I’ve just finished reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s THE GREAT GATSBY so I’m going around using expressions like ‘jolly good old sport’ and ‘oh, won’t we just have the gayest time!’ in broad, pompous English accents. Even though the book is set on the East coast of the United States… From what I’ve gathered, people have very definite opinions on this Fitzgerald guy. Either they think he’s brilliant or they cannot be bothered with him. I, unfortunately for me as it is one of my exam texts, am one of the latter. I never go in for that style where the author/narrator, seems to be completely disconnected and helpless from that which he is writing. Although not quite as depressing, in my opinion, as Albert Camus’ THE OUTSIDER, I do wish that the narrator, Nick Carraway would be a little more pro-active. It does seem to take off very suddenly in the final pages with a discovered love affair, a scandalous car accident, murder and the surfacing of a hidden life. Too little, too late I say… Old sport.
From literary to lamenting,
Last night I caught up with a childhood playmate who I haven’t seen for quite some time. Since the days of doll playing and running under the sprinkler in summer time, she has become a manic depressant, dropping out of school after several suicide attempts. Now, I am told, she will be going back to school with me next year at Glenunga. I’m not sure whether I am happy about this. She was my very first best friend, we’ve known each other since we were three, meeting on the kindy jungle gym at home time, hiding so that we didn’t have to leave. And from that time onwards we did everything together. We got babysat together by a young woman named Ana who we would incessantly tease and play tricks on because all she did was chew jucy fruit and talk on the phone. We made up songs that we thought would become top of the charts, songs that I still remember to this day. We went to our first day of Primary school together holding hands. We bullied the boys in to playing kiss chasey…
So the thing is, she’s coming to Glenunga where I’m the only person she knows and I really hope that she gets it all together but I’m just a bit worried, it’s an awfully big responsibility. I know that sounds like such a cop-out, maybe it is. It’s just that all my friends in recent years have been so very stable. I want to do what I can but I’m just not experienced in these matters. And also… she’s a bit weird. For example, last night their whole family came over and we went for a walk and on this walk, I swear, she was blabbering on with our two younger brothers for a good 30 minutes about poo. I will tell you, it got very detailed at one point. Am I just too old and boring? Probably, I admit that I’m a bit of a grandma sometimes but is it really necessary to talk about bodily functions? Everyone knows what happens, we all accept it but do we NEED to talk about it in such depth?
Anyway, I’m off. We’re going to Clayton (small South Australian town, or a few dwellings thrown together in random place if I’m going to get technical about it) where my uncle has a shack on the lakefront and we’re going to go water skiing! Or knee boarding if I don’t quite manage the skiing. And if that doesn’t work I’ll just sit in the tyre and get pulled along – that’s what usually happens.
Con muchisimo amor siempre,
tu amiga fiel,