Sex & the great diss of Dostoevsky
A week off Prozac and already I feel more like an animal. The return of lust is both liberation and prison. I see beauty everywhere, especially in women. Men too, in their way. Humans were made for consumption of each other, but rules and norms interfere and commitment is born. And though I know the hunger, I also know myself. I am not nomadic. I am uniform, predictable, satisfied in the simple structure of two. Freedom frightens me; structure steadies me.
I finished Despair. Ofcourse the narrator is unreliable (typical Nabokov). He lies for sport, builds his world out of fabrications and yet he collapses under the weight of his own reflection. The tale scorns Dostoevsky’s sacred melodrama and piety which I both liked and disliked.
A quote that tickled me: "There is, thank god, no mirrors in the room. No more than there is the God I am thanking. All is dark, all is dreadful, and I do not see any special reason for my lingering in the dark, vainly invented world. Not that I contemplate killing myself - it would be uneconomical -- as we find It almost in every country a person paid by the state to help a men lethally."
The shunning of God, the darkness and depression, yet the mockery of the ultimate morose sin, and finally, he humorously includes the world's capitalistic tendencies. I liked the book, I gave it 4 stars on goodreads.
I am now reading Austen's Persuasion, which took some trying to get into but as the love triangles formed like constellations, I got hooked. I am too easy a target for love stories, perhaps because they remind me that humans are always circling each other, never touching without consequence.
So I wait. For Baylor’s verdict on a four-year contract with academia. For my body’s verdict on the longer contract of motherhood. For the accidental sight of Despair in a used bookshop. My dreams are highly lucid and blur the edges. I confessed listening to Kesha on the elliptical to someone but I cannot for the life of my pinpoint if this was in real life or a dream.
My promised is undertaking a new job which he is ecstatic for in such a pronounced manner, I am second hand smoking the elation. After a week of snot dribbling sickness, my head aches still persist but are at a lower threshold, thankfully. I haven't the desire to say more - tata.
