Three books

Gosh, it's so hot today I feel like fainting. Just a few days ago I was wrapped up in three layers of clothing and still shivering, and now I'm going about with nothing but boxers (oops!) and still sweating. And even that I feel like stripping off. Being the experienced boy from the tropics I performed all the necessary rites: the cold showers, the iced water, the chilled watermelon, the cold milk, the afternoon swim. But still no can do. Why? Coz the one and only thing is missing: AIR CON.

Actually I came here because I had something to want to say. For an entire week what I wanted to say was bubbling in my head, waiting for me to log-in and type it out. And now here I am, and I can't remember what I wanted to say. I think it's got something to do with . . . mmmm . . . mmmm . . . I really can't remember. I'll come back to it when I do.

Maybe I'll talk about books instead. I bought three books last week because of the joyous occasion. Actually I only wanted to buy one book. More significant I thought. Then I saw another one I wanted. So I thought, ok, why not. Then I saw one more, and I thought, why not right. Then I continued, thinking and browsing, thinking and browsing, and then I thought OK THAT'S ENOUGH. And so I bought three books. Just nice, three:

#1 - F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise: I've always wanted to read Fitzgerald. I remember going to Borders with KS a long time ago because she wanted to get a copy of Tender is the Night. I loved novels then - I've always did - but I didn't really understand novels the way I do now. Most readers of Fitzgerald would probably have read The Great Gatsby. I think it's a great book, even thought I've never gone past the first ten pages. Probably because it's one of those books you know is very good, very well-written, but somehow you already know what it's gonna say/be about. I guess the surprise element wasn't there. But I do love The Great Gatsby's opening paragraph. It's a gem of wisdom to be had for anyone who thinks s/he's too good for other people. And I think Fitzgerald has this gift of capturing and then describing human nature, above and beyond the simple yet elegant and engaging prose that I think is a gift in itself.

#2 - Herta Muller, Nadirs: When I was flipping through the pages, I had this feeling that I was holding onto something precious, something significant. The words literally burned in my hands. Incredible sentences and images. And chilling. I've never read anyone who could write like that before. And I probably wouldn't have known who Muller was if she didn't win the recent Nobel Prize for Literature. And I must say the translation must've been superbly done, if these translated words could still retain their poetry, intensity, images, and send the shivers down my spine.

#3 - Meanjin, current issue. Haha. How can I not get a copy of Melbourne's very own literary magazine, given where I am, what I am, and why I am, at this very moment?