Monday, October 31, 2011
The New Life
Purchased at Talking Leaves...Books. I can't recall whether or not I read this one. I may have. Or I may have started but not finished it. I definitely reached a burnout point reading Pamuk. I read four or five of his books in succession. This may have been the one I stopped reading in the middle of it. I think I later started My Name is Red, but got distracted. I know for sure I didn't finish that one.
Anyhow...following the incident at the Central Terminal described in yesterday's post, I drove Pamuk through the entropic boulevards of Buffalo's East Side across town to the Darwin Martin House, a reconstructed Frank Lloyd Wright complex that has become a centerpiece of Buffalo's tourist industry.
It was snowing when we arrived, right at five o'clock. We had intended only to do a drive-by, as we were running a little late, but as soon as we pulled up to the corner, Pamuk said, I have to go in...surely we have a few more minutes? Before I could protest that we in fact did not have a few more minutes, he leapt from the car. I followed, naturally.
We entered through the gift shop. Pamuk had his Leica out and was furiously snapping photos. A woman approached and told us that the place was closed and that photos were not allowed. In this instance, I did think it would make a difference if I told them that this was a Nobel Prize Winner. It did make a difference. She not only showed us a little bit of the building we were in, but let Pamuk shoot as many photos as he wanted.
Membership does have its privileges, it seems.
from The New Life
I read a book one day and my whole life was changed. Even o the first page I was so affected by the book's intensity I felt my body sever itself and pull away from the chair where I sat reading the book that laye before me on the table. But even thought I felt my body disassociating, my entire being remained so concertedly at the table that the book worked its influence not only on my soul but on every aspect of my identity.