Subject: Re: kerrection
From: Paul Kennedy (kennedyp@toronto.cbc.ca)
Date: Fri Apr 07 2000 - 15:22:15 EDT
*reaching for his Bullfinch to find what this makes of me:
>
> Scottie 1 Jason & Argonauts 0
>
....the Golden Fleeced?
Cheers,
Paul
PS--Jason, have I mentioned yet how much I've enjoyed your recent
posts--and, for that matter, those of other fresh voices in the
bananafishbowl? Welcome aboard! Doing battle with Scottie (as if you
hadn't noticed) is a bit of a hazing ritual around here. I've been told
they still shave the pubes of 'virgin' sailors who have not previously
crossed the equator, but you'll have to ask some of the other Argonauts (the
name, by the way, of Toronto's professional football team, but I'm not going
to open THAT door again....) about that.
OSR--A colleague recently confessed that he'd recently re-read TCitR, after
a lapse of something like 30 years, and was surprised to find how much of
the novel takes place in New York City. My friend was a preppie. His
selective memory had most of the novel set at Pencey Prep. (I--journalist
that I am--quizzed him further to determine that he'd penetrated beyond than
the first few chapters in his ancient, probably assigned earlier reading....
Negative. He'd originally read it all, but remembered most of it being set
at "a prep school that was exactly like [my] prep school".... Reading is an
intensely personal form of communication. How vivid are our memories of
settings where we first read certain books? Catcher on the Blue Rug in my
bedroom at my parents' house.... (free associating now, in case Dr. B is
listening) ....The Painted Bird on a beach near Havana.... Nietzsche in the
childhood public library--one of the many built by Andrew Carnegie--where
I'd also discovered Winnie the Pooh, Lambs Tales from Shakespeare, Literary
Travel Writing, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Callaghan (read him you non-Canadian
PAPAgroupies, and weep!), and a book about PKU--I was pretending to do a
Science Fair project--that scientifically displayed photos of full-frontal
nudity: both genders!.... Tolstoy in St. Andrews.... Lorca in Granada....
Graham Greene in airplanes flying all over the world.... Thoreau at Otter
Lake (probably too personal a reference, but one that some bananafish will
understand).... Dostoyevsky in St. Petersburg (VERY SCAREY!).... Hunter S.
Thompson in Aspen (TOO close to home!).... Most much-loved authors--for
obvious reasons--VERY close to home, MY home, but in places only the closest
personal friends could understand: The hammock on the porch.... My freshman
room at the dorm.... Our apartment in Barcelona.... The Queen St.
Streetcar.... Universes created by ALL of the above books intersecting with
my own universe at very precise times and places--all of which I remember.
But no one else can ever share these memories, which is why Reading is such
an intensely personal form of communication. (And probably also why so many
people feel they "own" Jerry.... Which is more than likely why the jerk's
so paranoid....)
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