About a week ago, I could see the scattered fireworks below, as my
flight to Rome lifted off from New York City. It had been a difficult
winter. Revenues from editing academic journal articles had abruptly
stopped the previous autumn, and I was forced to abandon my nomading
through the Balkans and fly back to the city before the coffers ran down
to nil. It has been a very difficult existence for the last decade or
so, so I had some experience in how to live, and work, and think in the
city when no source of work was to be found. But these experiences are
very far from the usual American life, and the days and nights are very
difficult, particularly in winter. ... As the celebrations in America
continued into the night, I found myself stepping into the clear, cold
light of the morning, as I changed planes in Iceland. To be clear, this
is not a record of that winter and spring, or some picaresque narrative
of survival. These are my thoughts while these events were going on, and
would only be of interest to those who were interested in my thoughts,
rather than my experiences. More, this text was the instrument by which
these thoughts survived. I have divided the book between my journal
entries and my meditations on the readings of the day, but of course,
they were written together.
(Not a commercial endeavor; priced at the Amazon minimum.)
(Not a commercial endeavor; priced at the Amazon minimum.)