Wednesday, November 10, 2004

I read a book review today (part of my job, how cool is that?) by David Foster Wallace in the recent New York Times Sunday book section. Wallace by himself is a writer whose use of words can sometimes cause you to put the piece of writing down, rub your eyes and think, "God, what a genius." He's the kind of writer that can make you doubt the existence of yourself and the world.

The book he was reviewing was a biography of Jorge Borges. I've never read Borges but Wallace's brilliant and challenging negative review of the biography (fiction used as an explanation of an author's state of mind. I had to agree, I don't buy that either) caused me to grab a collection of short stories off of the shelf and read one mentioned in the review. The story is called "The Immortal" and it's an amazing work of literature and it's a brain twister.

You have to wonder at a marvelous piece of literature that has the premise that everthing has been done before and will be done again and again and again... I have to imagine he would agree with the statement by Charles Bukowski who stated a poem doesn't have to have big words or mystical aspirations; it just has to say something in a way that is unique. Like George Carlin does when he stands on stage and puts nonsensical phrases together while claiming gleefully that no one has ever said those phrases ever in the history of the world. So in that sense I say: Hubristic Child Sharpener.

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