i'm sure you know, as you've been watching me from your spot next to tr, that i have been struggling with your work for the past few days. i think i counted about three sentences over the course of 36 pages. plus, for whatever reason, you decided that molly doesn't like apostrophes, bringing to my attention the immense difference between "we're" and "were" or "we'll" and "well."
i suppose it's lucky for me that i'm a woman and that you somehow managed to tap into the complicated thought patterns we have, so at least i could keep up. a bit.
what i'm really trying to say is that i thought you had actually gone crazy while writing this. it was interesting, sure, but i really didn't care all too much about molly's various sexual escapades, her wish to be a man so she could appreciate her own breasts, her thoughts of her husband eating her out or ejaculating all over her body, etc. i mean, it was fun, but i found myself questioning why on earth i needed to know all this.
but, of course, in your way, you made it work. after a rather surprising section about her husband sticking his tongue in her asshole and her wish to say smutty things and actually thinking the word "fuck" a few times (i can see why the conservative public had such a hard time with your writing back in the 20s), you made it beautiful. just as i thought there was no way for this horny chapter to end on anything other than a note on sex, you evoked the wonderful elation every woman feels when they are told they are beautiful by the man (or woman) they love; the psychotic beating of the heart all people experience when they risk their entire souls for the possibility of finding safety in someone's arms; of first kisses with men you desperately wish were the first to kiss you; of those anxious moments just before 'i love you's are murmured; of the secret ecstasy of hysteria people go through when they have found the one who asks to be theirs and there is nothing left to do but let your heart beat like mad and succumb to the overwhelming dizziness and believe that you are as beautiful as a mountain flower and try to figure out a way to say what you mean without completely losing your mind and you peppered her thoughts with 'yes'es so all we're left with in those two sentences is one large resounding capitalized Yes.
how you manage to write so that my heartbeat followed molly's as she recalled bloom's proposal is beyond me. how you made me care in less than half a page is even more astounding. i'm not surprised that your articulation of one of the most beautiful feelings in life made me want to cry.
so thanks, i guess. i'll be re-visiting this soon enough, i'm sure.
for now, i'd really like to read a trashy novel to get some of my sanity back. probably the opposite of what you'd like, but i'm sure you'll understand.
keep doing what you're doing. writing books and looking out for me, i mean.
love,
me.
No comments:
Post a Comment