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It must have been a long time before men thought of giving a common name to the manifold objects of their senses, and of placing themselves in opposition to them.


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I've been reading Call it Sleep by Henry Roth for a little while now, and enjoying it. This is a book which I bought many years ago (either at Yesterday's Books in Modesto, CA, or at the used book store on Market St. in Potsdam, NY) meaning to read right away, and has been sitting balefully on my shelf ever since... I think a good essay topic would be the difference in experience between reading a book you have just acquired (and shades of such experience depending on the source -- bookstore, yard sale, second-hand shop, found...) versus a book that has been on your shelf for a long time pleading to be read. Lord knows I have enough of the latter sort to keep me occupied for a while.

As I was turning the pages in the middle of Part III, The Coal, I ran across a bookmark from some previous reader. It is a piece of tan paper about 2 1/2" square, on which has been scribbled, "He's having a nervous breakdown".

posted morning of March 22nd, 2005: Respond
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