08.11.2007

Ausgebucht

Während andere davon träumen, über Nacht im Kaufhaus eingeschlossen zu werden, wünsche ich mir, einmal genug Zeit in der Abteilung zu haben, wo Papierrecycling wirklich Sinn macht. Der Versuch, die Haupteinkaufsstrasse von Wellington zu erkunden, endete in einem mehrstündigen Aufenthalt in den Buchläden der Stadt. Und das waren die angelesenen Werke... Wer Autor und/oder Titel erkennt, bekommt die Goldene Buchecker verliehen.

Thursday January 1st
BANE HOLIDAY IN ENGLAND,
IRELAND, SCOTLAND AND WALES
These are my New Year's resolutions

Hey Dad, basically I’m just going to keep on keeping on with these mails - I’m no longer expecting you to reply, but I’m still hoping you will, if that makes sense.

The old man sits on the edge of the narrow bed, palms spread out of his knees, head down, staring at the floor.

It may be malaria.

I am a sick man. … I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. I believe my liver is diseased.

"Wishing to go where you don't belong is the condition of most people in the world" was the opening sentence of Trespassing.

It seems increasingly likely that I really will undertake the expedition that has been preoccupying my imagination now for some days.

She hurries from the house, wearing a coat too heavy for the
weather. It is 1941. Another war has begun.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

In the town there were two mutes, and they were always together.

The stranger came early in February one wintry day, through a biting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, over the down, walking as it seemed from Bramblehurst railway station and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand.

The Sun rose slowly, as if it wasn't sure it was worth the effort.

Auf dem Weg von einem Bookstore zum nächsten bekam ich das hier vor die Linse:



Die berühmte Hasenbiene



NZ-Parlament



Aaaarrrggghh... ungeordnete Buchstaben



Hafen



Kredithai











Gegen die Wand





Und das sind die Bücher, die seit Wochen in meiner Kraxe mit durch die Welt reisen, oder ihren Platz in Wellingtoner Buchläden aufgeben mussten, um der bisher mitgeschleppten Literatur Gesellschaft zu leisten:

I was born twice: first, as a baby girl on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960, and then again, as a teenage boy in an emergency room near Petosky, Michigan, in August of 1974.

My father had a small Estate in Nottinghamshire; I was the Third of five Sons.

It was in the summer of 1998 that my neighbor Coleman Silk—who, before retiring two years earlier, had been a classics professor at nearby Athena College for some twenty-odd years as well as serving for sixteen more as the dean of faculty—confided to me that, at the age of seventy-one, he was having an affair with a thirty-four-year-old cleaning woman who worked down at the college

I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up.

That was when I saw the Pendulum.

The doorbell rang. I looked at my alarm clock. It was 3.00am. I closed my eyes and pretended I hadn't heard it. It rang again. I put on a pair of jeans and answered the door. It was Jesus.

So now I am alone in the world, with no brother, neighbour or friend, nor any company left me but my own.