The White Album

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• On my way to one of those studios in Boston I have seen the magnolias bursting white down Marlborough Street. On my way to another in Dallas I had watched the highway lights blazing and dimming pink against the big dawn sky. Outside one studio in Houston the afternoon heat was sinking into the deep primeval green of the place and outside the next, that night in Chicago snow fell and glittered in the lights along the lake. Outside all these studios America lay all its exhilaratingly volatile weather and eccentricity and specificity, but inside the studios we shed the specific and rocketed on to the general, for they were The Interviewers and I was The Author and the single question we seemed able to address together was where are we heading. (查看原文)

  Sound_Fury 5赞 2020-10-21 19:54:49

• It never comes when I am in real trouble. Tell me that my house is burned down, my husband has left me, that there is gunfighting in the streets and panic in the banks, and I will not respond by getting a headache. It comes instead when I am fighting not an open but a guerrilla war with my own life, during weeks of small household confusions, lost laundry, unhappy help, canceled apointments, on days when the telephone rings too much and I get no work done and the wind is coming up. On days like that my friend comes uninvited. There is a pleasant convalescent euphoria. I open the windows and feel the air, eat gratefuly, sleep well, notice the particular nature of a flower in a glass on the stair landing. I count my blessings. 1968 (查看原文)

  苏生 1赞 2021-04-26 10:24:14

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