Bookreview

Notes / Quotes Ch 1 What Writing Is & Does Then there is the other secret. There isn’t any symbolysm (sic). Ch 2 The Qualities of a Writer The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shockproof, shit detector. This is the writer’s radar and all great writers have had it. Good writing is true writing. Mice: What is the best early training for a writer? Y.C.: An unhappy childhood. Ch 4 What to Write About The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky enough to overhear or it may be the wreck of his whole damn life—and one is as good as the other. Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to be hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damn hurt use it—don’t cheat with it. Be as faithful to it as a scientist—but don’t think anything is of importance because it happens to you or anyone belonging to you. Love is also a good subject as you might be said to have discovered. Other major subjects are the money from which we get riches and poores. Also avarice. … Murder is a good one so get a swell murder into [your] next book and sit back. Ch 5 Advice to Writers All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know. Remember to get the weather into your god damned book—weather is very important. Ch 6 Working Habits Mice: Do you know what is going to happen when you write a story? Y.C.: Almost never. I start to make it up and have happen what would happen as it goes along. The minute I quit trying to write the rest of it is easy. Ch 7 Characters Keep them people, people, people, and don’t let them get to by symbols. Ch 13 The Writer’s Life …Had never had the real old melancholia before and am glad to have had it so I know what people go through. It makes me more tolerant of what happened to my father. But [Bernard Berenson] I think we should never be too pessimistic about what we know we have done well because we should have some reward and the only reward is that which is within ourselves… I write one page of masterpiece to ninety-one pages of shit. I try to put the shit in the wastebasket. All criticism is shit anyway. Nobody knows anything about it except yourself. Review A nice little book collecting notes on writing from Hemingway over his career and across his publications. It is probably foolhardy to read a book about a writer’s habit in search of your own habit, but it is at least interesting to compare and contrast. I thought a lot about Stephen King’s On Writing while reading this. King writes 10 pages or thereabouts a day. Hemingway might write 400 words according to this book. Neither is right nor wrong, it’s just the work of the writer. ...

Notes “What those ancient Greeks (who, after all, did have a bit of understanding of philosophy) assumed to be the task for an entire lifetime because expertise in doubting is not acquired in days or weeks; what was attained by the old, veteran combatant (==who had preserved the equilibrium of doubt through every seductive snare, fearlessly denying the certainty of the senses and of thought, uncompromisingly defying the anxiety of self-love and the flattering advances of sympathy==)—in our times, this is where everyone begins.” Abraham: “Lord in heave, I thank you; it is after all better that he believe me to be a monster than that he should lose faith in you.” What provokes such dedication to a thing so terrible? SK asks: what sin could be more frightful than this? “No one who was great in the world shall be forgotten, but everyone was great in his own way, and everyone in proportion to the greatness of what he loved.” “the power whose strength is weakness, great through the wisdom whose secret is foolishness, whose form is madness, great through the love that is hatred of oneself.” “The entire content of his life is contained in this love, and yet the situation is such that it would be impossible for this to become a reality, impossible for it to be translated from ideality to reality.” “Only inferior natures forget themselves and become something new.” “For only in infinite resignation do I become transparent to myself in my eternal validity, and only then can there be talk of grasping existence by virtue of faith.” “By virtue of the absurd…” ==“Thus, then, my intention in telling the story of Abraham is to extract from it, in the form of problems, the dialectical element it contains, so that we might see what an enormous paradox faith is, a paradox that is capable of turning a murder into a holy act that is well-pleasing to God, a paradox that restores Isaac to Abraham, which no thinking can master, because faith begins precisely at the point where thinking leaves off."== (end of the Preliminary in the Problemata). In Problema I, extended discussion of the sacrifice of a daughter for ’the good of the whole community’ and what a hero that makes the father, and even moreso the fiancé. Not heroic! What the fuck! In Problema I re: a peasant more or less and approaching the King’s chamber. See page 77 for full context. “On the contrary, he should find joy in observing every rule of decorum with happy and confident enthusiasm, which is precisely what will make him openhearted and cheerful.” Difficult to suppress the chortle I made at this. Get real. “It is far more difficult to receive than to give—that is, if one has had the courage to do without and has not proven a coward in the hour of need.” Review I picked this up because it is at one point referenced in God, Human, Animal, Machine, and then I also saw it referenced in Carl Roger’s On Becoming a Person, which I was thumbing through in the bookstore the other day. I picked this up with little knowledge of Kierkegaard beyond those two citations, other than a vague awareness of his status as a philosopher/theologian. ...

A friend gifted this book to me for my birthday last month. I’m glad they did, because I’d have missed it otherwise! I did not quite know what to expect going in, but it proved to be a lovely mix of memoir, history, and question-asking. Very me. I’m going to keep this constrained to just my experience reading the book. This has been one of my most notated books in recent memory and a lot of my notes are questions. I’m going to resurrect my dusty substack to meander through some of those. I’ll edit this review later with links to those posts. ...

This was an impulse buy. I read this several years ago at the height of my Francophile days when I was able to speak French about half as well as I could read it. Now I can read it okay and speak it only when drunk, and quite poorly. My mom told me a week or two ago that she wanted me to think about going to Paris again. This is something I have wanted to do for years but I have never traveled internationally and not much domestically. You read Baldwin and Hemingway and Hugo and the others and see Paris as this imperfectly perfect place. Somewhere that a lost person can go to figure things out. I am not convinced any such place really exists outside of the mind, but in the same breath I’ll say context matters. Anyway I’m filling out passport paperwork again and maybe I will save enough to go and cheaply. ...

I bought the Picador Modern Classics hardcover of this a week or two ago on a whim. I was trying to find gifts for family and ended up buying this for myself instead. I think this is my third read of the book? I read a lot of Isherwood aroundabouts 2013 when I was fresh out of high school and struggling with being gay. It didn’t really matter that the time period was all wrong, or that things were so different. A lot of things weren’t different, and it was more or less about reading books that showed relationships and love in a non-heterosexual way. ...

It’s finally done, I’ve read everything that Cormac ever published. What a year. I plan to write something about that elsewhere, but for now, Suttree. I think this is Cormac’s longest novel at nearly 500 pages. It is episodic in nature and the episodes are presented without a lot of scaffolding to let you know. Cormac provides you with the changing of the seasons and that is the major progressive force of the novel. There is little plot other than Suttree’s sort of underboiling search for self. I think you’d have to read it a few times to really mine it, and I think there is something there to mine. ...

Quotes Page 25 >White > There’s nothing to follow. It’s all right. The things that I loved were very frail. Very fragile. I didnt know that. I thought they were indestructible. They werent. Page 53 >Black >No. I didnt. I didnt know what I was. But I thought I was in charge. I never knowed what that burden weighed till I put it down. That might of been the sweetest thing of all. To just hand over the keys. ...

McCarthy’s third novel. The one I’ve enjoyed the least. It is very dark, about someone with a sad life who descends into depravity. I read in two sittings, last Sunday and today. It feels like McCarthy still finding his form. The story is more or less a character study, following Ballard throughout his life. It’s difficult to say why I leave so uninterested in Ballard. It it not an interesting thing to be sad and lonely. Maybe the things that happen to a person to render them this way can be interesting, but watching a person descend was not for me. Ballard is dealt a bad hand and makes no decision to help himself, or even to not hurt others. He demonstrates little care for anyone, and is cold and isolated to the point of being a figment of nature. ...

Review from 7/2024 In the opening chapters of Stoner, Archer Sloane asks a young William, “Don’t you know about yourself yet?” Stoner seems always to be pulled between the idea of what he wants and what he is willing to do. He thinks constantly about what would be burdensome to others. Throughout the book, his placidity verges on ambivalence — as if he is aloof to the living of his own life. Sloane tells him later that he must remember what he is, and what he has chosen to become. We follow Stoner’s becoming for the rest of his life. ...

When I was in high school, we lived in a little * apartment in rural Illinois. It was across the street, a short walk from the factory where my mom (and several relatives) worked. We were on the South side of the tracks - a small open field separated us from them. Trains no longer run through this track and haven’t for years, as far as I know. I used to walk over to the high school, only about a mile away, but rarely with sidewalks available. ...