good conversation

I love carrying the little man around in the sling and chatting to him. Now that I have him do I need a blog? Though the kind of things we end up talking about are a little different from the standard fare of the blogsphere (if such a thing exists) so perhaps I can sustain both monologues in parallel. and perhaps each will become more of a dialogue or conversation in time. But it's amazing how knowing your audience changes what you want to say. I think that's partly why I've always loved letter writing, and quite enjoyed reviewing, but struggled with fiction. It's all words, but words are nothing if not communication, so you need to know what you're communicating, and first of all to whom. Maybe that's why most good fiction writers start with autobiographical stuff (and sometimes stay with it - Bellow is one of my all-time favourites and I'm not the least put off by the fact that pretty much all his characters are North American Jews of East European or Russian extraction and a decidedly intellectual bent. A family friend once poured cold water on my brother's literary ambitions asking who would be interested in the life of a middle-class European; I think the question misses the point, as the deeper you explore any life the more interesting it gets (leaving aside the royal family perhaps), and it's not about exotcism or grotesquerie - not all literature is commedia del'arte, magical realism, travelogue or grand guignol, and in fact the very best stuff probably never is (much though I appreciate García Márquez, Poe etc) - but look, I'm digressing like the south circular so I'll close the parenthesis now).

Anyway, Ben is a good audience and today as we walked under burning sun through the back streets of East Dulwich hunting down formula milk we strayed from memories of hot days in other countries through the geometric nature of experience of the passage of time, through the search for completeness in life, intimations of ultimate reality, faith and beauty. Since he's barely two weeks old some of the vocabulary may be a bit of a stretch but I like to think that in years to come he will dream a memory of our conversations and wake up with knowledge or ideas that seem to come from nowhere (and perhaps make very little sense).