? Or did you miss it, as I did?)

Does the Byron continue to be delightful? It's been so long since I've read a non-fiction text that wasn't to do with Plath.

[twincy.livejournal.com]

! I only just now made the connection - Sylvia Plath. Now I regret not being more interested last night, lols. Which is to say: I didn't tune in. But then, my normal people hours vanished into thin air yesterday. I remember looking at the clock, expecting it to be 4pm - it was EIGHT.

Byron is slow-going. My frustration with the author is increasing, and in places, it's a little too complete and detailed. I don't always care.

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Ach, I should have been more specific. It's a haunting piece, and Paltrow is surprisingly-well cast (I tend to dislike her enormously, but she pulls out some good work); I forgot to tape it last night, so, super sigh. re: time distortion, haha, I hear that. Though thankfully I haven't had that happen to me in a while. (So disconcerting! Also: day displacement. "What do you mean it's Wednesday?!")

I hate when that happens. lols, maybe you should cheat and skim read it? (I can't believe I just suggested that, LOL.)

[twincy.livejournal.com]

Paltrow plays Plath? Alliteration, lols. You can probably download it somewhere? I would, except I have a big backlog of films I have to watch. When I'm yenning for something, I'm so much more inclined to put on an episode of a serial rather than a film.

maybe you should cheat and skim read it?
Oh, I couldn't. Mostly because it doesn't save time? I just go back and reread the bits I skipped, anyway, because I always miss something crucial.

(I think this whole reading thing would go a lot better if I just went and got new contact lenses already. Squinting doesn't exactly make the experience more enjoyable.)

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Yeah, and Daniel Craig plays a convincing Ted Hughes. There's this section in the film depicting the way in which the two meet and, oh, it's marvellous. Reciting verse as quickly as they can. And then later, Paltrow (as Plath) reciting Daddy - Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through. The film came out just as I was beginning to get interested and I guess it just fuelled my love of the work. I wish I had a projector of my own because watching films is somehow more satisfying in the dark and larger than life.

I'm so much more inclined to put on an episode of a serial rather than a film.
Yes! I don't know, convenience, I guess. But also because sometimes a film is just too long. Forget that it's probably only double the length of a serial, but at least you know the act division in the latter. It feels shorter.

You're more dedicated than I am to your understanding of something, hee - I'm a cheat when it comes to some parts and I'll skim sometimes. Or, I did, when I had a stupid workload at uni.

(Ouch. Yeah, I need new spectacles, too, but not a student any more, so first I need to find the funds.)

[twincy.livejournal.com]

! Okay, now I'm Intrigued.

I wish I had a projector of my own because watching films is somehow more satisfying in the dark and larger than life.
Oh, yes! I love the cinema experience. Especially indie cinema because the theatres are smaller, and the films are, you know, not a ton of regurgitated crap.

I don't know, convenience, I guess.
For me it's also to do with knowing the characters. Kind of like the choice between hanging out with an old friend, or going on a first date with someone you're not sure you'll like. Kind of. My ridiculous emotional investment in fictional characters, let me show you it.

Or, I did, when I had a stupid workload at uni.
That's different, though. I'm reading this for the sake of it, and nothing bad happens if I don't finish it - or don't finish it now.

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Especially indie cinema because the theatres are smaller
Indie theatres are things of beauty. I freaking love them.

For me it's also to do with knowing the characters.
That makes sense - sticking to what you know is comforting. Especially if you're watching something to fulfil a particular yen.

True, true. I'll probably ask you how it's going at least twice more before you finish it, but let me know what you think when you're done *g*

[the-muppet.livejournal.com]

In the meantime, The Mother has decided that she wants to clear the bookshelf downstairs (why? None of the books are hers, nor the other things that are kept there. She doesn't even own a book) and is now haphazardly throwing my and my sister's things into a large black bin bag. Bloody hell.

I cannot throw books away. I suppose it's a fault really as I'll hang onto any book, whether I like it or not, as I just cannot throw books away. It's just... wrong to me.

Anyway,

*hugs*

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Well, she's not throwing the books away. I think most of the stuff is going to charity. Suffice it to say that I've salvaged my things - all of which are now dumped on my bed, sigh.

[the-muppet.livejournal.com]

Okay I also meant give away - can't do that either. Will not part with books under any circumstances. Strange really.

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Not strange; I know plenty of people who are the same. But I'm a great believer in passing on what I can't use any more. And I'm a greater believer of the library.

Which is not to say that I haven't keep hold of every book that I love, regardless of whether or not I'm going to read it again. It's just that I'm forced to be practical sometimes. It's not my own space.

[storyloves.livejournal.com]

I neeeed to buy more books. I ran out of books last week and I don't know what to do with myself now. Must. Read. I can't believe I went from never ever reading to finishing books in one day this summer. I love it, haha. I should probably get back into going to the library or I'm going to end up broke. That'll be weird - I haven't set foot inside our library for about five years.

Ugh, why must mothers do that? It irks me no end. I always end up hanging around her, scooping up the stuff I want out of the black bag before it goes into the bin, to shouts of "You don't need it, put it back in the bag!"

[delgaserasca.livejournal.com]

Oh, oh, oh - the library. The library is your friend, I swear, especially the free inter-library loan system. (Well. It should be free for you.) It will open up so many other libraries to you. Smashing.

I don't know. My sister is still scrambling around down there, so who knows?