I've circled around these little problems all my life. But sitting out in the backyard, reading a tanned paperback of an old Eric Ambler novel (ca. 1937: Background to Danger), it occurred to me once again, that I've never changed, I've always been a slightly effete bookworm, a reader, not a doer, while my whole family is predicated on doing, doing, doing, and this is, in fact, the secret of a mens sano corpore whatever.
Hamlet & A La Recherche du Temps Perdu (did I get that right?) & Don Quixote - perhaps the greatest literary works of all. & what are they about? Sickly writer types, who "lose the name of action". Frustrated dreamers.
Dynamic symmetry, golden section... the new spring growth of Nature... applies to this narcissism-mirror-problem too.
Mim-mim-mim-Mom & Sis-mimesis. the ultimate st-st-stutter.
5.07.2004
Labels:
Ambler,
bookworm,
psyche,
self-reflexive
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment