My Wallace knowledge is not great enough to sopeak with anything other than
total bluff, but still, neither was my take on Auden that secure, until i
went to a public lecture at Trinity College Dublin and heard the head of the
English dept, ollamh Matherson, deliver one on him and even though i had
read a fair amount on this Eliot reversed titan, it was only on hearing
someone with a clearer bluff on him, that i learned something i could not
have done by reading alone.
Anyway, i was wondering if anyone could play a game with me, as in just
start talking of Wallace and see what happens.
This may sound a bit wanky (please forgive the profane) and first day in
class being controlled by a higher mind supping tea, facilitating a Group
experience of shared (public) literature; but i don't mind, as the above
idiotic riff (if it appears) proves.
In fact, i am not even that interested in Wallace now, just one person
joining in and writing off the top of their heads, without editing, sheer
practice in the profoundest and most simple form.
The Live aspect of literature is a current bluff in the business of dying on
my arse, trying to slip as Wilde before his slip ascertained we do, in
exquisite failure..
or at least summat like that, i was reading it last night in the latest buys
from Temple bar book-stall. Goodbye to All That, and a Yeats Memoirs and the
Journal he wrote for posthumous publication, due to the highly personal
nature of his own unique rant through the mask to the Unity of Being, back
to the utility of his youth.
in fact,
Lonely paranoid addict failing to get clean, 24/7 pornotube user fooling
none but myself, broken humorist with booze bust memory, will swap a muse on
Yeats for one on WS..
thank you very much..
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