: 05 April 2002 :

don’t let it bring you down
it’s only castles burning
find someone who’s turning
and you will come around

Been listening to a lot of Neil Young in the past week or so. I had After the Gold Rush on just now while I was in the bath, the afternoon sun coming through the window, feeling relaxed and comfortable. I’m in quite a Brautigan mood right now. I think the weather might have something to do with it, and also the music. I was listening to Songs of Leonard Cohen last night - I’ve got it on again at the moment

you left when I told you I was curious
I never said that I was brave

and it always reminds me of In Watermelon Sugar. Partly for the sweet calm melancholy beauty they both have, and partly because I was listening to Leonard Cohen the first time I read the book.

you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me
it’s just the way it changes like the shoreline and the sea

The Rebel Inc edition of Revenge of the Lawn has an introduction by Gordon Legge, talking about what Brautigan means to him. It’s a good introduction, like most of the Rebel Inc Classics. One of the reasons I really love the imprint. Immersed in this love affair with books and writers and words, I quoted Legge in an enthusiastic but flawed thesis on Rebel Inc and Jack London, revelling in the way that one thing can remind you of another in a sprawling network of connections.

“I like to think that if the great man had an influence then you’d find traces of it in such diverse attractions as the wonderfully written short stories of Raymond Carver, the anarchic splendour of The Simpsons ... and in the language-loving, laid-back sonic discords of Pavement ... There you go. Including points in between, I think that just about covers everything.”

Coming across this put a grin on my face because I love The Simpsons, and Pavement (of course), and because I like it when people don’t just compare books to other books. Mainly because this is the way I usually think about things, in a big web of stuff all tied together. In the way that some bits of The Great Gatsby make me think of Edward Hopper, every single time.

Yeah, and I love Raymond Carver. I used to read him over and over again when I was at school, and when I found out that one of my friends loved him too it made me so happy. I read an article about Thom Jones in a newspaper (this would have been four or five years ago now) and the journalist said Jones was the only person writing in America that could be claimed as Carver’s successor. My local library didn’t have Sonny Liston Was A Friend Of Mine (and in fact I’ve still not read it) but I got hold of The Pugilist at Rest. Although it didn’t seem that Carveresque, I loved it so much I bought my own copy.

When I read Optic Nerve for the first time, I was struck by how much Adrian Tomine’s strips reminded me of Raymond Carver. The writing and the drawing are exquisitely observed, and Tomine (like Carver) doesn’t let his detachment seem like a lack of sympathy for the characters. There aren’t really any histrionics or huge events, just the subtle portrayal of people’s lives going quietly by.

But more, much more than these two, reading Brautigan is a calming experience. Even with the violence, the misunderstanding, the missed connections between people, you take it all in so calmly. I get a similar feeling from Kerouac sometimes. If On the Road makes you want to jump up and go somewhere, The Dharma Bums makes you want to sit down and just watch things. Like In Watermelon Sugar, it makes me feel like there’s nothing really important but sitting in a sunny garden somewhere, maybe with a good book, maybe just watching the light that comes from the flowers.

“IN WATERMELON SUGAR the deeds were done and done again as my life is done in watermelon sugar. I’ll tell you about it because I am here and you are distant.”