Category Archives: LITERATURE

The narrative pace here is fairly boppin’ along, despite my own limited attention given the book.  There is, however, very little happening.  What we’ve been served is the narrator’s perceptions of his surroundings and his friends and lovers.  All of … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Let me begin by advising you to put down that slice of pizza before you read this.  I made the mistake of eating just that and while my ironclad stomach was fine, I found myself making some bleh lip movements … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Had to laugh when in my weblog reading this morning I found at Scott Esposito’s Conversational Reading today’s posting of a review of Elizabeth Landensen’s Dirt for Art’s Sake: Books on Trial from Madame Bovary to Lolita.  Curiosity had me … Continue reading → Continue reading →

There is a feeling to this novel, or perhaps just my reaction to the narrator, that nothing matters.  I get the impression that the narrator is what becomes the stereotypical starving artist, caring desperately for mankind and earth and caring … Continue reading → Continue reading →

I’m getting the feeling that I’m going to be hopping from book to weblog posting on this novel.  I love this: "To be sure," says Boris, with a twinkle in his eye, "but, in the wintertime he writes.  And he … Continue reading → Continue reading →

So in between the writing I’m trying to catch up on my reading and have once more picked up Miller’s novel and opened to this: It looks as though it were finished, my life at the Villa Borghese.  Well, I’ll … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Not Miller’s novel, certainly, but rather my own small allowance of reading time since I’ve been writing my fool head off the last two months.  And it’s not the colorful language and topic that has put me off–although it did … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Made the mistake of reading the Introduction (by Karl Shapiro) and Preface (by Anais Nin) or at least skimming through it before I realized what I was doing. I don’t like to read someone else’s notion of what a book … Continue reading → Continue reading →

What better selection for the cold winter holiday than Henry Miller’s hot Tropic of Cancer? What I’d really like to do is finish some of the other books I’ve had sitting around half-read and maybe I’ll set a January 1st … Continue reading → Continue reading →