somewhat
(Source: stickyembraces)
A different kind of punch.
(Source: stickyembraces)
Üldiselt on ka need lugeja märkused, mis justkui autoriga vestlevad, siiski tema autokommunikatsioon või kommunikatsioon teiste lugejatega. Aga siin on autori (Ishiguro) marginaalia tema enda raamatus. Kas oma isikliku eksemplari annoteerimine on autokommunikatsiooniakt? Samas pole nende sisu autokommunikatsioonile omane (Kas või “Salisbury has always held a special magic for me” ja “Yes, this is completely made up” kõlab rohkem nagu miski, mida jutustatakse kellelegi teisele. Või omaenda amneesilisele tuleviku-minale, kes võib hakata Hayes Society jälgi ajama?) Või on see Ishiguro tahtlik mäng “isiklike märkuste” - “avalike selgituste” teljel, sarnane varjatud ekshibitsionism (mäherdune oksüümoron), mis igasugu kuulsate “Marginaaliate” puhul (“oh, ma siin niisama sodisin oma isikliku raamatu leheserva vaimukaid märkusi… aga äkki avaldaks?”), ainult et kõige privilegeeritumast, autori enda vaatepunktist.
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Even if marginalia pretends to address the author, it actually constitutes either the reader’s autocommunication or his/her communication with other readers. Here, however, you have the author’s (Ishiguro’s) annotations to his own copy of his own work. Are they intended as self-communication or are they really communication presented as autocommunication, “intimate notes to oneself” - a covert exhibitionist’s response to voyerist demands? It depends on whether the author’s intentions included taking photos and hanging them up for everyone to see (sounds logical, but you never know where the omniviscent eye of the internet media can reach… they could be reading YOUR marginalia next!), but some of the content ( “Salisbury has always held a special magic for me”, “Yes, this is completely made up”) suggests they were created for display, for others to read, not for the privacy of his own bookshelf. Although these annotations might prove useful in case of memory loss. Who knows.
(Source: stickyembraces)
“When I was little, my ambition was to grow up to be a book. Not a writer. People can be killed like ants. Writers are not hard to kill either. But not books: however systematically you try to destroy them, there is always a chance that a copy will survive and continue to enjoy a shelf-life in some corner on an out-of-the-way library somehwere in Reykjavik, Valladolid or Vancouver.” — Amos Oz (via hmhbooks)
(via baudelairies)
Grant Snider
@
can I live there please?
Shakespeare & Company, Paris, France
(photo: John Rogers)
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