Presto Chango

And now, an excerpt for you the Reader on this wild, stay-home Saturday night from one of my favorite books unearthed at long last from Box Mountain in the basement. This piece of writing caught my eye while thumbing through Miriam Toews' latest literary work of wonder: All My Puny Sorrows. What a wizard she is, a real Queen of Transmogrification. I should be knee deep in my studies at present, but I simply cannot resist the lure of page after page of underlined genius. I like to read with a black ink pen in hand, at ready. My copy is heavily marked to say the least.

Below, a sliver of great wit taken from pages 317-318 of Miriam Toews' All My Puny Sorrows.

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           Remember the way mom used to swim beyond the wake and bob along to god knows where, the deep and choppy sea, until someone noticed and came to her rescue? What do words mean Elf? Everything or nothing? They can't just mean something. By the way, I finally checked out your beloved D. H. Lawrence. Remember when you expressed incredulity at my not having read Lady Chatterley's Lover? God, you're a snob sometimes. Well, I read it. And yeah, the sex was hot. I'd find time in my busy schedule of needlepoint and flower arranging to visit that guy in the woods too. I wonder if Frieda wrote those parts for D. H. and then just had to keep her mouth shut while he racked up the fame and lived in fancy hotels in France with hippie girls. Anyway, you're right about the first paragraph. I want someone to project it on the front of my house in giant letters made of light and shadows. And if they flickered a bit, that would be the best. And of course they'd disappear in the sunshine because everything does. And that would be perfect. 

           "Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen."

          And thanks for keeping all my secrets. Remember that midnight cavalcade I led through the wilderness to get to the boys' camp? You are now the official keeper of my secrets.

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