December has not been blog-friendly to me. The year
began with hospitals and has now ended with them. 2009 should offer time for more than linking, perhaps even more book reviews. In the first few months, I'm looking forward to reissues of Peter Handke's early novels (the
Slow Homecoming trilogy and
Short Letter, Long Farewell), to the heroic translations of Jonathan Littell's
The Kindly Ones and Jacques Roubaud's
The Loop (part two of
The Great Fire of London sequence) and ...
and ... to volume one of
The Letters of Samuel Beckett.
Such happy wonder leads me back to
Fall Day, the first of
Robert Kelly's three poems in Conjunctions' Winter 2009 Poetry Festival.
This is the meaning of childhood:
you do not exist. The Count of Monte Cristo
is waiting to become you
he has a sword he has a girl at either elbow
offering him green wine and hashish paste.
You have read about the world now here it is.
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