I’ve started to read a novel by Philip Roth. The Ghost Writer focuses on a budding young writer who meets his hero- one of the premiere novelists of the 20th century. Very good stuff here, people.
I should alert you to the fact that this is a fictional tale, but it’s obvious the two characters represent phases in Roth’s life. The rosy-cheeked young’n, fantasizing about spending life in Thoroeauvian solitude, and the older, curmudgeoned writer who argues against waisting life immersed in a fictional world. These characters are likely the personification of feelings Roth holds towards writing. A prolific writer such as Roth must love and hate writing at the same time. The book is a window into the mind of a career writer, and all the successes and failures that come with this sought after title.
What I’m saying is this: this book is essentially metaphorical masturbatory materiel for my non-sexual fantasies. I think of myself as the young writer, struggling to make it. I imagine a future me as the accomplished older writer, distraught with my years of slaving away behind a keyboard. Ohhhhh yeah, baby. Ohhhhh, how many book awards have I won? Six? Ohhh yeah, right there.
There are two problems with the book. First, the title implies that the older writer has plagiarized his work or stolen the bulk of his material from someone else. This isn’t too troubling, just a nice twist in a fun novel.
The second issue: I’m not a Jew. Roth’s writing is riddled with Jewish history and important Jewish names. He uses Yiddish words. Both main characters emphasize their Jewish heritage in their writing. All of this leaves me in the dark. No, I don’t know the name of most early 20th century Zionists. No, I don’t really understand what the word 'Goyish' means. For such a good book, I’m frustrated with my lack of knowledge on Judaism.
God knows I’m almost a Jew. I date a Jewish girl. I enjoy the company of self-effacing individuals. I am circumcised. Certain philistines claim I look like Jerry Seinfeld (younger and sexier, of course). So, I have decided to pretend I’m Jewish for awhile.
That is all, I guess. Mazal tov.
I should alert you to the fact that this is a fictional tale, but it’s obvious the two characters represent phases in Roth’s life. The rosy-cheeked young’n, fantasizing about spending life in Thoroeauvian solitude, and the older, curmudgeoned writer who argues against waisting life immersed in a fictional world. These characters are likely the personification of feelings Roth holds towards writing. A prolific writer such as Roth must love and hate writing at the same time. The book is a window into the mind of a career writer, and all the successes and failures that come with this sought after title.
What I’m saying is this: this book is essentially metaphorical masturbatory materiel for my non-sexual fantasies. I think of myself as the young writer, struggling to make it. I imagine a future me as the accomplished older writer, distraught with my years of slaving away behind a keyboard. Ohhhhh yeah, baby. Ohhhhh, how many book awards have I won? Six? Ohhh yeah, right there.
There are two problems with the book. First, the title implies that the older writer has plagiarized his work or stolen the bulk of his material from someone else. This isn’t too troubling, just a nice twist in a fun novel.
The second issue: I’m not a Jew. Roth’s writing is riddled with Jewish history and important Jewish names. He uses Yiddish words. Both main characters emphasize their Jewish heritage in their writing. All of this leaves me in the dark. No, I don’t know the name of most early 20th century Zionists. No, I don’t really understand what the word 'Goyish' means. For such a good book, I’m frustrated with my lack of knowledge on Judaism.
God knows I’m almost a Jew. I date a Jewish girl. I enjoy the company of self-effacing individuals. I am circumcised. Certain philistines claim I look like Jerry Seinfeld (younger and sexier, of course). So, I have decided to pretend I’m Jewish for awhile.
That is all, I guess. Mazal tov.
2 comments:
welcome to the tribe.
Lahium!
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