 |
 |
Name: Keough, Michael Philip, one 'l', he must have said many a time, this previous borrower of the book I am reading, Living, Thinking, Looking, a series of essays by Siri Hustvedt, wife of novelist and poet Paul Auster. So how, I wonder, did you find Siri, Michael Philip? Not how did you come by her but how satisfied were you with what Siri offered by way of words? Your borrowing slip from Goldfields Library in Bendigo slipped from page 98, nearly halfway through an examination of the difference between memoir and fiction. Am I to assume this is where you gave Siri short shrift? If so, you did better than I did because by this point I was skimming. Not scanning you understand, not seeking particular information, just eye-raking, hoping to be arrested. 'Memory is flux', mmm. 'Fictions are remembered too'. The whereabouts of storage is moot. Are poems reclaimed memories resorted? Perhaps the next borrower will better justify their slip than you or me, Michael. bw