Yesterday was a trickling slow motion of a day. Got precious little done but sure took a long time doing it.
One thing I did get done was more reading in Fr Lt's Woman. I had forgotten the wonderful scene, not in the movie as explicitly, of Charles getting sick in the room of a prostitute after she tells him her name is Sarah. What an incredibly fine book. It's good to read a book like this because it reminds me of my limitations. Nothing wrong with knowing your limitations.
Two writer friends in Paris are starting their own POD press, and I'm going to help them with the design of their books, the technical stuff. Wild Ocean Press. Both Oregon writers. A worthy thing for me to do.
Looking forward to spending some time with Miranda tomorrow.
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Pinter's screenplay was a brilliant rethinking of a brilliant novel -- two related but distinct (and distinctive) works of art.
Fowles is amazing. I reread "The Ivory Tower" last summer; a wonderful philosophical mystery. And I've been thinking of rereading "Daniel Martin" soon. Fowles has passages in his novels that are utterly amazing -- stretches of writing that simply lift you to a higher plane. In a way he seems like an heir to Thomas Hardy. I'm very sorry I missed his talk at Portland Arts & Lectures a few seasons back. Now it's too late.
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