July in London
I’ve been accused of liking quotidian novels — the accusation being, I think, that nothing happens in them. It’s fair. My favourite books are usually long, observational, almost anthropological studies of people performing their everyday lives, playing out the interior and interpersonal dialogues of the characters.
At dinner last night, the couple next to me were celebrating his birthday. I wasn’t trying to listen, I was trying to finish my book, but I noticed when they stopped talking, and he took a deep breath and asked her who her favourite pharaoh was. She took a moment to think about it. She was not, evidently, surprised by the question.
The book was Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. A little bit science fiction, hopeful, and dystopian. He has a way of describing how people connect to each other and the intimacy that happens between them. The story follows Klara, a solar-powered Artificial Friend, as she learns how to be a caretaker and a friend.
“But then suppose you stepped into one of those rooms”, he said, “and discovered another room within it. And inside that room, another room still. Rooms within rooms within rooms. Isn’t that how it might be, trying to learn Josie’s heart? No matter how long you wandered through those rooms, wouldn’t there always be others you’d not yet entered?”
I started Transcription by Ben Lerner, on the recommendation of a friend in New York. A short novel about a writer preparing to conduct the final interview with his mentor, losing his phone on the way there and arriving with no way to record the conversation.
A group of us are halfway through this year’s Summer Series. In the last common room we talked about what each of us had given our undivided attention this week. One person mentioned editing a screenplay without distractions, and another described being on her phone calls without replying to emails or doing anything to occupy the time spent listening. I was struck by the modesty of these small adjustments and the value of their returns.
I know we’ve moved into later summer because I’ve been crossing to the shaded side of the street and Paris has started its long exhale to end the season. I’ll be taking two weeks off at the end of the month to participate in les vacances. I’m going to alternate between my apartment and the park, using the time to move through my end of summer reading list. I’ve been meditating most mornings, on the rug with the window open, but being away from home has broken the ritual. I’ll tend to it when I’m back.
Chat soon,
Ty
Teaching schedule for summer —
Monday 6pm (CET) — Online, The Studio
Tuesday 5pm (CET) — Online, Sky Ting
Wednesday 6pm (CET) — Online, The Studio
The Autumn Series will be in October, and registration will open in the coming weeks. I will be out of office from August 17th - 31st.