Sunday, December 18, 2011

"The white spaces of time"

That calm moment before bed, where is it coming from? Maybe the book I'm reading, Dream Boy, which I always avoided before because the title made it sound trite and hackneyed, but actually it's stunningly gorgeous the way it mediates us towards doom. The narrative of young male love or lust or friendship and the specter of Christian homophobia could be seen as clichéd, but the writing is so pared-down, incest and fear woven into the prettiest moments. I wait for the fallout, and somehow this makes me calm?

No, it’s phrases like this: "The inside of the bus is like the sky this morning, the silent condensing around every sleepy face." Or, "it is a moment of poise, in which he must balance between what he knows and what he should not know." Or: "Tonight he avoids the window, and Nathan watches his shadow undress." Or: "the white spaces of time in which his Dad falls on him like snow."

And so, the next day of awful brain-slamming exhaustion, I wait for the end of the day, when I can read more.

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