"It was some time before he continued, then I learnt all that the past three months had meant to him. It was a complex, chaotic confession, full of repetitions, a strange mixture of self-pity and bitter denunciation, I was amazed by the intensity of the inner drama which was making his life an impossibility. Pauline had awakened everything which he had believed was dead in him; Francesca had made him a stranger to himself, for under her influence he had become aware of passions and desires of which he had been ignorant, and of which he was afraid."

- I am Jonathan Scrivener, Claude Houghton

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING IDLE

Lately I've read/re-read this:

Steve Toltz - A Fraction of the Whole
George Orwell - 1984
Oscar Wilde - The Importance of Being Earnest

And probably some other things that are not on my mind for some reason and probably don't deserve any mention anyway.

I HAVE NOW ASSUMED TIME WILL PROVIDE AN EXPLANATION

"Yes. I feel that I am involved. I have never felt that with anyone else. There's a problem in his life. I do not know what it is but I feel the way in which he deals with it affects me. I've told no one that and - like anything that is really true - it sounds quite ridiculous when it is put into words. It may be all nonsense. He may be simply amusing himself with me."
"In one sense, then, you don't trust him at all."
(...) "I shan't be able to explain, but I'll try if you like."
"Try", I said with a smile.
"It seems to me that here and there are people who simply cannot be judged by accepted standards. Because they are what they are, they have temptations of a different order from other people. This is partly Jonathan's theory. Sometimes the more highly developed they are, the greater becomes the attraction of the abyss. The sins they commit are different in kind from the sins of others."
(...) And you think accepted standards are irrelevant where Scrivener is concerned?"
"I am certain of it," she said quietly.

- I am Jonathan Scrivener, Claude Houghton

WINDBLOWN WORLD

"Another thought that helps a writer as he works along - let him write his novel "the way he'd like to see a novel written." This helps a great deal freeing you from the fetters of self-doubt and the kind of self-mistrust that leads to over-revision, too much calculation, preoccupation with "what others would think." Look at your own work and say, "This is a novel after my own heart!" Because that's what it is anyway, and that's the point - it's worry that must be eliminated for the sake of individual force. In spite of all this insouciant advice, I myself advanced slowly today, but not poorly, working on the final draft of the chapter. I'm a little rusty. Oh and what a whole lot of bunk I could write this morning about my fear that I can't write. I'm ignorant and worst of all, I'm an idiot trying to achieve something I can't possibly do. It's in the will, in the heart! To hell with these rotten doubts. I defy them and spit on them. Merde!"

- Jack Kerouac

MARTIN & JASPER DEAN

"I shrugged. It was complicated. I didn't want the people-smugglers, those fucking ghouls, to double-cross Dad and throw his body into the water half an hour out to sea. But this was not just an altruistic outburst, it was a form of pre-emptive strike. I didn't want Dad's resentment haunting me from beyond the grave, or little waves of guilt lapping at my future serenity. But above all, it was to be a sentimental journey: if he was to die, either at sea or 'among his people' (whoever the fuck they were), I wanted to see it for myself, eyeball to vacant eyeball. My whole life I'd been pushed beyond rational limits by this man, and I was offended by the notion that I could be so implicated in his lifelong drama and not be present for the grand finale. He might have been his own worst enemy, but he was my worst enemy too, and I'd be damned if I was going to wait patiently by the riverbank, as in the Chinese proverb, for his corpse to float by. I wanted to see him die, and bury him and pat the earth with my bare hands.
I say this as a loving son."

- A fraction of the whole, Steve Toltz

A FRACTION OF THE WHOLE

So, I didn't read any of the books I borrowed except for the Bridget Jones one, which was funny. Just wasn't in the mood for them I guess. Instead I read a book called I wanna be your Joey Ramone by Stephanie Kuehnert. It was OK but basically screamed "I'VE STUDIED CREATIVE WRITING FOR FAR TOO LONG". But it was alright and anyway, I found out that one of her teachers happened to be no other than the great Irvine Welsh, in which case I probably also would've stayed for way too long. Anyhoo, finished that, read Men mest av allt vill jag hångla med nån by Linda Skugge which is such a great book and now I'm reading A fraction of the whole by Steve Toltz which is so. Fucking. Amazing.

THERE'S A PLACE FOR YOU AND A PLACE FOR ME, IT'S THE LOCAL PUBLIC LIBRARY

Instead of re-reading The secret history, I went to the library and borrowed some books.
So, this is what I will read (and re-read) this month:

April
Truman Capote - In cold blood
Truman Capote - Summer crossing
A.M. Homes - This book will save your life
Lionel Shriver - We need to talk about Kevin
Donna Tartt - The little friend
Eoin Colfer - Artemis Fowl and the lost colony
Helen Fielding - Bridget Jones: The edge of reason