Still alive, still an asshole.

In case you were wondering.

Hmm. So, for Christmas, a generous somebody got me three-fifths of the Library of America’s Complete Stories of Henry James. Them are some handsome books: compact little hardcovers with cute patterned flyleaves, place-marking ribbons, and they have that slippery onionskin paper that signifies THIS IS A SERIOUS ENDEAVOR. Mommy likes!

Henry James is a writer I am not really fluent in. Probably I need to read more, which was the idea behind collecting all five of the above, but I sort of wonder if I’m ever going to get a handle on him, because that is some deep stuff, man. Ya know?

Today I thought I’d start with the Turn of the Screw. Been meaning to read it forever, and it’s a semi-major work, and it’s a ghost story about a governess trying to preserve the innocence of children (I think?), which is basically MY LIFE.

I read the first page. I thought, HUH! So it’s one of those stories with a frame around it! I got ready to turn the page. The bad thing, I thought, is that I haven’t already read this. Why haven’t I read this already? And why haven’t I read Portrait of a Lady. Or Washington Square. Or Wings of the Dove, which is a late novel and therefore will probably be confusing and have very long sentences. I’m fucked!

Then I thought, I wonder what’s new in Britney today.

And that was the end of that.

THEREIN, A SYNECDOCHE FOR WHY I GET SO LITTLE ACCOMPLISHED.

Sigh.

by Pistol Whip | 5 January 2008 | losers, reading | Comments