Wednesday, 2 December 2009

News Round

Let me begin by clarifying my earlier response to Lethe in his post, On Genius:

At heart, my argument is language is not transparent as in a glass doorway that opens directly to the thinking or feeling of the speaker. If it were, lawyers would be out of a job as there would be no debate over meaning.

One consequence is the transcendent, in other words, any value that can be described as belonging to us all, an absolute truth for instance, is compromised immediately one tries to define it. We necessarily can only talk of it from a time and place and, therefore, from a set of attitudes and assumptions that, for the most part, remain hidden from us. We are not gods and cannot take a god-like view of our world. We may feel we share common feelings, like love and a love of beauty, but to assert directly such feelings are common is beyond our scope; or, more accurately, beyond the scope of language.

So, my main criticism is the encompassing 'we' with which you make your observations of what appeals to you, in the singular. Yes, I may nod my head in recognition of your appreciation of a particular work of art; but, no, I shake my head when you infer there is 'a higher state of mind', some transcendental, Olympian viewpoint from where we can sit in common agreement of what constitutes beauty.

I hope, given I am forced to use words, that makes my position clear.


(I am listening to Buchan's The Thirty-Nine Steps while writing this, and Hannay has just confessed, "I did some savage thinking." Savage thinking! Deconstruct that.)

My Future is Being Charted

I have a plan, a plan so cunning Baldrick would lay claim to it as one of his own. The first part of the plan must needs be remain cloaked in mystery; however, if it succeeds it will mean I need not work for the next nine/twelve months while I research my next book. (The plan does not have to remain hidden in the Chenille weave of mystery but I do not wish to tempt fate by exposing it at such an early stage.)

The second part of my future lies at a university, yet to be determined. I have decided to read for an MA or DPhil in Creative Writing. My preference is for the doctorate as I would then be Dr. D R O'Connor Thompson and I believe the Thompson Twins had a hit with Doctor Doctor - it could become my anthem. (Besides, I have an MA and, looking at what is on offer, I would be repeating much of what I have learnt.) This second part is dependent on funding though I am so poor at present I doubt I would notice the difference.

Book, Thursday To Thursday

On the subject of impecuniousness, I am frustrated by the fact I can do nothing with my novel at the moment. Most agents demand you send a s.a.e. with your submission and I cannot afford to do so. I can barely afford the postage to send the ms in the first place.

Indeed, the more I look at the world of publishing, the more it appears there is an assumption that you must be an individual of means to attend the party. I am happy to earn little from my scribblings, that is my fault for choosing to write the material I do; however, to get a foot in the door, to attend conferences, to submit material requires an income over subsistence, one I do not possess because I prefer to write rather than do more hours at the mindless work I do, the only sort a person of my age can find.

Gripe over.

And In Case…

you thought from my previous post I was the ugliest baby a mother ever had to suffer, I confuse you with pictures of me mere months later. All together now, a heartfelt ahhh!

PS Today is my birthday.


Girl On The Run said...

Many Happy Returns to the bar (-:
Sue xxxxx

Kingsdowner said...

That's a glum old birthday diatribe.....but I'm sure you cheered up as the day went on.
The 'missing part' of your new life strategy had me hoping that it is at least mostly legal, but hey, what the hell.
The photos indicate that you missed your vocation as a Pears soap model.