So far- a book to be savored, lingered over, wondered about all thoughout the day.
Also lately- just discovered Sherman Alexie, read his short story "War Dances;" how had I overlooked him for so long? He's coming to Wordstock this year, surely a not to be missed experience.
Emilie and I read a Troy Jollimore poem aloud to one another over and over. He's a poet from Chico by whom we were childishly and nerdily star-struck; he would pore through the poetry shelves of the bookstore and I would sigh and stare, and she would sell him iced tea in the cafe next door. He was unfailingly polite. She left a copy of the Times on the table with a note today with exclamation points and underlines from her ballpoint pen; there's a book review of a new fictional account by Nicholson Baker about a poet trying and mostly failing to write about poetry. The article celebrates the fact that the book name-drops Troy Jollimore. The meta-ness and the way it hits close to home, both literally and figuratively, makes me giddy.
Spent a day in bed reading William Styron's Darkness Visible- the most harrowing, elegant, concise examination of melancholy I've yet to encounter, and by far the most comforting. I wanted to start it over again the minute I was through it, but instead forced myself to uncurl and go for a long walk filled with Gary Shteyngart reading a rich, lucid story by Andrea Lee. I can't seem to let narrative go for long.