For the time being, it is imperative that I stop entertaining “a certain pre-Raphaelite aestheticism that worships the medieval concept of beauty as a reflection of the Hellenic ideal of the young male form,” it being what it is and I lacking time and effort to rework my style as Alfred Mansfield, preeminent pulp writer.
Health: My throat has been afflicted. I cannot sing or talk as I used to. Step to take: cut back on the cigarettes.
Writing: I’ve christened the third volume after Little Nancy. I see no mistake in such a choice. My notebooks and this journal itself are but romans à clef. There is enough conjecture as to whether Nancy was a virgin suicide, a closeted communist, lacking in will or truly a man, only the last of which is undoubtedly true.
Expectations, Short-term:
Pass finals, raise my grades.
Acquire a trilby and/or a boater.
Decide whether to app Borges, or not. Sade would be too much for me.
Great* Expectations, Long-term:
Get into a British exchange programme. If UCL’s not on the list by then, I’m off to Kent.
Meet with a certain expatriate, if prospect n. one goes well.
Finish the novel.
Become politically active.
Ultimately, work under the radar.
* ‘Great’ being synonymous with ‘unrealistic’.
No comments:
Post a Comment