a year ago (and a day)
horsemouth was visiting the hereford recycling centre with his dad. myk challenged him to write about it in the style of john fowles (here it is).
‘I have long learned to accept that the fiction that professionally always pleased me least persists in attracting a majority of my readers most. it is that day, that day itself, to which they wish to return. that day at the recycling centre, where people gathered together apart in their cars, the orange jacketed recycling technicians officiated at the rite, the one with social skills and language at the front gate, the others growing more and more hermetic and silent as we made our way round the recycling stations. of course the dreadful truth of this modern world, with its flocking crowds of tourists, is that there is no recycling, just endless product death, the reduction of working components to mere kipple, as if sorting them into different bins could redeem them..'
the first sentence is a direct lift (from fowles' introduction to a reissue of the magus).
the problem with using a diary as a daybook is that it can't then be read it must be plodded through at the rate of the days. take kafka in prague in 1914, max brod has given us nothing of his diaries for a few days and then this entry,
'I have been writing these past few days, may it continue. I can once more carry on a conversation with myself.'
monday 15th august 1870 it is napoleon fete day and the reverend kilvert is chatting with an old british soldier who fought in france (the newspapers are full of the war between the french and the prussians ably described by zola in the debacle that will lead to the paris commune). the old soldier says the following.
'he said he knew nothing of the germans, the french were more natural to him, and he wished them well. they were very kind to him, he said, when he was quartered with the allied army at a very small village near arras. he helped them to dig their fields, garden, cut wood or do anything that was wanted. in return they rewarded him by giving him their nice white bread, while the dark hard ration went to the pigs.'
napoleon I's fete day is in fact a celebration of his name day (the 15th august) designed to replace celebrating the storming of the bastille (on the 14th of july 1789). this was itself already over-written by the fête de la fédération a mass gathering held on 14 July 1790 designed to inaugurate an era that abolished absolutism and gave birth to a french constitutional monarchy.
todays animals and vegetables
a giant slug (that horsemouth cast down the banking) and a dead headless frog (ditto). his mum is up and as let the chickens out but has neglected to refill the bird feeder (horsemouth will do it in a bit). he has already been around and watered the tomatoes in the greenhouse and the flowers near the house and over at the garage. only one sunflower plant now survives. there are a number of 'free-range' tomato plants in the garden (distributed by nature) but he doubts if they will have enough sun and time to generate tomatoes (time will tell).
the carrots (that horsemouth should have thinned out) are coming up a decent size surprisingly, the spinach has bolted (but is ok for salad), the beetroot there is plenty of, the peas are on their way, between the humans and the birds the berries are long gone but the damsons etc. will be here soon, they are eating their way through the potatoes at a rate of knots.
horsemouth has reformatted his blog posts. he does hope the new style is acceptable. today more discussion about the dog (who is no better).
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