Two things:
One, I'm reading the best book I've read in nearly forever, John Weir's [What I Did Wrong].
This is one of those books that's so good I want to go out and buy sixteen copies so I can give one to every one I know. I may yet. It's too short -- a bit under 300 pages -- and I find myself reading it as slowly as possible, not wanting it to end, that sort of book. I also keep flipping to the end to read the blurb, saying to myself, who is this guy? Why have I never heard of him? Why isn't he famous? Why is there no John Weir parade? No John Weir Chair at Yale? No John Weir Holiday every year? John Weir Wing at the library? Good shit, this is like the best book I've read in my life, this can't be the first thing he's written?
And it isn't, he wrote one -- one!-- other book back in the 80's, but that's it. It's killing me. Once I've read that I'll be done. Argh!
It's such a good book. Nearly every page is arresting. I don't want to give away anything -- not that it's heavily plot-driven, cause it isn't, it's not that sort of book -- but an example, a for instance, there's this bit where the main character is remembering his best friend from high school teaching him to shoot baskets, and that's it, that's all, nothing else is happening, it's a page and a half, maybe, but the writing just knocks you over.
And then! Weir goes off, now and then? Into these flights of language? Oh, he kills me. It's great.
I don't even like that sort of thing. I'm into plot! But this is just such a good book. Go! Find it! Read it! Or I'll find you and you'll be sorry!
Wait -- I forgot the other thing.
I learned a new word.
Deontology: the theory and study of moral obligations.
In't that a great word?
Nothing to do with John Weir. Just the other really excellent thing happening in my life just now. I like good words.
1 hour ago
7 comments:
I totally got drunk with your new favorite author a few months ago. Haven't read his book. Perhaps I shall!
Crap, did you? Now I am so jealous! I was already jealous that you got to live in NY and I didn't but now I'm so jealous I swear I'm fucking stalking you!
At the time I knew he was a writer, but not The Greatest Writer of All Time, or even Delagar's Favorite Writer of All Time. I shall pay more attention to these things in the future and try not to make such an ass of myself in front of people I don't know.
Sigh, not published in my Country. Perhaps it will be.
Dear Delagar,
It's me John Weir, the guy who wrote *What I Did Wrong* and has no parade in his name, thank god. It's Sunday morning, there's a jackhammer drilling into the street in front of my apartment, I smoked too many cigarettes last night and have a nicotine hangover, and so your blog posting about my book was my first good news today. (Maybe all week? It's been a very hot and dreary week in NYC. . . ) Thanks for saying such over-the-top nice things about my writing! And don't resist the urge to buy 16 copies of the book! I'm broke. And who's White Bear? When was I drunk recently? I don't actually drink all that much. I eat a lot of pizza and drink a lot of Coke and smoke too many cigarettes and I wish Oprah would choose my book so I could get rich and go into rehab, the kind of rehab where they get you off junk food and Marlboro Lights. I'm babbling. Thanks for the swell blurb, is all. Hope you don't get hurricanes in Arkansas. John Weir.
Well, cool! I'm making everyone here in AR read your book. And buying it for all my relatives who read (both of them, heh). I don't think I know who White Bear really is...her blog's over here -- http://istherenosininit.blogspot.com/ -- bu she's off visiting somewhere right now, so they're doing math there now, it's very depressing. I really do love your book, in case you didn't get that. I looked up your email on the net, over there at Queen College, and nearly emailed you to say so, but it felt too much like stalking.
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