Mr. James > Recent Status Updates

If you push deeper still, to the bottom of the subconscious, there is a candescent light, completely filling an otherwise dark bedroom with sight. The bedroom is filled with decorations from festivals that span through time and cultures, across the globe and universe. We are left with contraries that merge in harmony: light yet dark, sublime yet mundane, ethereal yet sturdy, transient yet fixed. [...]

How to describe Proust? In a lot of ways he's indescribable, his passages are layered, each one clearly defining art, observation, and story. Each one "contains multitudes."* He returns to memories that recall deeper memories, which unlock exquisite insight and philosophies. The hidden shapes, colors, and structures are endless. [...]

Fatherhood by Thomas H. Cook. (Spoiler Alert: Light Plot Summary.) Rage fuels this story. A spiteful father is determined to destroy his son. The title "father" was given by means of deceit. The narrator was tricked into marriage. A woman embraced him beneath a tree; they were quickly wed, and within six months, she gave birth to their son. [...] (Continued in the comments: 9/28/24)

In a goodreads group I wrote: "I don't like to reread books..." There are just too many to explore, and I don't like trekking down old paths if I remember it well. In the case of Swann's Way, If I were asked if I'd read it, I'd reply, "Yes. Multiple times... On the first read." But I'm not complaining. [...] (Continued in the comments 9/27/24.)

Deaths of Distant Friends: The narrator recounts the death of three friends: One through leisurely golf outings, another with an ex-wife by his side, and lastly, the death of his broken down mongrel; all of which show the recurrence of loss throughout life. These deaths are not received with grief, however, but with... happiness.

I've already reread passages, multiple times, just to better understand a given moment or emotion. I'll say this: once the wet photo paper is hung in the darkroom, left to dry, allowing for proper development, thus exposing exquisite details, the time spent was worth the effort.

As expected, Proust's writing is beautiful; but this will be a slow read - also expected. The moment my mind drifts I'm lost, likened to Faulkner, even though Proust's language is more accessible.

The Hair: The full review is in the comments. Excerpt: "Two couples: one inferior ( I'll call - Z): the other superior (I'll call - A)."

It gets five stars for a few reasons: It's a unique spin on coming back to life; the minimalism is descriptive; nostalgia - Sartre is an old friend, it was an enjoyable visit; and finally, because... it deserves it. The full review will come.. eventually. Perhaps love only comes in... No that's not right," my thought wanders off, and a new one passes by, "there's nothing... No, that's not right either."

The Knife: My thoughts can't be restricted to 420 characters: please refer to the comments. Excerpt: "This story threw a curve. I prematurely started writing about it four pages before I finished it."

I must admit Jean, for a guy who doesn't believe in god, you write about the afterlife a lot. There are parallels between this and No Exit. Fun Facts: This is listed as a screenplay but it doesn't read like one; the title's literal translation is: The Plays are Down; and the English translation is no longer in print. I'm glad I grabbed this, years ago, when I was a book dealer's apprentice.

Neighbors: It's a story about loss; how we cope, or more readily, how we fail to cope. A man's dying mother drives him to seek out his sister who "abandoned" the family for love. His actions are driven by resentment, fear, and sorrow. Ultimately, you're left to wonder if his resentment is less about his sister leaving, and more to the wish he'd done it first.

Jean, you described a scene today that resembled a memory of mine; I mention this because I told my story, to an intriguing society, on the same day. It was regarding a beggar; it appears our shadows have overlapped. I disagree with the 'lowest of men' remark; yet the shadow remains. 'It's the living who interest me... for example, this old beggar. He's a poor old thing. The lowest of men. But he is alive.'

Safe by Gary A. Braunbeck: I can't contain my thoughts to a 420 character count. This is a complex story. My thoughts are in the comments. Excerpt: 'The mood cuts across your forearm and it hits bone. If you take away all emotion from an incident that readily demands it, you're left with nauseating psychological horror.'

I didn't expect a twist so soon. Readers should go into this book knowing little to nothing about it. Jean, I tip my hat, for implying existentialism so subtly, 'And the thought strikes her: I have no reflection. Lost in wonder, she takes another step forward. Nothing...'

The Princess: We have a delusional Princess, whose status and privilege conceal her true "self." (Our perceptions of ourselves are normally contrary to what others see; we create a fictional "me" to survive.) The fog metaphorically clears, and the Princess doesn't like the view. The mist grows thick again, returning her to a world where all is good, and all are happy.

The Heat: It has a very Of Mice & Men aura. It's snappy, with two narratives; both told in third person objective voice; I liken it to reported speech. One is about identical twin sisters: the other a teen boy. The narratives interchange between paragraphs. The relationship between the three is traumatic, which again brings me back to, "Guys like us have nothing to look forward to." - George, OM&M.

Jean-Paul, The Chips are Down is direct, minimal, and to the point. A stark contrast to the last book I read by you, Being and Nothingness, a mere 805 pages, written in esoteric language, which takes a lifetime to fully understand. I loved it, and so far, this one too.

Thank you Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson for letting me tag along. I'll visit again. Our adventure analysis will take some time. Writing projects are stacked to the ceiling; summertime laziness is the culprit. Mr. Holmes, your closing line was perfect.

Keller's Last Refuge by Mr. Block: I've been away from hardboiled plot driven stories for awhile; I lean into ambiguity. This collection will test my comfort zone; mysteries are notorious for elaborate plots. Students: Shed your comfort zone frequently, good writing demands it. Short stories quickly unlock various styles. Refuge was fun; even if the motives were a common mystery trope: give me the money honey.

The forward and introduction were interesting enough. I'll note, Otto Penzler (series editor) classifies Crime & Punishment as a mystery. For me, C&P is dark psychology: 152.4 Dewey Decimal classification. I've contracted a short story bug the last two years. The Best American Series satisfies my nostalgic hunger.

Dear Linguists: What is the Answer? I like Doyle's writing. But he alternates dialogue tags 'he said' and 'said he' more often than any other writer I've read. It goes beyond the "switching it up" theory. The internet is indifferent; I'm probably digging too deep. Maybe, at a given moment, Doyle wanted the affirmative tone of 'he said,' rather than the soft touch of 'said he.' It does, however, stunt pacing.

The Pipe: 'Back in my day.' It's likely you'll use this idiom someday; it's rather gratifying. It applies here, where a man's longing for an idealized past ruins the present, and will subsequently handicap another man's future. '... He still wanted to think of something which had not yet been touched by death.'

I'm ashamed to admit that this is my first Holmes novel. Friends would be shocked, as am I, that I started out of chronological order. This copy of Four was gifted to me and is packed with extras: A long and insightful introduction, a timeline charting Doyle's career, and endnotes that are informative and fun. I couldn't resist. Holmes has an infectious deadpan sense of humor, and... was a prize fighter!

A Constellation of Events: The prose is rendered in exquisite detail. The first part is a cross-country excursion with two couples and their children. Added to the entourage is a lover, and the possibility of an affair is hinted at. Each event is a brush stroke resembling the human heart. Now I understand why Updike is so beloved. The story represents powerful observations drenched in deceit.

Nairobi: We have a possessive man, Oliver, preparing a woman, Ginny, for a strange encounter. I say 'prepare' because she's objectified throughout: taken shopping, bought extravagant and expensive clothing, and decorated to Oliver's tastes, until he decides she's ready for the encounter. This meeting and its purpose is where the tension and mystery lie. Oates teases out morsels skillfully.

An interesting endnote. In the first book, Watson's war injury was in the shoulder. In this book the injury is in his leg. Come on Doyle; that's just sloppy. (The theory on the internet is that Watson was leaning over, treating a fallen soldier, when a bullet passed through his leg and shoulder. 'Yeah, why not,' I say, 'thinking Doyle could make a mistake is unconscionable.')

Typhus: I go to Chekhov when I crave details. Lieutenant Klimov travels to Moscow by train; his prejudices and agitation towards people and his environment is immediately felt. The cause of his intolerance stems from the suggestive story title. Disease and sickness alter one's nature. I've never had typhus; yet the story convinced me otherwise. It has an impactful and unexpected conclusion.

What I wouldn't give for a conversation with Mr. Holmes. We could obsess over details all day. 'But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave mental exaltation.' - Sherlock Holmes, The Sign of Four, Arthur Conan Doyle

That was delightful, illuminating, and hilarious. My full review will take some time; I'm including my own version of the gods, and I want to dig deeper into Salman Rushdie's history. It's fascinating.