The Secret Dream
Dec. 1st, 2006 02:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nirinia"Tartt taps her Marlboro Gold on the ashtray. She is kind of girl-boy-woman in her lineaments, with lunar-pale skin, spooky light-green eyes, a good-size triangular nose, a high, pixieish voice. With her Norma Desmond sunglasses propped on her dark bobbed hair, her striped boy's shirt and shorts from Gap Kids (the only store whose ready-to-wear fits her), and her ever-present cigarette, she is, somehow, a character of her own fictive creation: precocious sprite from a Cunard Line cruise ship, circa 1920-something. A Wise Child out of Salinger." Stolen from this decade-old interview.
There, the cat is out of the bag, and my dream revealed. I want someone to see me like that. A character of my own fictional creation - not that I'd mind Tartt's gorgeous bob, either - and have people drool over my writing. I want a book with my name on its spine in a bookshelf. I want to be the mysterious writer of obscure prose and root of tounge-twisting sentences.
And as for "Old Maidens" and my interpretation, I'm now positive it went to hell. How are we supposed to know "dressing saints" is a Catholic tradition of some sort? I might be a genius, but I'm not that into Catholic traditions. Pfft, I say.
Talked to Vigdis again yesterday: I'm seeing three Shakespeare-centred films during Christmas, comparing them, discussing "Lord of the Flies" with her, and doing an essay on American Politics (allegedly quite a challenge) and character analysis, respectively. American Politics for dummies, anyone?
There, the cat is out of the bag, and my dream revealed. I want someone to see me like that. A character of my own fictional creation - not that I'd mind Tartt's gorgeous bob, either - and have people drool over my writing. I want a book with my name on its spine in a bookshelf. I want to be the mysterious writer of obscure prose and root of tounge-twisting sentences.
And as for "Old Maidens" and my interpretation, I'm now positive it went to hell. How are we supposed to know "dressing saints" is a Catholic tradition of some sort? I might be a genius, but I'm not that into Catholic traditions. Pfft, I say.
Talked to Vigdis again yesterday: I'm seeing three Shakespeare-centred films during Christmas, comparing them, discussing "Lord of the Flies" with her, and doing an essay on American Politics (allegedly quite a challenge) and character analysis, respectively. American Politics for dummies, anyone?
