How can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms. No atonement for God, or novelists, even if they are atheists. It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all.
Kilgore Trout once wrote a short story which was a dialogue between two pieces of yeast. They were discussing the possible purposes of life as they ate sugar and suffocated in their own excrement. Because of their limited intelligence, they never came close to guessing that they were making champagne.
This was the writer’s true doppelgänger, I thought; not some invisible imp of the perverse who watched you from the shadows, periodically appearing, dressed in your clothes and carrying your house keys, to set fire to your life; but rather the typical protagonist of your work — Roderick Usher, Eric Waldensee, Francis Macomber, Dick Diver — whose narratives at first reflected but in time came to determine your life’s very course.
We are absurdly accustomed to the miracle of a few written signs being able to contain immortal imagery, involutions of thought, new worlds with live people, speaking, weeping, laughing. We take it for granted so simply that in a sense, by the very act of brutish routine acceptance, we undo the work of the ages, the history of the gradual elaboration of poetical description and construction, from the treeman to Browning, from the caveman to Keats. What if we awake one day, all of us, and find ourselves utterly unable to read? I wish you to gasp not only at what you read but at the miracle of its being readable.
Words. Words. I play with words, hoping that some combination, even a chance combination, will say what I want. Perhaps better with music? But music attacks my inner ear like an antagonist, it’s not my world. The fact is, the real experience can’t be described. I think, bitterly, that a row of asterisks, like an old-fashioned novel, might be better. Or a symbol of some kind, a circle perhaps, or a square. Anything at all, but not words.
Olympic pole vault champ jumps to support Boston 2024 bid
#OlympicGames #SummerOlympics [Stamford Advocate]BOSTON (AP) — Olympic pole vault champion Jenn Suhr would consider sticking around for the 2024 Summer Games if she had a chance to compete in the United States. Suhr said on Tuesday that a Boston Olympics would give the Americans a big advantage.
2014 - european team silver and floor and vault finalist, commonwealth team, all around, vault and floor champion, world team 6th, all around 10th, vault and floor finalist, senior english vault champion and all around bronze, senior british vault silver and all around and bars bronze
2013 - world school games team bronze, massilia team bronze
2012 - junior british 5th all around and vault silver
2011 - junior british all around 8th and vault bronze, junior english all around 5th