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Pulled out Jim Steinman's Bad for Good this evening. Renewed my love for his melodramtic and storyteller lyrics. I miss his work with Meat Loaf. Those two were made for each other even if they had the falling out and haven't been the same since. I've always been more enthralled with Jim in that duo which is why I haven't bothered to investigate Meat Loaf's stuff without Jim's songwriting. I have some of Jim's stuff without Meat Loaf and I enjoy it, but it can't rival something like Bat Out of Hell.
I can't discuss this too passionately because I wasn't really in the mood to listen to anything this evening. It's not that I'm in a bad mood or even in a funk. I'm just enjoying the silence and the comforting sound of the air conditioner. It's unusual for me. I love music and whenever I can I have it playing - on the DVD player, the stereo, the computer, my car stereo, a walkman. I don't have an IPod (sp?), but that is a whole other story and rant that I won't get into right now. It would take far too long and I don't have the energy or willpower to type it out. I'd rather just lay here in the floor and ignore everything.
I'm nearly finished with Hubert Selby's The Demon. I'm extremely glad that I'm nearly finished. It's difficult to read it. Painful even. I'm not saying it isn't good, but it's...hell, I don't know. It's dark and extremely intimate. Like a warped mirror. I'm not saying that I am like Harry White (the main character) or that I know someone who is or that my life resembles anyone in that book, but it's difficult to swallow regardless. I had to put it down for a couple weeks because I got physically sick at the thought of reading it. Not because it is poorly-written, but because it is so rich and so true and so heartbreaking. It's the first time I've had a reaction like that to a novel. Usually I'll enjoy it and be glad it is over so I can move on to something else. Other times I'll enjoy it and wish it could go on forever. And sometimes I'll think of it as mediocre and be glad to finish it and find something new to read. I can't say that I've enjoyed this novel. I haven't. But I can't say that I'm not glad I read it either. It's definitely worthy of being read and discussed, but it weighs on me. The last thing I'd think of when asked for recommendations for lite summer reading. I need a break from it, so once I finish the last three chapters, I'm going to read that Elvis Costello bio I got for my birthday. It should lighten my mood.
I can't discuss this too passionately because I wasn't really in the mood to listen to anything this evening. It's not that I'm in a bad mood or even in a funk. I'm just enjoying the silence and the comforting sound of the air conditioner. It's unusual for me. I love music and whenever I can I have it playing - on the DVD player, the stereo, the computer, my car stereo, a walkman. I don't have an IPod (sp?), but that is a whole other story and rant that I won't get into right now. It would take far too long and I don't have the energy or willpower to type it out. I'd rather just lay here in the floor and ignore everything.
I'm nearly finished with Hubert Selby's The Demon. I'm extremely glad that I'm nearly finished. It's difficult to read it. Painful even. I'm not saying it isn't good, but it's...hell, I don't know. It's dark and extremely intimate. Like a warped mirror. I'm not saying that I am like Harry White (the main character) or that I know someone who is or that my life resembles anyone in that book, but it's difficult to swallow regardless. I had to put it down for a couple weeks because I got physically sick at the thought of reading it. Not because it is poorly-written, but because it is so rich and so true and so heartbreaking. It's the first time I've had a reaction like that to a novel. Usually I'll enjoy it and be glad it is over so I can move on to something else. Other times I'll enjoy it and wish it could go on forever. And sometimes I'll think of it as mediocre and be glad to finish it and find something new to read. I can't say that I've enjoyed this novel. I haven't. But I can't say that I'm not glad I read it either. It's definitely worthy of being read and discussed, but it weighs on me. The last thing I'd think of when asked for recommendations for lite summer reading. I need a break from it, so once I finish the last three chapters, I'm going to read that Elvis Costello bio I got for my birthday. It should lighten my mood.
