When I was five, Tía Quela and I had drawing dates. That’s what they were: dates. It only occurred to me now—twenty-six years later, sitting in a room full of art books she would have loved—that a less enchanting woman might have called those afternoons with a five-year old “babysitting”. She did not. They were[…]
(I’m fulfilling last year’s New Resolution, which was to read 2666. I’ve managed—consciously—to insulate myself pretty thoroughly from any critical commentary on Bolaño, so I know nothing of what happens in the book. At this point, I’m on p. 384, halfway through the third part, and realizing that there’s no way to hold this entire beast in my head. I’m going back and taking notes on the parts I’ve underlined, just so I have a point of reference when I try to make sense of things later. Doing it, too, because other friends are reading it concurrently, so I figured it might be useful to make some of the thinking (or flailing) visible.
That’s a long way of saying that no one should actually read this–it’s just quotes, with very slight noticings on my part, as I try to lay down breadcrumbs for later. But I’m posting it here in case anyone else is navigating similar waters and feels like rowing in company. I could use some other points of view.
As of right now, my notes only cover the first part up through p. 165, halfway through Amalfitano’s major speech.)