New Rabbit

We got him a new friend. 

They touched noses. He tried to shag her. She knocked seven bells out of him. Grey fluff everywhere.

End of round one.

Ailz had had the foresight to buy a pen. So now they're in the same room but divided by a wire fence. He wants to get at her. She could care less. 

The hope is they'll bond over time. Right now this seems a little forlorn. 

She's a big brown lop and we've called her Tish.

 

Kinda cute, eh?

Ungentle Reader

Nightwood is hard going. It's a simple tale but she does sooo complicate it. 

Sure, it's atmospheric. And some of her turns of phrase have a startling beauty. 

But I'm getting old. I don't have the time and patience to re-read a sentence four times in order to squeeze the aphoristic juice out of it. 

Well, that's not entirely true. I do have the time and a modicum of patience but it makes me cranky to have to work so hard.

It's not as if she's saying anything really deep.

Bloody modernists!

This is where I could write an essay about how the modernist project was fuelled by snobbery and a disdain for the common reader- and how all of them were elitist and a good few of them were fascist- but I won't.

Listen to me, I'm getting to sound like a philistine. Damn.

Don't mind me, Djuna; I'm just a grouch. 

No need to see me out.  I'll leave by the tradesman's door.