I'm reading Patricia Highsmith's Ripley novels this summer, which I apparently keep refering to under the collective title The Incredible Mr. Ripley. It's wonderful to be swept away into this world of subtrafuge, in which a charming young man connives and lies his way into people's lives.
Also on my list this summer: Robinson Jeffers, Brad Watson, Stephen Elliott, Percival Everett, George Barker, Brenda Shaughnessy, Jonathan Swift. Odd assortment, I know. Just finished a Nathanael West novel and the manuscripts for Jim Ellidge's and Pimone Triplett's next books.
It's actually quite a good reading summer for me. Amazing how much free time one can have once one is divested of a relationship.
It was good to be in a relationship. It was bad to be in a relationship with someone who was an incredibly Ripleyesque creature. But wonderful to have something to write about. Have finished several new poems, including one called "Narcissus in St. Louis" and one called "Do the Hustle." Neither of which is particularly apropos of anything. When life is not poetry, it is fiction. Always sad to near the end of either, even if the subjects pain you.
OOOOH YEAH!!!
10 years ago
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Secret agent that I am, I found you online! Please keep in mind D.C. is a great place for espionage...and poetry readings.
ReplyDeleteOtherwise, Cambridge is lovely in November and I will try to be there!
"When life is not poetry, it is fiction." No fucking kidding.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad I have a way of keeping up with you without the hassle of sending an email, or getting coffee, or the guilt of not emailing or coffee-ing. (I suppose either wouldn't hurt, though.)
Lovely photo- sorry to hear the Haines era is over.
so glad to see you online. sending hugs your way.
ReplyDeleteHi Meg!
ReplyDeleteOne man's loss is somebody else's headache.
Coffee would be great!
Good to see someone else reading Robinson Jeffers. Always good to see that.
ReplyDelete