Apr. 27, 2003 - 10:08 p.m.
Dear Meghan:
Another Sunday is upon us, which means another performance of Suspicious Clowns has come and gone. I was extremely quiet pre-show, which I think edged the others off the rails a bit, as normally I am pushing back some sort of manic panic in my eyes. But I did very well that night. I really focused and tried - more than other times - to envision each scene I was in (notably, imaginary clocks on walls and the type of floor each scene would most likely have) and by doing so, I nailed each character. Everyone else acquitted themselves fairly well; certainly nobody is without style. During the drinkfest that followed, there was earnest talk about what to do next. As Scott said, "It would be easier if we sucked," meaning, of course, we could end the Clowns with little or no fanfare if we were subpar. That's very Scott. But lo and behold, we have shown up as HIGHLY RECOMMENDED in the Chicago Reader, the cool arts newspaper, so now there seems to be more of an encouraging push to explore what else we could do.
Several rounds later, Jennie - who attended this show for the second time - and I wound up at the International House of Pancakes, though I must admit I'm not sure how we got there or how I got home later (though I recall walking). Ah, such bliss.
I do not know if I have mentioned this, but the most recent move is more or less completed (though no doubt you suspected it has been completed for some time now). I have half a room yet to unpack, though I am of the mind that if I don't need to search for anything, I may be throwing a lot of old stuff out. My office is fairly cluttered but happy, though I have yet to break out any of my guitars. The bass guitar has emerged, and I've gone through all of the tracks I recorded over the Christmas holiday and re-taped new parts. By far the easiest track to record bass for is my attempt at poetic rap, a ditty called 'Drama Class', all about an ex-Clown who acted far better offstage than on. Songs are mini-therapy for me; once they're on tape, they're just songs. Great way to cut and paste animosity.
The cats have all found their place in the new place. As I write this, Hunter is with me, making use of the short wicker table I put in here (due to lack of inspiration of where exactly it should go), which I covered with a blanket. This room is his. Anonymous, the sole 'bought' cat of the bunch, favors the big fluffy couch; Zoe likes the bedroom; Johann Sebastian is drawn to the bathroom. I have chosen not to analyze any of this behavior, and I'm just happy I can make out the buzz of Hunter's purring as he floats between dreams.
Some more lovely Bone chat...
The choice of the name 'Susie' is an intriguing thing to ponder. Personally, I think 'Susie Salmon' was chosen because it is very easy to remember. Certainly this had to be a consideration as the story is told from Susie's point of view, hence the name would come up with less frequency than other characters. Also, I would agree with your assertion that 'Susie' is a very good 'example name' as well as one that equals youth. By choosing that name, it can be effortlessly re-emphasized that Susie isn't aging in the same way as her Earth-bound contemporaries.
I was drawn by the poetic thank-you's that immediately follow the novel. I cannot but wonder if one of those folks who helped Alice along with her book was a editor or editor-wanna-be-cum-psychologist and that's how the ending got mired in a sinkhole of its own. Though I was ultimately pleased that Harvey got bumped off, I remain not pleased that is was done in such a post-scriptum fashion. And then there's the icicle. The weapon of choice. The winner of the perfect murder contest. And the object that sends Harvey to his own heaven somewhere. I am left with the feeling that Susie was behind it, though I am at odds with that. If she is, why did she wait? If she is, why doesn't she just say so? If she is, what was her motivation after all this time? If she isn't......why put the icicle clues earlier in the book? Incidentally, the icicle clues, in retrospect, smack of being inserted in a later draft of the novel, not part of the original. I think they all fall under the 'clutter' category that you spoke about in your letter.
As the book settles into my near-term memory, I must also confess that the Abigail/Len tryst, though feasible, is not to my liking at all. There's not enough of Abigail in the story to quite justify her actions, unlike those of the remainder of her family.
All in all, I like the style of Sebold's book more than 'Rag and Bone', but I have to favor 'Rag' as it stays true to the cruelty of the world in which we inhabit. If they were sofas, I would be most proud of 'Lovely' but I'd sit more comfortably on 'Rag'.
Jennie, who has been privy to our book readings and occasionally reads through the diary, has suggested that 'Atonement' be our next literary endeavor. Do you know anything about this book?
Ahem,
Vincent
what they said - what they will say
