there are parts of his melrose trilogy which i find too horrible to read, but i'm addicted nevertheless. i haven't stumbled across any other contemporary writer whose use of language seems so seductively right, especially when used to describe the intricate workings of the mind. funny too (an odd thing to say about books which are about, among other things, the aftermath of sexual abuse), not least when describing some of the most thrillingly unpleasant, bitchy and self-centred character you'll find in a novel.
This blog is in a state of suspended animation
shamefully i didn't know about the artist leonora carrington until she died. i subsequently read an article by sam leith in the guardian about how a friend had given him a copy of her novel the hearing trumpet many years ago and it had quickly become one of his favourite novels. i read it immediately and i think it may have become one of mine, too. it is quite quite bonkers without seeming at all random. whimsical, tough, fey, dark, camp, funny. it starts with an old lady going into a nursing home and ends with... well, read it and find out.
next monday, june 20th, 6:45, i'll be doing a 5x15 talk at the tabernacle, london w11, along with jon ronson, sarah bakewell, anthony sattin and lisa appignanesi. musical interlude by judith owen. i'll be talking about flying and swimming. different from last time. if you were wondering whether to come again. though, of course i will only be 16.6% of the entertainment.
i swam here at the weekend. it was glorious. and scrotumtighteningly cold. nice jellyfish, too. i was going to say where it is, but i like the fact that the picture could have been taken anywhere from scotland to hawaii to new zealand.
finishing a novel is like getting simultaneously sacked and promoted. this stuff has helped somewhat. the st aubyn cover is dire and wholly misleading, i'm reading the harrius potter very very very slowly and the yellow cd is sonic youth med mats gustafsson og merzbow. cum on feel the noize, as slade once sang.