That's one of the laughs, all right.
But I'm speechless, stunned, bewildered, intrigued,
filled, even, with an eerie foreboding that you find
it all a little 'slow' until we reach those devotions
in Pamplona.
Slow? Slow? OF COURSE it's slow. That's the whole point.
You lay the words in as carefully & judiciously as you would
lay the stones for a ford in a stream of clear water coming down
from the mountains. And you fetch them out the same way.
Didn't you fancy the lights shining through the new leaves
on the chestnuts along Montparnasse? Or Cohn's girlfriend,
Frances? Or the 'pleasant early morning feeling of a hot day'?
Or ...?
Now that you've introduced the bearded old psychopath
I don't see how we're ever going to dawdle back to pale Nazarene
who serves as a pretext for this listserv. I don't see how I am,
anway.
Scottie B.
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Received on Sat Feb 8 07:49:34 2003
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