The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Tiny Giants and Tiny Mummies #10

Edmund Wilson


estiv said...

Just look at that cheerful mug.

He was so much smarter and better educated than most people that when he ran across someone who knew more than he did, he had a hard time admitting it. One factor in the death of his long friendship with Nabokov, a native Russian speaker, was that he would try to correct the fine points of N's Russian.

rookgaroo said...

I understand he also criticized Nabokov's translation of Alexander Pushkin's Eugene Onegin, calling it "eccentric".

He strikes me as the kind of guy who wouldn't want me dating his daughter.

Vanwall said...

If you got her into bed, he'd've critiqued that, too, with how you were doing it wrong.

rookgaroo said...

I can take criticism. I just wouldn't like having my ineptitude trumpeted all over the scholarly journals...