A blog with a list of books every critic should have in his/her library, and of course In Search of Lost Time is there. What I really love is the fox drawing.
I'm just about finished with a new reading of On the Road, and except for a few lyrical descriptions, I'm very disappointed. The phrase "running around like a chicken with its head cut off" comes to mind. Maybe I have grown old. Maybe I have grown up. The book now makes me sad. The energy consumes itself. Dean Moriarty has become extremely tedious.
How did this happen? Racing through the great American night no longer hath charms. The old doper in New Orleans is the only character I find sympatish.
Maybe too much time has passed. Time. Passed. Eeeek!