One of my best friends and I decided to do a book swap in December. I traded him Andre Breton's Nadja for his copy of Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami in December. After that we hung out weekly because of our internship, and caught on to how busy our lives would be. But we both swore to try and read, because these books were completely worth having to stay up a bit later to catch a few paragraphs.
So I read earnestly, but school kept getting in the way or I had to finish another book right before I could get to this one. Summer came with my having about 100 pages to go. I never forgot how beautiful the prose was, how the story would grip me at times.
And within these past few days, I have been swallowed whole by this narrative. It was one of those "perfect timing" books, where it was seen through the prisms of other books that crossed my way that in this moment, I were to read this and have this passage affect me in that certain way.
It's just one of those beautiful things about living. Finding that correlation between reality and the print on a musty page. Music hits me in the same way, as another friend told me that he still remembers me referencing "Julia" by the Beatles in an old xanga post.
Give me good prose, and you have me.
[Yulia- Wolf Parade]
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Enjoy the summer reading.
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