Comments on: What Is Forgetting? http://johnbakersblog.co.uk/what-is-forgetting/ Reflections of a working writer and reader Mon, 15 Mar 2010 10:23:07 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9.1 hourly 1 By: Dick http://johnbakersblog.co.uk/what-is-forgetting/comment-page-1/#comment-109673 Dick Sun, 15 Jun 2008 08:00:47 +0000 http://johnbakersblog.co.uk/?p=1220#comment-109673 I enjoyed the ramble. Re. the Fuentes, Beckett talks of "a literature of the 'unword'". Where Fuentes struggles against silence, Beckett aspires to it. Fine poem. <strong>jb says</strong>: Nice counterpoint, that, Dick . . .Fuentes and Beckett. Thanks for the comment. I enjoyed the ramble.

Re. the Fuentes, Beckett talks of “a literature of the ‘unword’”. Where Fuentes struggles against silence, Beckett aspires to it.

Fine poem.

jb says: Nice counterpoint, that, Dick . . .Fuentes and Beckett. Thanks for the comment.

]]> By: Jim Murdoch http://johnbakersblog.co.uk/what-is-forgetting/comment-page-1/#comment-109667 Jim Murdoch Thu, 12 Jun 2008 06:30:56 +0000 http://johnbakersblog.co.uk/?p=1220#comment-109667 As I get older, although it's a matter of perspective whether or not I can get to call myself old (I'm not actually that sure anymore what the definition of 'old' is with reference to a man's age), as I step into that first snow of autumn, to allude to Haines' poem, I have to say I've never been as aware of the nature of forgetting; it is something I do with consummate ease and, like the narrator in the story, I need to record things at once because even as I'm experiencing something I'm acutely aware that it's already beginning to slip from my grasp. I had to read your story a few times to get to appreciate it – it's not as immediately accessible as some of your other café pieces – and I particularly like the little history lesson the bald man provides although it's not remembering per se since he was never there to see the pigsty or the market. I actually found myself casting the actor Ken Campbell in the part (remembering him from an episode of 'Fawlty Towers') which I suppose makes the narrator as John Cleese. I'm not sure I'm in agreement with Carlos Fuentes though; for me writing is something that aspires towards a kind of silence, it is something that rises from the babble in my head and becomes separate; a book is a quiet thing. Now, that's why this was a good story, it made me think, it make me ramble. <strong>jb says</strong>: I suppose it's a rambling story, Jim. Something thrown up by the illusionary age of precision in which we live. As I get older, although it’s a matter of perspective whether or not I can get to call myself old (I’m not actually that sure anymore what the definition of ‘old’ is with reference to a man’s age), as I step into that first snow of autumn, to allude to Haines’ poem, I have to say I’ve never been as aware of the nature of forgetting; it is something I do with consummate ease and, like the narrator in the story, I need to record things at once because even as I’m experiencing something I’m acutely aware that it’s already beginning to slip from my grasp.

I had to read your story a few times to get to appreciate it – it’s not as immediately accessible as some of your other café pieces – and I particularly like the little history lesson the bald man provides although it’s not remembering per se since he was never there to see the pigsty or the market. I actually found myself casting the actor Ken Campbell in the part (remembering him from an episode of ‘Fawlty Towers’) which I suppose makes the narrator as John Cleese. I’m not sure I’m in agreement with Carlos Fuentes though; for me writing is something that aspires towards a kind of silence, it is something that rises from the babble in my head and becomes separate; a book is a quiet thing.

Now, that’s why this was a good story, it made me think, it make me ramble.

jb says: I suppose it’s a rambling story, Jim. Something thrown up by the illusionary age of precision in which we live.

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