Tuesday, December 30, 2014


Flying back across the middle-western lands last night I finished both Leaving Atocha Station and Roseanne Cash's Composed. Then looked out the window as the light pockets of cities grew denser and we descended..

I've cooled a bit on Ben Lerner, though the end of Atocha still resonated.. There's something both compelling and off-putting about his micro-observations and interior narration. On one hand it's incredibly acute and picks up on pieces of experience that are so rarely articulated, but at times it gets claustrophobic and limited and self-referential / self-aware to the point of stagnation.

Similar thoughts on Composed. It's fragmented and despite touching on incredibly powerful experiences (her brain surgery, her relationship with her parents), skims the surface. Everyone she mentions is a "good friend" or "great influence" or "love of her life" - and the slices she presents never really go that deep. Lots of discussion of who the various session musician were on each record. She's clearly in awe of her father - but you don't learn anything about him, really. And the language was stilted and oddly distant.

Back in the office today, leaning towards seeing Wild tonight at E Street after work.. Perhaps I should also read the book. I read "Into the Wild" last spring and there seems to be some sort of thread..

Now onto Crossing to Safety..

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