Southern Gothic Fever Dream IV

Category: dribblings

My pal, Carol, a fellow ‘brary goddess, (different ‘brary, but still.) and all-around amazing human, was actually the inspiration for me reading Absalom, Absalom! She once told me it was her favorite book. I wasn’t sure that I believed her. I mean, maybe it was ONE of her favorites, but THE favorite? Is that even possible? And after reading the book myself I know that yes, it IS a good book. (You will note, however, that even though it is a good book, I did not cut it any slack.) It’s a good book; and reading it was like wrestling a huge pile of eels made out of words. And when I finished reading it I felt like I had accomplished something… like maybe I had wrestled a pile of eels made of words and beat them.

And since finishing the book, since beating that pile of eels made of words, I have thought much about the book. Daily. It’s become a literature parasite. It’s in my head and won’t leave me alone. This isn’t a new thing for me. I have several literature parasites in my head, the three main ones are Beowulf, The Cask of Amontillado, and Suddenly, Last Summer. See, that’s two southern authors, and now my brain is being preyed upon by a third? Do you think there’s something about the south and it’s authors that makes for more literary parasites?

Anyway, Carol feels for Faulkner the way I feel for Capote. Actually, she probably feels more, cos y’see, she wrote a love letter.

Tags: , ,

No Comments