D.H. Lawrence, Women in Love
Ferdinando Scianna. Jorge Luis Borges, Palermo. 1984
What we become depends on what we read after all of the professors have finished with us. The greatest university of all is a collection of books.
Focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale, try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms – you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book – you don’t have time to even scream.
What I Read: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
My Oscar Wilde rampage continues.
“I don’t like to see all my energies, all of my youth, wasted in fur coats and radios and slipcovers.”