An Odd Transaction
I’ve never been one to read (very thoroughly, at least) lengthy quotations in books. We talked about this during a course I took last year on writing biography—does anybody actually read lengthy passages of Samuel Johnson in the midst of his biography? The general consensus seemed to be… no, not really.
I take this a step further, though, because I even have a hard time reading comparable passages in fiction. As soon as I see the indented stanzas and italics, my eyes go into sixth gear, no matter how much I’m enjoying myself otherwise. Those songs the Sorting Hat sings in Harry Potter? Skimmed them. Of course such quotes and silly songs are still sometimes necessary, thanks to various style guidelines and general ease of reading. I do it in my own writing (see below), although I’m much more careful after an entire seminar class admitted to rarely reading quotes.
I picked up J.M. Coetzee’s Elizabeth Costello the other day; I enjoyed (does one enjoy Coetzee?) Disgrace and The Life and Times of Michael K, and I was certain that Advisor had recommended E.C. (he swears to me now that he did no such thing). I’m about halfway through: it appears that the book is made up almost entirely of a series of formal addresses. Now, these aren’t quite the same things as quotes, if only because they don’t raise a flag by appearing in italicized stanzas. And yet… I’m struggling. I fight the urge to skim. I skim anyways. I go back and reread. I skim again. And so it goes.
* * *
During one of these skim-and-reread exercises, however, I came across two little gems. The title character is at a dinner party being held in her honor, and she has just given a rambling keynote address (I tried not to skim it, but even the narrator called it rambling). Somewhere in the rambling were Elizabeth Costello’s scattered beliefs on animal cruelty and vegetarianism. One dinner guest says, “So vegetarianism is a very odd transaction, when you come to think of it, with the beneficiaries unaware that they are being benefited.” I suppose this is one way to think of it. Elizabeth Costello, however, thinks otherwise. I am not sure I am supposed to find this passage, or Coetzee, funny. But I’m a farmer’s granddaughter and a Texan and a vegetarian, and I have to say that it’s tempting to hang on to this one for the next time somebody says to me, “but it’s just chicken!”
‘You ask me why I refuse to eat flesh. I, for my part, am astonished that you can put in your mouth the corpse of a dead animal, astonished that you do not find it nasty to chew hacked flesh and swallow the juices of death wounds.’
“The juices of death wounds.” Damn.
* * *
current book: see above.
current music: I am totally incapable of banishing the ear worm that is “I Bet That You Look Good on the Dance Floor” by the Arctic Monkeys.
current socks: My Grumpy Bear socks. It was a Grumpy Bear kind of day.
