under another sun

Hot again, blue cloudless sky. Resumed my Monday desk with a song on my lips, but the melody quickly snatched away by BT internet. I could send or receive no email till the evening, and wasted time on futile conversations with people at BT, too time-consuming and dreary to go into.   Ordered tiles for the bathroom. And was watchful of Brian who had I think been in a nasty fight the night before, and was moping about but seems to be not physically harmed. Perhaps it is just his pride. More Philip Roth. The Anatomy Lesson  is full of kvetching* and not thought of as his best, and quite amazingly self-indulgent. It is one of three semi-autobiographical novels about the consequence of having written a semi-autobiographical novel. It did make me laugh when the main character, Nathan Zukerman, (an author of a famous semi-autobiographical novel) is on a plane talking to the man next to him, and telling him that he is a pornographer, and going into incredible detail about his imag...

Working really well on the book today. Broke off to have a haircut and then to Starbucks for a change of scene and a cinnamon swirl. I am writing this thing in a Japanese spirit of ganbatte  i.e. just bloody getting on with it and persisting, but today I allowed myself to feel positive about what I have written, even laughing aloud in the cafe when reviewing some sections I'd not read for months. But this of course may just be sign that I have finally lost the plot - next stop The Shining . Out with Anton this evening. Met him at Brighton station, and we walked over the hill via his house into Hove. Ducked into a pub just before a downpour started, and walked to the Brunswick Tavern but the food Anton wanted wasn't there so we had nothing instead. Ended up sipping a late beer in The Eddy. A cheerful night, however, and Anton pleased with himself after a splendid annual review at his work.