Having not slept the night before, I feel refreshed. Borges slept with his eyes open, his mother watching him as he slept. Borges lived with his mother until her death, then for some time afterwards. She knotted his cravat, polished his shoes and cinched his belt round the vicarage of his waist; made sure he ate properly, took his vitamins and wore matching socks.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Links
- Apmonia: A Site for Samuel Beckett
- Bywords.ca
- fORT/dAfORT/dA
- Google News
- http://phrenology1011.blogspot.com/
- http://thegreatjamesjoyce.blogspot.com/
- John W. MacDonald's Weblog
- New York Freudian Society
- Sigmund Freud-Museum Wien-Vienna
- Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy
- Taking the Brim _ Took the Broom
- The Blog of Amanda Earl
- The Brazen Head: A James Joyce Public House
About Me
- Stephen Rowntree
- "Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz
No comments:
Post a Comment