Post-Mortification
Today brought an unexpected delight. Although I began my day feeling very poorly, enough so that I had to give up on a concert I had hoped to attend this afternoon, I managed to find my around to feeling much better. After a day of errands and once some evening plans fell through, I picked up a book I had been reading for a few minutes of escape.
I managed to return to reality after finishing the book nearly 5 hours later. W. Somerset Maugham's The Razor's Edge ate an entire late afternoon and evening. Right on...It's been years since I've done that. I'd forgotten what it feels like to be pulled into something that fully for that length of time. I enjoy movies partly because of that same feeling, but they tend to be much shorter. With this Maugham novel, though, there's that escape mingled with well-crafted art.
Yes, yes....I know that Maugham didn't even honestly consider himself a great novelist. There's some quote about him saying that he placed himself solidly in the first row of the second-rate novelists. Frankly, though, this novel had some wonderful turns of phrase, interesting moral quandries, and a number of fantastically realized characters. In fact, most of the women in this particular tale had devilish and destructive shortcomings combined with unavoidable charm.
Where's the music in today's post? Hell...Er...I practiced for a couple of hours...without AC...and without much getting done. Too bloody hot...
Now that I expect to have the day free tomorrow, perhaps I need to read a different book. I think perhaps I need another novel. That Bill Clinton biography just isn't calling my name yet.
Or...I've stumbled upon an old edition of Ovid's Metamorphoses...A little light reading, anyone?
I managed to return to reality after finishing the book nearly 5 hours later. W. Somerset Maugham's The Razor's Edge ate an entire late afternoon and evening. Right on...It's been years since I've done that. I'd forgotten what it feels like to be pulled into something that fully for that length of time. I enjoy movies partly because of that same feeling, but they tend to be much shorter. With this Maugham novel, though, there's that escape mingled with well-crafted art.
Yes, yes....I know that Maugham didn't even honestly consider himself a great novelist. There's some quote about him saying that he placed himself solidly in the first row of the second-rate novelists. Frankly, though, this novel had some wonderful turns of phrase, interesting moral quandries, and a number of fantastically realized characters. In fact, most of the women in this particular tale had devilish and destructive shortcomings combined with unavoidable charm.
Where's the music in today's post? Hell...Er...I practiced for a couple of hours...without AC...and without much getting done. Too bloody hot...
Now that I expect to have the day free tomorrow, perhaps I need to read a different book. I think perhaps I need another novel. That Bill Clinton biography just isn't calling my name yet.
Or...I've stumbled upon an old edition of Ovid's Metamorphoses...A little light reading, anyone?
posted by Christopher at 11:43 PM
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