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I just have a feeling about halfway through this thing other books will begin to look very appealing.
I can understand why this might be.
But, BG, you're taking one for the team here! If you're having problems with getting into Mailer's headspace, why is this? Because you haven't beaten your wife half to death, or become 'addicted' to 'pot', or because you haven't published enough stuff about boxing?
Being careful, I think you should do all three. While it might seem like a bit of an agenda, how else can you possibly comment on Mailer's genius?
Although, if 'Ancient Evenings' is getting you down, just throw the f***ing thing in the bin. Mailer's work, god rest it's soul, is Hemmingway with at least sometimes interestingly grotesque pretensions. But that's about your lot.
Consider Mailer as an embarassing bloodstain on your t-shirt - we've all had them, no judgement here. But he's not someone to be taken seriously. He got into a fight with Martin Amis, apparently, at a launch. Amis might say otherwise, but how could anyone in their right mind try to fill in a ... well Amis is quite short. Mailer, in other words, as a bullying, aggressive drunk, who put what he must have perceived as a garden gnome into the facilities.
There's something to be said for the wild man of American lettters; I still believe in it, the green light at the end of the harbour, etc, myself. But Mailer, in conclusion must have only seen it blankly, through a self-inflicted red mist. |
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