Finding your life in a book
I was just reading one of Archie’s latest posts, on the book Cloudstreet, by Tim Winton.
I’ve never heard of it…and Archie’s review makes the book sound interesting, but what was most interesting to me was his personal identification with it. It’s about his childhood home, and essentially about his life.
I heard about “Cloudstreet” when it was first released. I chose not to read it because what interest could there be in the streets I knew, in the people I knew? I finally decided to read it. It was a task done slowly as I relived so much of my own life.
I too, would hesitate to read something that potentially reflected so much of my life. What if it brought up bad memories? What if the writer hadn’t seen what I saw? What if…?
The closest to this I have ever come is reading Tom Robbins’ book Skinny Legs and All on a beach on the Sunshine Coast of BC. I was spinning with the carnival that summer, and when I got to the description of Randolf “Boomer” Petway, I almost threw the book in the drink…it was Willie the Welder, the man I was currently involved with:
Randolf “Boomer” Petway was a welder by trade. He was seven years older than Ellen Cherry Charles. He was husky, dark, and, in a broad-faced, silly-grinned, thuggish sort of way, handsome. He drank a lot, guffawed a lot, and walked with a moderate limp, a piece of equipment having crushed his anklebone in the welding shop. In spite of the lameness, he boogied to country-rock more flamboyantly than any man in east-central Virginia. Some dance critic, who worked behind the bar in a honky-tonk, said that when Boomer danced he looked like a monkey on roller skates juggling razor bladse in a hurricane.
“He’s a complete idiot,” reported Ellen Cherry to Patsy, “but I have to admit he’s a hill of fun.”
The sex was similar too. :p
Anyone else out there find their lives in a book?
Digital Rare Books
Wow. A quiet little email from my favourite cousin this morning has sent me over into a bookish heaven.
I’m actually not going to say anything about it right yet. First, I want you to go check it out: this listing of rare book titles, brought to you by Octavo Digital Rare Books.
Go. I’ll wait.
……
Terribly cool, wasn’t it? An early Old Richard’s Almanac? Or Songs of Innocence and Experience?
This is something I like about the digital age, books I’ll never get my grubby hooks into available for us to peruse at our leisure (and up close — don’t forget to try the zoom feature!). The British Library has a collection too — of beautifully illuminated manuscripts at Turning the Pages. (I blogged about that one a while ago.)
Tracing influences
It’s weird. Suddenly I’m busy in my life, and I don’t have as much time to read. Or, when I do read, I’m re-reading some calming bit of fluff for the umpteenth time, just to relax.
And, right now, I’m re-reading my Davies. Of course.
One thing I really love about his writing is his own erudition. He is unabashed about letting his own stuff into his writing.
And it’s inspiring. As a direct result of his writing, I have books on my shelf about saints, psychology, and art forgery, to name a few.
So, the question today: Whose writing inspired you this way?
I really want to know.
