Beep
The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by frost. — J.R.R. Tolkien (1892-1973).
I found the above quotation while searching for synonyms for wither (as in the state of recent posts on this site—I’m not inclined to apologize though, since there are plenty of other blogs to tread in this sea of bits). I’ve been feeling the need for a news fast, since there seem to be innumerable clarions of the apocalypse perched on every corner, hawking their doomsday scenarios; social, political, economic, and on and on.
I finished the last of Raymond Chandler’s novels and have now read all of his fiction in the order they were written (at least that he wanted still read). His work seems livelier in the middle of his career. Maybe all those goons from ‘these dirty streets’ finally got to him. In searching my shelves for something ‘lighter’ to read, I found some early Steve Erickson novels (the polar opposite of lighter, as it happens), which I hadn’t thought about in years. Reading the cover blurbs made me realize I’ve read a lot of surrealist/magical realist authors, e.g. Jorge Luis Borges, Philip K. Dick, Thomas Pynchon, Richard Powers, Jonathan Lethem, William Gibson, Rick Moody, Paul Auster, Tom Robbins, Kathy Acker, Kelly Link, China Mieville, Shelley Jackson, Italo Calvino. Who’s next?
I was also going through some backup CDRs of my old music tracks and recalling what I was reading at the time, based on their titles and moods. I’ve written it before, but it’s interesting how music can be interlaced with literature. I’ve never posted any of these tracks, in part because they’re my juvenilia, my Girly Sound. FWIW, some of the CDRs won’t read any more (cheap media and labels), so I may remaster them from the old 2- and 4-track cassette tapes. Someday.
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