Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Friday, December 21, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
(CDG-COK)
Et quand, avant d’eteindre ma bougie, je lus le passage que je transcris plus bas, mon absence de dispositions pour les lettres pressentie jadis du côté de Guermantes, confirmée durant ce séjour dont c’était le dernier soir –– ce soir des veilles de départ où l’engourdissement des habitudes qui vont finir cessant, on essaie de se juger –– me parut quelque chose de moins regrettable, comme si la littérature ne révélait pas de vérité profonde; et en même temps il me semblait triste que la littérature ne fût pas ce que j’avais cru. D’autre part, moins regrettable me paraissait l’état maladif qui allait me confiner dans un maison de santé, si les belles choses dont parlent les livres n’étaient pas plus belles que ce que j’avais vu. Mais par un contradiction bizarre, maintenant que ce livre en parlait j’avais envie de les voir. (MP, VII, Gallimard 18)
Friday, November 23, 2012
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
The sperm trees are in bloom:
why don't you just embrace that?
Colors keep stacking up
like dinner plates in the butler's pantry,
immaculate milk-glasses,
one on top of the other.
Stop calling it that.
It isn't a pantry.
We don't have a butler.
And then, Mr. Karp turns to you and says,
Ok Morales, what did you feel?
Which holiday? Whose patio?
I don't recognize that garden.
I don't ever remember standing there.
I have to close my eyes to see
how to write, how to keep it
disposable. If only I could borrow
your hand, remember how to trace
the English Channel. What year
was that taken? You look thin:
that must have been before we quit
everything, before we moved.
why don't you just embrace that?
Colors keep stacking up
like dinner plates in the butler's pantry,
immaculate milk-glasses,
one on top of the other.
Stop calling it that.
It isn't a pantry.
We don't have a butler.
And then, Mr. Karp turns to you and says,
Ok Morales, what did you feel?
Which holiday? Whose patio?
I don't recognize that garden.
I don't ever remember standing there.
I have to close my eyes to see
how to write, how to keep it
disposable. If only I could borrow
your hand, remember how to trace
the English Channel. What year
was that taken? You look thin:
that must have been before we quit
everything, before we moved.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
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