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The 17th already?  And only the second blog entry for the month.  Caramba.  What a lackadaisical blogger I am. It was easier to stay on top of this when I was driving truck.  Hunkered down in the sleeper cab, parked in some diesel- and urine-redolent truckstop, it was pretty easy to find the time to […]

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Once more, dear friends, once more they’re rattling Shakespeare’s bones. This just in from UPI:             British actors Derek Jacobi and Mark Rylance have renewed the debate on whether or not William Shakespeare was the true writer of his works. They have already received 300 signatures for their “declaration of reasonable doubt,” which was made […]

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Allowing your characters to ignore the law of gravity doesn’t always lead to postmodernism. Sometimes it just indicates sloppy writing. In the novel I’m currently reading, Journey to the End of the Night, which is by Louis-Ferdinand Celine and which came recommended by Jack Kerouac, I can’t figure out what it indicates. The book started […]

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Yes, again with the Kerouac. Thing is, I’ve just read the last of his books available in the county library that I haven’t already read. ‘Available’ is an interesting word, as Kerouac is one of those writers, like Hunter Thompson, whose work tends to get stolen. Anyway, I’ve been waiting for a while for this […]

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Well, I’ve been on the trail of more great literature to distract myself with, but unfortunately the trail has grown cold.  Well, I’ve been on the trail of more great literature to distract myself with, but fortunately the trail has grown cold. It’s all a matter of perspective. Literature is a matter of perspective, too, […]

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1949 seems to have been the crucial year.  I’m still reading Windblown World, and it has been fascinating to watch the development of Kerouac’s thinking and writing.  In ’49, in the midst of getting The Town and the City ready for publication, the writer whom we know as Jack Kerouac is emerging from his chrysalis.  […]

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Of all the distractions from writing, the most insistent one may be reading, which is also possibly the most useful.  After having spent some time now searching in vain for new greatness after the Under the Volcano revelation, I’ve decided to look up some of the Kerouac I haven’t read.  Fortunately, the library here doesn’t […]

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Having just read Lowry’s biography as well as his first wife’s memoir In the Volcano, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that the former ought to have been subtitled Portrait of the Artist as a Buffoon.  Lowry was without a doubt one of the silliest men ever to be turned loose on the world.  […]

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